Since I was 11, I dreamed of attending a historically Black college or university.
That dream started at Morgan State University in Baltimore, where I spent two weeks each summer in a program focused on leadership and academics.
For a preteen growing up in Baltimore City, Morgan felt like another world. I had seen drug deals outside my front door and heard gunshots while playing hide and seek with friends. My mother refused to let our neighborhood define what I thought was possible for my life.
At Morgan, I saw Black students carrying backpacks and briefcases, preparing for careers and building futures. They looked like the life my mother kept…
