Success and Survival: Black Advantaged Parents’ Views of Race,White Space,and HBCU Attendance

Socialization, Sociocultural Tools, and the Family

Scholars have explored the relationship between family, culture, and social inequality. Literature on cultural capital for example highlights culture as an essential aspect of the status transmission process across generations, in which parents play active roles. Scholars largely focus on the benefits and consequences of cultural capital, the extent to which families transmit important cultural resources to their children, and its relationship to class resources (Calarco 2014; Lareau 2011). Research shows that parents provide their children with experiences, knowledge, and skills to grant advantages to get ahead in life (Lareau and Weininger 2008). As emerging adults, children draw upon accrued knowledge and skills to traverse environments, including college and the workplace, more easily (Jack 2019; Rivera 2015).

Whereas existing literature shows that parents from middle-class backgrounds appear to work to ensure that children have the tools to succeed, the motivations and implications behind these processes are also informed by race and racism. White parents, for example, have the privilege of opting in and out of the racial socialization of their children, with little to no consequence for opportunity or life chances. For Black parents, children’s socialization around race is a necessity (Underhill 2019). After all, anti-Black racism shapes the need for dominant sociocultural tools and determines its legibility (Carter 2003; Lacy 2007; Turner 2020; Wallace 2017). Karyn Lacy (2007) argues that the Black middle class cultivate a sociocultural toolkit, or a set of multiple identities and cultural resources to be dispersed appropriately and within specific contexts (Swidler 1986). Derron Wallace (2017) posits that Black middle-class parents foster Black cultural capital—which while seemingly satisfying dominant cultural norms embody Black middle-class cultural identities. I argue that these processes are consequential for the success and survival of Black children. Here, I understand sociocultural toolkits as a broader phenomenon within Black parents’ socialization process. I view sociocultural toolkits as an expansive set of strategic resources informed by race and class positionality, and which include and draw upon various forms of capital. Black parents, including those with class privileges, must think deeply about the sociocultural tools that children need to thrive (Dow 2019; Turner 2020). Black advantaged parents, therefore, simultaneously contend with the desires to enhance their children’s sociocultural toolkits and worries about their ability to deploy said tools during the transition into adulthood.

Black Advantaged Parenting and Racial and Cultural Socialization

The experiences of Black advantaged families are of a wide range in form and consequence. To a degree, economic resources afford members opportunities of consumption, including housing in affluent neighborhoods with greater access to resources and some protection from crime and violence (Cashin 2000; Claytor 2020; Lacy 2007; Lareau 2011; Pattillo 2013). To protect future opportunities, Black middle-class parents often enroll their children in suburban and private schools where they can be involved in their children’s education (Bailey-Fakoury 2014; Brown 2022; Posey-Maddox 2017). Yet, scholars also detail the limitations of class, highlighting the tension between class and racial status as it relates to socialization around race (Lewis-McCoy 2016; Posey-Maddox et al. 2021). Scholars understand racial socialization as a process inherent to Black parenting wherein children receive messages about race and the consequences of racism. Through “verbal and non-verbal messaging (e.g., modeling of behavior and exposure to different contexts),” parents help children develop “values, attitudes, behaviors, and beliefs regarding the meaning and significance of race and racial stratification, intergroup and intragroup interactions, and personal and group identification,” much of which are shaped by the realities of anti-Blackness (Lesane-Brown 2006).

Despite class privileges, the Black middle class continue to live in a racialized world wherein living in suburban neighborhoods, working in racially segregated professions, and enrolling children in predominately White suburban schools shape the perspectives they develop and how they socialize children around race (Bailey-Fakoury 2014; Lewis-McCoy 2016; Posey-Maddox 2017). The Black middle class experience racial isolation, exclusion, and fewer connections to other Black families (Lacy 2007; Wingfield and Chavez 2020). Despite class resources, Black advantaged parents often supplement social, educational, and extracurricular engagement (Dow 2019; Lacy 2007).

Exposing children to Black spaces and cultural elements is one mode of transmitting positive messages about racial identity. Parents rely on churches, social clubs, and organized activities to counter their time in White spaces and increase connections to Black identities and sociocultural tools (Dow 2019; Lacy 2007; Wallace 2017). While often connected to the goals of racial socialization, cultural socialization involves parents’ efforts to “teach children about their racial or ethnic heritage and history . . . [,] cultural customs [,] and traditions [to] promote children’s racial and ethnic pride.” In contrast, racial socialization broadly refers to the transmission of “information regarding race” (Hughes et al. 2006). Either way, these processes often converge as parents endeavor to facilitate children’s racial identity development and prepare them for racial encounters. Many parents teach their children about Black culture and pride inside the home, strategies that positively influence psychological and social outcomes such as academic performance (Thomas and King 2007). Parents explain rules about physical safety, encourage self-confidence, and warn children about the importance of self-presentation to combat negative stereotypes about Blackness (Edwards and Few-Demo 2016; Turner 2020). Parents teach children how to navigate social settings through code-switching and class signaling, highlighting that socialization around race is not only about acquiring racial knowledge but also embodying that information, what I and others recognize as a sociocultural tool (Bailey-Fakoury 2014; Lareau 2002; Lewis-McCoy 2016; Threlfall 2018; Turner 2020). Various scholars like Lacy (2007) have written about the possession of sociocultural toolkits as a compilation of resources and skills while also emphasizing the conditions and context that require individuals to deploy said tools. Joanne W. Golann (2021) refers to these resources as tools of interaction, or “attitudes, skills, and styles that allow certain groups to navigate complex institutions” (Golann 2021: 3). I add to this literature by focusing on what Black parents deem necessary for children’s sociocultural toolkits for navigating White space, adulthood, and transitional moments in life such as applying to college and entering the workforce.

