Category Archives: HBCUs

Why HBCUs And Alumni Must Build the HBCU Forest Service Before African American Land Disappears Forever

Posted on January 2, 2026 by | Leave a comment

“[W]e can only do what we are able to do at any given time and under a single set of circumstances, and we must not feel unsuccessful in any one attempt. The opportunity will rise again to do something else, and the courage to act will rise with it.” – Betty Reid-Soskin

Forestry remains one of the most overlooked frontiers of African American institutional development, even though Black landownership stretches across 42 states, forming one of the largest and least protected asset classes in Black America’s portfolio. African Americans own an estimated 1.1 million acres of timberland across the United States, representing approximately $3.4 billion in timber asset value, yet this land has never had the institutional protection or forestry infrastructure capable of defending it. Forests, rangelands, farms, hunting land, wetlands, and timber stands make up millions of acres of African American–owned property, but between 1910 and 1997, Black families lost approximately 90% of their farmland—a staggering decline from 16 to 18 million acres to fewer than 2 million acres today. Historically Black Colleges and Universities, especially the 1890 land-grant institutions, were never adequately funded or politically supported to build forestry schools, timber research labs, wildfire academies, or land-management offices that could anchor a national land-protection ecosystem. That vacuum has had devastating consequences.

The loss of African American land over the past century through heirs’ property exploitation, tax manipulation, predatory timber buyers, USDA discrimination, forced sales, and wildfire vulnerability is not solely the result of racism; it is the result of being institutionally unprotected. Studies indicate that heir property affects an estimated 60% of Black-owned land in the South, leaving millions of acres legally vulnerable to partition sales, clouded titles, and involuntary dispossession. Between 1950 and 1969 alone, discriminatory USDA lending practices resulted in the denial or limitation of 13,000 farm ownership and operating loans to Black farmers—loans that would have totaled approximately $4.8 billion in today’s dollars. Without institutional guidance, Black landowners have been systematically stripped of generational wealth, losing an estimated $326 billion in land value over the 20th century.

White land-grant universities spent 150 years building wealth from land that was stolen from Indigenous nations and denied to African Americans. They built forestry programs, extension services, research forests, and land-management infrastructures that allowed White landowners to stay on their land, grow its value, and profit from its timber, minerals, water, and agricultural productivity. The 1862 land-grant institutions received over 10.7 million acres of expropriated Indigenous land, generating endowments worth billions. In contrast, the 1890 land-grant HBCUs—established under the second Morrill Act—received a combined total of only 160,000 acres, most of it marginal or non-forested. Even today, 1890 institutions receive approximately 4-5% of the total federal funding allocated to land-grant universities, perpetuating a resource gap that began at their founding. African American landowners, in contrast, navigated some of the most complex land-related challenges in America without the technical support, policy guidance, or institutional backing that White landowners received as a matter of routine. The lack of a national HBCU-based forestry apparatus meant Black landowners were often negotiating timber contracts in the dark, entering carbon deals without verification, handling wildfire risks without training, and dealing with heirs’ property without legal or forestry guidance. The result was predictable: millions of acres lost, billions of dollars gone, and rural Black communities left economically hollowed out.

The proposed HBCU Forest Service is the long-overdue institutional correction to this century of loss. It is designed not as a campus-by-campus program, but as a national institutional system that serves African American landowners wherever they are—Georgia, Wisconsin, Oklahoma, Washington, Alabama, Maine, Maryland, Arkansas, California, New York, and beyond. It recognizes that African American land stretches far beyond the traditional HBCU footprint, and therefore, the institutional ecosystem that serves that land must be national in scope. The HBCU Forest Service would provide forest management plans, wildfire protection support, timber sale oversight, carbon market literacy, forest-tech tools, drone mapping, heirs’ property resolution guidance, and contractor connections to Black landowners across the nation. For the first time in history, Black land would have a dedicated institutional guardian.

The scale of need is immense. Currently, there are fewer than 50 Black foresters employed by the U.S. Forest Service out of a workforce of approximately 30,000—a representation rate of less than 0.2%. Across the entire forestry sector, African Americans constitute only 1.6% of the workforce, despite owning substantial forested acreage. The national forestry workforce crisis presents an urgent opening: over 60% of the current forestry workforce is over the age of 45, with retirement waves expected to eliminate thousands of positions over the next decade. Meanwhile, wildfire suppression costs have exceeded $2 billion annually in recent years, with shortages in trained wildfire personnel reaching critical levels. Timber harvesting, forest management, carbon accounting, GIS analysis, and drone-based forest monitoring all face severe labor shortages. The HBCU Forest Service could address this national crisis while simultaneously protecting Black land assets.

But to anchor such an institution, HBCUs need land. Not theoretical land, not symbolic land—real acreage, real forests, real timber assets, and real natural resource portfolios that can generate long-term institutional revenue. This is where the creation of the HBCU Land Trust becomes indispensable.

The HBCU Land Trust would serve as the land-owning entity for the HBCU Forest Service, holding deeded forestland, conservation easements, carbon-rich acreage, agroforestry plots, and donated parcels. It would acquire land strategically—using philanthropy, federal land transfers, state partnerships, and market purchases to build a multi-state network of HBCU-owned forests. These forests would generate revenue through timber, carbon credits, biomass, recreation, hunting leases, conservation finance, and forest-tech partnerships. The White land-grant universities built their institutional power on their land; the HBCU Land Trust gives HBCUs the same opportunity for the first time in history.

