“Pockets of Hope”
By AnnikA EngElBrEcht News Editor
In 1967, then-Superior General of the Society of Jesus Rev. Pedro Arrupe, S.J., urged Jesuit universities across America—many of which had only recently begun to admit Black students—to join Black activists and become more involved in the ongoing fight against racism.
Boston College took Arrupe’s message to heart.
When the Supreme Court struck down affirmative action in 2023, it reshaped the landscape of college admissions across the U.S.
For BC, this decision presented a new challenge in its ongoing efforts to increase Black student enrollment—efforts that had already faced setbacks despite decades of recruitment initiatives
As BC navigates this evolving landscape, its admissions and recruitment strategies play a key role in shaping the diversity of its student body.
Early Minority Recruitment Efforts
In February 1968, then-University President Rev. Michael P. Walsh, S.J., launched the Negro Talent Search (NTS), which included a $100,000 scholarship fund and recruitment initiative for Black students in the greater Boston area.
“Students here have not been sufficiently attuned to the Negroes of their own age group,” said Joseph McCarthy, co-coordinator of the NTS, in 1968. “To realize that there is a wide divergence among Negroes themselves—complexities and spectrums of thought and opinion exist in the Negro Community.”
In its first year, the NTS added 51 Black students to BC’s population.
Each student received at least $1,000 in aid. At the time, Black students made up less than 1 percent of the student body.
Over the summer of 1968, the program was renamed the Black Talent Program (BTP).
The BTP became student-run in 1971 after its faculty advisor, A. Robert Philips, resigned.
In 1972, BC set a goal to maintain a 10 percent minority population within its undergraduate student body.
The same year, the University began searching for a dean of minority students to lead a program centered around minority student experience and admissions.
The University approved its first affirmative action plan in February 1973. Two years earlier, in September 1971, BC had appointed Alice Jeghelian as the inaugural director of affirmative action.
As BC rolled out its new plan, the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare began to investigate the University for its low minority population and the efficacy of the affirmative action plan.
The 1973 plan included five components centered around increasing minority and women’s presence on campus and providing ways to report inequalities.
In 1974, Jerry Lee, then-current student coordinator of the BTP, accused the University of making a “deliberate move” to reduce the number of students admitted into the program.
According to Lee, the University had not increased the scholarship funds the BTP received despite a 5 percent rise
in tuition, which limited the number of students the program could admit and the amount of financial aid they could provide.
Then-Executive Vice President Francis Campanella denied the charges by Lee and Michael Gee, student vice coordinator of BTP. He said the University “had an honest, straightforward commitment” to increasing the minority population and described the BTP as a one-of-a-kind program.
In 1976, however, the University transferred the responsibility for admitting minority students to the Office of Freshmen Admissions and Financial Aid, effectively ending the BTP’s influence on campus.
Recruitment Post-Affirmative Action
At the end of the BTP’s tenure, the Black student population had reached 361. Nearly five decades later, in 2023, 656 Black students accounted for roughly 7.53 percent of the 8,708 undergraduates who are U.S. citizens. The data does not account for the race or ethnicity of international students.
The same year, the SCOTUS ended the use of affirmative action.
In a statement to The Heights, Dean of Undergraduate Admissions and Financial Aid Grant Gosselin said beginning last year, the race of applicants, if provided, is hidden from reviewers.
“While the SCOTUS ruling prohibits the consideration of race in the decision-making process, the Court was clear to note that the decision should not suggest that schools are prohibited from considering an applicant’s discussion of how race affected their life,” Gosselin wrote.
For the classes of 2026 and 2027, one of BC’s supplemental essays asked applicants to reflect on the “reckoning on racial justice in America” and how it has impacted their lives. The University has since omitted this question.
Gosselin noted that while none of BC’s supplemental essays explicitly asks applicants to write about race, each of the prompts offers an opportunity to do so if they choose.
After welcoming its first class following the SCOTUS ruling, BC reported that 6 percent of their incoming class identified as Black, marking a 1 percent decline from the Class of 2027.
Gosselin noted, however, that this percentage does not include the students who identify as both Black and Hispanic due to a 2010 U.S. Census policy. According to Gosselin, a more accurate figure for all students who identify as Black is roughly 8 percent.
“The Court was clear to note that the decision should not suggest that schools are prohibited from considering an applicant’s discussion of how race affected their life.”
Amid the dip in Black student enrollment for the class of 2028, Gosselin said the admissions team remains optimistic. BC, he pointed out, did not experience the same steep declines as other universities across the country.
“While we are disappointed with this year’s decline in Black student enrollment, we are encouraged that we did not experience the significant declines seen at some of our peer institutions,” Gosselin wrote. “We credit the strong recruitment foundation we’ve built over the years in establishing pipelines that serve us well.”
As a part of their recruitment efforts, Gosselin said the admissions staff visit more than 800 high schools across the country, including charter schools.
“While we are disappointed with this year’s decline in Black student enrollment, we are encouraged that we did not experience the significant declines seen at some of our peer institutions.”
“We commit to ensuring that each recruitment trip includes visits to a wide range of high schools—not only Jesuit, Catholic or independent high schools, but also a large number of public and charter schools,” Gosselin wrote. “In many urban areas, the latter schools are more likely to include larger percentages of AHANA students.”
In addition to high school visits, Gosselin said the Office of Undergraduate Admission collaborates with more than 100 community-based organizations (CBOs) that offer college counseling to students who do not have access to such resources at their high schools.
“In many instances, we are more likely to see qualified students who are interested in Boston College when visiting a CBO than when we visit the local public high school,” Gosselin wrote. “Public school counseling offices in many school districts are often so underfunded that their counselors don’t have time for college advising or even to encourage their students to attend a university visit at their high school.”
In the admissions office’s initial release of demographic data for the class of 2028, Gosselin credited partnerships with CBOs and QuestBridge for helping maintain diversity stability. He also shared that the admissions office prioritized increasing socioeconomic diversity for the Class of 2028 as well.
In 2020, BC partnered with QuestBridge, a non-profit organization that matches high-achieving, first-generation students from low-income families with universities. Each student matched through QuestBridge has their full financial need met, without loans, Gosselin said.
“This is an expensive partnership and one that speaks to Boston College’s strong
commitment to ensuring greater access to this extraordinary university,” Gosselin said. “Boston College ranks among the nation’s top QB National College Match partners.”
According to Gosselin, more than 400 students currently enrolled at BC were admitted through QuestBridge.
Where Do Admissions Go From Here?
Raquel Muñiz, associate professor in the Lynch School of Education and Human Development and an expert in higher education law, explained that the history of race in college admissions has its roots in the original 1954 Brown v. Board of Education case.
“One of the major things that I like to highlight about [ Brown v. Board of Education] is that at the core of it was a sense of racial equity,” Muñiz said.
Muñiz said the Brown ruling, along with the 1978 Regents of University of California vs. Bakke case, paved the way for the conversation on racial diversity in higher education.
“They were able to affirm that the use of race can be used to diversify the higher education community, and because of that, it’s sort of enshrined into law that diversity was a compelling interest,” Muñiz said. “And so it starts to create a doctrine, in some ways, that becomes durable over decades after.”
Despite the legalization of race-based admissions to diversify universities, Muñiz explained that over the decades, the use of race in admissions became more and more limited, ultimately leading to the landmark 2023 Students for Fair Admissions (SFFA) case.
“By this point, it is significantly narrow, and it gives a perfect way for the Supreme Court to finally put the nail in the coffin,” Muñiz said.
In Muñiz’s view, the SFFA case pitted minority communities against each other through its argument that Black students were unfairly admitted at the cost of other communities.
“Most of it has been a focus on anti-Blackness,” Muñiz said. “They do mention other minority communities, but [Black students are] the target based on their language.” The aftermath of the SFFA decision, Muñiz said, shed light on part of the motivation behind the lawsuit. According to Muñiz, SFFA accused higher education institutions of not being neutral after the percentage of Black students increased or remained stable, while the percentage of other racial groups declined.
“The assumption they would have is that the Black students could not get in but for their race being counted,” Muñiz said. “And so that, in itself, is a flawed assumption there, but also it tells you a lot about their motivation.”
Focusing on increasing socioeconomic diversity is a popular strategy to maintain diversity at higher institutions, Muñiz said. She explained, however, that the idea is not as effective in increasing racial diversity.
“That only captures those that might be on the lower socioeconomic status, but there’s a range of people who are Black or Latino or Asian—different communities that are on the spectrum in terms of economic status,” Muñiz said.
With regard to race-neutral approach-
es, Muñiz said that using these practices simply maintains the status quo instead of working to change it. Muñiz noted that research showed that the most effective way to increase diversity in higher education was the intentional use of race in admissions.
“The disparities are showing up,” Muñiz said. “They’re just not named. In many ways, race-neutral is simply keeping the status quo, so I don’t know that there is a neutral way to think about it.”
While colleges can still review applications holistically, the SCOTUS decision explicitly removes race from consideration, Muñiz said, making it difficult to increase diversity.
“It creates that effect of limiting the racial diversity piece of it while allowing the other ones to continue to exist, which I think is a missed opportunity and limiting many ways for colleges to really improve their diversity,” Muñiz said. Muñiz said she foresees that the number of Black and minority students will continue to decline at universities in the near future due to the politically polarizing climate the country is facing.
“The assumption they would have is that the Black students could not get in but for their race being counted.”
“The trend that we have seen—and that I would anticipate to continue—is a lot of self-censoring and people pulling back, like administrators, admissions officers, which is part of the larger ecosystem of admissions and administration and leaders kind of retreating,” Muñiz said.
According to Muñiz, religious institutions like BC could use their beliefs to guide admissions practices, creating a way to increase diversity while still looking at intersectionality.
“This brings in religious freedom, those kinds of constitutional protections that institutions like BC will have,” Muñiz said. “Like, ‘Yes, we agree with the court. We want a diverse student body, so we won’t use race explicitly, but we will continue to uphold our mission, our values, and we are considering these intersectional identities.’”
Although Muñiz noted the efforts of BC to increase diversity among the student population, she emphasized that not every college in the U.S. has the resources to do the same.
“Here at BC, there’s the different Messina College, they’ve started some other programming that they do with high school students besides Messina College,” Muñiz said. “There are those spaces where they are specifically hoping to increase the potential diverse student body.”
Despite nationwide trends of decreased enrollment and the possibility for admissions officers to overcorrect their enrollment targets, Muñiz remains optimistic that the pendulum will swing back. Muñiz said she hopes universities will make the effort over the coming years to increase diversity on campuses.
