It all starts with a seed—a source of hope.

Or in this particular case, a handful of seeds in the form of alumna Tamera Davis’ second grade students at Lakeland Elementary/Middle School. The class is fidgety but tuned in. As they jump into a rhyming exercise, Betsy Sherman joins them in a game of call and response at the front of the classroom.

A former teacher herself, Sherman feels right at home at Lakeland. In a hallway with cut-out paper letters reading “Education = Opportunity,” she smiles and waves to a line of students in puffy winter coats. As she sees kids studying in an alcove, she can’t help but peek over their shoulders in curiosity.

Earlier this winter, the Sherman Family Foundation donated $21 million to create the Betsy & George Sherman Center, which will expand and integrate UMBC’s work in teacher preparation, school partnerships, and applied research focused on early childhood education and improving learning outcomes for Baltimore students. 

The gift—the largest in UMBC’s history—has the potential to transform both UMBC and generations of local students. The Lakeland partnership has clearly already transformed Sherman.

“You just never know how that one moment you spend with a child impacts their lives. You may never know,” says Sherman, who with her late husband, George, began partnering with UMBC in 2006 to create the Sherman STEM Teacher Scholars Program and other related initiatives. “And so you really need to be aware that your influence can be long lasting.”

Philanthropy of this sort is not about flash or money. It’s about the long game, driven by love and hope. UMBC has, for years, stood as a fertile planting ground for very personal, values-driven giving. It’s a vision shared by Freeman and Jackie Hrabowski and close UMBC partners who have connected over the idea that change is possible—and a belief in the promise one seed can hold.

Driven By Love

For Freeman and Jackie Hrabowski, the seeds of philanthropy were planted very early in childhood. He grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, the son of two teachers; she in rural Virginia, the daughter of two first-generation college students. Both recount stories of how their families helped their communities through work in schools and churches, and how that example stuck with them throughout their lives and careers.

“I think that my foundation for fundraising and philanthropy comes from the strong belief in the power of education to transform lives,” says Freeman, who has been known to sit on the floor with elementary school children to talk excitedly about math. “Jackie and I both understand, as the children of teachers, how important teachers were in our own development.”

Later in life, as Hrabowski matured into his role as president of UMBC, he and his wife became friends with George and Betsy Sherman—folks with similar interests and hopes. As their friendship grew, so did their vision of how they might change the face of education in Baltimore. 

“As you build relationships, you build trust,” says Mrs. Hrabowski, who thinks of Betsy Sherman and her late husband as family. “You share lots of time together talking about your differences, your perspectives, and how to make it all work. It’s all about the realities of where we are and what we can do together to make a difference.”

Because “people tend to give to people,” as both Hrabowskis say, it’s not surprising that so many major philanthropic endeavors at UMBC have felt so personal in nature. Dr. Hrabowski’s relationship with Robert Meyerhoff—and a shared vision for making science more accessible to students of color—turned into a more than 30-year endeavor that has since changed the face of science and technology through the Meyerhoff Scholars Program. 

“I threw the ball, but he ran for the touchdown,” Meyerhoff said of Hrabowski recently. “He made the most of it. He is a wonderful man.” 

Similarly, a relationship with Earl and Darielle Linehan that began with Mr. Linehan’s serving on and chairing UMBC’s Board of Visitors revealed a deep desire to provide talented artists with an interdisciplinary approach to learning. Today, more than 300 Linehan Artists Scholar alumni are out in the world influencing dance, music, theatre, and other creative disciplines. 

At the core of these partnerships—like so many others nurtured by Hrabowski—is a shared desire to help others thrive. 

“When my parents and Jackie and Freeman get together, they talk about changing the world,” says Dave Sherman, noting his parents’ great love of Baltimore. “My mom and dad…not only would they provide resources, but they would provide passion. They would provide involvement…but it really all goes back to the people. And my parents wouldn’t support something that they didn’t believe would have the ability to grow.”

Watching It Grow

From her vantage point as a UMBC alumna, a mentee of Jackie Hrabowski, and vice president for economic development at Johns Hopkins University and Health System, Alicia Wilson ’04, political science, knows a good long-term investment when she sees it.