Consider the financial possibilities. Well-managed timberland generates annual returns averaging 4-7% through timber sales, with additional revenue streams from carbon offset markets now valued at $2 billion globally and growing. A 10,000-acre HBCU-owned forest could generate $200,000-$500,000 annually through sustainable timber harvesting alone, with carbon credits potentially adding $50,000-$150,000 per year depending on forest type and market conditions. Hunting leases, recreation fees, and biomass sales provide additional income. Over time, land appreciation typically outpaces inflation, building endowment value. If the HBCU Land Trust acquired just 100,000 acres nationally—less than 10% of what was given to single 1862 land-grant institutions—it could generate $2-5 million in annual revenue while creating a $100-300 million asset base for HBCUs.

Combined, the HBCU Forest Service and the HBCU Land Trust form the institutional foundation required to finally stabilize and grow the African American land base. They provide a system capable of addressing the national forestry workforce crisis, which presents a rare moment of opportunity. Foresters are retiring. Timber workers are aging out. Wildfire fighters are in short supply. Drone and GIS technicians, carbon analysts, and forest-thinning contractors are in high demand. HBCUs can build national pipelines into these fields, producing graduates who can serve federal agencies, state forestry divisions, private timber companies, landowner cooperatives, and forest-tech startups. Workforce transformation can become institutional transformation.

The institutional ecosystem protecting Black land cannot function without robust legal infrastructure, which is where HBCU law schools become essential partners. Currently, there are five HBCU law schools—Howard University School of Law, North Carolina Central University School of Law, Southern University Law Center, Texas Southern University Thurgood Marshall School of Law, and Florida A&M University College of Law—serving a combined enrollment of approximately 2,000 students. These institutions must become centers for land rights law, environmental law, property law, and natural resources law as they relate to African American communities.

HBCU law schools can establish specialized legal clinics focused on heirs’ property resolution, helping to clear clouded titles that currently affect an estimated 3.5 million acres of Black-owned land worth approximately $28 billion. Law students, under faculty supervision, could provide pro bono title research, estate planning, partition defense, and property rights advocacy to Black landowners nationwide. These clinics would serve dual functions: protecting Black land while training the next generation of attorneys equipped to navigate complex rural property issues.

Beyond direct legal services, HBCU law schools should develop certificate programs in natural resources law, forestry law, carbon market regulation, conservation easements, and Indigenous land rights. They can produce research on discriminatory land-loss patterns, advocate for policy reforms at state and federal levels, and represent Black landowners in timber contract disputes, USDA discrimination cases, and environmental justice litigation. Howard Law School’s history of civil rights litigation provides a powerful model: just as Thurgood Marshall and Charles Hamilton Houston used legal strategy to dismantle segregation, a new generation of HBCU-trained attorneys can deploy legal expertise to defend Black land.

HBCU law schools can also partner directly with the HBCU Forest Service and HBCU Land Trust to provide legal counsel on land acquisitions, conservation easements, carbon credit contracts, timber sales, liability issues, and partnership agreements. This integration ensures that every land transaction, every forest management decision, and every carbon market engagement is legally sound and protects Black institutional interests. The legal infrastructure must be as sophisticated as the forestry infrastructure—both are necessary for land protection to succeed.

While the HBCU Forest Service provides ongoing technical assistance and the HBCU Land Trust builds institutional land holdings, there remains a critical need for comprehensive landowner education. This is where the 1890 Foundation can play a transformative role by developing an African American Landowners School—a national certification program that equips Black landowners with the knowledge, skills, and networks necessary to manage, protect, and profit from their land.

The 1890 Foundation, which represents the 19 land-grant HBCUs established under the 1890 Morrill Act, is uniquely positioned to design and coordinate this program. These institutions—including Tuskegee University, Alabama A&M University, Alcorn State University, University of Arkansas at Pine Bluff, Delaware State University, Florida A&M University, Fort Valley State University, Kentucky State University, Southern University, University of Maryland Eastern Shore, Alcorn State University, Lincoln University, North Carolina A&T State University, Central State University, Langston University, South Carolina State University, Tennessee State University, Prairie View A&M University, and Virginia State University—have deep roots in agriculture, land management, and rural community engagement.

The African American Landowners School would offer tiered certification programs:

Level 1 – Foundational Land Stewardship (40 hours): Covering basic forest ecology, timber identification, wildfire risk assessment, heirs’ property basics, forest management planning, and financial record-keeping for landowners.

Level 2 – Advanced Forest Management (80 hours): Including timber cruising and valuation, sustainable harvesting techniques, wildlife habitat management, prescribed burning, carbon market fundamentals, contract negotiation, and tax strategies for forestland owners.

Level 3 – Professional Land Management Certification (120 hours): Featuring advanced silviculture, forest business management, carbon credit verification, conservation easement structuring, forest technology applications (GIS, drones, remote sensing), estate planning for land succession, and cooperative development.