“I think there’s maybe pockets of hope, which takes resources and time and dedicated people out there, but it is possible,” Muñiz said. n
SARAH FLEMING / HEIGHTS EDITOR
By
kissel
Heroes Among Us
BC Professor’s App Helps Black Autistic Youth Build Communication Skills
Ed-Dee G. Williams wouldn’t describe himself as a hero.
Yet, that’s exactly what the Celtics—and the 19,600 fans at TD Garden—would call him.
Williams, an assistant professor at the Boston College School of Social Work, received the Celtics Heroes Among Us award on Dec. 7 for developing a communication simulation application designed for Black, autistic youth. The app, “Asking for Help”, enables users to practice social skills with the guidance of a virtual coach who offers praise and feedback.
But Williams wasn’t always sure this was the direction he would take.
“It hasn’t been linear, by any means,” Williams said. “I originally went to undergrad to be an architect and I got suspended after my first year. I was struggling with my academics. My GPA seemed like a 1.8 or something.”
He returned a year later with a different path in mind—sociology, particularly focused on the ongoing conversations around race.
Initially, a career in social work didn’t seem appealing to Williams.
“Social work was the field that took kids from their homes to me,” Williams said. His perspective would change, however, after learning about the field of clinical so-
cial work. The prospect of making a difference in the lives of people struggling with their mental health quickly captivated him.
“It just became kind of a natural next step,” Williams said. “I was like, ‘Oh, I would love to be a therapist and work with Black youth and Black adults who are navigating mental health concerns.”
A master’s in social work, followed by a Ph.D. in social work and sociology from the University of Michigan, set Williams on his path to help those who were struggling to help themselves.
“I could do this work,” Williams said. “I could be a professor and do this research.”
But Williams’ research is different. Instead of being confined to his desk, he starts by identifying the needs of the community.
“[My research] starts off with the community—what do they need, what they’re looking for, how can I support them,” Williams said. “And then it goes from that to what we can create, what can we build to address those needs.”
Williams grew up with a brother on the autism spectrum who struggled in systems that, according to Williams, didn’t meet his needs. This motivated Williams to explore ways to help Black, autistic youth.
The first step was recognizing the impact race and neurodivergence can have on how people view themselves and the world around them.
“Autism is an identity as much as it is a diagnosis,” Williams said. “Race is an identity as much as it is a racial identity, so each of them have specific ways in which it impacts people’s lives.”
These impacts often manifest themselves as challenges.
“To be autistic in U.S. society and deal with ableism, deal with mistreatment, deal with navigating a bureaucratic system that doesn’t always drive the services and resources you need, and then to be Black and deal with things like racism and discrimination and navigate programs that aren’t really tailored towards your community,” Williams said.
According to Williams, autistic youth are around four times more likely to experience depression than their non-autistic peers. But he noticed a surprising lack of dialogue surrounding this disparity.
“It’s just astronomically higher,” Williams said. “And I was like, ‘How is no one talking about this, like how is this not a thing to talk about?’”
Williams sought to understand this issue and find ways it could potentially be addressed.
“Let’s understand, what are some of the factors associated with depression for Black, autistic youth,” Williams said. “And then what kind of treatments and care can we bring in that are race-specific, that really think about people’s culture and their background and their experiences.”
Williams quickly realized that one of the biggest barriers to proper treatment and care for Black, autistic youth was the limited discourse around the subject.
“It’s not just depression, it’s how do you talk about it?” Williams said. “How do you get your youth to talk about it?”
While working with a community partner at the Color of Autism in Detroit, Williams began interviewing youth to try to better understand this phenomenon.
“I don’t know how to talk to my parents about this,” Williams said, quoting his interviewees. “My parents don’t want to talk to me about this.”
While working under Matthew Smith, a professor of social work at the University of Michigan, Williams was presented with an opportunity to create something to address this need.
SIMmersion, a communication technology app, approached him to ask if he had any ideas for an application for this purpose. He had a few.
“I got a billion ideas,” Williams said. “Are they realistic? I don’t know. We’ll see.”
Eventually, Williams landed on the idea of creating an application that would first educate youth on depression from a racially informed lens. The app would then simulate a conversation with a school teacher, helping youth learn how to express their feelings to others and seek help.
“Let’s see how well you can describe them and get help for what you’re experiencing,” Williams said. “And then it ends with, ‘Can you get the teacher to help you
talk to your parents?’”
The idea was promising, but testing revealed that different iterations might be needed for users at varying levels of the autism spectrum to better meet their unique needs. Some wanted the teacher to smile more, while others found the language too complex.
Overall, though, there was one response that Williams welcomed: the app was necessary.
“The people who’ve tested the program have overwhelmingly told us how much they enjoy it and how it is needed,” Williams said. “I can publish research papers all day. I can build 20 interventions. If no one needs them, or no one cares, or it’s not gonna impact, then what’s the point of it?”
David Nelson, MCAS ’27 and one of Williams’ research assistants, highlighted the impact of the simulation on Black youth, both in helping them manage their emotions and in navigating interactions with those who may struggle to understand autism.
“From what I’ve seen, a lot of people that are dealing with autism, they struggle not only labeling their emotions but navigating the world because the world doesn’t understand them,” Nelson said. “Seeing their faces light up when they have a tool that’s made for them, they feel special and heard.”
After conducting many test runs of the application, Williams realized that not only did the youth benefit from the simulation, but their parents did as well.
“A lot of parents don’t realize how widespread depression is for autistic youth,” Williams said. “So this is also for a lot of them an eye-opener, like ‘Oh wow, I didn’t realize how bad or high these rates were, so maybe I need to have a conversation with my child.’”
Parents of children with autism often face unique challenges as they adapt to the distinct needs and experiences of their children. Nelson helped Williams conduct a study that explored this relationship in the context of fatherhood.
“The first project that we were working on was the Black, autistic youth and fatherhood study,” Nelson said. “ That was essentially asking Black fathers who have children who are autistic about how their perceptions of fatherhood changed when they had an autistic youth.”
Research assistants like Nelson work under Williams’ project coordinator, Fatima Vakil, MSW ’25. Vakil is currently focused on expanding the app’s reach to a larger audience by applying for federal grants.
“We applied last year, we got some feedback, so we’re hoping to re-submit again,” Vakil said. “Once we hear back, we plan to scale this up and also implement a lot of
the feedback that we’re getting from the participants who we’re scheduling currently.”
Ultimately, Williams hopes that this extra support will help him adjust the simulation to meet the needs of youth from other racial backgrounds.
“And though, where this program is tailored towards Black, autistic youth, the goal will be long-term to say, ‘Hey can we take this and tailor it toward Latino youth, Asian youth, towards these different populations,’” Williams said.
An important factor that Williams must consider throughout the process is selecting the best placement for the simulation to reach the greatest number of autistic children. Vakil sees schools as important hubs where the application could be harnessed for everyday use.
“I think it would be really cool to see it in schools or specifically in special education programs or it to be widely accessible, like if primary care physicians can even recommend trying the program to help parents who are trying to assess whether or not their child needs help,” Vakil said.
Williams’ goals became a lot more attainable after he received the Heroes Among Us award at a Celtics game in December— an honor that took him by surprise.
“I didn’t expect it at all,” Williams said.
“Someone reached out to me on LinkedIn. I thought it was fake, to be honest.” As it turns out, it was anything but fake. Williams was greeted by a packed crowd at the Dec. 7 game, who cheered his name as he walked onto the court.
“In my head, no one’s gonna pay attention,” Williams said. “It was a standing ovation. People stood up and cheered. Some people tried chanting my name, which was really weird.”
Responses to his work and the award poured in from Williams’ family. His dad saw him on TV, and his son excitedly picked up a local newspaper at school that featured Williams’ story.
Williams was happy to integrate those who expressed interest into his research agenda.
“Being community engaged, for me, has been like, ‘Yeah they can help, absolutely,’” Williams said. “ I would love to actually have them be part of our advisory board and have a say in what we do with it and give us feedback on it throughout the time we’re developing it.”
Williams wants to get the community talking—no matter how uncomfortable those conversations may be.
“For Black, autistic youth, the first part is just awareness,” Williams said. “People try to avoid—I think oftentimes—things with race because they want to avoid that conversation. I say to people, ‘We can’t avoid the conversation if it’s actually having an impact, if it’s important here.’” n
Isolation to Empowerment
By Reetu AgnihotRi Asst. News Editor
nikitA osAdchiy
Asst. News Editor
When she was a freshman, Temilade Onile, CSOM ’26, found out her entire class had formed a study group without her.
“I only found out after the fact, when we had group projects and then they mentioned it,” Onile said. “I asked, ‘Oh, can I go?’ And they were like, ‘OK.’ When I got there, everybody was there. So, if I didn’t ask, I would have never known.”
In her classes, Onile said that there are times when she has felt out of place as the only Black student in the room—so much that she questioned the intent behind the isolation.
“Is it intentional? Or, is it like people don’t realize they’re doing it—singling people out?” Onile said. “I didn’t want to make it seem like, ‘Oh, people are against you.’ But it felt kind of polarizing.”
A Sense of Isolation
For many Black Carroll School of Management students, being one of the only students of color in a classroom is a common experience—one that can take a toll on their sense of belonging and academic confidence, according to Kiki Benson, CSOM ’25.
“It’s interesting when you go to class and you look around, and sometimes you’re maybe one of two people of color, but usually you’re just the only Black person,” Benson said. “Because of that,
you have a feeling like, ‘Oh my gosh, I’m the only one here.’ You get in your head a lot and have a lot of impostor syndrome.”
Demographic data on enrolled undergraduate students in CSOM was not provided to The Heights and is not publicly available online.
The lack of diversity both in and outside of the classroom discourages prospective students from attending BC and perpetuates a cycle of underrepresentation, said Gevans Gabeau, CSOM ’27.
“It’s interesting when you go to class and you look around, and sometimes you’re maybe one of two people of color, but usually you’re just the only Black person.”
“I think one of the main reasons that Black students don’t often want to come here, even if they do get into BC, is because there’s not a lot of people that look like them,” Gabeau said. “When you can go to a school just as good with more Black students, why come to BC?”
Gabeau said this isolation not only affects students emotionally but also limits their ability to form professional connections and access the same support networks as their peers.
“I wish there were more people that
look like me,” Gabeau said. “I think it would be a motivator for me to be able to get together and study technicals for investment banking—knowing that you’re going through the same process and having those people to talk to and relate with.”
Without peers who have shared similar experiences, Black students in CSOM often struggle to feel connected to the business world, according to Esosa Owens, CSOM ’26. The lack of Black faculty further exacerbates the challenge of finding mentorship and representation, she added.
“That mentorship aspect has definitely been a challenge,” Owens said. “I have to see how I even fit into the business world if I don’t necessarily have teachers that look like me or have similar challenges as me.”
