Dr. Ghislaine Lewis
As we wrap up our series on being Black at Lynchburg, our hope is that these stories resonated with the campus community as we highlighted how black students, faculty and staff negotiate and navigate life at the University of Lynchburg.
It is our sincere hope that we have created conversations around how we can work toward a more inclusive campus community that is open to understanding the cultural nuances that come with being Black at Lynchburg.
Donzailya Berg ‘23
Communication Studies major
Being a Black woman at the University of Lynchburg means I represent a whole demographic. I must be the model that shatters all preconceptions made for the Black community. Being Black at the University of Lynchburg involves a lot of patience and even tolerance at times. Tolerance to witness exclusivity and ignorance while having the patience to teach and understand right from wrong. Being Black at Lynchburg means getting excited when you observe a fellow Black person you have never seen on campus before.
I want to help or engage with individuals a part of my community because I understand how gray things can get when attending a PWI (predominantly white institution). UL has shown me that I represent something unique and beautiful here on campus. I worry I’ll be judged by stereotypes whether it be my name, my hair, or how I dress.
Being Black at Lynchburg poses the question of whether I am judged because I don’t make up the majority of the campus population. I strive to participate and speak in class or events so that individuals understand I’m more than my appearance. I am an intellectual college student. Being Black at Lynchburg means waiting for February to have a platform to speak freely because that seems to be the longest consistent time where people celebrate and *sometimes* listen to what it means to be Black. Being Black at Lynchburg is as complicated as it is beautiful. Being Black starts the conversation— if it’s not me representing this university, who would?
Hannah Belayachi ‘22
Communication Studies major
As a biracial woman, I can always remember having trouble finding social groups where I really fit in. I grew up in a predominantly white area, and I was taught from a young age that because of my parents being from Morocco, that we were technically also considered white (the topic came up because I had asked my parents why my brother’s skin was darker than mine). As I went to school, I would have people ask me questions directly about my parents and my race (“which of your parents is black?” or “you’re not white you’re something else”).
While the directness of these attitudes doesn’t occur as often on a college campus, I’ve found that the attitudes are relatively the same: I’m brown enough for white people to feel “cultured” about who they’ve surrounded themselves with without making them uncomfortable, but I’m too white for black communities to even recognize my heritage at times. A black member of my fraternity, which was majority black at the time, used to refer to us using a word that was used typically to refer to other black individuals, and she would always add on “and maybe Hannah a little.” My race has always been ambiguous to most people, and it’s added pressure over the years that I need to establish myself as completely one or the other. But I’m a mixture of every culture I was raised with: European, Muslim, and black.
However, due to my light skin nature, I’m in a position where I can advocate for others. That was a main reason for my joining Alpha Psi Lambda: America has built a societal lens that has shamed people for being who they are if it was anything but white (and in other cases, anything but a white man). History books leave out the contributions of countless people of color, and as we move forward and uncover these details, it’s important to finally set the story straight about what kind of people set up our society, how it advantages them and how we can reconstruct it to work for everyone as best we can. With the expansion of the internet and the spread of misinformation it will only get harder, but that is why it’s important to help out when you can.
Jacob Jones ‘25
History major
To me, being black at Lynchburg means doing everything I possibly can to make an impact on campus, because my ancestors could only dream of being in a situation that I have been blessed to find myself in today, so I do this for all dreamers who couldn’t.
Jewel Brown ‘23
Psychological Science major
Stepping onto Lynchburg’s campus as a freshman in 2019, I was blinded by the excitement of being able to experience college life and everything it included. I was excited to attend classes and sporting events. I was ready to embrace what it really means to be a Hornet. I approached this environment with open eyes, which soon led me to see a different perspective.
In my personal experience, being an African-American woman at the University of Lynchburg has not come with extreme challenges, however, there are some experiences that bring on some uneasiness. For starters, whether it is in a classroom or a public setting, I always find it easy to feel out of place in my surroundings. With the University being a PWI (predominantly white institution), I often find myself surrounded by students who don’t look like me.
While I don’t feel threatened by my peers, I tend to feel as if it is harder to fit in, and that I stick out to the point where it is extremely noticeable. This can cause a bit of shyness, resulting in me keeping to myself throughout the day. To add on to my experience, there are times when I usually tend to feel unrepresented in the activities conducted on this campus, which caters mostly to the majority population on the campus. Despite the indifferences of attending a PWI, I still manage to find a purpose to work hard, create an environment that allows myself to be heard, and advocate for women of color.
Tahmya Robinson, ‘23
Criminology & Africana Studies major
I’m not sure what it means to be Black at Lynchburg exactly but it’s nice that I can sometimes surround myself with others with my same background. The fact that we have so many organizations to help promote equity and inclusion is comforting. The atmosphere is always welcoming for me and I know if I need anything I can reach out.
Desmond Harvey ‘24
Business Administration major
I’m not sure what it [being Black at Lynchburg] means to me.
I know that when I do well in classes or take part in organizations, like Man2Man, it sets a good example for others who follow behind me. I always try to make sure I do welland excel in classes, but I don’t often view this as something I do for my race. My success benefiting my race is a benefit but not usually the primary motivation.
I feel that making it to the University of Lynchburg for me was different from other students because I am also a first generation college student. I did not know the things I should look for when interested in a college. Many of the documents My family and I received and worked through were new to us. My parents offered the help they could, but did have the first hand experience and knowledge to offer me. This path was mine to take and I was the one to carve out my path. Even as I walk campus today I still feel as if there is much more for me to know and understand, but I continue to work toward and figure out my path to graduation.