The program would be delivered through a hybrid model: online coursework accessible nationwide, regional in-person intensives held at 1890 institutions, field training in HBCU Land Trust forests, mentorship from experienced Black landowners and foresters, and ongoing technical support through the HBCU Forest Service. Participants would graduate with recognized credentials that qualify them for forestry cost-share programs, conservation easement agreements, carbon market participation, and preferential lending from USDA and rural development programs.

Critically, the African American Landowners School would create a national network of trained Black landowners who can support one another, share resources, negotiate collectively, and build political power. Currently, Black landowners are isolated, scattered across rural areas with limited peer support. A certification program brings them together, fostering cooperation that can lead to timber cooperatives, shared equipment purchases, group carbon credit sales, and collective advocacy. Research shows that landowner cooperatives can increase timber sale returns by 15-30% through collective bargaining and improved market access. For Black landowners managing 1.1 million acres of timberland worth $3.4 billion, even modest improvements in management and market access could generate hundreds of millions of dollars in additional wealth.

The 1890 Foundation could launch the African American Landowners School with relatively modest initial investment—$5-10 million could establish curriculum development, hire coordinators at each 1890 institution, build the online learning platform, and fund the first three years of programming. Federal funding through USDA, particularly through programs like the 2501 Outreach and Technical Assistance Program and the Beginning Farmer and Rancher Development Program, could provide substantial support. Private philanthropy focused on land rights, environmental justice, and HBCU capacity-building would likely respond enthusiastically to a program addressing such a critical gap. Within five years, the program could certify 5,000-10,000 Black landowners, protecting hundreds of thousands of acres and generating measurable increases in landowner income and land retention rates.

But the greatest opportunity extends beyond U.S. borders. The forestry domain is inherently Pan-African. Africa is home to the Congo Basin—one of the world’s most important carbon sinks, spanning approximately 500 million acres and sequestering an estimated 1.5 billion tons of carbon dioxide annually. The basin’s forests store approximately 30 billion tons of carbon, equivalent to three years of global emissions. Yet deforestation rates across Africa have accelerated, with the continent losing nearly 10 million acres of forest per year. The Caribbean faces extreme deforestation pressures, soil erosion, and climate disasters that demand sophisticated forestry and land-management responses. Haiti, for instance, has lost 98% of its original forest cover, contributing to devastating landslides, soil degradation, and food insecurity. Jamaica has worked to reverse deforestation but still struggles with sustainable forest management amid climate pressures.

Across the Diaspora, land is under threat from foreign corporate acquisition, climate change, monocrop agriculture, and extractive agreements that leave local populations poorer and more vulnerable. China alone has invested over $6 billion in African forestry and timber operations since 2000, often through deals that export raw logs while providing minimal local economic benefit. European carbon offset projects have acquired millions of acres of African land, sometimes displacing local communities while claiming climate benefits. The lack of institutional capacity—forestry expertise, carbon market literacy, legal infrastructure, and scientific research—leaves African and Caribbean nations at a severe disadvantage in these negotiations.

The HBCU Forest Service could evolve into a Pan-African Forestry Consortium, linking HBCUs with African and Caribbean universities, forestry ministries, timber cooperatives, carbon negotiators, and agroforestry innovators. Through this alliance, African American students could train in Ghanaian, Kenyan, Liberian, or Jamaican forests, while African and Caribbean students train in U.S. forest ecosystems. Joint carbon programs could give the Diaspora collective leverage in international climate markets. Mass timber innovations could be shared. Wildfire science could be exchanged. Agroforestry models could be built collaboratively. And the HBCU Land Trust could help structure cross-border land protection strategies that empower communities rather than dispossess them.

Consider the strategic possibilities. African carbon credits currently trade at $5-15 per ton, far below the $20-50+ per ton available in voluntary markets, largely due to lack of verification infrastructure and negotiating capacity. A Pan-African Forestry Consortium could establish regional verification labs, train carbon auditors, and negotiate collective carbon contracts that capture fair market value. If African nations could increase average carbon credit prices by just $10 per ton across 100 million acres of managed forest, that would generate an additional $1 billion annually in revenue—funds that could flow to rural communities, support reforestation, and build local economies.

Similarly, the Consortium could develop Pan-African timber certification systems that ensure sustainable harvesting while commanding premium prices in global markets. Currently, less than 10% of African timber is certified as sustainably harvested, limiting market access and pricing power. HBCU forestry expertise could change that, building systems that protect forests while increasing economic returns.

This global dimension matters because the future of Black sovereignty—whether American, Caribbean, or African—will be shaped by land. Carbon markets are becoming geopolitical battlegrounds, with carbon credit values projected to reach $50-100 billion annually by 2030. Forest reserves determine climate resilience, with the UN estimating that 1.6 billion people worldwide depend directly on forests for their livelihoods. Timber supply chains influence global construction, particularly as mass timber emerges as a sustainable building material with markets projected to exceed $30 billion by 2030. Nations that control forests will shape the climate future; nations that lose them will be shaped by it. HBCUs, through the HBCU Forest Service and HBCU Land Trust, can become leaders in this global domain rather than spectators.