“Small in Numbers, Mighty Together”
Lacking diversity and resources, Black CSOM students have created their own spaces for mentorship, guidance, and networking.
“I think [BC] could do a better job in feeding us resources because a lot of the clubs I’ve joined outside of school and the resources I have right now have come from students,” Gabeau said. “If I didn’t happen to be in the right place at the right time and meet these students, I wouldn’t have had the exposure to that at all, which is the function of [Black in Business Boston College].”
Black in Business BC, a student-founded organization, has led the effort to expose Black students to the competitive business world and provide them with
mentorship and resources—support that Benson believes BC has largely failed to provide.
Black in Business BC was founded in 2023 by Benson, along with Ashley-Rae Stewart, CSOM ’24, and Justin Holmes, CSOM ’26.
After noticing that many of their peers came into CSOM with a clear career trajectory and a plan to achieve it, the three of them decided to start Black in Business BC, according to Benson.
“It’s been helpful for students to feel more comfortable asking their questions about the industry, and also exposure because some students come in not even knowing that recruiting and getting your internship starts your first day of school,” Benson said.
Black in Business BC has been both informative and welcoming for Black students in CSOM, Benson said. Through the organization, members have had the opportunity to connect with professionals across industries like finance and consulting.
“It’s a great space for people that look like me to come together who have similar goals, who all want to do really well in their business careers, and it just kind of serves as a motivation,” Owens said. For Owens and other members, Black in Business BC provides a space to network and build connections, fostering a sense of unity within the Black community.
“Though the Black community is very small, we’re all very unified and together,” Gabeau said. “Even though we’re small in numbers, we’re still mighty together.” n
EMILY AHERN / HEIGHTS EDITOR
Williams recieved the Celtics Heroes Among Us award on Dec. 7.
A Web of History
Black BC stores a digital archive of the Black community’s history at Boston College and beyond.
B y K ate K issel
Assoc. Magazine Editor
V eronica P ierce Magazine Editor
Students have marched on Corcoran Commons, crowded the lawn of St. Ignatius Church, and occupied Gasson Hall to demand racial equity at Boston College.
Each time, they stood up against University policies and nationwide racial injustices, calling for change and insisting on their right to be heard.
Today many of these calls have been answered—by every student participating in the African and African Diaspora Studies (AADS) program, cheering on BC’s sports teams, and learning in a classroom enriched by a more diverse faculty.
Many of these changemakers were Black students.
Currently, Black students comprise about 4 percent of Boston College’s undergraduate population, a slight increase from around 3 percent in the earliest recorded demographic data from 1977, where they made up about 3 percent.
Despite their relatively small numbers, Black students decided from the start to write their own histories at BC.
But these stories have often gone untold.
The Black BC virtual walking tour and website changes this narrative. Here, Black students’ impact is not only chronicled, but showcased and highlighted, reminding all students and faculty of their influence.
Curated by BC English and AADS
Professor Rhonda Frederick, the tour features 27 locations that played a significant role in shaping the Black experience at BC. Users can walk between the sites and learn about their history through featured archival documents.
From Devlin Hall, the site where Casper Augustus Ferguson became the first Black student to graduate from BC in 1937, to St. Mary’s Hall, the site of protests against police brutality in 2014, the tour takes participants across campus, documenting important stories of “firsts,” activism, and institutional progress.
The Archive’s Origins
The virtual walking tour was created in the 2019–2020 academic year to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the AADS program.
As a former director of the program, Frederick wanted to find a way to honor this milestone. She took inspiration from a binder created during her undergraduate years at the University of Pennsylvania that commemorated Black faculty.
At the same time, The Heights was working on a timeline documenting important moments in BC’s history of Black activism.
The racial climate at the time further fueled her decision to begin
developing Black BC.
The 2010s saw a surge in activism amid the Black Lives Matter movement and protests against police brutality.
In December 2014, BC students responded by staging a “die-in” at St. Mary’s Hall to protest what they viewed as the University’s restrictive free speech policies and inadequate response to police violence.
“After the activist moments to commemorate Black lives, the various moments, particularly the [die-in protest] at St. Mary’s, I wanted us to start thinking about Boston College as a place for Black students,” Frederick said.
Making this happen, Frederick said, would require a mindset shift among many Black students, who felt ostracized as the University looked to punish students who participated in the “die-in.”
“I wanted us to start thinking about Boston College as a
place for Black students.”
“A lot of the students did not feel at home at the University, so I thought what better way to make the point clear that Black students do have a place at BC and are part of the fabric of the University than documenting places, locations where Black students made an impact,” Frederick said.
Digging Into the Past
As Frederick started researching
for the website, Yvonne McBarnett, director of the Thea Bowman AHANA and Intercultural Center (BAIC) and BC ’05, encouraged her to explore the archives at Burns Library. There, Frederick was surprised to find some of the papers of Don Brown, the inaugural BAIC director.
“I was absolutely floored,” Frederick said. “There were photographs of different people who came to campus, notes about events that he planned. I found a photo of Jesse Jackson when he came to BC, and I was like, ‘Jesse Jackson came to BC? Who knew?’”
Documents Frederick found in the AADS office only strengthened her resolve to see the project come to fruition.
“I found boxes of information left by the first director, Amanda V. Houston, and there were boxes of information on the first Blacks in Boston conference,” Frederick said. “And going through this was just so exciting, and I’m like, ‘We need to do something with this information.’”
With her research complete, Frederick took to organizing the events by specific campus locations where they occurred.
Part of this process involved creating summaries of the articles for each location’s page, allowing readers to get a quick snapshot of the story without having to sift through archival texts.
Many of these articles came from The Heights’ archives.
Located at the old BC Football Field, the story “Ahead of their time Black athletes break through at BC,” by Allie Weiskopf documents the monumental impact of the first Black athletes at BC.
The article documents some of BC’s greatest. Football star Lou Montgomery, BC ’41, made history when he became the first Black athlete at BC in 1937 as a running back. Additionally, the article documents Ralph King, BC ’49, who rose to the top of his game when he became the first Black captain of the track and field team in 1948.
Weiskopf wanted to tell these stories not only for BC students, but for the athletes that might not have gotten the recognition they deserved at the time.
“I remember saying, ‘We want to tell your story, and you are somebody to look up to because times have certainly changed,’” Weiskopf said. “‘You were a groundbreaker, and you were a trailblazer. We want to hear that.’”
Not only were the athletes trailblazers in their fields, but BC as an institution was as well.
The University accepted Black athletes 30 years before the ACC and 40 years before many southern colleges, according to the article.
“I think it’s important to look at the past and see, not so long ago, we were a discriminatory environment,” Weiskopf said. “And BC embraced diversity from the beginning.”
To find ways to incorporate Heights articles and archives from the
AADS office and Burns Library into the website, Frederick collaborated with departments across campus. One key partner was the BC Libraries Digital Scholarship group, which helped determine how to digitally organize the information in a way that aligned with Frederick’s vision for the project.
“I remember saying, ‘We want to tell your story, and you are somebody to look up to, because times have certainly changed.’”
Melanie Hubbard, the head of the group, worked closely with Frederick to get the project off the ground.
“Our initial aim was to help Rhonda make her vision happen, and we feel really good about being able to do that,” Hubbard said.
A key part of Frederick’s vision was sharing what she had learned with the community.
“Her genuine interest in representing student and faculty experiences—she has a real passion for this,” Hubbard said. “And she wanted to make sure other people could learn about this history.”
Another important person Frederick turned to throughout the process was Tim Lindgren, assistant director for design innovation at BC’s Center for Digital Innovation in Learning.
Lindgren explained that his role involves helping people around the University create impactful digital learning experiences. Throughout the process, Lindgren served as consulting support for Frederick and Hubbard.
For Lindgren, mapping these locations brought their significance to life in a tangible way.
“We can put things on a map, and we can have it appear, and we can use both text and image, and we can get creative with the ways that we tell the stories about history,” Lindgren said. These pinpoints, along with the opportunity to view the digital map, made the project and its message feel all the more real to Frederick.
“When we were able to have an image to look at, it was a map with pinpoints, the different events on campus, and just to see it, it really sort of brought me back to one of the original intentions of this project—to make BC, make the Black contribution and Black presence of BC more visible,” Frederick said.
Reading about Ferguson, the first Black student to graduate from BC, Frederick couldn’t help but feel moved.
“I felt the pain of it, his experience, but I also had to hold that
feeling in flow with the notion that he was the first,” Frederick said. “It was an important sort of intervention, but also not one that was without some pain.”
Bringing the Vision to Life
Those emotional moments did not come without difficulty.
While the summer provided ample time for Frederick to work on the project, she found herself constrained when classes started again in the fall. For a couple of months, the documents she gathered sat untouched in a file, as she hoped to revisit them later.
“I was just so overwhelmed, I just couldn’t do anything with them, so I just collected them in my folder called ‘AADS at 50’ and just let it all sit,” Frederick said.
Ultimately, Frederick noted that her feelings were due in part to how important she felt the documents within the project were.
“It’s just those moments where something triggers my intellectual self, my emotional self, and just all of myself, right?” Frederick said. “My whole person got involved in this. And sometimes the words, sometimes the images, and sometimes just sort of the collection of events on the timeline just triggered all of those things for me.”
One particular event that came as a shock was the connection between Robert Morris—a civil rights activist and the second Black lawyer in the U.S.—and BC, as his family donated a significant portion of his wealth to help establish BC’s campus in Chestnut Hill.
“My whole person got involved in this. And sometimes the words, sometimes the images, and sometimes just sort of the collection of events on the timeline just triggered all of those things for me.”
“I was floored,” Frederick said. “And if you look on the Robert Morris timeline, it shows that him and his wife were instrumental in starting Boston College. That is the kind of story that we need to know.”
Frederick believes his impact should not be forgotten.
“Robert Morris was a legal advisor for a lot of these Irish and Irish-American working-class white men,” Frederick said. “So we can’t
JASHODHARA JINDAL / HEIGHTS EDITOR
separate. It’s not just Irish, Irish-American.
It’s not just Black. It’s both,” Frederick said. “And they existed together, and it wasn’t a big deal. It’s a fact. There’s an is-ness to it. To leave out that truth I think is a failure for the University.”
Frederick was bent on not leaving out any important truths when compiling the timeline, believing this would be a disservice to those who don’t know about the work of Black students have done to shape the University into what it is today.
“I want this timeline to be one of the things that makes people aware of the program and its contributions to the University,” Frederick said. “It’s past and present and future contributions to the University.”
One major function of this communication is increasing general awareness of Black history on campus, especially for prospective students looking to apply to BC.
