Abstract
Predominately White institutions of higher education are academic environments deeply entrenched in White cultural ideologies. Understanding how Black college students cope with this reality and the role that college campuses play in promoting inclusive and equitable environments is imperative. Using White institutional space as a theoretical framework, we explored how Black students enrolled in a predominantly White institution construct meaning of, cope with, and resist their everyday experiences. The student's normative encounters with Whiteness made them feel invisible and excluded. They responded to and countered the culture of Whiteness on their campus through strategies that resisted and reproduced racism. Findings highlight the need for campus administrators to understand the critical role of dismantling Whiteness when addressing the racial climate of their institution.
Introduction
In the United States, predominately White institutions (PWIs) of higher education are academic environments deeply entrenched in White cultural ideologies anchored by historical and contemporary exclusionary practices (Duran et al., 2022). For students from socially marginalized backgrounds, navigating a PWI can be physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting (Koo, 2021; Telles & Mitchell, 2018)—a particularly salient and nuanced reality for Black students (Corbin et al., 2018; Lewis et al., 2025; Morales, 2021; Smith et al., 2007). In tandem with the normative stressors most college students face, Black students also must contend with navigating campus racial climates permeated with anti-Black racism (Duran et al., 2022). Black students enrolled in PWIs are burdened with overcoming assumptions of criminality and intellectual inferiority while contending with experiences of surveillance due to hypervisibility from their White peers, faculty, and staff (Griffith et al., 2019). Although an interdisciplinary body of work has demonstrated how the campus environment impacts Black students’ educational experiences (Griffith et al., 2019; Harper & Hurtado, 2007; Smith et al., 2007), Whiteness remains a central but understudied research theme—especially work that highlights the material and psychological consequences of Whiteness on the lives of college students of color (Cabrera et al., 2017; Tevis et al., 2023).
Whiteness is a multifaceted, pervasive, and deeply entrenched historical element of the campus racial climates of PWIs (Briscoe & Jones, 2022; Duran et al., 2022). Whiteness is a socially constructed racial identity that also functions as an ideology, system, and social-historical form of privilege and group position (with accompanying group interests) that upholds White dominance and oppresses persons of color. Furthermore, Whiteness encompasses “overt and subliminal socialization processes and practices, power structures, laws, privileges, and life experiences that favor the White racial group over all others” (Helms, 2017, p. 718). As such, Whiteness imbues group members (perceived as White) with the power to assert superiority and control over others perceived as non-White (and subhuman) through dominant practices, policies, and ideologies (Diamond & Gomez, 2023; Lewis et al., 2025; Ray, 2019). In PWIs, Whiteness is reproduced through the curriculum, core university requirements, and pedagogies that canonize White (often male) producers of knowledge—hallmarks of a White institutional space (environments where Whiteness is structurally embedded, culturally normalized, and numerically dominant) (Moore, 2008; Shahjahan et al., 2022). PWIs also represent institutional spaces where power and decision making are overwhelmingly concentrated among White administrators and reactionary (rather than proactive) approaches to responding to racist campus incidents are often the norm (Beatty & Boettcher, 2019; Cole & Harper, 2017). Unquestioned Whiteness creates an environment where both the presence and impact of racism are ignored, minimized, or rationalized as an aberration as opposed to a rampant systemic concern (Cabrera et al., 2017). Navigating Whiteness and overt/covert forms of racism can be an everyday challenge for Black students that depletes their mental health, limits their agency, and obstructs them from achieving the quality of life that is afforded to their White counterparts. This reality, occurring in tandem with the prevailing racial climate of PWIs nationwide, calls for targeted research that investigates how Black students make meaning of and cope with Whiteness, particularly within the framework of White institutional space.
White institutional space is a framework that helps elucidate how and why social institutions reproduce Whiteness and White supremacy (Moore, 2008). Using White institutional space as a theoretical framework, we explored the following research questions: (a) How do Black students at a Midwestern PWI make sense of and navigate their educational environment? and (b) In what ways do Black students’ narratives point to institutional policies, practices, and (in)actions that exemplify a White institutional space? The students lived experiences revealed that institutional structures, along with a culture of administrative indifference, inaction, and institutional logics that privileges White student interests over those of students of color, generate significant emotional and psychological harm. Locating the students’ experiences and knowledge within the context of a White institutional space allowed us to move beyond the traditional adaptive/maladaptive coping strategies framework to (a) challenge and disrupt deficit-based and Eurocentric paradigms that often position White lived experiences as the normative standard, (b) focus on the oppressive systems, structures, and practices their university promotes, and (c) gain an in-depth understanding of how navigating a White institutional space—from the perspective of students whose voices are often silenced—can produce significant harm. Given the elimination of race-conscious affirmative action and the ongoing dismantling and overt opposition to diversity, equity, and inclusion–related programs in higher education throughout the United States, we sought to center the lived experiences of Black students to inform the development of institutional policies and practices that transform the WIS that unduly disadvantaged them.
Coping with Campus Racism: The Black Student Experience
The campus racial climate encompasses the overall racial environment at a college or university, including the practices, behaviors, and attitudes of school administrators, faculty, staff, and students related to issues of race, racism, and discrimination (Solorzano et al., 2000). Since its inception, research investigating the experiences of Black students enrolled in PWIs has sought to address the overt acts of racism and racial discrimination commonplace within these environments (Edgert, 1994; Feagin & Sikes, 1995; Hurtado, 1992). Although the overall terrain of PWIs has transformed since the inception of this line of inquiry, research exploring how the campus environment impacts Black students’ educational experiences continues to demonstrate that significant inequities persist within these environments that adversely impact their mental/physical health and overall quality of life (Telles & Mitchell, 2018). Black students, in comparison with their White peers, are tasked with navigating a campus racial climate replete with campus norms that pathologize cultural differences, question their academic abilities, and communicate that they do not belong. The environmental invalidations Black students encounter—and may internalize—implicitly signal that their presence on campus is unwelcome or not normal (Mills et al., 2023), often leading to feelings of rejection, disconnection, and self-doubt (Telles & Mitchell, 2018). It is imperative to understand how Black college students cope with and navigate racially hostile educational environments and to recognize the pivotal role that college campuses play in fostering inclusive and equitable spaces.