At home, the institutional pairing of the HBCU Forest Service, HBCU Land Trust, HBCU law schools, and the African American Landowners School would revitalize rural Black communities through forestry-based economic development. Sawmills, micro-mills, biomass facilities, mass timber factories, fire mitigation contractors, forest-restoration businesses, drone surveying companies, and carbon accounting firms can reshape local economies. These industries create jobs that cannot be outsourced, inject revenue into small towns, and reinforce land-based wealth.

The numbers are compelling. The U.S. forest products industry generates approximately $300 billion annually and employs over 900,000 workers. Yet Black ownership and employment in this sector remain negligible—less than 2% across most categories. Mass timber manufacturing alone is projected to grow from $1.1 billion in 2020 to $5.6 billion by 2028, creating thousands of new jobs. Rural communities with sawmills, timber processing, and wood products manufacturing have median household incomes 12-18% higher than similar communities without forest industry presence. For Black communities in the rural South, where poverty rates often exceed 25% and median household incomes lag $15,000-$20,000 below state averages, forestry-based economic development represents one of the few viable pathways to wealth creation.

HBCUs can anchor this development—training the workforce, advising the landowners, partnering with industries, and owning forests that serve as hubs for innovation. A single HBCU-anchored sawmill processing 5 million board feet annually could create 20-30 direct jobs with average wages of $40,000-$55,000, plus another 40-60 indirect jobs in logging, transportation, and support services. Across a network of 10-15 such facilities strategically located near Black-owned forestland, that’s 600-1,350 jobs generating $25-60 million in annual wages.

Beyond timber processing, carbon markets offer substantial revenue potential for Black landowners and rural economies. At current carbon credit prices of $15-20 per ton, a 1,000-acre forest could generate $10,000-$30,000 annually in carbon offset sales depending on forest type, age, and management. Scaled across 1.1 million acres of Black-owned timberland, that’s $11-33 million annually—revenue that currently goes largely unrealized because Black landowners lack access to carbon markets and verification infrastructure. The HBCU Forest Service could provide that access, channeling millions of dollars annually into Black rural communities.

The message is unambiguous: African American land needs institutional protection, and HBCUs need land to build institutional power. The HBCU Forest Service, HBCU Land Trust, HBCU law school land rights clinics, and the African American Landowners School provide both. Together, they represent the most significant institutional strategy available to African America for safeguarding land, generating wealth, shaping climate policy, rebuilding rural economies, and forging Pan-African alliances rooted in land, science, and sovereignty.

Initial funding could come from multiple sources. Federal appropriations through the 1890 land-grant system, currently receiving approximately $60-80 million annually, could be expanded with dedicated forestry allocations. The USDA’s Forest Service budget exceeds $7 billion annually—even a 1% set-aside for the HBCU Forest Service would provide $70 million in annual operating funds. The Inflation Reduction Act allocated $3.1 billion for climate programs at USDA, including forestry initiatives; HBCUs should be priority recipients for climate-focused forestry investments. Private philanthropy in climate, land rights, and HBCU capacity-building—sectors that have collectively deployed billions in recent years—represents another substantial funding pathway.

For land acquisition, the HBCU Land Trust could target federal land transfers (excess USDA and Forest Service lands), state surplus property, conservation-focused philanthropy, and strategic market purchases. Conservation easements, which allow landowners to retain ownership while protecting land from development, could be donated to the Trust with significant tax benefits for donors. Over a 10-year period, a combined investment of $500 million—$300 million for land acquisition, $150 million for HBCU Forest Service operations and infrastructure, $30 million for the African American Landowners School, and $20 million for HBCU law school land rights programs—could fundamentally transform Black land protection and build HBCU institutional power.

Forestry is not a side issue. It is the foundation of power that African American institutions have lacked for 150 years. It is the frontier that can redefine the economic trajectory of the next century. And the question is no longer whether HBCUs should enter this domain; it is whether they can afford not to. With 1.1 million acres of Black-owned timberland worth $3.4 billion at risk, with $326 billion in historical land loss unremedied, with 60% of Black land vulnerable to heirs’ property exploitation, with climate markets reshaping global power dynamics, and with institutional sovereignty on the line, the time for the HBCU Forest Service, HBCU Land Trust, HBCU law school land rights programs, and the African American Landowners School is now.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ClaudeAI.

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HBCUs Can Fill the Void: How America’s Retreat from Polar Research Creates an Unprecedented Opportunity for Black Academic Leadership

Posted on December 17, 2025 by | Leave a comment

“When I’m asked about the relevance to Black people of what I do, I take that as an affront. It presupposes that Black people have never been involved in exploring the heavens, but this is not so. Ancient African empires – Mali, Songhai, Egypt – had scientists, astronomers. The fact is that space and its resources belong to us, not to any one group.” – Mae Jemison

The United States government’s recent decision to withdraw its only research vessel from Antarctica represents more than a logistical setback for American science it signals a historic opportunity for Historically Black Colleges and Universities to claim leadership in one of the world’s most critical research frontiers.

When scientists like Alison Murray learned their Antarctic diving research would be indefinitely postponed due to the vessel withdrawal, it exposed a troubling reality: America is ceding scientific leadership in polar regions at precisely the moment when climate research has become existentially urgent. Yet within this crisis lies an opening that forward-thinking HBCU leaders and initiatives like the proposed HBCU Exploration Institute (HEI) should seize immediately.