“One of the core motivations was to make this other history of Boston College more visible, particularly to incoming students of color,” Lindgren said. “To say there is this whole long history of people at Boston College that often is not as visible as other histories.”
A major part of Lindgren’s involvement with the project came when C. Shawn McGuffey, a sociology professor and former AADS director, wanted to utilize the site in his Introduction to African Diaspora Studies class. McGuffey hoped to not only inform his students of the site’s existence, but have them build upon it through their own research.
“Sean got the idea, really really felt strongly that he wanted to have his students be interviewing former AADS students,” Lindgren said.
In doing so, they would transform the site from a compilation of archives into a dynamic resource that could be continually enhanced.
“It involves both public scholarship— which is what Shawn was really interested in—is having his students think about this research they’re doing, being for a general public,” Lindgren said. “And also this media rich kind of product that they’re producing at the end, rather than a traditional academic essay.”
McGuffey recognized the Black BC website as vital for its role in highlighting the Black experience.
“It’s helpful because we don’t have a lot of public discussions from marginalized students and their experiences at a predominantly white university in general,” McGuffey said.
McGuffey sees a future where other minority groups’ experiences on campus are highlighted. But this work doesn’t all need to be conducted by faculty—instead, McGuffy believes that students themselves can play a direct role.
“I don’t think it’s a mistake that most of the things you see on there are student-focused, or rather, say, faculty-focused or even staff-focused,” McGuffey said. “Which I’m completely fine with, but I think that’s why the focus is mostly on student participation, which I think it should be.”
Since the course was an introduction to AADS, students were new to both the field and to research and website-building.
“It was a really good way to introduce the idea of research methods and public scholarship,” McGuffey said. “Which I think is so vital for African and African
Diaspora Studies and is at the root of African and African Diaspora Studies—that we are supposed to be a public discipline.”
The project had a 14-week timeline and consisted of multiple steps, including shooting and editing video interviews with former AADS students.
At first, McGuffey said his students were intimidated by the project’s scope.
“Some students were nervous,” McGuffey said. “And quite honestly, I was nervous because I’m not that technologically skilled. I was learning along with them.”
Ultimately, the students compiled research spanning from the 1970s to 2021 for the website. In reflecting on Black history at BC, they saw not only the achievements of Black students in building a sense of community, but also the struggles they faced along the way.
“A lot of the programs here that are geared towards making the experience of more marginalized students feel more welcome,” McGuffey said. “Those were hard fought, like people worked really
hard. It’s important that students realize that these were struggles, and those struggles have bore fruit.” Lindgren found the project to be a powerful representation of the real change that students can enact on campus.
“There are ways to be active contributors to BC’s history and the scholarship of scholarship around that,” Lindgren said.
McGuffey agrees.
“The students who took this course— even if they never take another AADS course—they can hopefully 20 years from now go back and say, ‘Oh, that was me. I helped with this story,” McGuffey said.
Even as an instructor, McGuffey felt the real impact of the research within the website.
“There’s so many ways that your research comes to life,” McGuffey said. “Because you can teach about something in class, but then they can go to the archives or go to the timelines or go to Black BC and see how that actually played out at a particular institution that they are almost innately invested in because they are at that institution.”
Frederick saw it exactly the same way.
“It’s one thing to give somebody a book and say ‘If you want to know more about X read this,’” Frederick said. “I think that’s one way to intervene. But the more of yourself you get involved in learning—your physical self, your intellectual self, your emotional self, etc. — the more meaningful what you learn is to you as a human.”
Students who either wrote articles now featured on the site or conducted research that will soon be published saw this impact firsthand, as well as the part in shaping the history of BC.
The students’ impact and the impact of all those that lead the way for race relations and equality at BC cannot be overstated.
“It’s something that isn’t seen as frozen in time,” Lindgren said. “But something that’s going to continue to grow in some way, and that it can be a kind of living repository of BC’s history.” n
Mulligan: Abbott Elementary Carves Space for African American Voices in Comedy
By Maddie Mulligan Arts Editor
In an era of television defined by streaming and binge-watching, one genre often rises above the rest in popularity: the sitcom. With a combination of shorter episodes and longer seasons, sitcoms are every serial-watcher’s dream.
But despite sitcoms’ seeming perfection, one glaring problem emerges.
When considering the modern-day sitcom, big names like The Office, Modern Family, and Arrested Development easily come to mind. While these shows are certainly entertaining and deserve their credit, they ultimately lack a diverse cast.
Heralded as some of the top comedies on television, the faces of sitcoms are restricted mostly to white actors. Parks and Recreation, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and The Big Bang Theory all have predominantly, if not solely, white casts, making current comedic television feel whitewashed.
Barring one exception.
Abbott Elementary began in the mind of executive producer, writer, and actor Quinta Brunson before premiering in 2021 to critical acclaim. A mockumentary-style sitcom, the show has quickly risen to outstanding popularity, boasting a 99 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes.
This popularity does not only come from hilarious recurring bits and looks snuck at the camera, but also from its poignant subject matter. Set in a predominantly Black Philadelphia public school, Abbott Elementary tells the story of teachers using the (very) little they are provided with to try and give kids the best education they can.
As is the case with many inner-city public schools, teachers have to struggle against underfunding and mismanagement throughout their daily lives. These tough conditions mean the kids in attendance are often placed at a comparative disadvantage.
With its premise, Abbott Elementary aims to shed light on the lackluster
circumstances African American youth can face when going to inner-city public schools. Beneath the dialogue and situations that leave the viewer laughing lies the message that the underfunding of education can negatively impact the African American community.
So while other mockumentary-style, workplace comedies would rather focus on the silly happenings of a paper sales office or vampires living on Staten Island, Abbott Elementary notably deviates from the norm by centering around a real, pressing issue.
Just from the initial plot summary, it is clear this show is different by expertly walking the line between comedy and substance. But this difference does not stop only at the premise. Abbott Elementary breaks through the problem of diversity holding many modern sitcoms back by having a predominantly African American cast.
Accurately depicting the real demographic makeup of Philadelphia public schools, the students as well as the teachers are played by African American actors. As is the case with the show’s theme, Abbott Elementary is committed to breaking through the bubble sitcoms often end up trapped in, extending past the situation-based comedy to reflect the real world.
Even more, the characters who are not African American still act as foils to the show’s diversity efforts. Melissa Schemmenti (Lisa Ann Walter) is from South Philadelphia and is deeply entrenched in the area’s historic violence. With unlimited remarks about uncles in jail and how she always “has a guy” who can solve an issue, Schemmenti’s Italian roots are the foundation of her character.
While Schemmenti reflects the Italian roots of Southern Philly, Jacob Hill (Chris Perfetti) instead represents the stereotypical, overly enthusiastic ally toward his coworkers. An outspoken liberal history teacher, Hill will consistently express his seeming understanding of culture to the dismay of his African American colleagues. Often overstepping and being taken
down a peg as a response, running jokes like his rejection from Morehouse Colege—a historically Black institution— make Hill the epitome of cringe-worthy allyship.
At its core, Abbott Elementary is about African American culture. It’s not just groundbreaking in its diverse cast, but it makes a point of having commentary in every episode. From the creation of a school step team to a parent questioning Hill’s ability to teach Black history as a white man, Abbott Elementary challenges racial assumptions to celebrate the African American community.
Abbott Elementary is truly remarkable compared to other modern sitcoms. Looking back at comedy television historically, however, it’s easy to see that Abbott Elementary rides on the backs of other trailblazing, diverse shows.
Similar to Abbott Elementary, previous successful sitcoms with predominantly African American casts were greatly outnumbered by sitcoms with white casts. Take, for one, The Fresh Prince of Bel Air . Airing in the late 1990s, Fresh Prince was hugely popular but competed for popularity against
another megastar—Friends.
And while Fresh Prince certainly got its praise, it is easy to lose it in the overwhelming wave of well-liked, predominantly white sitcoms. From Frasier to Will & Grace, Everybody Loves Raymond to Full House, shows that truly showcase diverse voices end up simply swept in with the mix.
This, unfortunately, is the trend within the world of comedy. Despite The Cosby Show opening the door for modern sitcoms with African American casts, the efforts toward diversity in television comedy can feel minimal in the grand scheme of things.
Still, shows like The Cosby Show, Fresh Prince, and Abbott Elementary bring necessary voices to the screen. Even though they may be outnumbered, each of these series has made significant steps forward for the sake of inclusion and equity.
And what’s better, these steps have certainly not been overlooked. Abbott Elementary has been an Emmy-nominated show since its inception, making history with every award won. Sheryl Lee Ralph is the first Black actress in 35 years to win Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy—only the second
to do so. The show’s creator, Brunson, is the first Black woman to win solo for Outstanding Writing and for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy.
Even more notably, the show has been nominated for awards that highlight not only its greatness in entertainment but also its importance regarding diversity. Whether it be winning nine NAACP Image Awards or a coveted Peabody Award that “honors excellence in storytelling that reflects the social issues and the emerging voices of our day,” Abbott Elementary has proved to be today’s game changer.
Brunson—who has aptly won a Peabody Trailblazing Award herself— has made waves in creating Abbott Elementary
Not only has she aided in reviving the sitcom show style, but her story of an underfunded, non-white school tackles real issues while simultaneously bringing diversity to the forefront of television.
Abbott Elementary is truly exceptional. While there is always work to be done to highlight more diverse voices, Abbott Elementary shows that it is possible to be both entertaining and influential. n
The students compiled research spanning from the 1970s to 2021 to build a digital archive of Black history at BC.
THE BEAT AND THE BROTHERHOOD
The mentorship and fraternity behind Sexual Chocolate
B y M ilo P riddle Asst. Arts Edtior
Boston College doesn’t maintain fraternities in the traditional collegiate sense.
You won’t find a fraternity row, and the majority of conversations on campus that mention “Alpha” or “Delta” regard underwhelming evenings spent experiencing the Greek life of a neighboring school.
But below the surface, within BC’s vibrant dance scene, you can still find fraternity—in every sense of the word.
“I resonated with the mission: being a brotherhood and being a space for people of color, people of marginalized identities, to come together and bond over step,” said Levi Ngabirano, president of Sexual Chocolate (SC) and CSOM ’25.
Navigating a predominantly white institution like BC as a minority can pose difficulties—especially for incoming students. In 1999 a small group of freshmen, Options Through Education (OTE) scholars, founded SC, BC’s only all-male step team, in hopes of instilling a sense of community for students feeling lost in the mix while also giving them the chance to express themselves.
“I think that’s what I was really looking for when I first joined the team … [to] introduce myself to a more diverse community,” said Team Captain Andrew Moynihan, CSOM ’25.
“I resonated with the mission: being a brotherhood and being a space for people of color, people of marginalized identities, to come together and bond over step.”
