We Deserve To Know How Many Generational African Americans Go to Harvard

As a generational African American student, coming to Harvard has certainly been “transformative.”

Growing up in Alabama, I spent my entire life around generational African Americans — Black people descended from chattel slaves. So imagine my surprise when I arrived at Harvard and found precious few among its sizable Black community.

With the admissions data released last week, it seems almost certain that the number of Black students in Harvard’s Class of 2028 is lower than in years past. But because Harvard doesn’t count us, I have no idea how many fewer people like me the new freshman class has. Especially after the fall of affirmative action, the College has a responsibility to measure representation within the Black community at Harvard — and take meaningful steps to preserve it.

While Harvard reports the data on the number of Black students on campus, “Black” is a weak descriptor. Broadly speaking, Black immigrants to the United States have higher rates of college education and household income, and a lower poverty rate than U.S-born African Americans. This does not mean their experiences are not difficult, but the challenges they face are fundamentally different from those faced by generational African Americans.

And hardship notwithstanding, the culture, traditions, and practices of Black immigrants differ from those of generational African Americans. As a university, we must celebrate and recognize the benefits all people add to our campus, and to do so requires we recognize those experiences are not monolithic.

Due to underrepresentation on college campuses, students across the Ivy League have created generational African American student associations to promote, celebrate, and recognize the unique perspective brought by students descended from slavery. Harvard celebrates that we learn from the experiences of people from different states, countries, and backgrounds. But the College will twice lose out if a now-smaller Black community also lacks diversity internally.

Harvard does not publish data on how many generational African Americans belong to each admitted class, and beyond anecdotal evidence, there is no research that fills the gap. We can do better than that — Black student diversity on our campus should not be a guessing game.

It’s unclear whether descendancy from slavery could legally be used as a new basis for affirmative action. But even just beginning to collect this data would raise awareness of the issue and enable us to evaluate the efficacy of Harvard’s new admissions practices for preserving diversity within identity groups as much as between them.

This isn’t merely a “Black issue” — it affects all students, regardless of their race or background. Just as much as our in-class experiences, meeting people who are different from you, people who disagree with you, and people who can challenge and expand your mindset is a hallmark of these four years.

Still, data is just a start. If it wants to show its true commitment to diversity, Harvard should consider taking a page out of Georgetown University’s book. Since 2016, Georgetown has given an admissions boost to students descended from enslaved people owned by the Jesuits that founded it. Because this preference is based on descendancy rather than race, it appears safe from last year’s decision on affirmative action.

While deciphering who is truly the descendant of a slave owned by the founding members of Harvard College would be a challenge, it is an initiative worthy of consideration. If our institution is truly dedicated to making amends for its shameful history of slavery and responding to the fall of affirmative action, administrators owe it to us to at least give a descendant policy a long, hard look.

To throw our hands up and mourn the loss of Black students after the end of affirmative action is unacceptable. We must call on the University to take more decisive action to reaffirm their commitment to a diverse and included student body.

M. Austen Wyche ’27, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Winthrop House.