The withdrawal of U.S. research capabilities from Antarctica isn’t happening in isolation. It reflects broader federal retreat from exploratory science across multiple domains from deep-sea mapping to atmospheric research to space exploration. As scientists told The Washington Post, building a replacement vessel could take years, leaving a generation of young researchers without access to critical field sites and diminishing American influence on a continent where geopolitical and scientific stakes are rising rapidly.

Currently, only a handful of nations operate dedicated Antarctic vessels capable of navigating the continent’s treacherous ice-choked waters. As America pulls back, countries including China, Russia, and even smaller nations are expanding their polar research fleets and infrastructure. This isn’t merely about scientific prestige it’s about who shapes climate policy, who controls access to research sites, who sets international standards for environmental stewardship, and ultimately, who benefits from discoveries made in these frontier regions.

For HBCUs, this federal abandonment creates a three-fold opportunity: to fill genuine research gaps with immediate societal value, to establish institutional leadership in high-stakes scientific domains, and to fundamentally reframe the narrative about who leads exploration and discovery in the 21st century.

The HBCU Exploration Institute concept outlined in its founding business plan isn’t simply about participating in exploration it’s about transforming who controls the means of discovery. The proposed organization would operate research vessels, aircraft, field stations, and space payloads governed and staffed by HBCU talent, creating a parallel infrastructure to traditional federal research systems. This model offers several strategic advantages in the current moment. First, HBCUs can move with greater institutional agility than large federal bureaucracies. While government agencies debate budget allocations and political appointees shift priorities with each administration, a Pan-African, HBCU-led exploration organization could secure diverse funding streams—from philanthropic foundations to international partnerships to corporate sponsors—that insulate research from political winds.

HBCUs bring essential perspectives to exploration science that mainstream institutions have historically marginalized. The concept of “exploration power” examining whose data is gathered, who gathers it, and who benefits is central to HEI’s mission. This isn’t abstract ethics; it’s practical strategy. Research conducted in partnership with African and Caribbean institutions, for example, can build diplomatic relationships and shared intellectual property frameworks that strengthen both African American and African Diaspora scientific capacity. The HBCU network represents untapped human capital. Talented Black students and faculty have faced persistent barriers to entry in traditional exploration fields, from oceanography to aerospace. An HBCU-led initiative could create direct pipelines from undergraduate research to polar expeditions to faculty positions, bypassing gatekeeping mechanisms that have kept exploration science predominantly white and economically privileged.

Perhaps most significantly, launching an HBCU exploration initiative at this moment positions these institutions as leaders not just in American higher education, but within the global African diaspora’s intellectual ecosystem. African and Caribbean nations are rapidly expanding their own scientific capabilities. The African Union Space Agency, launched in recent years, coordinates satellite programs and space research across the continent. Caribbean nations are investing in climate resilience research essential to their survival. Yet many of these institutions lack the infrastructure, funding, and international partnerships that even modestly-resourced American HBCUs can access.

An HBCU Exploration Institute operating polar icebreakers, conducting deep-sea research, and launching satellite payloads wouldn’t just advance American science it would establish HBCUs as anchor institutions for Pan-African scientific collaboration. Imagine Howard University leading joint oceanographic research with the University of Ghana, or Spelman College coordinating atmospheric monitoring stations across the Caribbean. The reputational gains would be transformative. This matters for recruitment, fundraising, and influence. Prospective students choosing between HBCUs v. PWIs would see real HBCU ships, real HBCU expeditions, and real HBCU career pathways into exploration science. Donors and foundations seeking to support climate research and diversity initiatives simultaneously would find a natural home. And HBCU presidents would have new platforms for thought leadership on issues from climate power to space policy to scientific diplomacy.

Here’s an uncomfortable truth: this initiative will only succeed if HBCU alumni associations mobilize with the same intensity, pride, and financial commitment they bring to homecoming football games and basketball tournaments. Every fall, HBCU alumni pour millions into athletics for season tickets, tailgate sponsorships, facility upgrades, coaching staff salaries. Alumni associations organize elaborate events, coordinate donor campaigns, and celebrate athletic achievements with genuine institutional pride. The Battle of the Real HU generates more alumni engagement and media attention than most academic programs receive in a decade. That energy, that organizational capacity, that willingness to invest must now be redirected toward exploration science with the same fervor.

Imagine if Howard University’s alumni association launched a “Name a Research Station” campaign with the same production value as a homecoming concert. Picture Spelman graduates organizing Antarctic expedition watch parties with the same enthusiasm as NCAA tournament viewing events. Envision FAMU’s National Alumni Association creating an “Explorers Circle” giving society that receives the same social prestige as premium athletic booster clubs. This isn’t criticism of HBCU athletics culture it’s a call to expand that culture to encompass scientific exploration. The infrastructure already exists. Alumni associations know how to run capital campaigns, coordinate reunion giving, leverage social networks, and create moments of collective pride. These skills transfer directly to funding research vessels and field stations.