Drawing from psychological and sociological research, coping is defined as the cognitive and behavioral strategies an individual uses to manage, lessen, or withstand encounters that are experienced as stressful (Lazarus & Folkman, 1984). Coping strategies are further divided into two major dimensions: (a) emotion-focused strategies and (b) problem-focused strategies (Folkman & Lazarus, 1980). Emotion-focused coping strategies generally aim to regulate one's emotions in response to stressful situations, circumstances, or environments. Emotion-focused behaviors include actions such as seeking professional help or “talking it out” as a form of emotional support with members of one's social network (e.g., family, friends, and peers), engaging in prayer or meditation, and/or reappraising or altering one's emotional response to the source of stress (Carr & Umberson, 2013; Thoits, 2009). Less effective emotion-focused coping strategies include avoidant (or maladaptive) behaviors that often manifest through methods such as denial/minimization of one's experience or distraction (Polanco-Roman et al., 2016). Black students enrolled in PWIs use isolated and disengaged coping strategies such as detachment, internalization, and self-blame to manage psychological distress associated with the overlap of academic difficulties, racism, and discrimination. A growing body of knowledge also has established how coping behaviors, such as binge drinking and alcohol use, are connected to mental health concerns among Black college students, with a sizable portion of this literature revealing a higher prevalence of binge drinking and alcohol abuse among students of color who are enrolled in a PWI (Barry et al., 2017). Other common coping strategies include downplaying, constraining, or suppressing one's outward emotional reactions to avoid further stereotyping (e.g., overly emotional and/or angry Black woman or violent and/or out-of-control Black men) (Evans & Moore, 2015; Jackson, 2018; Moore, 2008). Evans and Moore (2015) have referred to this type of stereotype management as a form of emotional labor—an invisible emotional burden often required of persons of color in WISs—that their White peers are not expected to perform.
Problem-focused (adaptive) coping strategies are centered on obtaining information on which to act and then “mobiliz[ing] actions for the purpose of changing the reality of the troubled person–environment relationship” (Lazarus, 2012, p. 207). In this context, problem-focused coping involves actions aimed at managing, avoiding, or eliminating the source of stress. This can be achieved either by altering oneself or by changing the environment. Based on research in higher education, Black college students frequently encounter racist stereotypes and/or microaggressions during their interactions with students and faculty on campus. Black students often attempt to dispel or challenge anti-Black stereotypes and racism that attack the worth, character, and intelligence of Black people by codeswitching (i.e., consciously behaving in ways that are non-stereotypical or “non-Black”) or proving their White student peers, faculty, and/or the administration wrong through high academic achievement (e.g., working twice as hard) and increased visibility (i.e., campus leadership) (Fries-Britt & Griffin, 2007). We refer to the above constellation of problem-focused coping strategies as impression management—borrowing a term from Erving Goffman (1959)—because the goal of these strategies is to take planful steps to manage or influence the impressions of others in social interactions (i.e., how others perceive us, especially if we are members of a stigmatized or stereotyped group) through some type of behavior modification. This coping pattern also closely aligns with the concept of cognitive labor—the cognitive or mental effort associated with understanding, analyzing, and responding to racialized interactions. Using the WIS framework as their guide, Evans and Feagin (2015) described cognitive labor as “a form of self-protection, [involving] the process of thinking through racialized interactions, including those yet to occur” (p. 893). This involves both anticipating and strategizing ways to avoid or mitigate one's exposure to racial stereotypes and/or the potentially harmful or stressful consequences of discrimination (Evans & Feagin, 2015). Evans and Feagin (2015) identified cognitive labor as a distinct mental and psychological burden experienced by Black Americans in response to the trauma of navigating racialized environments where highly publicized events of police violence against unarmed Black men are common. This concept, however, has yet to be applied to the everyday experiences of Black undergraduate students as they navigate everyday racism within PWIs.
Although the coping literature often has viewed emotion and problem-focused approaches as distinct, individuals frequently use these coping styles simultaneously or interchangeably as they navigate complex and stressful situations and environments. Coping—in this sense—represents a dynamic process whereby individuals may shift between and/or employ multiple coping strategies concurrently to effectively mitigate the ongoing demands of stressful circumstances and environments (Lazarus, 2012). In the higher education literature, Black students often use coping styles that do not fit neatly in an emotion versus problem-focused dichotomy—drawing from their emotional or intrapersonal psychosocial resources (i.e., racial pride/identity, self-esteem, self-worth, mastery, and resilience) in a problem-focused manner to strategically counteract, mitigate, or reappraise the harmful effects of racism and anti-Blackness at PWIs (Mills et al., 2023). In sum, there is an extensive body of knowledge that has investigated how Black students navigate and cope with the campus racial climate of PWIs. However, there is a dearth of knowledge that interrogates Whiteness and explores how Whiteness influences how Black students engage and cope with their campus environment. Considering these gaps, we drew on the framework of WIS to explicitly interrogate how Whiteness shapes how Black students make meaning of their campus environment and navigate challenges. We also explored how these institutional spaces can inflict harm and injury on Black students, with effects that may reverberate throughout their lives.
Theoretical Framework: White Institutional Space
Theorized by Wendy Leo Moore (2008), White institutional space is a theoretical framework that exposes how and why social institutions, such as PWIs of higher education, reproduce racial social structures that sustain White supremacy through the reification of White power systems, privilege, and the logics of domination (Miller, 2022). WISs operate by funneling material and ideological resources disproportionately to Whites—in this case White faculty, staff, and students (Moore, 2020). Contemporary manifestations of a WIS were created through deliberate and explicitly racist processes facilitated by racial exclusion. Historically, for example, colleges and universities throughout the country deliberately barred Black students from attending White institutes of higher education. As a result of this exclusion, the founding principles and values of these places of higher learning centered on the institutional logic, values, and norms of White power and privilege that rely “on the active and pervasive operation of anti-Black attitudes and practices” (Hamilton & Ture, 1992, p. 2).
Although PWIs across the country shifted away from more overt forms of racial exclusion (i.e., exclusively admitting White students), post–civil rights era patterns of racial inequality continue to persist in a contemporary sense through more covert or de facto means, including unequal incorporation, differential access, and unfair treatment (Ray, 2019). In this way, WIS represents a contemporary mechanism by which White power and privilege are produced, reproduced, and sustained in less visible yet deeply embedded ways. In general, there are four components of WIS, including (a) historical exclusion of people of color from access to power and from positions of power, (b) development and assertion of White-centered logics (e.g., Whiteness as normal, neutral, the default or center, and credential) that form the basis of institutional norms, values, policies, and practices and accompanying ideologies (e.g., meritocracy, abstract liberalism, color-blind ideologies, and campus racism as an aberration), (c) historical development of a curriculum based on a White or Eurocentric racial frame, and (d) other various mechanisms that facilitate the reproduction of White privilege and power by benefiting White students and disadvantaging students of color (e.g., racialized distribution of power, policies/practices, and in(actions); hidden signifiers of White power and privilege in the built environment; and racialized forms of invisible labor) (Evans & Moore, 2015; Moore, 2020).