Black Advantaged Parents’ College Perspectives and the Transition to Work in Anti-Black World

I build upon previous scholarship investigating how Black advantaged parents think about college selection and understand returns to college including studies exploring Black college decision-making which highlight the value of college-going and debates about choices between attending HBCUs or historically White schools (Chapman et al. 2018; Lacy 2007; Weis, Cipollone, and Jenkins 2014). Because anti-Black discrimination shapes the hierarchy of higher education and opportunity postgraduation, Black parents’ thoughts about college and returns to degrees are complex (Faulk 2023; Gaddis 2015; Hout 2012; Rivera 2015). Parents’ worries about college highlight fears about experiences with anti-Black racism during college and how college selection influences experiences in the future (Chapman et al. 2018). Black families have concerns about racial diversity on college campuses, whether children will be treated fairly, and whether children will fit in, a concern that appears less pronounced among families of more affluent backgrounds or with children who attended elite postsecondary schools (Faulk 2023; Jack 2019; Weis et al. 2014). Literature on HBCU choices highlights HBCU attendance as a solution to exclusion on historically White campuses, yet class adds important nuance (Williams, Palmer, and Jones 2021). Lacy (2007) finds that Black middle-class parents fear attending Black colleges underprepares their children for encounters in the real world and encourage their children to attend White colleges where they can interact with peers from diverse backgrounds. I add an important nuance to Karyn Lacy’s (2007) research by further exploring parents’ thoughts on the sociocultural benefits or drawbacks of attending HBCUs for children’s preparation for encounters with racism and White space.

Previous research has focused on the value that affluent families place on college to compete in unstable and shifting economies (Cooper 2014; McMillan Cottom 2017). Despite the social and economic advantages afforded to most college graduates (compared with their counterparts without degrees), inequities persist among the college-educated (Hout 2012). College graduates from elite and selective colleges, for example, reap the benefit of their institutional backgrounds; applicants from high-status schools secure elite jobs, higher earnings, and reinforced social status (Rivera 2015). Black graduates, however, and even those from selective colleges, face unequal access when applying to jobs. Black college graduates earn significantly less compared with their counterparts, raising the question of how racism, masquerading as cultural preferences, operates in the transition from school to work (Gaddis 2015; Zhou and Pan 2023).

Previous research demonstrates that anti-Black racism shapes opportunities for Black workers to access and advance within organizations that maintain racial and cultural hierarchies and the positionality of Black people (Pager 2003; Ray 2019; Roscigno and Ainsworth-Darnell 1999; Wingfield and Chavez 2020). Black professionals, even those with credentials, encounter racial isolation and barriers to success at work, requiring them to engage in strategies such as shifting, code-switching, and building relationships with White colleagues to withstand anti-Black discrimination in the professional sphere (Hall, Everett, and Hamilton-Mason 2012; McCluney et al. 2021). While ultimately reliance on these skills may fail, Black advantaged parents are postured to anticipate and draw upon these experiences to prepare their children for the future.

In the following sections, I focus on parental thoughts about HBCUs to argue that racial positionality (together with class status) informs how parents understand the sociocultural knowledge children require as adults. While Black advantaged parents’ views of HBCUs are informed by desires for their children to expand their respective sociocultural toolkits and prepare for work, I posit that parents’ fears about anti-Black racism and White space are at the root. Using parents’ thoughts about HBCU attendance as a case, I uncover perceptions about the sociocultural tools necessary for navigating White spaces.

Data Collection

All participants self-identified as Black (at least three participants or their spouse also identified as multiracial/ethnic). Parents were raising a child in their junior or senior year in high school, were classified as advantaged (e.g., middle, upper middle, or upper class), and lived within 30 miles of Atlanta or Columbus. Each city holds distinct histories relative to race relations, class disparities, and cultures around college-going. Atlanta, for example, reflects vivid cultural imageries of upwardly mobile Black people in America (McMillan Cottom 2017). Often referred to as the “Black Mecca,” and home to the largest number of HBCUs, Black Atlantans make up about 48.2 percent of the population (Data 2020a; Hobson 2017). On the contrary, Columbus has a small Black advantaged population. Across the city, Black people consist of only 29.2 percent of the population and trail behind their counterparts as it relates education and occupation attainment (Data USA 2020b). While geographical location is an important factor in shaping lived experiences and opportunity, this article argues that parents’ concerns about race in the workplace are of particular significance.