The proposed HBCU Exploration Institute requires $102 million over three years. That sounds daunting until you consider that HBCU athletic programs collectively generate hundreds of millions annually, most of it from student fees. A coordinated campaign across major HBCU alumni networks—Howard, Spelman, Morehouse, Hampton, Tuskegee, FAMU, North Carolina A&T, Southern, Jackson State, Prairie View A&M—could realistically raise $25-30 million in year one if alumni leadership treats this with athletic-level urgency. Some institutions have already demonstrated this model. When North Carolina A&T needed to upgrade its engineering facilities, alumni responded with major gifts because they understood engineering excellence as core to institutional identity. Spelman’s alumni have funded science facilities and research programs. But these efforts have remained institution-specific and episodic. What’s needed now is collective, sustained mobilization.

Alumni associations must take several concrete actions immediately. First, every major HBCU alumni organization should establish an Exploration Science Committee with the same organizational status as athletic support committees. These groups would coordinate giving campaigns, identify potential major donors from alumni ranks, and create visibility for exploration research. Second, alumni homecoming and reunion events must begin celebrating scientific exploration with the same pageantry as athletics. Feature returning researchers presenting expedition findings. Honor alumni working in climate science, oceanography, and aerospace with the same recognition as athletic hall of fame inductees. Create traditions around scientific achievement that become part of institutional identity.

Third, alumni networks must leverage their professional positions to open doors. HBCU graduates work throughout corporate America, foundation leadership, and government agencies. An organized alumni effort could secure corporate sponsorships, foundation meetings, and federal partnership discussions that individual institutions struggle to access. When Hampton alumni at NASA advocate for HBCU partnerships, or Spelman graduates at the Mellon Foundation champion exploration science grants, institutional barriers dissolve. Fourth, alumni giving must be restructured to prioritize exploration infrastructure. Many alumni give to scholarship funds or general operating budgets, which is valuable but doesn’t build transformative capacity. Alumni associations should create specific endowments for vessel operations, expedition funding, and fellowship programs—tangible assets that generate sustained visibility and research output.

The cultural shift required is significant but not unprecedented. HBCU alumni already understand institutional pride, collective identity, and the power of coordinated action. They’ve built that culture around athletics because athletics has been positioned as central to HBCU identity and excellence. Exploration science must now be positioned the same way. This means changing the narrative from “HBCUs need better STEM programs” to “HBCUs will lead humanity’s next era of discovery.” It means alumni bragging about their school’s Antarctic expedition with the same pride they show for conference championships. It means young alumni seeing paths to exploration careers at their alma maters, not just at mainstream institutions.

The financial model becomes achievable when viewed through this lens. If each of the top 20 HBCU alumni associations committed to raising just $5 million over three years for exploration science—less than many spend on athletic facility upgrades—the startup capital is secured. Add foundation grants and federal partnerships, and the budget is covered. But more than money, alumni provide legitimacy, momentum, and accountability. When alumni demand progress on exploration science initiatives with the same intensity they demand winning seasons, institutional leadership responds. When alumni celebrate research expeditions with the same enthusiasm as rivalry games, prospective students take notice. When alumni networks coordinate giving and advocacy, transformation becomes possible.

The HEI business plan proposes a $102 million startup budget over three years to acquire vessels, establish field stations, fund expeditions, and build fellowship programs. That’s substantial, but it’s also achievable given current philanthropic interest in both climate research and HBCU development. The Bezos Earth Fund has committed billions to climate research. The Mellon Foundation has prioritized HBCU infrastructure investment. NASA and NOAA, despite federal constraints, actively seek diverse institutional partnerships. A well-organized HBCU consortium could secure multi-year commitments from these sources, particularly by framing the initiative as addressing federal research gaps.

The immediate focus should be marine research, where the vessel shortage is acute. Acquiring or leasing even one ocean-capable research ship—potentially a refitted commercial vessel—would allow HBCUs to begin Antarctic and Arctic research within two years rather than waiting for federal capacity to rebuild. Partnering with international research programs could offset operational costs while building the diplomatic relationships that strengthen HBCU global standing. Field stations in strategic locations like the Gulf Coast, Alaska, Ghana, the U.S. Virgin Islands would serve multiple functions: research platforms, student training sites, and hubs for international collaboration. These don’t require massive funding; even modest facilities become transformative when they provide HBCU students access to environments and equipment unavailable on their home campuses.

The fellowship and expedition programs are equally critical. Summer research academies focusing on polar, marine, and aerospace exploration would create immediate visibility and impact. Graduate fellowships with guaranteed expedition participation would attract top-tier students who might otherwise choose mainstream programs. Faculty sabbaticals at international field sites would bring research capacity and publications that elevate institutional rankings.

Predictable objections will emerge: HBCUs lack the expertise, the infrastructure, the established research networks. But these arguments mistake historical exclusion for inherent incapacity. HBCUs have produced astronauts, oceanographers, and polar scientists they’ve simply done so while their parent institutions received minimal support for exploration science infrastructure. Moreover, the proposed model explicitly builds on existing strengths. Many HBCUs have robust Earth science, environmental science, and physics programs that lack only field research opportunities. The institute wouldn’t create scientific capacity from nothing; it would provide the ships, stations, and funding to activate capacity that already exists but remains underutilized. The real risk isn’t that HBCUs might fail at exploration science it’s that by not trying, they’ll watch other institutions and nations claim leadership in domains that will define 21st-century research prestige and funding.