SC has grown dramatically since its founding—from doing small shows during the Black Student Forum’s Black Family Weekend to hosting and performing their own shows at the Margot Connell Recreation Center and Robsham Theater.
The group even branched out to perform off campus at other East Coast universities before COVID-19 halted their off-campus ambitions.
Despite an expansion of the group’s membership and the growing scale of their shows, SC has managed to maintain its roots in OTE.
Recently renamed the McCrory-Francis Scholars Program, the summer enrichment course is for students who have overcome a socioeconomic disadvantage.
“It’s something that’s really prominent within OTE,” said Dylan Duncan, MCAS ’26 and head of Sexual Chocolate’s Alumni Outreach. “You hear a lot about Sexual Chocolate.”
Along with maintaining its outreach within OTE, community and brotherhood are also still at the forefront of SC’s mission.
While many clubs on campus offer an opportunity to meet new people, SC members emphasized the especially strong bond within their group.
“Outside of practice we’re always getting lunch, or talking to each other, or doing something … it never feels like we’re just part of the same dance team,” said Event Coordinator Jaylen Keller, MCAS ’25.
“It never feels like we’re just part of the same dance team.”
One contributing factor to SC’s close community is mentorship. New members, or rookies, are offered guidance from senior members of the group who—after multiple years on campus—have a better sense of how to get the most out of their BC experience, which is particularly helpful for the group’s students of color who may feel isolated.
“As a freshman, having those seniors that helped me navigate BC as a young, 18-year-old kid, you know, just being there for me … that’s the part [of Sexual Chocolate] I’m gonna remember the most,” said Duncan.
The benefits of the team’s mentorship don’t stop once you transition from mentee to mentor, though. For Ngabirano, mentoring the group’s younger members is an experience he will never forget.
“Being a mentor, after you’ve been able to reap all the benefits of being a mentee, taking [on] that role as a mentor is something I’ll take away with me for the rest of my life,” Ngabirano said. “Seeing people grow as well, into the team, seeing people grow on campus. I mean, it’s something that’s very fulfilling for me.”
SC’s group chemistry is always on display during their performances, whether it be in the form of comedically bro-ey vignettes between dance numbers or total synchrony of steps in performance.
But what the audience doesn’t see is the work that goes on behind the scenes.
“Being a mentor, after you’ve been able to reap all the benefits of being a mentee, taking [on] that role as a mentor is something I’ll take away with me for the rest of my life.”
The team efficiently assembles their shows by dividing the group— this way there are specialized sectors
for each aspect of the performance’s composition.
“There’s a lot of thought behind everything we do on stage,” said Creative Director Philip Mwangi, MCAS ’28.
The creative process begins when the whole group gets together in a circle to spitball ideas for a theme.
After that’s been decided, SC begins to put together the script and dance routine for the show.
Each person works to bring the group’s vision to life—some members focus on designing the choreography, while others work on the costumes and set alongside Robsham staff.
“When we first get to campus in the spring semester we have pretty much nothing made, and then within a month’s time we have a five-act script and six to nine new dances made,” said Moynihan.
As a freshman, Mwangi was pleasantly surprised by the opportunities the team gave to its rookie performers. Most decisions go down to a vote, and SC actively tries to incorporate rookies, who they believe can offer a fresh perspective.
The democratic structure gives each member a chance to make their mark on the group’s work.
“SC is the group that gave me the chance to build my confidence,” Keller said.
The practice schedule can get intense, especially during the final few days leading up to their shows when the group ramps up the frequency and length of their meetings.
The acting component of the performances is always incorporated into the shows just a week prior, giving them a pinched timeframe to mesh all of their script ideas with a semester’s worth of dance.
“SC is the group that gave me the
chance to build my confidence.”
But despite the increased workload, SC members still find these rehearsal times to be a safe haven from responsibility and an escape from the rigors of day-to-day college life.
“It’s an outlet to be creative, an outlet to have fun, an outlet to step away from the stressful, very busy, intense college schedule that we all have,” said Ngabirano.
While members stressed SC’s impact on their college experience, being a member of the group doesn’t end with their time at BC.
The group’s strong and tight-knit alumni network allows members to talk with SC alumni of similar backgrounds, providing invaluable guidance on navigating the professional world after college. For its members, SC is much more than a fun, extracurricular aspect of their time at college—the bonds made in the group are built to last.
“On a deeper level, it’s a brotherhood that extends past just your time on the team, your time at Boston College,” Duncan said. n
COURTESY OF SEXUAL CHOCOLATE
PAUL CRIADO / HEIGHTS ARCHIVES
COURTESY OF SEXUAL CHOCOLATE
Legacies That Last
McCrory-Francis Scholars Program Honors Lives and Legacies of Two Black Alumni.
By ElizaBEth MahEr Asst. Magazine Editor
Floyd McCrory, BC ’77, and Keith Francis, BC ’76, graduated from Boston College almost half a century ago, but their enduring influence on the BC community remains as strong as ever.
In 2024, Boston College renamed the Options Through Education (OTE) program the McCrory-Francis Scholars Program, honoring the lives and legacies of these two prominent alumni. The summer enrichment program supports incoming freshmen who have faced significant economic or educational barriers.
Joy Moore, Vice President and Pine Manor Institute Executive Director, conceived of the name change for the program after researching McCrory’s and Francis’ contributions.
“The McCrory-Francis Scholars Program is named in memory of two prominent alumni of color,” Moore said.
“The program name honors these two alumni and signals the important role they played in advancing the diversity of the student body at Boston College.”
OTE was launched in 1979 by the former Office of AHANA Student Programs and was placed under the umbrella of BC’s Pine Manor Institute for Student Success in 2020.
Under its new name, the program will continue to welcome annual cohorts of 20 to 25 accepted students for a seven-week summer session on campus and offer academic support throughout their four years at BC.
“The McCrory-Francis Scholars Program is an appropriate next step in the long and evolving history of AHANA and first-generation student enrollment at Boston College,” Moore said.
Though now deceased, McCrory and Francis each played significant roles in the program’s long and evolving history, as well as in shaping the lives of those who knew them.
Floyd McCrory
Floyd McCrory bled maroon and gold, according to his daughter, Katina McCrory Hunter, BC ’04.
“BC meant the world to him,” McCrory Hunter said. “If anybody knew him, you knew about Boston College.”
Before he became an Eagle, McCrory was born and raised in the Washington, D.C. area, where he attended St. John’s College High School.
As a standout local track and field athlete, his talent paved the way for him to attend BC. He also had a strong aptitude for math, leading to a long career as an accountant. As one of the area’s first Black Eagle Scouts, he acquired leadership skills that prepared him to serve those around him.
After graduating from St. John’s in 1973, McCrry chose to attend BC with a track and field scholarship. According to his sister, Alice McCrory-Miller, his faith was another impact factor in his decision.
“We were both Catholic, raised Catholic, and devout Catholic,” McCrory-Miller said.
McCrory’s athletic career at BC was cut short by an injury during his sophomore year. He quickly found new ways to engage with the University community, joining a fraternity and even becoming a cheerleader, according to McCrory-Miller.
In particular, he dedicated his time and efforts to helping other students in their search for career opportunities.
“He was very, very interested in career placement for students,” McCrory-Miller said. “He worked very closely with the Alumni Association and developed a career placement program at BC to reach out to the undergraduate students and try to get them placed in jobs through college so that they would have a networking kind of atmosphere and environment as they matriculated.”
McCrory also dedicated himself to the Black Talent program, which existed from 1968 to 1975. The program aimed to diversify the University by recruiting qualified Black students.
McCrory-Miller recalled a specific childhood memory that she felt encapsulated her brother’s caring and protective nature: It was soon after Martin Luther King’s assassination in April 1968. Civil disturbances were taking place in cities across the United States.
“It was a lot of violence around that time,” McCrory-Miller said. “I specifically remember that he would not leave to walk home because we walked home from school. And I can still see that, because he waited for me, and it was like, I’m not going anywhere, talking about my sister, you know, and then we walked home together.”
McCrory graduated from BC in 1977 and began working as an accountant in Washington, D.C. before later taking a position in the D.C. Government Office of the Comptroller. He welcomed two children, McCrory Hunter and Jonathan McCrory. During each chapter of his life, his commitment to supporting others and building community only grew stronger.
“I think the biggest memory I have of him is just how he was like with other people, and how he was always so kind and friendly and trying to make people laugh,” McCrory Hunter said.
No matter how many years passed since McCrory’s time on the Heights, his love for the University remained strong. He was a proud alum and a member of the Office of University Advancement and Alumni Association’s Board of Directors, according to Joy Moore. The feelings were reciprocated, too.
“The BC community was just amazing when he got sick,” said McCrory Hunter. “They all just came. And when he passed away, people came in from Boston. They all just came from so far to show support and love, so the BC community is just like no other in that aspect.”
Keith Francis
Keith Francis’ accomplishments on the track speak for themselves.
A seven-time All-American during his time at BC. A participant in international track and field meets against the Soviet Union and China. A competitor in the 1976 Olympic Trials.
For Francis, however, these accomplishments paled in comparison to what mattered most: supporting others.
“Students, kids, were far more important to him than running,” said Janet Costa Bates, a former BC Career Center associate director and longtime friend of Francis.
Francis grew up in New Bedford, Mass., where he attended New Bedford High School and excelled as a track athlete and basketball player. His daughter, Karly Francis-Forrester, BC ’10, said his athletic talent landed him an offer at BC.
“I know he wanted to stay local for school, and he was really good at basketball and track, but he actually got recruited for BC for track,” Francis-Forrester said.
Francis majored in education at BC before obtaining a master’s degree from Boston University.
He then moved to Washington, D.C., where he worked for about 30 years in government services.
Similar to McCrory, Francis was a community-builder focused on supporting the needs of others.
“He had a way of bringing people together to work together,” Costa Bates said. “And he saw the strength of that. He was very confident, but he was smart enough to know that he, by himself, could not accomplish everything, and he needed a team of people to accomplish things.”
Francis utilized this confidence and compassion to create Reconnect III, the first-ever AHANA BC reunion, with Kevin Malone.
The first Reconnect reunion took place in July 2009 and has d rawn hundreds of attendees each year.
“Keith, again, believed in bringing people together,” Costa Bates said. “And I think Reconnect was a way of that happening—bringing students of color, alumni of color, together to realize the strength that they all had together.”
Francis continued to enhance the college experience of AHANA students and support the BC community as a BC Trustee member for the 2010-11 term, according to Moore.
He remained dedicated to his goal of making BC a more supportive environment until his death in 2011.
Francis-Forrester remembered her father as stern yet compassionate, with a deeply impactful care for others.