I recruited participants using a variety of methods including distributing my recruitment flyer to Black professional and community organizations, groups, and events (e.g., businesses, churches, and college fairs). I also shared my recruitment flyer on social media from my personal accounts. As an HBCU graduate from a college based in Atlanta and as a graduate student and active member of the Columbus community at the time of data collection, I recruited most participants using extended networks and snowball sampling, though I had only previously met one of the participants. If there were two parents in the home, and whenever possible, I interviewed each parent separately. Among total interviews, 31 were conducted with parents individually. In total, four interviews were conducted with two parents present. Each interview lasted between one and three hours. Most interviews were conducted in person and in a location chosen by the participants. On occasion, interviews were conducted via phone or videoconferencing. To protect the confidentiality of the participants, intimate details of their lives are anonymized, and all names referenced are pseudonyms.

Sample Characteristics

The daily lives of families captured in this study pattern extant literature on this population (Dow 2019; Lacy 2007). During interviews, parents often reflected on their families’ experiences being one of the only views of Black people on their jobs, neighborhoods, and schools. Many of these families lived in predominately White or sparsely diverse neighborhoods and sent their children to predominately White suburban or private schools. As a result, many parents and their children were actively living in and navigating racially isolated lives in White space.

Select demographic data are reflected in Table 1. Although I refer to parents when presenting the results, the demographic data here are organized by families for ease of interpretation and to account for two-parent households. Among those married within the sample (20), all participants were in intraracial couples. Eight of those interviewed were divorced, separated, and/or single at the time of the interview. One of the mothers interviewed was partnered with a spouse with an African immigrant background, another participant identified as Afro-Latino, and one parent was from the Caribbean. Eighteen families had at least one parent with a master’s degree and worked in a white-collar or professional/managerial occupation. Twenty-two families enrolled their children in public high schools. Although most parents sent their children to public schools, many were in suburban areas. In contrast, six families enrolled their children in private high schools. Eighteen families had children in their senior year of high school and 10 families included children who were juniors in high school. As it relates to gender, an equal number of families were raising girls (14) and boys (14). Twenty-four interviews were conducted with mothers even in instances where there was another parent in the household. Seven interviews included fathers. Given mothers’ role in child-rearing and racial socialization, I posit that the overrepresentation of mothers had minimal impact on the findings represented here (Brown 2022). Relative to college histories, nine of the participants or their spouses were graduates of HBCUs. Of those who attended HBCUs, four participants were living in Atlanta.

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Table 1.

Select Demographic Information.

Total number of families	28
Geographic location
Atlanta	8
Columbus	20
Class background
Upper class	6
Upper middle class	12
Middle class	10
Parents’ highest level of educational attainment
High school diploma or some college	1
Bachelor’s degree	9
Master’s degree or higher	18
Parents’ highest level of occupational prestige
Blue-collar	0
White-collar	28
Focal child’s high school
Private	6
Public	22
Focal child’s high school classification
Senior	18
Junior	10
Focal child’s gender
Girls	14
Boys	14
HBCU attendance a	9

a

Participants attended/graduated from an HBCU.

Data Analysis

Interviews covered a range of topics, including questions about parents’ educational histories and thoughts about college, children’s college plans, and parental concerns about the children leaving home for college. After all interviews were transcribed, interviews were coded manually line-by-line (Charmaz 2006; Esterberg 2001; Glasser and Strauss 1999). Initial codes reflect a variety of descriptive themes and patterns within the data. After descriptive coding, I “coded the codes,” or combined codes based on patterns and similarities (Charmaz 2006; Esterberg 2001). The findings that follow capture how parents understand children’s futures as college graduates and adults, what tools they believe children need to succeed in the world, and what beliefs parents hold about their children attending HBCUs.

Black Parental Understandings of the “Real World” as White

Interviews reveal Black advantaged parents’ cognizance of the unavoidability of experiences in White spaces and concerns about children’s capacity to navigate White spaces as adults. Because parents often work (and to some extent live) in White spaces, they have developed various strategies to negotiate Whiteness and anti-Blackness in the “real world.” Parents worry that failure to confidently navigate White-dominant cultural expectations may impact their children’s future success.

Denise discussed her experience as a working professional. She graduated from a historically White college and was raising her son with her husband in the suburbs of Atlanta. While Black professionals may frequently encounter Black peers in racially diverse cities such as Atlanta, Denise highlights that this is rare. To explain, she says, “. . . It’s the real world. [I] Go to work and be the only Black girl on the floor . . . you be at a meeting and [you’re] the only Black girl, Black boy. . .” Despite relocating to Atlanta where the Black elite and middle class have long thrived, Denise perceives the real world as White. Being the only Black person on her job led Denise to believe that similar conditions awaited her son as a professional. She notes that he already attended school in a White space with few Black teachers and peers, leaving Denise to believe that racial isolation was to be expected.

