Former Morris Brown President Delores Cross resigned in February 2002, under fire because of the college’s impending loss of accreditation. Yet she was paid for three more months while on administrative leave. Parvesh Singh, Cross’ handpicked director of financial aid, was fired. But he landed a similar job with Alliant International College in San Diego, Calif. The board of trustees, whose job was to make sure Morris Brown was on course, was still largely intact until earlier this year. For students, it was another story. Morris Brown College’s loss of accreditation in December 2002 dealt a massive blow to a historically black institution that had been the professional launch pad for thousands of African Americans since its founding in 1881. Major academic programs were dropped. Scores of faculty and staff members lost their jobs as the school struggled to stay open. Last year’s enrollment was 77 -– at an institution that once boasted a student body of 2,700. Some 125 students are enrolled this fall. Without accreditation, the school could not receive federal funds, nor could its students receive federal loans or grants, which paid the fees for an estimated 90 percent of the students. Many of those one-time students were sidetracked, at least temporarily, as they dealt with the financial and professional setbacks brought on by the loss of accreditation from the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools. Jameela Harper lost the full scholarship she had earned to attend Morris Brown. Frederick Davis had to forgo his dream of starting a business. Kanesha Venning says she’s lost her educational way and is sitting out college for a while. Harper, who came to Morris Brown in the summer of 2000 as a biology major from Milledgeville, Ga., said she’s had a tough time and still is feeling the consequences of what happened at the school. “At Morris Brown, I was on a full academic scholarship. In transferring [to Boston University], that scholarship was lost,” said Harper. Harper was lucky in some respects. Boston University had a partnership arrangement in which it accepted some pre-med students from Morris Brown. Boston U. officials helped Harper find additional financial aid to cover most of the costs at the more expensive school. But they couldn’t match the full scholarship she lost. And they couldn't shield her from the need to take more undergraduate classes to fulfill Boston University’s requirements for graduation. Now a first-year student at BU’s School of Medicine, Harper has a heavier course load than her classmates as she completes those graduation requirements and starts her medical training. With all that, Harper says the most hurtful aspect of the situation was the disdain with which Morris Brown was treated by outsiders when they learned about the school's problems. She recalled being laughed at by administrators of another school in Georgia when she tried to apply for summer courses and explained she went to Morris Brown. Many "thought the whole situation Morris Brown found itself in was funny,” Harper said. “However, I think they really didn’t understand the difficulty the loss of the school’s accreditation would bring upon the students.” Davis says he never really believed Morris Brown’s troubles could be as bad as people said. “Before coming to MBC, I heard that the school was in a financial ruckus, but I didn’t let that turn me away,” said Davis, a native of South Bend, Ind., who began attending Morris Brown in the fall of 2001. “There were long lines [at the financial aid office] and they were very unorganized.” Yet Davis thought school officials ultimately had everything under control. “I was in my senior year when we lost our accreditation and had only 26 hours left to graduate. But I didn’t have the money to go elsewhere in the AUC (Atlanta University Consortium), so I just put it down,” said Davis, a former criminal justice major. “I always wanted to own my own security company, so I went to Executive Security International in Aspen, Colo., and became a certified protection specialist,” Davis said. Instead of pursuing a dream of setting up a company, he works solo. He has returned to Atlanta and is a self-employed bodyguard for some of the city's prominent residents. He doesn’t have a college degree, but still counts himself as successful, attributing that success directly to his education. “Morris Brown taught me how to handle stress and make something positive out of struggle. Even though it went down like I didn’t want it to, I still love MBC and I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything in the world,” Davis said. Venning, a native of Virginia Beach, Va., enrolled in 1998 to pursue a degree in sociology. Dismayed by the accreditation problems, she left at the end of the 2001-2002 school year to move home and work in a restaurant. She attended Norfolk State University for a semester, but has decided to postpone more college. “I never saw myself going to school anywhere else, which is why it is hard for me to get back into school mode. That’s how much Morris Brown impacted our lives,” said Venning. Despite all that has transpired, Morris Brown retains the love and loyalty of many who stopped there. “What really hurts is that there aren't enough people with resources who feel that it is imperative that HBCUs, like MBC, stay open, especially one founded by black men and funded by black communities. Ninety-nine percent of HBCUs can't say that, yet not enough of us cared to preserve it,” said Venning. “Even now, many of us are still heartbroken over what happened,” said Venning, who said she “loved the whole family vibe” at the school. “I could see that the school was small, but big enough, and everyone we saw smiled and spoke,” said Venning, reminiscing about the first time she visited Morris Brown. Chasten Moore transferred to Clark Atlanta after the accreditation problem and has been able to move on. “The transition has been normal. I didn’t lose any credits. But most people I know lost about a year’s worth,” said Moore, a public relations major from Los Angeles. Moore considered himself lucky because “a lot of students aren’t even in school. They’re working regular jobs because they couldn’t afford the tuition at some of the other schools in the AUC.” Venning said she longs for another support system like the one offered at Morris Brown. “MBC was a place were professors not only nurtured you, but pushed even harder because they wanted you to make them proud. I think that is why they spent so much time with us outside of classes. Davis, who said he grew up mostly around white people, said he misses the atmosphere. “I have never been around that many black people working towards something positive.” Harper points out the small things she once did at MBC that she wished she could do once more. “I miss eating in the cyber café and sitting outside the towers watching different students walking by and I even miss the long convocations and where we all stand together at the end of the program to hold hands in order to sing the alma mater.” They all said they miss the school because, as Harper put it, "Morris Brown is like a home." Posted Sept. 13, 2004 |
Home | News | Sports | Culture | Voices | Images | Projects | About Us Copyright © 2005 Black College Wire. Black College Wire is a project of the Black College Communication Association and the Robert C. Maynard Institute for Journalism Education. |