White-centered logics or what Feagin (2013) called a white racial frame is an overarching worldview that structures how Whites view and interpret the social systems that make up modern society (Feagin, 2013). White racial frames are comprised of dominant racial stereotypes, interpretive concepts, emotions, and inclinations to discriminatory action (Feagin, 2013). Due to the influence of colorblind racism and ideologies of equal opportunity (e.g., abstract liberalism and absence of systemic racism), the racialized structures, practices, and ideologies embedded in WISs are often rendered elusive and normalized. These spaces often promote values such as treating everyone the same, fairness, and meritocracy while simultaneously operating under an unspoken assumption that the default student is White, middle class, cisgender, and straight. Eduardo Bonilla-Silva (2021) also added that Black college students often face the dual indignity of everyday racism and dismissive institutional ideologies and narratives that deny or minimize their experiences, concerns, and voices regarding how race and racism shape their college experience. Perhaps as important, students of color often view university diversity and inclusion initiatives and institutional responses to racism on campus as ineffective, superficial, and largely benefiting White students— shaping their interpretation of institutional support (care) and sense of belonging (Lewis & Shah, 2021).
Although it is beyond the scope of this study to critically study all components of the WIS framework, we focus on two primary themes. The first theme addresses how White-centered logics—such as treating Whiteness as normal, neutral, or the default—underpin institutional norms, values, policies, and practices. These logics are reinforced by ideologies that prioritize the interests of White students over students of color while minimizing the ongoing significance of race and/or systemic racism as a campus concern. The second theme involves an examination of the mechanisms that facilitate the reproduction of White privilege and power that function to benefit White students and disadvantage students of color (e.g., policies/practices and in(actions) and racialized forms of invisible labor).
We aim to explore (a) how Black students at Central Midwest University make sense of and navigate their educational environment and (b) how their narratives point to institutional policies, practices, and (in)actions that exemplify a WIS. We intend to illustrate, through our analysis of the focus group data and engagement with the WIS framework, how the university's policies, practices, and (in)actions function to both reify White privilege and reproduce racial inequality by normalizing unquestioned Whiteness on campus, delegitimizing Black students’ experiences and mental health costs as they cope with, negotiate, and resist Whiteness and racism on campus. Consequently, given the lack of support and direct intervention from school administration and leadership in our study, Black students are left to navigate and cope with the dehumanizing institutional culture of Whiteness on their own.
Methods
The data analyzed in this article were drawn from a qualitative study that explored how a PWI operates as a site of mental health promotion. Guided by a phenomenological approach, the overarching aim of the larger study was to better understand the structural and institutional changes needed to meet the mental health needs of Black students. Qualitative inquiries grounded within a phenomenological approach seek to understand the meaning and significance of a social phenomenon through the in-depth exploration of lived experiences. Engaging with this research design uniquely positioned us to be able to uncover and describe how Black students make meaning of a WIS and how they experience, cope with, and navigate their educational environment. This research is a secondary analysis of the larger phenomenological study.
Setting and Timeline of Student Unrest
This study was conducted at Central Midwest University (CMU), a predominantly White flagship university located in the Midwest. CMU was established around the mid-19th century by a university “father” whose wealth—and ability to establish the institution—derived directly from slave ownership. The early growth and operation of CMU were further supported by other prominent slave owners, whose legacies remain deeply embedded throughout the campus landscape in the form of building names, street names, well-preserved portraits, and statues. Enslaved Africans played an instrumental role in the construction and eventual maintenance (i.e., being contracted as custodians or servants) of CMU until the abolition of slavery. During early integration (1930s), a Black student secured a Supreme Court decision affirming their right to attend CMU's law school but had later “disappeared” prior to the start of the semester, never to be heard from again. The history of CMU has significantly shaped the institution's current campus racial climate. Black students and student organizations have long been the targets of racially hostile acts, reflecting both individual prejudice and structural exclusion. The reverberating effects of these historical and contemporary actions have resulted in campus student unrest, which persists today. This context provided the backdrop of our study and informed many of the student focus group discussions.
Emerging from the police killings of Mike Brown (Ferguson, Missouri) and Tamir Rice (Cleveland, Ohio) in two Midwestern cities, long-standing student concerns about racial hostility, a negative campus climate, and institutional inaction to overt displays of racism, the 2015–16 student-led protest at CMU shaped the institutional climate in notable ways. Early tension (fall 2014) surfaced after a student leader publicly shared an experience of being subjected to racial slurs on or near campus, prompting renewed calls for the university to address everyday discrimination. Over the fall 2014 academic semester, additional incidents—including a racially charged confrontation involving a student organization and the discovery of a hate symbol in a residence hall—deepened student perceptions that the campus climate was worsening. By midsemester, a coalition of student activists organized a series of demonstrations, with one prominent action occurring during a major institutional celebration, where protesters attempted to publicly confront senior administrators about the perceived lack of accountability. Frustration escalated as students reported feeling unheard despite repeated dialogues and petitions. In early November, a graduate student initiated a hunger strike to draw attention to the urgency of the situation, stating the action would continue until there was demonstrable administrative change. The hunger strike galvanized additional groups across campus, including faculty, staff, and student organizations. Momentum surged when members of an athletic team announced they would not participate in team activities until the situation was resolved (spring 2015). These strategic actions culminated when CMU's top leaders stepped down—marking a pivotal moment in which sustained, student-led collective action reshaped campus governance and intensified national conversations about racial climate, accountability, and institutional responsibility.
Analysis of the post-2015 period indicates that racial hostility and climate concerns persisted at CMU despite the institution's immediate administrative responses. A 2016 campus-climate survey, for example, reported that only about two thirds of campus members felt comfortable on campus, a proportion indicative of ongoing perceptions of racialized exclusion. Accounts documented in subsequent reporting between 2016 and 2018 further illustrate this persistent climate, noting continued incidents of overt racial harassment alongside more indirect manifestations of racial marginalization, such as unresolved bias incidents and inconsistent institutional follow-through. Together these forms of evidence demonstrate that the protests did not meaningfully disrupt the racialized dynamics shaping Black students’ daily experiences; instead, they highlight the enduring nature of the structural and cultural conditions that maintained a hostile racial climate even in the years following heightened institutional scrutiny. As a result, Black students experienced a persistent gap between the university's public rhetoric of inclusion and the lived realities of racialized hostility, further highlighting CMU's long-standing character as a White-dominated institutional space. We clarify this timeline to illuminate the institution's social context and to underscore that some participants are reflecting on events they personally experienced as first-year students (academic year 2015–16) as well as on the current campus environment (2018–19), where progress toward structural change has been slow and troubling.