Others shared Denise’s thoughts about children’s futures in a real White world. Given the exclusion of Black people from employment, racial isolation within the workplace, and parents’ experiences within professional settings, many parents believed that their children should get used to such contexts. To describe her daughter’s future as a professional, Ivory, a nurse and single mother of three living about 15 miles east of Columbus, draws on her own personal experience. Ivory grew up in a predominately Black neighborhood in Ohio and graduated from a historically White state school. She joked that rarely would her daughter encounter predominately Black communities, “because that’s [not] what the world looks like.” She continues,

Everywhere else [that] I [have] lived besides Charlotte [North Carolina], *laughs* people didn’t look like me. And professionally, I think nursing has become tremendously more diverse since I graduated . . . but depending on where you work or where you live, you might not see a lot of people [who look like you]

Ivory spent time outside of Ohio working in cities with larger Black populations and noticed the growing racial diversity of nursing and progress in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) and medicine. Yet, apart from what Marcus Anthony Hunter and Zandria F. Robinson (2018) refer to as “chocolate cities,” or locales with large populations of Black people and leadership, she believed that most cities and professional occupations remain White. Ivory’s experiences speak to the influence of location and its impact on her daughter’s future as an employee. Recent studies show that college-educated workers often live away from where they grew up, suggesting that even when young people grow up with racial diversity, their educational and professional choices could lead them to different worlds (United States Congress Joint Economic Committee 2019). Parents thus understood their children would enter White spaces.

Ivory also suggests that some fields like nursing remain White, highlighting the limitations of diverse geographical locations to insulate Black people from White space. Black advantaged parents considered this possibility and expected children to enter professions dominated by Whiteness. Instead of focusing on the chance of finding spaces with greater racial diversity, Ivory and Denise highlight the reality of fewer Black people in largely White professions. Even in Atlanta, a city with more Black professionals, advantaged families, and opportunities for respite from White space, Denise remains one of a few Black women in her workplace—and notes that disparity also exists in her son’s school (Hobson 2017). Ultimately, living in Black cities does not protect families from the experience or perceptions of working in White space.

Angela, an accountant, and mother of two, explains the consequences of Blackness in a White world not only in terms of college and work but also in unexpected “situations”:

[O]nce you get out and work . . . depending on where she [my daughter] chose [to go to college], what she decided to do in her life . . . I don’t think the world would be [predominately black]. So . . . I think at some point in time, you’re thrust into situations where you may be the only person who looks like you

Like Ivory, Angela graduated from a historically White college and was raising her daughters with her husband in a predominately White neighborhood in Columbus. Reflecting on her daughters’ transition into the real world, she hints at the unavoidability of entering spaces as the only Black person. Given the racial composition of Columbus suburbs, families spent most of their time in White space, and many parents viewed working alongside other Black people as an oddity. Through parents’ discussions about race in the world, we see an acknowledgment that children will face racial isolation in their futures and particularly on the job, even if somehow, they were able to avoid it in other areas of life (e.g., neighborhoods, social life, or majority Black cities). Like Ivory, Angela indicates that Black advantaged parents expect their children to move from their hometowns/states for college or work. Children from advantaged backgrounds often attend college further away from home compared with their counterparts from less resourced backgrounds (Mullen 2010). College-educated workers are also less likely to work in their hometowns (United States Congress Joint Economic Committee 2019). Essentially, parents describe their children’s educational and professional futures as ones which are likely to be White.

Marcia, an industry manager, and mother of three boys in a predominately White suburb of Columbus, extends the challenge of White space to navigating a globally White world. She says of one of her sons, “. . . he’s going to be living in the real world. The reality is unless he moves to a third world country . . . most of the people in his work circle . . . will not look like him.” Having grown up in the Caribbean, immigrated to the US, and attended a historically White school, Marcia asserts that the world is structured as White—especially the workplace. While parents spoke broadly about the world when discussing navigating White spaces, they focused on work and educational experiences. Parents’ reflections demonstrated a shared understanding of the burden of being one of the only Black persons on their job or in other White spaces. Parents recognized the skill to cope, navigate, and succeed despite the challenges of being in White spaces as a necessity. While parents in Atlanta and Columbus had differing proximities to White space in the cities where they lived, they shared beliefs about the demands of White space and the potential geographical mobility of their children.

The Necessity of Sociocultural Tools in White Space

While contemplating children’s transitions to adulthood and the realities of White space, parents worried about their children being ill-prepared and un-equipped for interactions with White peers and dominant culture more generally. As a result, parents considered the importance of developing sociocultural tools for navigating White space. Sarah, a home health nurse, graduate of a historically White liberal arts college, and mother of three in the suburbs of Atlanta, discussed the necessity of a set of tools for negotiating careers in White professional spaces. Despite growing up in the city limits of Atlanta, Sarah raised her children in the suburbs in a less diverse neighborhood, a common reality for upwardly mobile Black folks. Sarah’s comments uphold beliefs that the real world is White while stressing that children must learn to navigate society. To explain, Sarah says,

[T]he real world, let’s talk about it . . . just being able to be around some different people . . . to deal with the workforce [,] because nine times out of ten it’s not going to be . . . you know all black people. That’s what I’ve talked to her [my daughter] about. I said, “You . . . have to learn to live and work around all different types of people.”

Many parents shared Sarah’s focus on children developing comfort with different people in the workforce as a useful skill for the future. Parents understood that Black people must equip themselves with sociocultural tools for the reality that working in spaces with “all Black people” is uncommon. To navigate interactions with people from different backgrounds, some parents emphasized the importance of learning and embodying dominant behaviors. Jennifer L. Turner (2020) similarly argues Black parents and children from low-income backgrounds often teach and rely on “respectable” behaviors as strategies to help assuage racial discrimination, isolation, and harm. While Turner (2020) argues that Black middle-class parents and children can more easily signal belonging due to class resources, conversations with Black advantaged parents of emerging adult children beg the question as to whether these privileges matter in the transition to adulthood. To articulate fears about perceptions of children, Black advantaged parents evoked narratives about difference and diversity.