“He was always like, ‘If I’m remembered for anything, it was that I made a difference,’ and he truly did,” Francis-Forrester said.
Impact and Legacy
McCrory and Francis met while both were members of the track team and later reconnected in Washington, D.C., where they were both working after graduation. While in Washington, the two started the D.C. Bus Rides program, which identified Black high school students in the D.C. area who were interested in attending a highly selective university. They then organized an annual bus trip where students had the opportunity to visit BC for themselves. The program ran for 20 years. Every October, McCrory and Francis would take 40 high school students on a trip to BC, where the students stayed on campus with student hosts and even attended a football game
Francis-Forrester expressed her excitement about the renaming of the OTE program to honor her father.
“Them renaming it in honor of him and Mr. Floyd is just unbelievable, and I’m glad that he was able to really allow students to experience it, and students are still able to experience it,” Francis-Forrester said.
McCrory-Miller also expressed how the renaming of the OTE program is an appropriate honor for her brother and the efforts he made to support BC and its AHANA community.
“I think right now he is probably happier than ever,” McCrory-Miller said. “And I mean he absolutely lived for that, and it was what he did.” n
The McCrory-Francis Scholars Program honors the legacy of two BC alumni.
COURTESY OF KARLY FRANCIS-FORRESTER AND ALICE MCCRORY MILLER
Magis Means More
Jamaica Magis Highlights Love and Presence Through Service
By Lucy Freeman Projects Editor
By mei Dasgupta Editorial Assistant
When Rev. Michael Davidson, S.J., was growing up in Kingston, Jamaica, a group of Boston College students visited his school for several weeks.
Davidson remembered these students for their kindness and encouragement.
When he took a position at BC 25 years later, he ran into one of the students who had visited him years before, and the two remembered each other.
“She saw me, she said, ‘Mikey!’ and I said, ‘Christine!’’’ Davidson said. “And I said, ‘No, I have to do that—replicate that for the kids there who, some don’t have a father, some don’t have a mother.’ And it worked.”
Davidson, director of the Montserrat Coalition, founded the Jamaica Magis service immersion trip in 2012 after he participated in the Arrupe International Encounters program.
Davidson said he wanted students of color to be able to experience an immersion trip and serve others.
“A lot of Black and brown students at that time were worrying about, ‘Boy, I don’t fit in here,’ but when they go down to Jamaica—and we work in a school— they are with students who will do anything to be in their shoes,” Davidson said.
“They realize that there’s a privilege that they have and an opportunity for them to do good for the world.”
Despite this, Davidson emphasized that the trip is more about service and community than race.
“It is very clear that Magis is not a Black trip or a white trip,” Davidson said. “It’s a place [for] people who want to experience the ‘more’ in their life, who want to give selfless service, who want to build a community.”
Jamaica Magis organizes two trips each year, one in the winter and another in the summer.
“They realize that there’s a privilege that they have and an opportunity for them to do good for the world.”
Students spend several months preparing for each trip by learning about Jamaican history and culture. The first trip to Jamaica hosted 15 students, but
Davidson, “magis” comes from the Latin word meaning more.
On the trip, students serve the local Kingston community and work as teacher’s aides at the Holy Family Primary School and Holy Trinity High School.
“Our primary mission there is to be the ministry of presence in the classroom,” Davidson said. “We work with the teachers in the class, but we also go to orphanages, to feed children, to bathe them. We feed the people that are poor on the streets.”
The Power of the Present Moment
Before the trip begins, students are given very little information about what they will be doing in Jamaica.
To help participants stay fully present and focused on serving the community, the trip leaders collected everyone’s watches and phones, according to Lana Mburu, MCAS ’28.
“None of the clocks worked accurately,” Mburu said. “We couldn’t know what time it was—they took our watches. If we asked them what time it was, they’d say, ‘Be present.’”
Sevine Klitz, MCAS ’26, participated in Magis during her freshman year and led the most recent trip in January.
As a first-time participant, she was eager to know what was coming next, but as a leader, she encouraged her group to stay focused on the present moment.
“I remember my first time doing it, begging our student leaders, like, ‘What are we doing next? What are we doing next?’” Klitz said. “But just coming back as a student leader and being able to be the one, like, ‘Guys, just stay present,’ it was really fun. And seeing their excitement when we’d announce different parts of the trip was really cool.”
Skyla DeSimone, MCAS ’26, returned to the Jamaica Magis service trip this year as a leader after taking the trip during her sophomore year.
In her leadership role, DeSimone emphasized the importance of ensuring participants felt physically and emotionally safe, given that the trip’s activities were not disclosed to the students in advance.
“As a student leader, I had to keep reiterating to people, ‘We have you, we got you, we are here for you,’ DeSimone said. “‘There are questions we’re not going to answer, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t care about you.’”
DeSimone explained that maintaining an element of mystery about certain aspects of the trip was intentional, as it encouraged students to focus on their service work without distractions.
“The Ministry of Presence”
Unlike other BC-sponsored programs, Magis participants don’t engage in physical acts of service or raise money for the people they meet. Their service is distinct—it’s about being present and fully attentive to the people around them.
For Klitz, this approach was equally meaningful and broadened her understanding of service.
“I think I learned a lot about what service is to me because of Magis,” Klitz said. “We always talk about the ministry of presence, because we’re not really like building a house or giving people donations directly—it’s more just being with people and chatting with people.”
In the 13 years since the Jamaica Magis program began, Davidson’s students have made a lasting, positive impact on the students they visit in Kingston, he said.
“The school had boys who were being killed at 14, 15, girls getting pregnant at 11.” Davidson said. “That has changed. They see themselves in the Boston College students.”
For many participants, however, the impact was mutual.
“We always talk about the ministry of presence, because we’re not really like building a house or giving
the summer of 2023, after her freshman year at BC. She worked primarily with kindergarteners and said they immediately embraced her.
“Even as someone who didn’t share a similar background to them, they were just so welcoming,” Okorie said. They were always giving me hugs and offering me slime during play times and to play with them.”
Klitz recalled an interaction with a young student at the primary school in Jamaica, who remembered her for her kindness from her first trip more than a year earlier.
“I remember one of the coolest parts of the trip this time was I ran into one of the girls that I had played with her at recess, I think,” Klitz said. “She stopped me and was like, ‘You’re the one who told me that my eyelashes were beautiful.’ It’s those little interactions that they remember so much that I was able to see that second time around.”
While a significant component of Jamaica Magis includes serving at the school and building relationships with the children, students also devote time to working with multiple Mustard Seed Communities.
Founded by Monsignor Gregory Ramkissoon in 1978, Mustard Seed Communities are residential facilities that aim to care for vulnerable individuals, including children and adults with disabilities such as schizophrenia, autism, hydrocephalus, and cerebral palsy.
In her first few days in Jamaica, the students served at a Mustard Seed Community dedicated to caring for elderly men and women abandoned by
Mburu said the trip encouraged participants to step outside their comfort zones and foster empathy as they engaged with individuals in vulnerable situations. This experience, she said, helped her grow spiritually and revealed the greater meaning of service.
“I feel like a big part of that, the mission of that trip was to just see God’s love and see God in others,” Mburu said. “I feel like doing that type of service was impactful in the way that we could connect with people, no matter their circumstances.”
DeSimone said the importance of affection in Jamaican culture and the eagerness to show love had a lasting impact on her.
“It’s common in our culture and in a space like Boston College to not fully appreciate that and to not express love,” she said. “In Jamaican culture, you call everybody ‘auntie’ or ‘uncle,’ and it’s like you’re all family. It’s like you are all one because we are all human. I want to bring that back here.”
Esosa Owens, CSOM ’26, expressed a similar sentiment and said the Jamaica Magis trips helped her learn how to show love to others.
“Jamaica, people know it as ‘one love, Jamaican love,’ and I would say going on this trip twice has allowed me to really see that and how the people of Jamaica embody it,” Owens said. “I feel like the biggest takeaway that this Magis experience gave me was how you just should be able to love everyone.”
Delight Kolade, another January Magis trip leader and MCAS ’26, said he learned the importance of presence and valuing life and those around you. “In Jamaican culture, you call everybody ‘auntie’ or ‘uncle,’ and it’s like you’re all family. It’s like you are all one because we are all human. I want to bring that back here.”
“I’ve gotten to see so many outcast communities that we don’t necessarily not just see, but pay attention not just see, but pay attention to at BC, or even America in general,” Kolade said. “So being grateful that you’re born with this opportunity and to get to live the life that you live, and not necessarily taking it for granted once you come back.”
Love can take many forms, but for Owens, the Magis trip revealed that everyone deserves to experience love, no matter their circumstances.
“A lot of the people that we interacted with did not come from very privileged backgrounds and had many hardships, but one thing that they were able to do and show to the BC students is how much they love and care about us, even though they don’t even know much about who we are,” Owens said.
Owens said she hopes to continue showing love in her everyday life using her experiences from Jamaica Magis.
“Being able to showcase an ounce of love to everyone you interact with is something this trip definitely has helped me see in my life and has allowed me to try to implement that at BC and even beyond,” Owens said. n
Before the trip begins, participants are given very little information about what they will be doing in Jamaica.
COURTESY OF MICHAEL DAVIDSON
Back With the Team
Danya Abrams is Back with BC Basketball, This Time with a Lifetime of Experience
B y M aria
S tefanoudaki S Sports Editor
Danya Abrams was a projected first-round pick in the 1996 NBA Draft following his junior season at Boston College. With that in mind, many players would have ended their college careers early and declared for the draft.
But there were things keeping Abrams at BC—more for him to do, both on and off the court.
“I had promised my family I would get my degree,” Abrams said.
Not to mention the fact that he loved BC.
“He just didn’t want to leave,”
Tom Devitt, a graduate assistant at BC during Abrams’ career, said. “He loved Boston College, and he loved being a college kid. He loved being a BC Eagle.”
Abrams ended his BC career as one of only two players in the program’s history with 2,000 career points and 1,000 career rebounds, but he ultimately didn’t end up in the NBA.
He ended up traveling the world for free, though.
Then he launched his own company and co-started another.
And now, Abrams is back where it all started: on the court with BC men’s basketball.
“For it to come full circle, for me to come back and to be a coach at my alma mater,” Abrams said. “It’s a dream come true.”
From the Field to the Forum
It’s not every day that college basketball coaches stand on the sidelines of a high school football game in hopes of converting a football player to a basketball commit.
But there BC men’s basketball coaches Jim O’Brien, Paul Biancardi, Dave Spiller, and Rick Boyages were, standing on the sidelines to watch Abrams play football.
“They were the only basketball coaches to come to my football games to recruit me, and that’s how they won me over,” Abrams said. “There’s, you know, all these DI football programs, and you see on the side these basketball coaches … I was like, ‘Yeah, they’re committed.’”