Participants
Self-identified Black or African American undergraduate students 18 years of age or older were recruited to participate in the focus groups. At the time of data collection, student demographics mirrored state racial demographics, with Black student enrollment comprising 7% of the CMU student population (in comparison with the 77% White student population). We conducted a total of six focus groups (n = 46 students). Purposive and convenience sampling methods were employed to recruit focus group participants. Participants were recruited with the assistance of faculty and staff who disseminated recruitment information via departmental and student organization listservs. We adhered to qualitative principles of data saturation and informational power to ensure that we appropriately explored the study aims (Malterud et al., 2016). Information power is a pragmatic and recursive model used to determine an appropriate sample within qualitative research. Malterud et al. (2016) identified five items that influence the information power of a sample: (a) study aim, (b) sample specificity, (c) use of established theory, (d) analysis strategy, and (e) quality of dialogue. Initially, our goal was to recruit only 20 students (primary health science majors). However, we recognized that focusing on students from a single college would limit our ability to explore a range of perspectives. As a result, midway through our study, we increased our recruitment goal (n = 45) and expanded our recruitment efforts to include Black students across the university until we met data saturation and achieved sufficient informational power. Students who fit the eligibility criteria were invited to participate in the study regardless of the college (e.g., College of Public Health or College of Humanities) in which their major was housed. Additional recruitment efforts included reaching out to Black sororities and fraternities and snowball sampling to ensure that we met data saturation and achieved sufficient informational power with the inclusion of Black students across the university. Participants ranged in age from 18 to 24 years and identified as either Black/African American, biracial, or African (second generation). Cisgender Black women comprised 65% of the sample, and health sciences was the predominant major, followed by public health and psychology. Additional participant demographic data can be found in Table 1.
Data Collection
The university's institutional review board approved this study. All focus group data were collected in the spring semester of 2019. Each focus group was conducted in a private office space and consisted of six to 10 students. On arrival, students were asked to complete a short demographic survey and sign a consent form before the focus group could begin. The first author and an undergraduate research assistant facilitated each focus group. Focus groups were the selected method of data collection because they can foster a supportive and comfortable climate that eases participants into sharing personal feelings and lived experiences. Rich communal data can be collected within focus groups given this method's inherently collective nature, allowing participants to unify their voices and consequently decenter the authority of the researcher (Morse et al., 2016). Each focus group was audio recorded and ranged from 45 minutes to 1 hour and 30 minutes in length. Pseudonyms were used during the data-collection and analysis process to protect the identity of the students. Students were compensated for their time with a $15 cash incentive.
A semi-structured focus group facilitation guide was used to conduct the focus groups. The facilitation guide consisted of three sections, each targeting a different dimension of the students’ lived experience. The first section of the interview guide explored students’ everyday experiences with and understandings of race, racism, and Whiteness at CMU. Questions such as, “What does racism look like on this campus?”“How do you think Black people are viewed on this campus?” and “What does the term Whiteness mean to you?” were included in this section. The second section consisted of several questions aimed at exploring student perceptions of mental health. The research team (i.e., the first author and undergraduate research assistant) asked questions such as, “What aspects of your environment cause you the most harm?”“What are your mental health needs as a Black student at CMU?” and “How do you think being in a predominately White environment impacts your mental health?” The third section explored mental health promotion on campus. Questions such as, “What are your perceptions of campus mental health facilities?”“How do you think Whiteness shapes how CMU approaches mental health promotion?” and “What would mental health resources for Black students at CMU look like?” were used to gauge the students’ perceptions. The focus groups were not structured (i.e., by major, fraternity or sorority affiliation, etc.) to allow for a diversity of thought and experience.
Data Analysis
Thematic analysis, with WIS as a theoretical framework, guided data analysis. Engaging in thematic analysis gave us the tools to conduct an in-depth analysis as we interpreted the data with detailed descriptions and contextual details (Braun & Clarke, 2014). Adhering to the phases of thematic analysis, the first author began data analysis by immersing herself in the data. The first author read through each transcribed focus group while also engaging in memoing to ensure that she had a strong comprehension of the data. Writing memos after reading each transcript aided in establishing trustworthiness (i.e., bracketing). The second phase of data analysis consisted of open coding or “breaking down, examining, comparing, and conceptualizing the data” (Corbin & Strauss, 1990, p. 61). This phase enabled the first author to compile and collate a list of provisional codes identified across the data. The third phase of coding involved using constant comparisons to aid in strengthening and organizing the themes. This step of data analysis helped the first author strengthen and identify relationships within the themes and subthemes by comparing them with newer themes discovered within the data. The fourth phase of data analysis involved revisiting the theoretical framework and using it as an analytic tool to identify relationships between the students’ lived experiences, perceptions of Whiteness, and their impact on their well-being. Engaging with WIS as an analytic tool was integral to the first author's interrogation of the relationship between racism and Whiteness. Moreover, WIS helped uncover the overt and covert ways in which racism and Whiteness were entrenched at CMU and in the lived experiences of Black students. Preliminary codes such as “Making a White Institutional Space,”“Whiteness and Exclusion,” and “Property in a White Institutional Space” emerged during this phase of data analysis.
Additionally, when analyzing the data, we also noticed coping mechanisms emerge across several focus groups. Repeating the initial steps of our thematic analysis approach, we coded coping mechanisms as the cognitive and behavioral strategies students described using to manage, lessen, or withstand racially stressful encounters (Lazarus, 2012; Lazarus & Folkman, 1984). We began with inductive, line-by-line coding of students’ narratives, identifying segments in which they described their responses to a campus climate frequently perceived as racially hostile. Codes were generated based on how students described their navigation of racial stereotypes, microaggressions, and the broader culture of Whiteness that shaped their experiences at CMU. Through an iterative process, these initial codes were refined, compared, and organized into a higher-order coding typologies that captured patterned responses across participants while preserving variation in coping strategies. This process culminated in the development of an overarching theme, “Cognitive Labor and Impression Management in a White Institutional Space: Respectability Politics and Assertion,” with two subthemes—“Respectability Politics: Proving that You Belong” and “Assertion: Making Your Presence Felt and Your Voice Heard”—that reflect how students strategically navigated visibility, belonging, and resistance within a racialized campus environment. Throughout, coding was treated as an interpretive practice, situating students’ coping not merely as individual behaviors but as adaptive responses to persistent racialized stressors within the PWI context. The final phase of data analysis consisted of selective coding, in which the first author narrowed down the themes, isolated a sample of the quotes that illustrate how WIS is revealed in the students’ narratives, and investigated potential theoretical relationships between concepts in the data.
Positionality and Trustworthiness
The research team for this study consisted of three Black cisgender women (one faculty member, one doctoral student, and one undergraduate student). As a current faculty member and graduate of predominately White institutions of higher education, the first author engaged in multiple trustworthiness techniques to remain cognizant of how her lived experiences shaped how she viewed and navigated the research project. The third author (counseling psychology) and undergraduate research assistant (health sciences; not listed) were enrolled at CMU during the occurrence of the institution's most tumultuous and nationally recognized student protest. Their collective experiences were integral in helping comprehend, critique, and address how Whiteness and intersecting forms of oppression were embedded and maintained at CMU. The second author (Black cisgender male) is a faculty member at a private university located in the Midwest. He made significant contributions to writing and revising the manuscript because he engaged in multiple sessions of peer debriefing.