While referencing diversity, parents described children’s ability to thrive in White spaces. In this instance, White spaces were not exclusively those with mostly White people but also where the sociocultural expectations were rooted in White middle-class norms (Turner 2020). Like Sarah, Tanya, a manager at a nonprofit and a graduate of a historically White college raising her three children in Columbus with her husband, explains the necessity of sociocultural tools for what many parents referred to as “diverse” environments. To articulate this point, Tanya says, “. . . we have taught them . . . we just wanted to make sure that our kids . . . had the experience. They can flip it from urban to corporate.” Although using race-neutral language, Tanya distinguishes between the existing social worlds to explain the necessary skills to be cultivated. Tanya’s emphasis on her children excelling in “corporate” settings highlights the juxtaposition of work and everyday life for some Black professionals. Because Tanya raised her children to engage in what Lacy (2007) calls strategic assimilation, or the ability to traverse the terrain of both Blackness and life in White America, she believed that they were well poised for either environment. Black parents teaching their children how to “flip it from urban to corporate” exemplifies the labor of code-switching, or adapting one’s behaviors, speech, and mannerisms to the present sociocultural context, a skill typically discussed within the work literature (Nilep 2006). Studies elsewhere have shown code-switching to be an expected and effective strategy, although not without limitations (McCluney et al. 2021). Yet, knowing that code-switching may be necessary and learning how to do it concerned parents. Parents linked their children’s survival in the workplace to being able to provide for themselves and maintain class status. During our conversations about the future, many parents talked about wanting their children to maintain their affluent lifestyles and worried that an inability to fulfill the sociocultural expectations of the workplace threatened that goal. This realization highlights the importance of employment to upward mobility and the (in)stability of the Black middle class (Hill 2022). Parents’ worries about children getting it wrong speak to the vulnerabilities of Black people in an anti-Black world wherein education and employment have been used as means for advancement. To address this, parents focused on the development of children’s sociocultural toolkits.

Black advantaged parents also acknowledged personal failures relative to preparation. Julia, an educator, and mother in Columbus, draws upon her difficulties in graduate school to explain the necessary tools of interaction within White spaces (Golann 2021). She highlights the consequences of entering White space without the appropriate sociocultural toolkit. Reflecting on her experiences attending a predominately White graduate school, Julia says,

I . . . was not comfortable in graduate school, I was the only Black female . . . *pause* amongst, *pause* I think we had 21 [students in my class] . . . So, having to speak . . . *pause* against white guys . . . [as the only Black woman] I’m like, “No.” That takes some confidence to . . . help you deal with that.

Julia wanted to excel among her White peers but recognized how difficult and unfamiliar it could be without tools such as confidence in self, identity, and ability. Instead of suggesting more time in White space, she highlights a strategy rooted in Blackness by speaking to the utility of Black identity and consciousness to help withstand uncomfortable experiences in White spaces. As a parent, Julia worried her son might face similar inhibitors. While Julia shares her fight with racial isolation in graduate school, Tina explains how this dynamic manifests in the workplace.

Many parents believed that maneuvering the real world requires training beyond academic or career-related skills and hoped to ensure their children would be able to thrive in White spaces with confidence, self-awareness, and knowledge about how to differentiate between the demands of White dominant society and everyday Blackness. An HBCU graduate, corporate executive, wife, and mother of two girls, Tina and her family relocated to Columbus from the Northeast a few years prior to our interview. Given her position at work, Tina quickly learned what it meant to be Black (and woman) in White professional spaces and talked about the desire for her daughter to be better equipped earlier on. She says,

Oftentimes . . . even now in my career being the only one [Black woman] in my environment . . . you . . . sometimes . . . have to justify [your presence]. You have to create this kind of . . . duality or flow [between various social and cultural settings] . . . I wanted her [my daughter] to . . . know [how to do this]. That was important for me, for her to know how to do that. And you have to have a certain level of confidence [in self] to do that.

Like Julia, Tina refers to needing self-confidence in her career, the skill of being able to exercise this strategy within White work environments, and the importance of her daughter’s possession of tools to justify her presence in White space. Tina also highlights how these processes are complicated by gender. Yet, Tina’s emphasis on “a kind of duality” is consistent with literature on the complexities of Black life, identity, and experiences. Just as Lacy (2007) addresses how Black advantaged people shift between spaces to maintain their racial identity and connection to greater Black communities, Tina draws attention to the navigation Black people must do between various sociocultural settings. To successfully do so, Lacy (2007) argues, the Black advantaged draw from their sociocultural toolkits comprised of cultivated forms of cultural capital and knowledge. Building on this idea, Tina’s comments consider the importance of self-confidence as a tool that can be activated in White space.