BC beat out John Calipari at UMass Amherst to secure Abrams’ commitment in the fall of 1993. The choice wasn’t entirely about basketball, though.
“They were the only basketball coaches to come to my football games to recruit me, and that’s how they won me over,”
“I am not minimizing UMass, but I valued education and I had a lot of people that I knew that went here, and older people that went here, and they were successful in life,” Abrams said.
Abrams made the move from New York to Boston, where he’s been ever since.
Initially, he thought he would go back to New York one day. But after meeting his wife at BC, that plan changed.
“She had other plans, so I lost that fight,” Abrams said with a chuckle.
“It’s not a bad one to lose.”
Before Boston became home, Abrams grew up in New York City, playing basketball for fun at the YMCA and in community centers. He says he loved his childhood and that it made him into the person and player he eventually became.
It also influenced a lot of the decisions he made.
“We lived in the housing projects, so for me it was normal,” Abrams said. “You know, you don’t know what’s normal as a kid. But once I went to preparatory school, and I saw how a lot of people were living, it made me want to do more and be better, get a great education, and build the life that I have now.”
When Abrams realized he could
use basketball as a means to an end, he began to take it more seriously.
Even so, he wasn’t attending fivestar basketball camps during the summers or playing in front of many recruiters.
“The reason why, I guess, I went underrated, was because during the summer, I always went to football camps and just stayed home,” Abrams said. “So when I was invited to fivestars back then, and all these other national camps, I didn’t go because I was doing football and having fun with it.”
When reflecting on his basketball career, Abrams immediately acknowledged the help he got along the way, especially in his young years.
“Both my uncles were very instrumental in the basketball field for me,” Abrams said. “I lost my father at an
double-digit losses, their chances at a deep run didn’t look too good.
But miracles do happen. That season, the Eagles pulled off what went down as the most incredible run in program history.
They started with a three-point win over Washington State in the opening round of the NCAA Tournament.
Waiting next for BC was firstranked North Carolina, arguably the best team in the nation.
“The year before, I was sitting home in my living room watching North Carolina win the national championship, you know, not ever thinking that we’d get to play against them,” Abrams said.
Somehow, the Eagles found a way to knock off UNC—home to big names such as Jerry Stackhouse, Rasheed
“The four seniors graduated,” Abrams said. “And our sophomore year, we got our butts kicked.”
Taking Flight
BC went 9–19 Abrams’ sophomore year and missed the NCAA tournament less than a year after coming within striking distance of the Final Four.
“We were two minutes away from the Final Four against Florida the year before,” Devitt said. “And then, you know, six months later, we’re trying to figure out who our starting point guard is going to be.”
Nonetheless, Abrams continued to shine.
“Those two concurrent years, he treated each scenario the same—and that’s a really, really incredible skill,”
Abrams finished his BC career as one of only two players with 2,000 career points and 1,000 rebounds.
early age, so my mother’s brothers basically raised me and helped me out.”
Abrams’ mother’s brother, his “Uncle Rodney,” played basketball at UNC Charlotte.
As Abrams grew into his basketball career, Abrams says it was his uncle who pushed him to achieve greatness.
“He’s the one that inspired me to say that I could do it,” Abrams said. “If he could do it, I could do it.”
That guidance paid off. Abrams went on to become a BC legend.
“He Fit in on Day One”
Madison Square Garden is hardly the place you want to lose as a basketball player. Especially not in a blowout. Especially not in the Big East Tournament.
During Abrams’ freshman season at BC, that’s exactly what happened in the Eagles’ first postseason game of the 1993–94 season, as the No. 3-seed Eagles were blown out by 23 points by No. 6-seed Georgetown.
A week later, the Eagles were set to face No. 8 Washington State in the first round of the NCAA Tournament. Coming off consecutive
Wallace, and Eric Montross at the time—and BC fans watched in delirium as their team defeated the defending champs and advanced to the Sweet Sixteen.
The Eagles were eventually bounced from the tournament by No. 14 Florida in the Elite Eight. Regardless, their deep playoff run proved just how far a smallish Catholic school in Chestnut Hill could go.
That year, Abrams joined a BC starting lineup composed of Bill Curley, Howard Eisley, Malcolm Huckaby, and Gerrod Abram—all seniors. But that age gap didn’t matter.
“He fit in on day one,” Abrams’ BC teammate Marc Molinsky said. “That is very unusual for a freshman to do in any program, much less a Big East program, and a program that … had a solid team in place already.”
Abrams averaged 10 points and seven rebounds in his freshman year. He scored 14 points in the Eagles’ second-round win over UNC.
“[The Tar Heels] were stacked with All-Americans,” Abrams said. “For us to play against them and beat them, and then get to the Elite Eight—I thought every year was going to be like that.”
Every year did not go like that, though.
or the folks in facilities,” Devitt said. “Whether we won 25 games or lost in a season, none of that changed him at his core, and that’s something that is really important when you’re teaching and coaching.”
It wasn’t size or an extremely complex skill set that placed Abrams in the first tier of talent in the Big East. It was his toughness.
“You can imagine the toughness that would be required for him to compete at such a disadvantage and still be the best,” Molinsky said. “You can imagine what type of character, what type of work ethic, what type of toughness would be required for him to be arguably, you know, the best, or one of the best big men in the Big East when he was possibly the shortest.”
Devitt recalled a scramble for a loose ball in a game against Syracuse. Abrams jumped into the pile on the floor to grab the ball, with three orange jerseys surrounding him.
“I vowed that the next two years, we were going to be in the NCAA Tournament, if not try to win the national championship.”
“Danya would pop up to his feet with the ball under his arm, and the other three Syracuse guys would be slowly getting up, like holding body parts in pain, you know?” Devitt said. “And that was him.”
BC didn’t come close to a national championship win during Abrams’ tenure.
But the Eagles were perennial tournament contenders as Abrams helped a winning culture ripple through the program.The crowd in Conte Forum was routinely like the crowd at BC’s recent Duke game— loud and energetic—a big contrast from the crowds the current program regularly draws.
“My nickname for him is 20 and 10, because it was pretty much a guarantee that he was going to get 20 points and 10 rebounds every single night,” Molinsky said.
Abrams averaged 17 points per game over the course of his career and graduated as a three-time First-Team All-Big East player and two-time All-Big East Tournament player.
The Eagles beat Villanova in the Big East Championship at Madison Square Garden as Abrams neared the end of his career. He says that senior-year win was the pinnacle of his BC career.
But just as important for Abrams was that his time at BC culminated in something unrelated to basketball: his degree.
Devitt said. “He didn’t like to lose at all, but the way he responded to losses, and the way he responded to victories, he was still the same person.”
Abrams scored 68 points in a 24-hour span in the Big East Tournament, becoming the first player in tournament history to have back-toback 30-point games.
“He went from being a second or third option to being the only option,” Devitt said. “And he did it seamlessly. He really did.”
Abrams’ sophomore year was the best year of his college career scoring-wise. He averaged 22 points per game, but individual success wasn’t enough for Abrams.
“I just didn’t like that feeling of not making the NCAA Tournament,” Abrams said. “I vowed that the next two years, we were going to be in the NCAA Tournament, if not try to win the national championship.”
Abrams said that summer was the hardest he ever worked. And after that summer, he never missed the NCAA Tournament again.
“He was still the same person who really liked laughing it up with the employees at the dining services
“You could never take away my degree that I got from BC,” Abrams said. “That set me up for life after basketball.”
Spreading His Wings
After graduating from BC, Abrams had the chance to work out with the San Antonio Spurs organization.
But then an offer came from a European team promising a bigger starting salary and, importantly for Abrams, lots of playing time.
“He’s just very unique, because he could have been on a number of NBA rosters,” Devitt said. “I remember him saying to me, ‘Why would I want to be 9, 10, or 11 on an NBA roster when I’m the focal point in Spain?’”
So Abrams went to Europe and ended up staying there for 12 years, playing eight years in Spain and four in Greece. During that time, basketball was Abrams’ first priority.
After all, that’s what he was getting paid to do.
But while putting on big scoring performances, competing in the EuroLeague, and playing in FIBA cups, Abrams also got the
chance to see the world.
“I’ve been to Moscow, Ukraine, Czech Republic, Poland, France, Greece, Germany, up and down the European sea, where I’ve been to Israel, Tel Aviv,”
Abrams said. “All these places that you look at, you may not be able to get to—I get to go there for free and play a game that I love and get paid for it.”
Eventually, Abrams’ career ended and he moved back to Boston, where he lives with his wife and three children.
Just like he seamlessly fit into a lineup of seniors and helped his team to the Elite Eight as a freshman, Abrams seamlessly transitioned into the business world after retiring from professional basketball.
“Starting your own business is one of the toughest things that anyone can do in their lifetime,” Molinsky said. “Almost similar to the way he came into our team as a freshman, he made the transition to being a successful business person seamlessly, because he’s just a really smart and savvy guy.”
Abrams worked at MassMutual before deciding he was ready to branch off and start his own company.
The result was Abrams Insurance and Financial Services, the first of his two companies.
“I had that entrepreneurship spirit, and I went out and started it,” Abrams said. “That was about 12 years ago, and the rest is history.”
Abrams credits his success in part to the help from people he met at BC.
It was no coincidence that the job that got Abrams back on the court—this time, as a coach—came about due to another BC connection.
Back to Basketball
Devitt, the head coach at Wentworth at the time, asked Abrams to join his staff several times before
Abrams agreed. “Our guys would be mesmerized by him,” Devitt said. “He just, he could capture a room—he still can. But his overwhelming positivity for life and for basketball is something that just strikes me daily, still, about him.”
Abrams decided to give coaching a try and ended up falling in love with it. His passion for working with student-athletes doesn’t end on the court, though.
Abrams is responsible for co-starting Diverse Athlete Placement, a program that helps former athletes complete the necessary steps to get into the workforce after retiring from their sports. That includes skills like writing, dressing professionally, and crafting resumes.
“When I finished playing basketball in Europe and I came home, I just wanted to be able to help student-athletes be able to get into the workforce and understand that it’s okay to ask for help,”
Abrams said.
Abrams has a diverse set of passions—he wouldn’t have started two companies if he didn’t. But right now, his focus is back where it was in the 1990s, just in a different form.
While Abrams builds his career as the director of roster management for BC men’s basketball, he’s putting the values of teamwork he learned on the court to use.
“My main function is here at BC, but those two companies are my pride and joy—I still love it,” Abrams said. “But the good thing about being a team player and understanding sports is that you have to have a team to win. And if it was just me about Abrams’ Insurance, if it was just me about Diverse Athlete Placement, it wouldn’t succeed. So I’m happy to delegate and empower other people to perform and run the company, where I can now do my love and lifelong dream job here at Boston College.”
