In today's climate, Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) has been unfairly misconstrued as a system that provides undeserved advantages to Black and Brown individuals rather than its true purpose — creating opportunities for qualified women, veterans, underrepresented minorities, the LGBTQ community and people with disabilities who have historically been excluded from certain spaces.

As a result, talented Black and Brown students now face an unfair burden: the need to constantly prove they belong. This was our daughter Corinne’s experience, which began when a white classmate casually remarked, out of "innocent ignorance," that her father had told her: "I need to do better than you in school, so you don’t take my spot at the University of Michigan."

Corinne’s Academic Excellence

For context, Corinne has always been an exceptional student. She scored a 27 on the ACT — in seventh grade. She earned a perfect score on the entrance exam for one of Chicago Public Schools' most selective and prestigious academic programs — Whitney Young Magnet School's Academic Center.

Coming from a family of educators, she has always understood that "education is the passport to the future." Yet, her classmate’s comment lingered. When she asked us, “What does she mean by saying I would take her spot?” we knew this was a moment that required an honest conversation.

The Reality of the “Burden of Proof”

My father, who has always been fiercely protective of his grandchildren, once told me when Corinne was just three or four years old: "Don’t let anything shake her confidence — I see something special in her." So, when she came to us with that question, we explained that ignorance and racism often lead people to look for scapegoats when things don’t go their way.

To prove a point, we looked up the University of Michigan’s student demographics. Black students made up just over 4 percent of the 53,000 enrolled — approximately 2,100 students. I pointed out how flawed the logic was: rather than questioning the 51,000+ other students, including legacy admissions and other privileged pathways, some people would rather focus on that small group and blame them.

We told her to continue excelling, to blaze a trail, and to take up space so that those who come after her wouldn’t have to endure the same doubts.

Choosing the Right College Environment

By Corinne’s senior year of high school, her stellar academic record spoke for itself: a 4.5 weighted GPA, a 33 on the ACT (achieved as a sophomore, with COVID preventing a retake to reach her goal of a perfect 36), a schedule filled with AP courses, to go with numerous academic honors, leadership roles as Dance Team Captain and Varsity Tennis player, extensive community service, all while working as a Math tutor to earn money.

Teachers, counselors, family, and friends assumed she would be headed to an Ivy League school, or maybe Stanford or Duke. And while she knew she was more than qualified to get accepted and attend any of those institutions, she also recognized that she wanted a college experience where she wouldn’t have to constantly defend her “Black girl magic” or the burden to prove she belonged.

Instead, she chose Spelman College, her mother and sister’s alma mater, the nation’s top-ranked Historically Black College and University (HBCU) and one of the best liberal arts institutions in the country. She believed it was the best place to experience academic rigor without the burden of doubt — where she would be judged by the content of her character.

Upon acceptance, she was named a Presidential Scholar, one of just five students handpicked from the top 20 most outstanding applicants by the college president.

A Future Without Limits

Next month, Corinne will graduate Summa Cum Laude with a degree in Economics, ready to step into the world with her confidence intact and prepared to take on new academic and professional challenges.

She is proof that when students are given the freedom to excel without unjust scrutiny, they thrive. And the spaces they enter are all the better for it.

Kevin Jamal Salter is an experienced product manager and financial services professional based in Chicago. A Morehouse College graduate, proud husband and father of two, committed to creating opportunities for talented individuals who lack access through awareness and mentoring.