Federal withdrawal from Antarctic research won’t reverse quickly. Budget constraints, political dysfunction, and competing priorities mean the vessel gap could persist for a decade or more. That timeline perfectly matches the HEI five-year development plan, which envisions operational vessels and field stations by year three and landmark research publications by year four. HBCUs face a choice. They can wait for federal capacity to rebuild, competing for scarce berths on research vessels if and when they return to service. Or they can recognize this moment as the opportunity it is: a chance to build independent exploration infrastructure, establish diaspora research leadership, and fundamentally shift the narrative about who belongs in humanity’s most ambitious scientific endeavors.

But this choice isn’t just for presidents and administrators it’s for the millions of HBCU alumni whose collective power remains largely untapped for scientific advancement. The same alumni networks that fill stadiums, fund athletic scholarships, and travel across the country for homecoming games must now channel that organizational capacity toward building research fleets and exploration programs. The motto proposed for the HBCU Exploration Institute is “To Discover, To Lead, To Belong.” That sequence matters. Discovery creates the intellectual foundation. Leadership transforms institutions and influences policy. But belonging establishing permanent presence in exploration science requires infrastructure, commitment, and the willingness to act when opportunities emerge.

America’s retreat from Antarctica isn’t just a setback for researchers like Alison Murray. It’s an invitation for institutions that have been systematically excluded from exploration science to step forward and claim the leadership role they’ve always been capable of holding. The question is whether HBCU leaders and, crucially, whether HBCU alumni will recognize this moment and seize it before it passes. The energy, pride, and resources are already there mobilized. Now they must be redirected toward putting HBCU names on research vessels sailing to Antarctica, field stations conducting climate research, and satellite payloads orbiting Earth. That’s a legacy worth more than any championship trophy.

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Central State’s Water Resources Program: An HBCU Answer to Kabwe’s Lead Poisoning Crisis

Posted on October 31, 2025 by | 1 comment

“What good are our institutions or our programs if they are not meant for the survival and empowerment of our people? We must be more than job seekers, we must be fighters for the Diaspora. These tools we learn have to be for a greater purpose.” – William A. Foster, IV

In Kabwe, Zambia, a seven-year-old girl named Winfrida sits in a classroom where learning feels like trying to climb a mountain barefoot. Once the site of one of the world’s largest lead mines, Kabwe is now infamous as perhaps the most lead-polluted place on earth. The town’s legacy of extraction has left behind poisoned soil, contaminated water, and a generation of children robbed of potential. At the same time, in Wilberforce, Ohio, a historically Black institution has been quietly developing an expertise that could one day prove critical to Kabwe’s recovery. Central State University, the nation’s only HBCU with a dedicated Water Resources Management program, is uniquely positioned to contribute to addressing this environmental catastrophe. The program’s interdisciplinary curriculum, rooted in both science and community engagement, is precisely the kind of training and research engine needed to tackle a challenge as complex as Kabwe’s. This moment offers a powerful illustration of how HBCUs too often overlooked in global problem-solving can step forward as leaders on the world stage. Central State’s water expertise is not only about classrooms and degrees. It could become an institutional bridge between African America and Africa, uniting technical skill with a shared historical experience of exploitation and resilience.

Kabwe’s crisis is the long shadow of a century of mining. The Broken Hill mine, opened in 1906 under British colonial rule, produced massive quantities of lead and zinc for global markets until it was shuttered in 1994. But its closure did not end the danger. Vast piles of lead-laden tailings remain exposed to the elements. Winds scatter toxic dust into homes, schools, and roads. During the rainy season, contaminated runoff seeps into rivers and groundwater. Decades later, blood-lead levels in Kabwe’s children remain among the highest recorded anywhere in the world. Symptoms range from learning disabilities and behavioral problems to stunted growth and organ damage. Entire generations risk being locked into cycles of poor health and diminished human capital. Remediation efforts have been fragmented. A World Bank-funded project cleaned some homes and public areas, but failed to address the core problem: the giant waste dumps that continue to spread contamination. Meanwhile, informal re-mining of tailings by small operators has created new pathways for lead exposure. Government plans for inter-ministerial action have stalled. The crisis persists.

Central State’s Water Resources Management program, housed in the C.J. McLin International Center for Water Resources Management, stands as a rare jewel in American higher education. Launched in 1987, it remains the only HBCU-based program of its kind, and one of the few nationally that integrates the full spectrum of water and environmental challenges. The program offers both a B.S. degree and a minor, blending coursework in hydrology, environmental law, geology, pollution control, waste management, policy, and economics. Students learn not only how water flows through ecosystems but how laws, institutions, and communities interact with those systems. Its graduates have gone on to positions at the USDA, EPA, and Department of Defense, demonstrating its credibility in shaping professionals who can influence policy and practice. Under the leadership of Dr. Ramanitharan Kandiah, the department has expanded its reach and visibility. His recognition as a Diplomate of the American Water Resources Engineers and as a fellow of the ASCE Environmental & Water Resources Institute affirms the program’s high standing. His research portfolio supported by the NSF, USDA, DoD, and others ranges from groundwater quality and evapotranspiration modeling to water equity and resilience in the face of climate extremes. In short, Central State has the expertise to contribute meaningfully to environmental crises far beyond Ohio. The Kabwe disaster could be the kind of global challenge where an HBCU asserts its value not only to African America but to the African continent.