Homecoming
Abrams’ return to BC comes at an interesting time. He has to adapt to the ever-changing landscape of college sports—which includes handling name, image, and likeness deals, as well as managing recruitment and player retention.
Abrams isn’t complaining, though.
“Boston College is home, and it’s the place where we all experienced arguably the best times of our lives,” Devitt said. “So why wouldn’t we want to return? Why wouldn’t we want to convey our happy times to a new group of athletes and a new group of students? It just seems so natural to want to convey the place that made us feel happy and the place that made us feel at home.”
Abrams can’t help the Eagles by scoring 2,000 points or scrambling for loose balls, but he’s found a new way to uplift the program.
“The first thing that he does—and even now at BC I see it all the time—is he puts his arm around a player, and he ultimately just gets to that player’s level and mindset, wherever that may be,” Devitt said. “He never speaks down to anybody. He’s always uplifting folks.”
Abrams has a wife and three kids now. He’s traveled the world. He’s started two companies. But his current goal for BC is the same goal he had back in 1994 when he stepped on the court to face No. 1 UNC: win.
“I plan on being here for years to come with Coach Grant and staff,” Abrams said. “Using my expertise and his expertise to build this program into a powerhouse.”
“This was someone’s big idea … and now it’s become something that’s tangible and possible,” Louis said. “BC has incredible resources—use those resources. Come up with the idea and make the plan.” n
Op-Ed:Advocacy Paves the Way for Legacy
Colleen BlasCik
When I was admitted to Boston College, I had never set foot on campus. Everything I knew about BC came from virtual sessions with student admissions volunteers and videos I watched on social media.
Desperate for more insight, I searched YouTube with phrases like “Black Women Boston College,” hoping to catch a glimpse of what life might be like for someone like me. But it was fruitless.
No one I saw or spoke to looked like me or could direct me toward resources for students of color on campus. Navigating the steps to a successful freshman year felt elusive.
However hopeless I felt, I was overcome by the belief in myself to thrive in spaces that I had never been in before.
I mean, how could I not when I stared at “thriving in Boston” on my vision board every day of senior year? And when I had a community that supported this little girl being the first in her lineage to ever go to college?
I was determined not to let the induced mindset of imposter syndrome guide my future.
Instead, I would adopt one that allowed me to live out my ancestors’ dreams.
Just two weeks before the start of my freshman year, I was welcomed into a community that completely shifted the trajectory of both my life and experience here at BC.
The BC F1RST College Transition Program (CTP) provides support and guidance to help students succeed. They offer programs that foster relationships with faculty, encourage the use of University resources, and cultivate intentional connections that will benefit students
throughout their college careers.
It was truly heaven-sent for a student like me, who grew up in Georgia and was moving across the country for the first time in my life.
It was through this program that my advocacy for resources on campus began.
I had my feet on the ground, and I was determined to help guide those around me toward the resources that could alleviate the challenges they were facing.
In search of a safe haven for women on campus? The Women’s Center is on the 4th Floor of Maloney.
Looking for the First-Gen office? Oh, my favorite advisors are located on Coro.
Need to see a counselor? First floor of Gasson, my love.
I had found silos of support on campus and was eager to help assist students who might have felt as lost and voiceless as I did.
I knew their experience wasn’t uncommon because I, too, was the girl scouring the internet for resources and community. That is why I understood, and felt deeply, the responsibility of building up as I climbed.
In my first semester of college, I applied to be the UGBC first-generation special interest student representative.
I heard back within a week, and I knew my work wasn’t just beginning—it was about to continue on a larger scale.
As the first-generation representative, I’ve been able to advocate for my community and uplift student voices on campus in places where they are often overlooked.
Through meetings with the Office of Undergraduate Admission, academic administrators, and the Pine Manor Institute for Student Success, we’ve successfully hosted events like “Meet Messina” to
bridge the gap between Messina College and the main campus.
We also curated an incredible FirstGen Week, featuring guest speakers and campuswide events to bring the community together and celebrate our trailblazing students.
Through fruitful conversations with students and attending meetings with faculty, I’ve had the privilege of serving as an advocate who can implement change with the undergraduate government.
I’m eager to push for progress and take action because I’ve never felt more empowered, hopeful, and supported by both faculty and students.
Seeing first-gen students’ faces light up when they spot us tabling on the Quad or noticing how they sigh with relief once they learn about various resources on campus is what fills my heart.
It’s these small but powerful moments that inspire me to continue the advocacy work I do on campus. My relationships with students have deepened, but even more importantly, the relationship I have with myself—the girl once searching for a place to belong—has grown immensely.
I could not imagine myself anywhere else other than BC, a place that has supported and cultivated my growth both as a
student and in my role as a senator. Today, I find myself frequently stopping by the First-Gen office, engaging in long conversations with students between classes, and scheduling meetings with faculty to bring future initiatives to life.
Without realizing it, I have become the Black woman on campus I once searched for on YouTube as a senior. I will not stop until every student like me feels seen and encouraged to thrive in spaces that were not always designed with them in mind. n Colleen Blascik is a sophomore at Boston College. She can be reached at colleen. blasckik@bc.edu
He Felt God Call Him to Come Out
Now, He Helps Black Churches Become Safe Spaces for Others To Do the Same
By Laney Mcaden
Assoc. Newton Editor
By RiLey deL SeSto Asst. Newton Editor
It’s a Friday night in Miami. Music is blasting, drinks are pouring, and lights are flashing.
It’s Black Pride, 2009, and Rev. Brandon Thomas Crowley waits at the bar.
Tasked with getting drinks for friends, he’s startled when a man, drunk and high, looks at him and speaks.
“Sir, I don’t know you, but you’re not supposed to be here,” Crowley recalls the man saying. “You’re supposed to be somewhere else. I think you’re supposed to be preaching somewhere.”
Crowley left the bar for the airport and caught a flight back to Boston. That night—without a sermon prepared— he went before the Myrtle Baptist Church’s committee and preached.
A month later, Crowley was elected Senior Pastor of the historic West Newton church, one of America’s oldest Black congregations.
“You’re supposed to be somewhere else. I think you’re supposed to be preaching somewhere.”
It was six years later, in 2015, that Crowley felt God urge him to tell his congregation that he was gay.
Founded by formerly enslaved people at the end of Reconstruction, the Myrtle Baptist Church is one of the nation’s few historically Black churches that is “Open and Affirming,” meaning it welcomes LGBTQ+ members and ministry.
Its Open and Affirming status, however, was not always the case. It became so under Crowley.
Despite the church’s liberal search committee and membership, Crowley initially felt as though he could not share his sexuality with his congregation, he said.
“They were not looking for a pastor who was gay, and they were not looking for a pastor who was going to push them out of the closet, so to speak,” Crowley said. “They were looking for somebody who just wasn’t going to rattle the feathers to be politically correct.”
Crowley explained that the former senior pastor, who’d served in his position for 24 years, told him not to come out.
“I was harassed,” Crowley said. “I was laughed at. We lost members of the church because they thought that I was gay, and they said I was preaching too much about gay rights issues.”
The church then went through the two-year process to become Open and Affirming, which entails a covenant drafted by the church that must record the church as a welcoming environment to gay and transgender members and ministry.
Once approved through a vote, the church may be certified as an Open and Affirming congregation.
“So I came out, and we lost a lot of
Celebrating Black Voices
February 18, 2025
members because I came out,” Crowley said. “Then, we started attracting a lot of members because I came out.”
Crowley’s first book, Queering the Black Church: Dismantling Heteronormativity in the African American Church , was published in 2024 by Oxford University Press.
“They were not looking for a pastor who was gay, and they were not looking for a pastor who was going to push them out of the closet, so to speak.”
In the book, he seeks to aid other Black churches across the country through the process of becoming welcoming to the LGBTQ+ community.
“I wrote the book because there are Black churches out there who want to figure out how to affirm gay people,” Crowley said. “They just don’t know how to do it.”
In his book, Crowley addresses the history of Black, Christian methodology in regard to homosexuality.
He writes, in part, with the goal of “queering” these beliefs in Black churches across the country, just as the Civil Rights Movement dismantled the flaws of American equality.
“And so queering, for me, is about subversion,” Crowley said. “It is about
This special edition of The Heights celebrates the Black individuals and groups shaping the Boston College community and beyond. All stories featured in this edition are available at bcheights.com.
making the least, the most important. It is about turning the center on its head where there is no center and all are equitably treated.”
Crowley, 38, was raised in Rome, Ga. He graduated with a bachelor’s degree in religion with a Moral Cosmopolitan Pastoral Leadership Certificate from Morehouse College in Atlanta. He also earned a Master of Divinity from Harvard Divinity School.
Crowley later earned his Ph.D. in Church and Society and a Master of Sacred Theology with a certificate in social justice from the Boston University School of Theology.
Minister of Administration Rev. Elijah Gipson-Davis said he looks to Crowley as a mentor.
“He’s an inspiration to look up to—one as a minister and then two as an openly queer minister, and then also as an academic,” Gipson-Davis said.
Myrtle Baptist Church, founded in 1874, was created to be a community within Newton, one separate from the city itself, Crowley said.
“I don’t have an overwhelming story of negativity, but I also am not drunk on any wine of this politically correct New England, Newton, sort of my mindset in which we like to act like a colorblind society where race really doesn’t matter,” Crowley said.
While most of Myrtle Baptist’s members do not live in Newton anymore due to the construction of the Massachusetts Turnpike in the 1960s, Gipson-Davis believes the church to be one of the only remaining parts of Newton’s Black population.
“This church to this day is probably
the strongest contingency of African Americans in the city of Newton,” Gipson-Davis said. “Myrtle has been a safe haven for what Newton has become today.”
In addition to his work at Myrtle Baptist, Crowley is a Lecturer in Ministry Studies at Harvard University’s Divinity School in Cambridge, Mass., the Crump Visiting Professor of Theology at the Episcopal Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas, and the 2021–2022 American Academy of Religion’s Black Religious Scholars Group’s Scholar-in-Residence.
“He’s an inspiration to look up to, one as a minister and then two as an openly queer minister, and then also as an academic.”
He currently resides in Boston with his husband, Tyrone Sutton. Administrative Assistant to the Senior Pastor Sister Ayeesha Lane, who has attended Myrtle Baptist since she was 13, said she is overwhelmed with Crowley’s hard work and love for the church.
“He has held every hand through sickness, through death—every hand, through ups and downs,” Lane said. “He does it, and he doesn’t blink an eye. He is the hardest working preacher I have ever met.” n
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COURTESY OF BRANDON THOMAS CROWLEY