This is not to say that Black advantaged parents did not also value their children’s experiences within Black spaces. Some parents in my study prioritize children’s maintenance of Black identity for preparation for White spaces. Reginald, Sarah’s husband, articulated the usefulness of strategies to navigate Black and White spaces. Reginald was a professional staff member at a hospital in Atlanta who attended historically White schools throughout K-12 and college. He says,

Too much of anything ain’t good for you. Too much of being on one side ain’t good for you and, too much of being on the other side ain’t good for you. I think you need to experience both types of atmospheres. I think that’s good for them [Black children], because it makes you more well-rounded . . . You just can’t be concentrating and focus[ed] on being around my people [other Black people], when you don’t know how to act [around White people]. You got to have a well-roundedness to you and about yourself.

Reginald’s comments typify the belief that children require abilities to navigate both White and Black worlds—if not multiple versions. Reginald argues that Black children should be able to acclimate to spaces where they are in the minority and where they are not. He also describes adaptation as a tool that one must acquire. Yet, parents posit navigating White space as consequential for children’s futures and thus fixate on children knowing “how to act” with White people. With college on the horizon and work to follow, many parents positioned college as an essential part of this process.

Between College and White Space: The Case of HBCUs

Parents understood that children would inevitably enter White professional spaces as adults and believed this phase of life would require additional tools garnered by development, socialization, and preparation. These conversations come to the forefront when parents and children are in the college selection process. Parents considered how college, as the next step in their children’s preparation for the real world, could help or hinder children’s transition into adulthood. In fact, parents questioned college as a source of sociocultural tools and had ideas about whether attending an HBCU could assist.

Parents, especially those who attended Black colleges or had spouses/family members who graduated from HBCUs, discussed Black college attendance as an opportunity to develop in a community with Black peers and professors. Parents imagined students at HBCUs would benefit from an environment where they can develop sociocultural tools through contact with Black people who know and recognize the awaiting struggle against anti-Blackness. Parents considered how HBCU attendance would develop their children’s self-confidence, self-awareness, and consciousness about Blackness, identity, and pride, enabling them to succeed postgraduation. At the same time, some parents questioned HBCU attendance, whether it could offer what children needed to navigate White professional spaces, and worried if attending Black colleges would impact children’s familiarity and interactions with White sociocultural spaces. Many parents valued connections with peers from “diverse” backgrounds and feared that attending an HBCU would forfeit opportunities to experience the worlds that children would soon enter as professionals. Although these concerns invoke arguments within the racial socialization literature around how Black parents raise their children, conversations with parents demonstrate important considerations about how Black spaces also prepare children for White spaces where racism or racial isolation awaits. Whereas previous studies claim Black parents’ socialization practices are solely matters of insulating their children from racism, I argue the use of racial identity and pride serves a mechanism for readying children for White space.

HBCU Attendance as Sociocultural Preparation

Parents’ reflections about children’s transition to adulthood revealed desires for children to be self-aware and confident as Black adults in the workplace and questions about the appropriateness of HBCUs. They imagined HBCU attendance would allow children to experience cultural support and connections with Black peers and mentors. In these discussions, parents often talked about Black colleges as spaces wherein children could develop confidence, awareness, and consciousness while in a community of people who shared similar experiences and chances. Many parents like Ava, psychologist, adjunct professor, and mother of one in Atlanta, graduated from HBCUs and were now working in White work environments. Having attended an HBCU and transitioned into White professional spaces, Ava uses these experiences to make sense of her daughter’s future:

I think she [my daughter] needs to be seen by her professors, by the deans, people who will . . . mentor her and . . . look after her beyond the academic aspect, because that was something that I got . . . I had . . . dinner at my professors’ houses and . . . you know that’s part of cultivating that relationship so that . . . when I needed something, I had someone to go to. Or, if I was not doing something I was supposed to someone was there to say, “Okay, [Ava] . . . you need to get back in line.”

While Ava considers several benefits of Black college attendance, she also highlights the aspect of being seen, mentored, and supported by Black leadership as a gift “beyond the academic”—one that enhanced her transition into the real world. Ava believed that attending an HBCU offers meaningful support and mentorship and the experience of being seen. Existing scholarship highlights the importance of mentorship as a form of institutional support that benefits students of color, especially at historically White institutions (Brooms and Davis 2017). Parents appreciated HBCU attendance for its ability to fulfill this need and hoped HBCU attendance would be useful both during enrollment and postgraduation. Parents like Ava wanted these opportunities for their children and viewed contact with Black mentors as a critical tool for navigating adulthood.

Parents also hoped that at HBCUs, their children would have mentors who understood firsthand the challenges of being Black in America and could help their children to develop similar competencies and knowledge. Without the opportunity to learn in a college environment with people who understood the demands imposed by anti-Black racism, parents worried their children would be less prepared to enter the next phase of their lives—one that would not only have fewer Black colleagues but also where the consequences for failure are potentially detrimental. Because parents recognized that children’s futures would be spent in White spaces, they believed that knowing and observing Black success were important. For this reason, parents valued the opportunity for children to have Black mentors, support systems, and people they could look up to. Keith, husband of Tanya, mentioned earlier in the text, thought HBCUs offered something special by way of preparation for adulthood. To explain, Keith says,

[F]or me it’s the empowerment piece. I think it is very important for us [Black people] as a culture . . . to have role models, examples [of others] who look like you . . . who may have similar backgrounds that . . . you may have had . . . and one who may be able to even mentor you . . . with HBCUs . . . her [my daughter] diversity is celebrated and not frowned upon. That they [as an institution] would be able to reinstill everything that we have tried to instill in them since early childhood. That . . . *pause* you are equal.