Wilson has felt the personal investment the Hrabowskis have made in her ever since she was a student. Recently, when she was sick, the pair brought Wilson a homemade pot of chicken soup, she says. At night. During a snowstorm.

Beyond her own experiences, Wilson understands how personal philanthropic commitment shows up in the community—and what a lasting effect it can make, both structurally and emotionally, for all involved. A program like the Sherman STEM Teacher Scholars is able to put enthusiastic and well-equipped teachers in front of underserved students who will thrive with the extra attention. The effort adds up over time, creating a pipeline of opportunity for kids all over Baltimore.

“If you think about the ripple effect of your impact, it’s really through people and it’s through what we invest in,” says Wilson. “And so, as you think about the impact of the philanthropy that takes place at UMBC, you can point to so many scientific advances, public health, social advances that really started at a school in Catonsville. And really the testimony is in the people.”

For Sandra Evers-Manly, president of the Northrop Grumman Foundation and a partner in the work at Lakeland Elementary/Middle School, what sets these projects apart is the way UMBC engages at all levels, looking at the long-term potential of collaborative effort. “When we first began the discussion with Freeman about his vision for Lakeland and all of our UMBC partnerships, it was never about one element, it was always about the whole picture—the impact and results. In Lakeland’s case, what did the partnership mean to the school, students, teachers, parents, and the surrounding community,” says Evers-Manly. 

“UMBC is a great neighbor,” she continues. “Some people will pick just one thing, like scholarships, and that’s it. But UMBC will say, ‘We’re going to work with families. We’re going to work with teachers. And, oh, by the way, we’re coming to you. You don’t have to come up the hill to UMBC. And we’ll find strategic partners to be a part of this.’ UMBC has the magnetism to help bring those key players into the room. What is equally impressive, is that you have both Freeman and Jackie who are so committed to the university, the greater community, and our nation. They do this in so many ways, both professionally and personally.” 

The success of a partnership can be measured in many ways—and UMBC loves to measure and study regularly to make sure their programs are working. The Sherman Scholars program now partners with 10 schools to promote academic achievement through professional development for teachers and intensive tutoring for students. For example, more than 90 UMBC students, including Sherman Scholars and others, provide evidence-based math tutoring for over 350 elementary and middle school students in several schools across Baltimore. Early data show this approach is working.

But much of what drives these programs goes beyond data.

“This isn’t academic. . . It is a heart move,” says Wilson. “And thank God their hearts are pure and good and filled with love for young people. . . and the belief in the fact that young people, regardless of their background, can achieve.”

A Seed Sustained

When Hrabowski was still interim president of UMBC, then Maryland Governor William Donald Schaefer asked what he might do to support him and UMBC. Looking out over campus from the roof of the Administration Building, Hrabowski made what was probably an unexpected request.

“He…asked what he could do, noting that he didn’t have a lot of money to throw around. I said ‘Give me trees!’” Hrabowski writes in The Empowered University, noting that Schaefer quickly followed up by calling the Department of Natural Resources and having trees planted all over the young campus grounds.

Overnight, the campus was visually changed. Thirty years later, stands of mature trees provide sanctuary for wildlife and green space for all. 

Thinking back on his years at UMBC, Hrabowski reminds us: “It’s not about me. It’s about us.” None of UMBC’s successes happen without the community, he emphasizes. UMBC is strong because we have put in the work, grown our endowment from practically nothing to more than $125 million, and proven ourselves year after year. UMBC will remain strong because of our shared commitment to inclusive excellence.

In his final months as president, Hrabowski has sealed his legacy yet again with the founding of a named scholarship that will increase access and affordability for undergraduate students with financial need and a commitment to community service. And while he has promised never to stop planting for UMBC, it’s up to the rest of us to nurture the trees he’s so faithfully tended.

“The seeds that he planted so long ago are now mighty trees,” says Wilson. “But, the goal isn’t that we just get to sit under the shade of the trees. We also have to go and plant some trees and build upon that legacy.”