Steps to ensure the trustworthiness of the data were completed during the data-analysis process to ensure that the first author's voice did not dominate the students’ voices and lived realities. The first author engaged in critical reflexivity, bracketing, and peer debriefing review to ensure trustworthiness. Critical reflexivity enabled the first author to be in tune with the power imbalances inherent within any form of research. Continuously engaging with critical reflexivity ensured that she centered the voices of the students, not her own, as she evaluated how our social identities and status intersected and influenced how she navigated through the phases of a research project. She wrote analytic memos throughout data collection and analysis to help center the participants’ narratives and actively confront unconscious assumptions (bracket researcher biases). Bracketing, through the creation of analytic memos and peer debriefing, helped her interrogate the assumptions associated with her subjectivity and provided safeguards against imposing personal beliefs and interests into the data-analysis process (Mao et al., 2016). For example, given that the first author was a graduate of multiple PWIs, she felt that it was important to acknowledge that the experiences of Black students enrolled in a PWI are not a monolith and to bracket thoughts that questioned why the students decided to, or not, openly challenge racist campus occurrences. That is, she wanted to keep her positionality as a faculty member at the forefront, which affords her a set of privileges and agency not provided to Black students. For example, bracketing came into play within the development of the “Making a White Institutional Space” theme. While writing an analytic memo, the first author bracketed assumptions surrounding students’ willingness, or lack thereof, to openly challenge (i.e., protest again) CMU's lack of structural change. She found it appropriate to bracket this assumption and engage in peer debriefing (e.g., that students were hesitant to protest given the backlash Black students faced during their involvement in the 2015–16 student protests at CMU) to center the participants, not her own, experiential knowledge. Lastly, peer debriefing with the second author (not embedded in the data-collection process) who has expertise in racism and mental health provided critical and constructive feedback that deepened the engagement with the theoretical framework and subsequently expanded the development of analytic themes. Peer debriefing was pivotal in ensuring that the first author was reflexive about how her racial and gender identity and past educational experiences (e.g., attending multiple PWIs) shaped how she approached data analysis. The first author shared components of her analytic memos with the third author during their peer debriefing sessions.
Findings
The purpose of our study was twofold: (a) to examine how Black students at a Midwestern PWI process and make sense of their educational environment—specifically the dynamics of WIS, and (b) explore the ways in which their narratives point to institutional policies, practices, and (in)actions that exemplify a WIS. By exploring the students lived experiences, we aimed to deepen our understanding of how Black students interpret and respond to WISs through their interactions with administrators, faculty, staff, and peers—and to better understand how these environments contribute to racial marginalization and harm. Moreover, we sought to reveal the material and psychological costs of navigating such a space that reifies White privilege and reproduces racial inequality. Analysis of the focus group data revealed two broad themes: (a) “Making a White Institutional Space” and (b) “Cognitive Labor and Impression Management in a White Institutional Space: Respectability Politics and Assertion.”
“Making a White Institutional Space”
Rich narratives detailing the participants’ complex understanding of how Whiteness was entrenched in their PWI spanned the interviews. This theme emerged from interview questions prompting students to discuss their personal experiences with discrimination and/or racism and the campus racial climate. Their discussions detailing their personal experiences with racism were nested within an intricate understanding of how the university represented a WIS. Students explicitly described CMU as a “White school,”“PWI, created by White people so that White people can get an education,” and a “White-based institution,” where, as Ayanna (a sophomore sociology major) stated, “Even in the library you see all these old White people on these pictures, and you don't see Black people.”
Spontaneous conversations about CMU's curriculum revealed how students felt left out, minimized, and invisible. For example, within the fourth focus group, Tyla (a junior English major) disclosed how she felt as if “everything’s just basically written by White people for White people” and how that made her feel like “we [CMU] don't want you here, you don't matter.” Likewise, Hope (a senior health sciences major) shared her desire for a new health professions curriculum, laughing while stating, “We [Black people] are more than Tuskegee”—emphasizing that such a narrow perspective of Black people's involvement in the history of health professions (e.g., as exploited patients in the Tuskegee Syphilis Study) ignores how “We [Black people] have paved the way in so many medical diagnoses, surgeries, in so many different ways.” In what follows, we highlight four significant focus group discussions that illustrate how and why Black students perceived CMU to be a WIS through (a) inadequate and dismissive administrative responses to campus racism (first and second focus groups), (b) ineffective and often harmful university-mandated program efforts in response to the student protest and demands (fourth and sixth focus groups), and (c) the inability to hold White students accountable for their role in improving the campus racial climate and challenging/dismantling White spaces (fifth focus group). Within this theme, we illustrate how students (a) viewed CMU as a WIS (subtheme 1), (b) viewed the mostly White administrators of CMU's lack of action and indifference as harmful, marginalizing, and negatively impacting their sense of belonging (subtheme 2), and (c) perceived and made meaning of the administrative policies and “responses” to Black student protest and demands for greater resources as ineffective and harmful (subtheme 3).
Administrative Institutional Logics, Norms, and (Non)Responses to Campus Racism
Black students’ experiences with CMU's administration played a key role in their feelings of a lack of belonging and racial marginalization. For example, in the second focus group, students discussed their perceptions of and experiences with the university administration. Their discussion illustrates how racial power dynamics and interactions (between Black students and White administration) disregarded and rendered Black students’ experiences, voices, priorities, and needs invisible, (re)producing patterns of social exclusion and White privilege.
I think it's just also like their lack of. .. I don't even want to say care; sometimes I feel like they forget that we're here.. .. We've all been in spaces where we have to think about people other than ourselves. I think White people with power here don't have to do that because they've never had to do that. I believe that when someone says you need to be taking care of students they automatically picture a White girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, and they're like, “I’m touching every area of campus.” You're not even touching any of the marginalized students—you just choose to only see an able body White woman who's straight and comes from a WASP background. There's layers, and I feel like they don't want to understand there's layers.
I think there are structures and barriers in place that this institution has set up on a systematic level that divide individuals. Dealing with administration because of my involvement with our Black student government on campus, it's like a daily struggle. We [Black students] need to be in spaces. Especially with everything that happened in 2015 [a series of racist incidents on and off campus followed by Black student-led protests] this is something that they should not be reminded about. This is a testament to where we are and how much further to go.
You want us to be here, so like it's not a 100% White school, but are you going to allow us to stay and support us through it mentally and emotionally?