One of CSU’s greatest strengths is its grounding in interdisciplinary, community-engaged research. Kabwe’s crisis is not just about chemistry and soil samples it is about public health, poverty, governance, and trust. CSU students and faculty could partner with Zambian universities and NGOs to design research that combines hard science with social impact. They could map the spread of lead contamination through GIS and remote sensing, conduct water and soil testing to identify high-risk zones, and collaborate with public health teams to link contamination data to health outcomes in children. Kabwe also requires not only outside expertise but the development of local technical capacity. CSU could establish exchange programs that bring Zambian students and environmental professionals to Wilberforce for intensive training in water resources management, while sending CSU students and faculty to Zambia for fieldwork. Over time, this would build a corps of professionals embedded in Kabwe itself, capable of sustaining remediation and monitoring efforts.

The crisis is as much political as technical. Regulatory failure has allowed unsafe re-mining and inadequate cleanup to persist. CSU’s curriculum in environmental law and policy could help train Zambian regulators, civil servants, and community leaders. Workshops or certificate programs led jointly with Zambian institutions could help build governance capacity around environmental enforcement, licensing, and long-term remediation planning. Central State’s new Research and Demonstration Complex, opening in 2025 with advanced soil and water testing labs, could serve as a hub for innovation in remediation technologies. Pilot projects tested in Ohio could then be adapted to Zambia’s conditions. Techniques such as phytoremediation using plants to extract toxins from soil or low-cost water filtration systems could be developed and deployed. Because CSU is an HBCU, its involvement would carry symbolic weight. African American institutions engaging with African crises offers a model of diaspora solidarity. CSU could partner not only with Zambian universities but also with African American financial institutions, philanthropies, and think tanks to mobilize resources. This would expand the pool of actors beyond the typical World Bank or European NGO model.

The role of HBCUs in international development is rarely discussed. Yet they represent a set of institutions with technical expertise in fields like agriculture, health, and environmental science, a cultural and historical connection to Africa that mainstream U.S. universities lack, and community-based models of engagement rooted in serving marginalized populations. When Kabwe is framed purely as a “developing world” problem to be solved by Western aid agencies, the solutions often miss the nuances of community empowerment and self-determination. When an HBCU steps in, it reframes the issue: this is not charity, it is solidarity. It is institutions of African descent collaborating across the Atlantic to repair the legacies of extraction and neglect.

What might it look like in practice for Central State to become part of the solution in Kabwe? It could mean signing a memorandum of understanding with a Zambian partner university, such as the University of Zambia, focusing on water resources, public health, and environmental law. It could involve joint research grants targeting international funders to support Kabwe remediation studies. It could build a student exchange pipeline bringing Zambian students into CSU’s WRM program, funded by scholarships from African American philanthropic foundations. It could convene technical workshops in Kabwe led by CSU faculty, introducing low-cost soil testing and community monitoring methods. And it could establish an annual Diaspora Conference on Water and Environmental Justice, hosted alternately in Wilberforce and Zambia, convening experts, policymakers, and community activists. Such initiatives would institutionalize the partnership, ensuring it is not a one-off but a long-term bridge.

Of course, such an ambitious agenda faces challenges. CSU itself is a relatively small university with an endowment dwarfed by predominantly White institutions. International partnerships require funding, travel infrastructure, and political will. Zambia’s regulatory environment has historically been weak, and vested interests in re-mining waste piles may resist intervention. Yet these obstacles underscore the importance of approaching the issue institutionally rather than individually. For CSU to engage Kabwe meaningfully, it must do so as part of a larger HBCU and African American institutional ecosystem. This could mean drawing on African American-owned banks and credit unions to structure financing, HBCU consortia to pool faculty expertise, and diaspora philanthropic vehicles, like donor-advised funds, to direct giving toward global environmental justice.

Why should an HBCU in Ohio devote resources to a crisis in Zambia? Because doing so not only aids Kabwe but strengthens HBCUs themselves. By engaging globally, CSU elevates its reputation, attracts research funding, and demonstrates the relevance of HBCU scholarship in solving world problems. Students who participate in such projects gain transformative experiences that prepare them for leadership at home and abroad. Moreover, the symbolism matters. Just as the mine in Kabwe exported lead to the world, the environmental devastation it left behind is a global responsibility. HBCUs, born from a legacy of exclusion and survival, understand better than most what it means to inherit poisoned ground and still create knowledge and opportunity from it. Their engagement reframes Kabwe not as a distant tragedy, but as part of a shared struggle for dignity, health, and justice.

The children of Kabwe cannot wait. Each year of inaction locks in more damage to developing minds and bodies. The town’s soil and water remain a slow-moving disaster. Yet hope lies in partnerships that transcend borders. Central State University’s Water Resources program is not a silver bullet. But it embodies the kind of holistic, interdisciplinary, and justice-oriented approach that Kabwe desperately needs. An HBCU stepping into the breach would demonstrate that solutions to global crises can come not only from the usual centers of power, but from institutions born in the struggle of African America. In Wilberforce and Kabwe alike, the message would be clear: water is life, and the institutions of African people must be at the forefront of protecting it.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

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