By Margaret Moffett

​​For La Jerne Terry Cornish, Ph.D. ’05, language, literacy, and culture, an already remarkable day was about to become unforgettable. There she stood in front of a big crowd at UMBC, accepting the 2019 Outstanding Alumna in the Humanities award. Even better, she was getting the chance to chronicle her journey from high school English teacher to college professor to provost and vice president of Ithaca College in New York. 

“I’ve spent the last 21 years trying to be the change I wanted to see,” she told the audience—channeling the wisdom of her role model, who just happened to be sitting behind her on the stage.

Her speech complete, Cornish had returned to her chair when the role model in question leaned toward her. “You’re going to be a college president someday,” he whispered, his eyes no doubt twinkling with delight.  “If you say so,” Cornish responded with a nervous laugh, bewildered by his faith in her.

Fast forward three years to March 2022, when Cornish was named Ithaca College’s 10th president. Dr. Freeman Hrabowski was right. Again. 

At the 2019 Alumni Award ceremony, from left to right: Dr. Hrabowski, Dean Kimberly Moffitt, La Jerne Terry Cornish, and former president of the Alumni Association, John Becker ’01. Photo by Marlayna Demond ’11.

As Hrabowski prepares for his retirement as UMBC’s president, mentees like Cornish are reminding the higher education community of one of his legacies. No, not UMBC’s transformation from a young state university to U.S. News & World Report’s No. 1 “Up and Coming University” in the nation. That one’s been well documented. And no, not how he helped UMBC become a powerhouse in STEM education and the alma mater for thousands of engineers and scientists of color. That also has prompted some chatter. 

This legacy involves his impact on other chancellors and presidents, along with those who aspire to these roles. In his 30 years as UMBC president, Hrabowski has counseled scores of his peers, including Sylvia Burwell, president of American University; Paula Johnson, president of Wellesley College; and Wendy Raymond, president of Haverford College. He also has taught for 18 years at the week-long Harvard Seminar for New Presidents, which provides a crash course in higher education leadership. And he has mentored countless college and university heads—officially, unofficially, and sometimes without him even knowing it.

James Clements ’85, M.S. ’91, Ph.D. ’93, serves as president of Clemson University. Photo courtesy of Clemson University.

Hrabowski gave Cornish his cell phone number—along with the promise that she could use it at any time—within weeks of her appointment as interim president at Ithaca in August 2021. She hasn’t needed to use it. But knowing that it’s in her phone gives her a sense of comfort.  “He has always been a relational president,” she said. “That’s the one thing about him that stands out for me. I want to be that kind of relational leader—dare I say that kind of servant leader, because that’s what I see in him.”

“I would not be a president if not for him,” said James P. Clements ’85, computer science, M.S. ’91, Ph.D. ’93, operations analysis, who has led Clemson University since 2013. “I have modeled my career after him.” 

Had Hrabowski been a fly on the wall during those conversations, he would have brushed aside the accolades, then launched into a speech-slash-sermon about how everyone is capable of greatness, how it’s about the students, not the leader. “He would say that he isn’t that rare,” Cornish said. “He would say that there are other people who, given the opportunity and access, could accomplish just as much as he has and more.”

His imagined protestations notwithstanding, though, it does raise an interesting question: Can a college president learn to lead like Freeman Hrabowski? Are such talents innate or are they teachable?

Said Clements bluntly: “He’s special. Everybody who interacts with him knows it.”

“There is only one Freeman and you can’t be him or become him,” said James Honan, senior lecturer in the Harvard Graduate School of Education. “But when you hear him speak, when he answers your questions, when you watch his role modeling, you can incorporate some practices into your leadership that will help you make your institution better.”

No. 1: Take care of yourself.
No. 2: Be authentic.
No. 3: Own your mistakes.

College and university presidents come to Hrabowski so often for advice that the words come tripping off his tongue when he’s asked to recreate what he tells them. In his mind, they’re just things he has learned over the years—sometimes by watching others, sometimes through trial and error. Part of it, he believes, came from his time as a child leader in the civil rights movement in Birmingham, Alabama. One of his role models then was a preacher renowned for his ability to galvanize support and inspire a revolution: the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.

“I was very fortunate to have experiences that gave me the chance to lead,” said Hrabowski, who was arrested for his participation in the Children’s Crusade march at age 12. “Each of us is a product of our childhood and young experiences, and those experiences shape who we are, what we like, what we don’t like, how we adjust to change, how we address challenges, how we act in the storm.” 