Regina’s admission reveals how, based on her experiences, she felt as if the White people with power on campus have administrative blind spots. That is, they forget that Black students exist on campus, thus failing to “think about people other than themselves” because “they’ve never had to do that.” Further elaborating on her concern that school administrators don't see or prioritize the needs of students of color, Regina highlighted that when school leadership thinks about serving student needs, they automatically envision a “White girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. .. who's straight. .. [from a] WASP background.” Similarly, as a leader in Black student governance, Angelica highlighted the “daily struggle” of her interactions with school administrators, who she felt responded inadequately to successive racist incidents and the Black student-led protests that followed. Angelica's admission reveals that (a) Black students are still excluded from decision-making spaces on campus (even after these events) and (2) school administrators have not learned from past mistakes and show little commitment to giving Black students a meaningful seat at the table or genuinely addressing their concerns. Adding to the conversation, Kristyn pointed out that she felt that school administrators treated Black students like props, wanting them to be there to ensure that the school wasn't a “100% White school” but lacking real commitment to supporting the mental and emotional well-being of students of color as they navigated their WIS. This discussion reveals how Black students believe that the CMU administration privileges and prioritizes the needs and concerns of White students, positioning them as the default or ideal students requiring institutional support and attention. Regina, Kristyn, and Angelica's narratives suggest that the administration overlooks the distinct challenges and concerns faced by students of color. Consequently, their accounts point to a perceived failure of institutional logics, norms, and practices to account for the campus's full racial and ethnic diversity, further marginalizing underrepresented student populations.
Within the first focus group, Valerie, Gregory, Yasmine, and Shannel echoed similar sentiments.
Black and White students are at the same university, but it can kind of seem like we all aren't bears [school mascot]. Systemic racism is everywhere. I feel like being more proactive—addressing more of that [racism on campus] and being able to acknowledge, yes, we are all CMU bears, but my experience isn't the same as this person's experience—and acknowledging that there are disparities that exist on this campus.
A lot of the time, everyone is like there's a problem with diversity. Okay. What does that mean? Go deeper. .. show us that you were listening. Show us that when we complain to one another, it's not just to one another—that you also hear what's going on or see it. I feel like our experiences aren't verbalized on a community level.
Yeah, I agree. Sometimes, if we get it [a public response from the administration regarding campus racism], it's like a weak overall response.
Yeah, I feel like CMU has to—and institutions in general just have to start acknowledging the fact that they're inherently racist and oftentimes they feel guilty about it, which is why it isn't discussed.
Valerie, Gregory, Yasmine, and Shannel described how CMU's administration had failed to recognize and acknowledge the existence of systemic racism on campus. Moreover, they linked those administrative blind spots—particularly the administration's unwillingness to genuinely see, understand, and publicly address the racialized experiences of Black students—to their feelings of marginalization and diminished sense of belonging on campus. Whereas Regina in the second focus group characterized administrative blind spots as the school's leadership hyperfocus on the prototypical CMU student—“White girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. .. [from a] WASP background”—students in this focus group interpreted administrative blind spots as the inability to recognize the distinct experiences and concerns of students of color as they navigate systemic racism on campus. Within the first focus group, students explicitly called for the administration to acknowledge “that there are [campus] disparities/or that CMU is inherently racist,”“go deeper,” and “show us that you are listening.” They emphasized feeling that their voices and experiences were not taken seriously. As they navigated a PWI shaped by systemic racism (i.e., CMU), students sought public acknowledgment of the harm they endured and a sincere institutional response. In the absence of such recognition, students felt overlooked, invisible, and ignored—further eroding their sense of belonging. Rather than fostering a sense of community, the students’ narratives (e.g., the first focus group) suggested that the administration's inaction reinforced their racial marginalization and deepened their sense that they were not truly part of the CMU community.
Ineffective Administrative Responses to Black Student Protest and Demands
One of the most prominent focus group discussions centered around CMU's lack of response to the list of demands that resulted from the 2015–16 student protest. In the months preceding campuswide protests, students of color repeatedly reported racially charged incidents, including the use of racial slurs in public spaces and the appearance of racist graffiti in residence halls. These episodes were not isolated; rather, they reflected a broader campus climate that many students described as unwelcoming and racially hostile. Public administrative responses to these incidents were widely perceived as delayed and perfunctory. Official statements of condemnation often arrived days after events occurred, emphasizing unity and civility but offering little in the way of concrete accountability or institutional reform (Martin & Van Stee, 2020). For many students, this pattern signaled a deeper problem—leadership that prioritized image management over genuine engagement with systemic inequities. This perception was further reinforced when, during an exchange with student activists, the university president downplayed the existence of systemic racism on campus, suggesting instead that the greater issue was that Black students did not believe they had equal opportunity for success (Peralta, 2015). Many interpreted the comment as dismissive of structural racism, reframing the issue as one of perception rather than institutional responsibility. When pressed further on the insensitivity of his remarks, the president walked away from the discussion—an act that, for many, symbolized the administration's broader detachment from the lived realities of students of color (Trachtenberg, 2018). During several of the focus groups highlighted within the larger theme, students described the accumulation of these incidents and perceived administrative inaction as deepening mistrust between students and leadership, ultimately catalyzing organized protest and calls for systemic change.
All the students who participated in the focus groups either witnessed or heard of the 2015–16 student protest. While all of the students were aware of the list of demands (e.g., increase the percentage of Black faculty, revise the existing curriculum to be more inclusive of racial equity, and increase the percentage of mental health professionals of color), they frequently discussed disappointment surrounding the administration's general failure and inaction around promoting a safe and inclusive environment through the creation of effective diversity, equity, and inclusion xDEI programs and trainings. The focus group discussions revealed how CMU maintained, perpetuated, and protected Whiteness through various university-mandated programs, curriculum efforts, and policy changes and its impact on the students. The students felt as if their demands were largely dismissed, particularly calls for a more equitable redistribution of resources and opportunities across campus.
Student discussions regarding the recent initiatives developed by the administration in response to Black student-led protests spanned across multiple focus groups. Students largely saw these new programs, speaker series, and media campaigns as ineffective. According to the students, attendance for these events was optional, or students were often encouraged to attend for class extra credit (which might outweigh genuine interest). For example, students from the sixth focus group, R.J. and Sabrina, shared their experiences while attending a book discussion of the required diversity reading for incoming students. The overarching goal of the discussion was to provide students with a realistic portrayal of systemic racism and aid in cultivating empathy for individuals and families impacted by racial injustice (e.g., police violence). However, both R.J. and Sabrina pointed out how defensiveness (by the book discussion facilitator) and disconnection (White students’ lack of empathy) revealed the limits of these institutional responses to racism.
We read The Hate U Give. They required us to read it, and I went to one of the discussions. There was a White guy in there [facilitator]. He didn't have an open mind. He came in ready for combat basically, and he's like, “Well, cops are trained to shoot people,” blah, blah, this and that. They allowed us to write questions down and pass them over. One of the questions was, “Do you think something, something, something had to do with OJ Simpson being Black?” And it's like how does that relate to the topic that we're talking about? We're talking about police brutality. What does OJ Simpson have to do with this?