Through his comments, Keith articulates that an HBCU is an opportune space for his daughter to be empowered because Black colleges socialize youth around their identity and potential. Although Keith and his wife did not attend HBCUs, he views Black colleges as places that provide examples of Black people who triumphed and found success. Keith believes that being surrounded by Black professors, staff, and administrators would give his daughter the chance to know that she has the ability and fortitude to do anything in a society that may suggest otherwise. For Keith, being surrounded by Black leaders enhanced one’s sociocultural toolkit and reinforced what he and his wife endeavored to teach their children. Parents like Keith believed that HBCU attendance would strengthen children’s sense of pride, and the feelings of being seen and empowered could be a strategy to persist in White space in the future. Moreover, the opportunity to be surrounded by Black professors and successful members of Black communities would boost children’s confidence and tenacity to weather racial isolation and other racialized experiences postgraduation. Given this, Keith considers the possibility that the sociocultural values and beliefs he worked to instill would be undone. He views HBCU attendance as decreasing this risk.

Tracy also discussed the tension between HBCU and historically White college attendance. Tracy, a mother of one, was a marketing professional living in the Atlanta area. She attended an HBCU in the South near where she grew up. Though ultimately, she graduated from a historically White institution, Tracy discussed how meaningful it would be for her daughter to see and learn alongside professors that looked like her. To explain, she says,

[I]n college, you’re . . . in . . . a . . . phase of trying to identify who you want to be . . . At . . . [that] stage of life . . . [college] has so much influence. So not necessarily saying that a white person . . . a [non-] Black person can’t have that influence [on my child] . . . but it’s just always good to have somebody that may have gone through the same . . . experiences . . . to share and help shape your path.

Because Tracy could speak to the obstacles that her daughter may face as an adult, she hoped that she would be supported and have opportunities to learn with people who share her daughter’s racial and cultural identity and similar life experiences. She hoped that being surrounded by Black professors at an HBCU would impart important and useful sociocultural tools such as resilience, self-confidence, and Black pride, an awareness that she could strategically draw upon throughout adulthood. Tracy’s comments reflect desires for her daughter to develop sociocultural competencies grounded in Black identity and experience affirmation to show up confidently in a society that condemns Blackness (Combs 2022). Like Keith, Tracy subtly questions the cost of attending a historically White institution with fewer Black people and imagines Black children would be better prepared for the workforce with knowledge of Black triumph in their toolkits.

Parental perspectives framing HBCUs as sociocultural sites were especially pronounced among parents with ties to Black colleges as attendees or through extended networks, contributing to existing research on HBCU college choices (Williams 2018). I add to this literature by showing that parents who attended Black colleges hold specific ideas about what HBCUs have to offer in preparation for the future. Although ultimately parents believed children would thrive irrespective of their college pathways, they appreciated the benefits of Black college attendance and challenged the impact of attending historically White schools. Recognizing that children would face the consequences of racism up close, parents wished for them to have self-awareness about their positionality in the world and ability to overcome. Even though parents recognize White space as unavoidable, parents leaned into the idea of Black college attendance as a site of sociocultural preparation.

Hesitations about HBCU Attendance

While some parents considered the value of attending HBCUs in preparation for White spaces, others questioned whether attending a Black college would make the transition more difficult. In fact, parents worried whether Black colleges would limit their children’s exposure and familiarity to White dominant culture—a skill believed to be critical for success in White space and the transition into work. Such considerations add deeper complexity to parental fears about children’s transition into “the real world.” Parents were anxious about whether HBCU attendance might restrict contact with White peers and compromise children’s ability to engage with colleagues in the future. Comfort in connecting to Whiteness was seen as a valuable resource to children’s developing sociocultural toolkits.

While contemplating their children’s college options, parents also reveal anxieties about how the previous spaces (and people) their children encounter matter later in life. Kenneth, a father of two girls, articulated this point. Kenneth was a graduate of an HBCU and an attorney who relocated to Columbus for law school after attending college in the South. Typically, children with connections to HBCUs are more likely to attend Black colleges (Johnson 2017). Kenneth reflected fondly on his multigenerational connections to HBCUs. Yet, when I asked him about his daughter attending a Black college, Kenneth says, “. . . if she were to go to an HBCU . . . to transition back into . . . the world will bite . . . It’s [HBCU attendance] a blessing and a curse. . . ” Continuing, he explains,

It’s interesting . . . because . . . [at an HBCU] you could matriculate . . . not that it’s carefree . . . but a lot of the crap that you might [have to experience you might] not have to . . . [at a school] where you’re in the minority . . . [As a student at an HBCU] your sole focus can be about academics . . . It’s a blessing from the standpoint that you’re so focused you don’t have to worry about the silliness that you’ll encounter . . . in the workplace . . . but it’s a curse because you don’t have to deal with things that you will see every day. And it may come as a shock and/or surprise when you have these things constantly in your face.