Hrabowski practices what he preaches to the leaders he advises. He follows rule No. 1—taking care of himself—by meditating via the Calm app every day with his wife, Jacqueline Coleman Hrabowski. No. 2, being authentic, just comes naturally to him. And he may take No. 3, owning his mistakes, more seriously than any college president in the world.

Consider, for instance, this story from 2018—26 years into Hrabowski’s tenure as president. At an event honoring several high academic achievers, it seems he spent a little too much time bragging about UMBC’s first Rhodes Scholar, Naomi Mburu ’18, M26, chemical engineering, who is now at Oxford University working on heat transfer applications for nuclear fusion reactors. The others on stage felt slighted by his fawning words for Mburu.

Mburu with Dr. Gymama Slaughter in her lab at UMBC in 2018. Marlayna Demond ’11.

How does he know this? Because Mburu came to his office and told him so, an act that required her to summon both justice and mercy. Hrabowski was alarmed by her words, which he recognized were true the moment he heard her speak them. He had indeed failed to give enough attention to all the scholars on stage. “I’ve always taken great pride in working to let every person know how much I appreciate them, that they matter,” he said. “And there I was, without even realizing it, not holding up to my own standard.”

So he called each one, apologized, and asked to hear their stories. According to Hrabowski: “It was a lesson for me: Don’t allow my excitement about one person to take away from helping each [honoree] feel her best.”

That may be Hrabowski’s lesson learned. But the larger one for leaders of higher education institutions is the importance of being open to constructive feedback and criticism, especially if it comes from a student. Leaders who reflect on their failures more than their successes are the ones who experience real growth, said Honan. 

“Leadership is a practice,” he said. “It doesn’t always work out. One makes mistakes. There are failures. And I think Freeman can help people see that through his own self-reflection in a very powerful way. And when it comes from a distinguished president, that’s even more powerful.” 

Perhaps he took Mburu’s feedback more seriously because she was a student. When Clements was a young faculty member at nearby Towson University, he would often find himself at events where Hrabowski was speaking. It was clear that students were his priority, Clements said. “I listened to his words. I watched his heart. And I saw how he cared so much about making a difference in people’s lives,” he said. “He is driven by helping other people succeed by giving them a better life, by giving them a better path.” 

Hrabowski has but one non-negotiable tenet for leading a college or university: Students come first. “I don’t think there’s any role we have as educators that’s more important than connecting meaningfully to our students and to each other,” he said. “We prepare them not simply to work on biochemistry but to decide who they are, what’s important to them. What are their habits of mind? How do they think about different issues? How do they approach problems? How do they think about the world? About their place in the world?”

Teachable Moments

Over the years, though, Hrabowski has found himself dealing with the less romantic side of higher education, as college presidents invariably do. Those situations also create teachable moments for his peers—including one that became a case study for Harvard’s Graduate School of Education.

During a state funding crisis in the 1990s, leaders at UMBC and other state-run universities in Maryland had to find creative ways to offset the losses. Hrabowski turned to the then little-known UMBC Board of Visitors, a sleepy advisory committee that met sporadically and whose membership had dwindled to just three. He revitalized the board by appointing 20 prominent leaders in Baltimore, each of whom received a firsthand look at the momentum building at the university. They also got a close-up look at the young, dynamic president who was promising great things for UMBC and its students. 

The board—dubbed “Friends of Freeman” by Sheldon Caplis, then the vice president of Institutional Advancement—became a link to millions in private dollars, which helped refill the coffers during brutal times financially. “You’ve got to build relationships, and it’s even more critical when you don’t come from a private school with wealthy trustees or wealthy alumni when you’re really building from the ground up,” said Caplis, who taught alongside Hrabowski at Harvard’s Institute for Management and Leadership in Education for several years. Caplis said that as the pair recounted the “Friends of Freeman” story to the group, much head shaking and laughter would ensue—as though it were some magic trick that only Freeman Hrabowski could pull off. 

“These were new presidents, so a lot of them didn’t have any fundraising experience,” Caplis said. “So they really wanted to know, ‘Well, how do you interact?’” 