I think police brutality is one of the dividing factors between Black and White students at CMU, because they lack empathy and understanding. I think reading The Hate U Give is a good step, but that's not enough. It's not enough because they don't understand.
The book discussion demonstrates how, despite the administration's intent to use the book as an opportunity to reduce campus racial bias and foster empathy and understanding, the outcome was counterproductive. According to R.J., the facilitator approached the discussion “ready for combat” and downplayed the severity of police violence against unarmed Black youth. Likewise, Sabrina's shared how she felt that the book discussion was “a good step, but not enough,” given a lack of empathy and understanding among White students regarding police brutality. Similarly, Courtney (junior communications major, fourth focus group) reflected on CMU's new diversity and inclusion campaign (an administration-sponsored response to Black student demands). She explained that the administration's rebranding strategy— showcasing photographs of Black and Brown students throughout campus— substituted symbolic gestures for substantive change, ultimately deepening students’ sense of marginalization and tokenization. As Counrtney articulated, “CMU wants to say, ‘Oh, we love our students. We have all this diversity, inclusion.’” I don't see it. Okay, you post a Black girl somewhere on a picture, an advertisement. That's all we're getting? No. Throw it away. Try again. Make actual programs that are inclusive for all your students. If you're going to be about it, be about it.
R.J., Sabrina, and Courtney's perspectives illustrate how these programs and diversity initiatives can be perceived as ineffective and harmful and reproduce inequality. Rather than responding to Black student concerns regarding the campus racial climate with care and intentionality, White CMU administrators responded with new policies and programmatic efforts (e.g., including more Black students in campus photos and appointing faculty inexperienced in topics such as race/racism to facilitate small-group discussions) that students felt were lackluster, ineffective, and disconnected from their formal list of demands and potential needs.
White Student (Lack of) Accountability and the Campus Racial Climate
Tyrell, Raphael, Brittani, and Valencia (fifth focus group) shared that while they felt a responsibility to participate in these events to improve their campus racial climate, they felt that most White students lacked “intentionality” and more often attended these events for extra credit only.
I think people are afraid to touch. I don't feel like as Black people we hold the responsibility to go into these spaces if you're risking your mental health. But it's a double-edged sword. You're not responsible to, but it helps when you have somebody in there who's sacrificing and making it that way. Because they'll tell their friends, and that's how it starts. But it's also the other way around. If I'm willing to go into your space, where I'm vulnerable, you should be willing to come into mine. And I don't feel like that happens.. .. if it does, it's not intentional.
The keyword is intentional. I don't want you there because it's a requirement. I want you there because you want to be there. Because you're genuine. You want to support my community, and you want to support me.
Its mostly Black people making the effort. White people are fine with being segregated. In the White spaces that I've been into, there's been no overarching effort to include other people. They're good. But in Black spaces it's like, “Oh, we should integrate. We should go to this/that.. .. I don't see the same effort being extended to us by White people.
A lot of White students just kind of float through life without having to know other marginalized students. They have that privilege to not have to know or care, whereas we're sharing [our spaces] or we're in their spaces.. .. Black students have this constant feeling of being in their space, and they don't ever have to enter ours. They never have to go to the IDE (inclusion, diversity, and equity) office or the Black Culture Center.
The dialogue between Tyrell and Raphael reflects their desire for more impactful and effective programming aimed at improving the campus racial climate as well as a call for authentic engagement from White student allies— those who intentionally and thoughtfully enter Black campus spaces. As Raphael puts it, the goal is to “support my community, and. .. me.” Both Tyrell and Raphael critiqued current initiatives as largely ineffective, noting that while such programs may bring White students and students of color into shared spaces—often incentivized by extra credit—they rarely challenge the structure of White-dominated spaces or hold White students accountable for contributing meaningfully to racial climate improvements at CMU. From their perspectives, Black students have shown a willingness to enter White spaces and build community but often find that reciprocal efforts from White peers are lacking. Tyrell emphasized that such navigation of White spaces can be mentally and emotionally taxing for students of color, further highlighting how these institutional environments function in ways that make them feel unsafe—compromising their well-being. Brittani's comment framing integration at CMU as “mostly Black people making the effort” and subsequent follow-up that “White people are fine with being segregated” reveals how she felt that segregation on their predominantly White campus was not simply the result of mutual racial preferences (i.e., racial self-segregation) but rather stemmed from White students’ indifference and a lack of effort in integrating the campus. Brittani also felt that White students were occupying and controlling the dominant institutional spaces on campus, whereas Black students were left to either assimilate or remain marginalized. Her account emphasizes how efforts toward integration often fall unevenly, with students of color bearing most of the burden and felt responsibility. Valencia expanded on this observation, noting that White students frequently “float through life without having to know other marginalized students.” She highlighted this as a form of spatial privilege—the ability to navigate campus life without needing to engage with racially minoritized peers or frequent spaces dedicated to inclusion and belonging. Valencia also pointed out that White students are not expected to visit places like the Black Culture Center or the IDE office. Students’ accounts, specifically the fifth focus group, highlighted within this theme reflect a perceived power imbalance embedded in selective involvement, whereby Black students are required to navigate predominantly White spaces (e.g., classrooms, dorms, student center, and fraternity/sorority housing village), whereas White students can remain separate, reinforcing campus hierarchies. Their accounts further point to a perceived asymmetry, in which Black students must inhabit and understand White-dominated spaces, whereas White students can choose whether to engage with diversity or leave their racial comfort zones, reflecting systemic privilege and power.
The student narratives highlighted in the “Making a White Institutional Space” theme point to, on multiple levels, the institutional policies, practices, and (in)actions that exemplify a WIS. One level encompasses the institutional norms and set of administrative practices that minimized systemic racism and privileged/prioritized the needs and concerns of the “ideal” White students while overlooking the voices and concerns of students of color—contributing to Black students’ racial marginalization. A second level represents university policies in response to student protest that students viewed as, at best, ineffective and, at worst, harmful. Finally, at the student level, these policies and programmatic efforts attempted to entice White students to (temporarily) move into non-White or less White spaces on campus with extra credit opportunities. Their exchanges illustrate how White students are allowed to move in and out of these spaces voluntarily with no real/genuine intention to be “vulnerable” outside of their comfort zones. The findings also revealed that while Black students felt a strong sense of responsibility to improve their school's racial climate and engage in campus equity work, they also felt that White students felt exempt from such obligations. As Valencia stated, they appeared to “float through [campus] life” with relative ease, presumably bearing no burden beyond simply being CMU students—a privilege not afforded to Black CMU students.
