TIMERY SHANTE NANCE is an African-American woman who has a thing about her hair. “I don’t use chemicals or straighteners,” she said. “It’s just my natural texture, and I wear it in a normal-looking puff.
Now she wonders, as some other black women evidently do, whether the Transportation Security Administration also has a thing about their hair. Ms. Nance is the second black woman I’m aware of within a month who says she was racially profiled when a T.S.A. officer insisted on publicly patting down her hair after she had already gone though a full-body scan without setting off any alarm.
Ms. Nance was departing from the airport in San Antonio in late July. After she passed through the body scanner, she said, a female T.S.A. screener told her to stand facing her possessions. “You’re good to go, but first I have to pat your hair,” the officer told her, she said.
“I’m like, pat my hair? O.K., I guess,” Ms. Nance said.
But it wasn’t O.K. Ms. Nance, who had been visiting her husband at the Air Force base where he is stationed, was deeply embarrassed as other passengers stared at her, “as if I’d done something wrong.”
She asked the screener why her hair was searched while others, including white women with ponytails or bushy hair, were simply waved through. “Is it just African-American women with natural hair who get the hair search?” she asked.
The screener said no, “but if you have certain kinds of ponytail or bun, you have to get your hair patted,” said Ms. Nance, who is 30.
Now, as I said, this is the second such recent incident. On June 30, a young African-American woman, Laura Adiele, said that a screener at the Seattle-Tacoma airport insisted on patting down her hair, which was also natural and curly, even though the body scan had not set off an alarm. Ms. Adiele said in various interviews that she thought the search had been racially motivated.
The T.S.A. denies that. “All passengers are thoroughly screened coming through the screening checkpoint,” said Kristin Lee, a spokeswoman. “Additional screening may be required for clothing, headgear or hair where prohibited items may be hidden,” she said.
The agency says it never uses racial or ethnic profiling — and I totally accept that assurance, as a matter of agency policy. But when I spoke to Ms. Nance, she seemed to see also a cultural issue, rather than a strictly racial one.
In what has become a mutually beneficial relationship for schools and students, many of the nation's 105 historically black colleges are increasingly wooing non-black students. The goals: to boost lagging enrollment and offset funding shortfalls.
Some black colleges are stepping up recruiting at mostly white or Hispanic high schools and community colleges. Delaware State University is bringing 100 Chinese students to its Dover campus this fall for cultural and language training. Other colleges are showcasing unique programs. Florida Memorial University in Miami Gardens promotes its chorale, which backed Queen Latifah in the 2010 Super Bowl, for example.
Even top-ranked black schools such as Howard University in Washington, D.C., and Spelman College in Atlanta, are recruiting more aggressively in the face of intensifying competition for top African-American students.
About 82% of students at the nation's 105 black colleges are African-American, a percentage that has been fairly constant over the past 30 years, according to a data analysis for this column by the Thurgood Marshall College Fund, a New York nonprofit. Increases in Hispanic and Asian students have offset declines in whites, partly because of cuts in federal- and state-scholarship programs that encouraged white students to attend historically black colleges, says the fund's president, Johnny C. Taylor Jr. He predicts growth in white, Hispanic and Asian enrollment, as black colleges cast a wider net.
Ms. Daugherty was looking for a school that offered flexible schedules. As a teenager, she lost interest in college after three semesters, dropped out and went to work. In time, she became interested in city planning and decided to go back to school. Tennessee State's downtown Nashville campus enabled her to combine a full-time course load with her job as a supervisor at a nonprofit performing-arts center. As at many black colleges, its cost—at $2,400 a semester—was low as well.
She quickly found her professors and fellow students friendly. Race would sometimes enter the conversation. In one class, she says, her sociology professor looked out at the 40 students, most of whom were black, and asked rhetorically, "When did you first become aware that you were black?" She says she locked eyes with one of the two other white students, laughed and mouthed the words, "Today, I guess!"
After graduating last weekend, Ms. Daugherty regards her experience as a big plus that prepared her to live in a diverse society. "It has expanded me as a person."
Tennessee State's interim president, Portia Holmes Shields sees its mission as a public university to provide a quality education to students of all races, she says. While some older alumni are uneasy with the increasing diversity, younger grads embrace it, says the former dean of education at Howard University.
Michael Sorrell, president of tiny Paul Quinn College in Dallas, says black colleges must stay committed to their historical mission as "beacons of light" for students who need resources and support. "My difference is, I just don't assign a race to that."
After being hired in 2007 to help solve the school's financial and accreditation problems, Mr. Sorrell told alumni that the campus would soon "look dramatically different," he says. "It doesn't mean that we've turned our backs" on the college's historical constituency. "It means we've expanded our mission and our definition of who will benefit," he says. No alumni have objected, he adds.
Part of his strategy is to recruit top students of all races to serve as campus leaders, by offering personal mentoring, full $20,000-a-year scholarships and a post-graduation job guarantee. Among these 20 hand-picked "presidential scholars," six have been white or Hispanic. This fall, African-American enrollment among Paul Quinn's 200 students will likely drop to 85% from about 94% last year.
Some black colleges, of course, are doing relatively well financially. Headed for 43 years by current president Norman Francis, an adroit fund-raiser, Xavier University of Louisiana in New Orleans has more than doubled its endowment since 2005 to nearly $134 million, larger than that of many black colleges.
Many schools have track records in producing top African-American professionals. Xavier sends more black students to medical school than any other U.S. college and is among the top-three producers of African-American pharmacists with doctorate degrees.
With just 7,000 undergrads, Howard produces more African-American graduates who go on to earn doctorate degrees in science and engineering than any other college in the country, the National Science Foundation says. Second is Spelman, with about 2,100 students.
"They do it by really nurturing students and providing role models—not by fostering a competitive cutthroat environment," says Marybeth Gasman, professor of higher education at the University of Pennsylvania's graduate school of education.
Black colleges do a good job by another measure, in educating students who enroll with less money and lower college-entrance test scores, on average, than incoming freshmen at other schools. Historically black colleges and universities enroll 16% of all black undergrads, but award 25% of the bachelor's degrees received by African Americans, Dr. Gasman says.