Again, it raises the question of whether you can teach someone to lead like Freeman A. Hrabowski, III. But at the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter whether it’s nature or nurture, this amalgam of personality traits allowed him to reinvent UMBC and go down in history as one of higher education’s best leaders. Forums like the new presidents seminar are simply a way to “peel back the onion a little bit,” said Greg Simmons, M.P.P. ’04, the current vice president of Institutional Advancement and Hrabowski’s most recent teaching partner at the Harvard seminar. The same goes for college presidents like Cornish, Clements, and others who are fortunate enough to receive his mentoring.

“They don’t have to be Freeman,” Simmons said. “They’ve just got to know how to work with other people in a really effective, genuine, human kind of way. That’s Freeman’s real gift.” 

Clements said he has met people across the country who consider Hrabowski their mentor. And that, he said, has a multiplying effect that defies calculation.

“We’re trying to make a difference like he did,” Clements said. “It amplifies his impact because of how he’s helped so many other leaders and how he’s shown us how to lead. It allows us to change more lives based on what we saw him do. It goes way beyond UMBC.”

Please review the candidates in our nomination document linked below and select one who you would like to have represent your College as part of the Adjunct Faculty Advisory Committee for 2022-2024. Voting ends 5/6/2022. 

Candidate Statements

Please review the candidates in our nomination document linked below and select two who you would like to have represent your College as part of the Adjunct Faculty Advisory Committee for 2022-2024. Voting ends 5/6. 

Candidate Statements

Please review the candidates in our nomination document linked below and select one who you would like to have represent your College as part of the Adjunct Faculty Advisory Committee for 2022-2024. Voting ends 5/6.  

Candidate Statements

Join CS3 and the Department of Sociology, Anthropology, and Public Health for the annual Health and Inequality Lecture on Tuesday, May 3, at 4pm. Dr. Davis is Professor of Urban Studies and Anthropology Director, Center for the Study of Women and Society at the Graduate Center City University of New York. The lecture will be followed by a question and answer session, and an opportunity to meet (virtually) with Dr. Davis.

Visit the Original Post to RSVP and to access the online link for the lecture.

By Loren Henderson, associate professor, Sociology, UMBC

I spent the 2020 spring break week setting up to teach my college courses online while helping to care for my 14-month-old grandchild, whose daycare had closed. At the same time, I couldn’t help thinking, being the sociologist I am, of the devastating consequences of COVID-19 I saw for women like me, Black mothers, whom I have studied for over a decade.

Social science research can influence policy. Sharing Black mothers’ stories in their own voices may ultimately lead to more compassionate policies. My work is part of a small body of descriptive research, mostly by researchers of color, countering negativity and victim-blaming in earlier studies of Black families.

My research partner, sociologist BarBara Scott, lives in Chicago, where I grew up. In our studies of Black mothers there, we’ve explored parenting in violent communities and living with inadequate health care. In 2019, before COVID-19 hit, we were preparing to study parenting practices.

Parenting didn’t stop when the pandemic started. kali9/E+ via Getty Images

But when lab conditions change, scientists need to reorganize their work. I am a social scientist and society is my lab, where the pandemic dramatically altered the conditions of my research.

We adjusted, preparing to interview remotely instead of in person. We added new questions to investigate, like: How were Black mothers coping with pandemic conditions? How did the murder of George Floyd and the resulting protests affect them? Our research would now include the pandemic and the country’s racial upheaval, highly unusual factors complicating Black mothers’ already challenging lives.

Researching with rapport

The first challenge was finding participants. We put up fliers in and around schools, churches, the YWCA and other places Black moms go when not at work. Even in the best of times, though, they face practical barriers to joining a research project. Child care responsibilities might be theirs alone. Taking time off from work means their paychecks take a hit not nearly covered by the $25 gift cards we offered.

But they called. Some just wanted to sign up after looking me up on their phones. Others, who may have known that the federal government oversees studies involving people, asked why I was studying them and what I would do with their information. I knew that if any of the women thought talking with me might bring embarrassment or other trouble, they might be less forthcoming or decide not to participate. My findings would be much less credible.