Whereas existing literature on experiences of culture shock has largely focused on educational settings, parents like Kenneth extend this phenomenon to the workplace (Jack 2019). His comments also reflect research on the tensions between the benefits of HBCUs while children are enrolled and fears about the consequence of HBCUs in the workplace in the future—a dilemma shaped by race and racism at the individual and institutional levels (Faulk 2023). Kenneth acknowledges the temporary safety of a Black college versus a historically White campus but also sees sociocultural disadvantages to avoiding the “things you will see every day.” In contrast to the benefits of HBCUs offered by Keith and Tracy, Kenneth considers the consequences of Black college attendance. He highlights a conflict over whether early exposure to White spaces, by choosing not to attend HBCUs, adds an awareness of White dominant norms to children’s sociocultural toolkits. Kenneth hopes his daughter, having acquired this awareness, might enter the real world with greater ease and less “shock.” Anthony Abraham Jack (2019) raises a similar class argument, but Kenneth frames this process as one being also influenced by race.

Other parents shared Kenneth’s concerns about whether an HBCU could offer children the chance to develop familiarity and comfort while interacting with White culture and people. Some parents like Theresa, a mother in Columbus, were more explicit about the perceived limitations of attending an HBCU. Theresa, a human resource professional and mother of two sons, identifies the advantages of attending “a more diverse school” and by default the anticipated pitfalls of HBCU attendance. Unlike Kenneth, Theresa did not attend a Black college. When it came to her sons’ collegiate and professional journeys, she says,

I want them to have that network with other students . . . Unfortunately sometimes [Black] people when they get into the real world . . . the majority of . . . people are not going to be like them . . . I think going to a more diverse school gives them the opportunity to . . . establish . . . relationships [with non-Black people]

Revisiting ideas about what Black children need to survive in the White world and at work, parents like Theresa present fears about the realities of not having other people that look like you in “your network.” While many parents failed to go into detail about the power of “relationships” with White people, they were clear about the fact that such experiences added value. From this perspective, children with positive relationships with White peers could be prepared for the consequences of White spaces, where “people are not going to be like them.” Theresa also introduces a tension around whether children would be familiar and comfortable enough in White spaces were it not for previous encounters with Whiteness and dominant culture. Theresa frames the possibility of being unprepared as a deficit in the workplace. In her mind, earlier experiences in White spaces were understood as opportunities to aid children as adults. Theresa specifically connects the experiences that her children may have as college students with White peers to her sons’ ability to develop relationships with others as an adult. Like other parents, Theresa recognizes that her child will likely enter spaces and work environments with few Black colleagues. However, she also imagines historically White schools as places where children could develop the tools to become better acclimated to this reality.

Yet, like many parents braving college selection with their children, it was not a clear choice. Instead, parents’ perspectives revealed a process of balancing the outcomes of different pathways. Much like other choices, parents’ comments illustrate a series of dilemmas weighed down by the perceived pros and cons of HBCU attendance. Contrasting Black spaces and White spaces, Reginald, an Atlanta father mentioned previously, says,

I just think that the better opportunity is you need to be able, and not to say that you couldn’t interact if you wasn’t [used to being in a predominately white space], but I do know that looking at it all and my perception of it. . .when you’re around that type of environment [a white environment] you can adapt a little bit more

Parents like Reginald considered how future engagement in White spaces could be cultivated with less effort and more “adapting.” Much like parents who understood Black colleges as beneficial to sociocultural tools rooted in Black identity, parents who were hesitant about HBCUs recognized the value of encounters with White space as a source for acquiring White dominant sociocultural resources. Experiential knowledge and observations of the norms and behaviors evident in White space was understood as useful. While parents did not detail what “adapting” to their environments entailed, their emphasis on Black people’s use of White sociocultural tools align with documented scholarship on parental messages around behavior and mannerisms (Leath and Mims 2023; Turner 2020). While parents avoided reference to respectability or “acting white” (e.g., the “use language or ways of speaking; display of attitudes behaviors, or preferences; or engagement in activities considered white cultural norms”), their comments described environments that required an engagement with Whiteness as a tool of interaction (Golann 2021; Tyson, Darity, and Castellino 2005:583).

Ultimately, parents’ concerns about how children would fare as adults connect to their perceptions of the benefits and consequences of HBCU attendance, as parents see colleges as spaces that expose children to elements of the professional world and its demands. Parents’ hesitations about HBCUs rely on ideas about the importance of becoming familiar with White peers and culture. Some parents imagined earlier contact with Whiteness would make the transition from college to work smoother. Ultimately, parents’ expectations about children’s experiences in professional spaces and adulthood coupled with beliefs about the acumen to survive informs parents’ questions about if HBCUs are the best options for their children.

Last, parents across geographical location and college pathways highlight potential consequences of attending Black colleges. Because of shared anxieties about children’s experience in White space as adults, parents in Columbus and Atlanta alike acknowledge the dilemmas embedded in HBCU choices. Despite the appreciation that some parents have for Black colleges and their ability to aid their children, some also anticipate the limitations of HBCUs to expose their children to Whiteness.