I assured the moms that I would keep their responses confidential and that they had a right to leave the study whenever they wanted to.

None of them did. We signed up enough moms for two focus groups of five to seven participants each. I ran group meetings and conducted 12 one-on-one interviews via video conferencing.

To start our 60- to 90-minute sessions, I introduced myself and got the mothers talking with an ice breaker question like, “What is the farthest place from your current neighborhood that you’ve been?”

Many Black mothers were front-line workers who couldn’t heed the message on Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot’s mask in the early days of the pandemic. AP Photo/Nam Y. Huh

I also tell them that I have a Black mom, and that I am one. And then, because my skin tone is fair, I mention that I have an Italian father. I didn’t want to be mistaken for white; the moms might feel less comfortable discussing certain topics with me. But after realizing that I’m Black too, a few of them said things like, “I knew there was something about you!”

I share my belief in centering – and that’s the word I use – Black mothers’ lived experiences and exploring their parenting from a strength perspective. That’s when I got a lot of smiling and nodding.

No time for racism

Black mothers don’t need a pandemic to face impossible choices. But it took a pandemic for others to see that. As nearly everyone else stayed home to stop the spread of COVID-19, it became obvious that Black women were more likely than any one else to be essential workers in front-line jobs. And despite risking COVID-19 infection to keep their jobs, Black workers were more likely to lose them anyway during the pandemic.

I asked the mothers about the pandemic’s effect on their lives. They talked about the trickiness of trying to isolate or distance in small or crowded homes. They hated being unable to get masks and hand sanitizer when stores closed during the George Floyd protests, which none of them attended.

None of the Black moms in the study went to the protests George Floyd’s death spurred in 2020. Natasha Moustache/Getty Images News via Getty Images

I asked why they didn’t go, given their stated frustrations with racism affecting their lives. Some didn’t want to risk getting sick. But most of these Black mothers told me they don’t dwell on racism, saying things like, “Yeah, racism is bad, but I got things to do.”

And so they did those things. While at work, they sent their kids text reminders to go to remote school if it was available, or if it was not, to study. The moms came home from long shifts and helped with homework, worrying about their kids falling behind academically. The mothers worried about getting COVID-19 and losing custody of kids if they became too sick to parent well.

Keeping the conversation flowing

The qualitative research I do is about words and meanings, not just numbers and statistics. It allows me to explore the lives of Black moms in depth.

In my interviews, I don’t ask closed-ended questions – the kind where the answer is simply yes or no, true or false, or limited to a set of multiple-choice answers. For example, if a participant can only respond to the question, “How safe is your community?” with the options “very safe,” “somewhat safe,” or “not safe,” that’s a closed-ended question.

In qualitative research, however, questions are often open-ended. Participants decide what a question means to them, then answer in any way they choose. I’ve been asking the Black mothers questions like: “How do you feel about Chicago as a place to live and raise your children? How do you feel about working and raising your children during the COVID-19 pandemic?”

Reading the transcribed interviews later, I look for general thoughts, or themes, in the mothers’ collective responses. For example, when I asked about violence, the overall sentiment was that it was around, but avoidable. One participant told me, “You have to know where [to go] and where not to go, when to go and when not to go.” And she called Chicago “a great place,” with “great opportunities” for anyone who wanted to be there.

This response was common: The moms know that Chicago can be violent, but many focus on the positive aspects of the city. My theory is that this is their conscious or unconscious way of explaining why they stay in a violent community. That question has come often enough – usually from those with far more options – to hang over the heads of these Black moms, even if no one asks them directly.

A related sentiment the moms had was that moving away is pointless since violence “is everywhere.” They may simply want to stay close to the generations of family and community ties they have. But it’s also true that moving isn’t affordable for many of these mothers.

Identifying these themes helps me present a picture of Black mothers’ lives as a corrective to the earlier research. Documenting their experiences as the center of my research gives them a voice and validates their lives as worthy of exploration.

******

Header image: When schools shut down to prevent the spread of COVID-19, moms took on the burden of supporting students at home. AP Photo/Shafkat Anowar

Loren Henderson, Associate Professor of Sociology, University of Maryland, Baltimore County

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.