“Cognitive Labor and Impression Management in a White Institutional Space: Respectability Politics and Assertion”
Stimulated by questions that asked students to think about how their experiences impacted them and their mental health, the “Cognitive Labor and Impression Management in a White Institutional Space” theme encapsulates the different ways students approached coping in a WIS. Black students at CMU described navigating their campus environment and potentially racist encounters with teachers and peers in two ways: (a) by consciously behaving in non-stereotypical ways and (b) by assertion (asserting themselves) or confidently and forcefully ensuring that they are seen, heard, and valued. Both strategies are performative and reflect different types of impression or stereotype management. Within this theme, we illustrate how students (a) used respectability politics to prove that they belong at CMU (subtheme 1) and (b) asserted themselves within the classroom setting to ensure that their presence was felt among their White peers (subtheme 2).
Respectability Politics: Proving that You Belong
The quotes within this subtheme represent Black students’ attempts to dispel or challenge anti-Black stereotypes (e.g., stereotype management) by changing their conduct to conform to mainstream standards of behavior. For example, students within the first, fourth, and sixth focus groups urged their peers to carry themselves in a specific manner that avoided evoking racist stereotypes. A form of racial comportment consistent with respectability politics, students prescribe to the belief that conformity (e.g., not being perceived as lazy, violent, or less intelligent) will reduce intergroup anti-Black stigma and will protect marginalized persons from unfair or discriminatory treatment in their interactions with White faculty, staff, or student peers. The exchange captured within the fourth focus group depicts how students engaged in respectability politics and impression management.
Being a Black person, you have to carry yourself in a respectful way. You can't always go out being that old Black person. You can't always go out looking for violence, looking for revenge. You have to give them what they want. Sometimes you have to show them that you're on their level, that you're smart, and you have what it takes.
I feel like it makes us like overthink sometimes a little bit more, like just trying to fit in and stuff like that.
You have to prove yourself ‘cause you don't want to be another statistic; you don't know what's going on in their mind. They might be like this Black student is not smart. You want to surprise them, so you really have to go all out. You really gotta do a lot to make yourself stand out and let them know that I'm on the same path as you. I'm capable of doing everything that you can do. Just because we're two different races, that doesn't mean anything.
The discussion captured within this focus group illustrates how students felt an ongoing need to monitor, adjust, and perform their identities in response to how they believed they were being seen as Black students. This performance is not for personal enrichment but for survival and to counter stereotypes. Tony, for example, stated that “[a Black student should] carry yourself in a respectful way. You can't always go out being that old Black person. .. looking for violence, looking for revenge.. .. you have to give them what they want.” Tony articulated a belief that Black students must demonstrate exceptional composure and “proper” behavior, harkening to, even if unintentionally, respectability politics. Moreover, showing that he is “on their level” reflects the emotional and cognitive effort of proving he belongs—not because his ability is in question, but because he expects others to question it. Darren's follow-up statement illustrates the internal effects of the external pressures Tony described—the constant mental labor of self-monitoring. Jada emphasized that Black students feel they represent the race, not just themselves. Underperformance is feared not only personally but collectively. Doing “more” is framed as necessary to counter assumptions of Black intellectual inferiority. In the sixth focus group, Ashleigh, Jordan, and Angela added to this discussion.
If you're Black, come in being more than a stereotype. Show the people here that you know more than what they may think you know.
Obviously, with you being around mostly White people, you stand out more. If you carry yourself in a well, proper manner, then that can give you an opportunity to do something, but if you don't carry yourself in a well, proper manner, it can downgrade you.
There may be some lazy Black people on this campus who don't work as hard as others, but I feel that means you have to work 10 times harder. .. so [that] you aren't viewed as lazy. You want to be viewed as outgoing. You need to work really hard.
Similar to the preceding focus group exchange, these students are negotiating what it means to be seen as Black on their predominantly White campus. They are articulating the necessity of entering academic spaces on campus already in defense mode, prepared to counter racial stereotypes through heightened performance, self-monitoring, and overwork. Their statements show that belonging is conditional, not assumed, and must be continuously proven under the gaze of White scrutiny.
Gender differences in how students operationalized coping in a WIS also emerged. For example, Black males were more likely to endorse respectability politics as a pathway toward conformity. Tony, for example, encouraged his Black student peers to “give them [their White peers] what they want.” Darren encouraged others in his focus group to use this strategy to try to “fit in and stuff like that.” And Jordan advised students to “carry yourself in a well, proper manner,” warning that failure to conform could result in facing a “downgrade,” presumably by White peers. Black females, in contrast, were likely to endorse this coping strategy with the explicit goal of standing out by “do[ing] more” (Jada), “knowing more” (Ashleigh), and “work[ing] 10 times harder” (Angela) than the average White student. These gendered patterns occurred across focus groups. They speak to how racial stereotypes are often gendered and how Black males and females may manage these stereotypes differently. These findings reveal that while both Black males and females engage in respectability politics as a form of racial survival in predominantly White institutions, the content and purpose of that labor diverge along gendered lines. Black males emphasize appearing nonthreatening to counter narratives of criminality and aggression, whereas Black females emphasize overachievement and relentless productivity to resist assumptions of academic inferiority. In this way, respectability politics functions as a gendered strategy, shaped by a distinct set of stereotypes.
Assertion: Making Your Presence Felt and Your Voice Heard
Students also candidly discussed how they coped with and navigated feelings of invisibility and the reality of social exclusion when navigating their institution deeply entrenched in Whiteness. Across multiple focus groups (the first, second, and sixth focus groups), students engaged in conversations around how they used assertiveness or assertion—an emotion-focused form of coping—as they navigated their WIS as a means of resisting or pushing back against Whiteness. Below is an exchange between members of the sixth focus group.
You’re gonna see me. You're gonna know who the smartest person in this classroom is. That's how I just walk into every space, how I carry myself. I don't slope down. I stand up straight. I look nice. I make sure I sit in the front. Maybe the White people don't feel like they have to do that to be seen or heard. But I feel like I have to. I'm gonna be one of your top students, and you're gonna call on me.
I force it. I forcibly take leadership, and I'm like this is what we're going to do. This is how we're gonna do it. You're gonna do this, and you're gonna do this. You have to have it done by Saturday. If you don't, I’m not writing it.
I find myself having to do that, too. And I feel guilty because why do I have to be responsible for your work, or I also feel guilty because I'm like, damn, I'm coming on too aggressive.
You have to get to a point where you know yourself and you know that your success is not reliant on somebody else. So, yes, you may be in a class when you are failing, but don't let anybody around you see that. You gotta be strong in yourself. I know where I'm going, I know what I got to do, and I'm gonna get it done. I don't care what you think about me. .. you are in charge of your own successes.
Although the discussions centered on respectability politics (subtheme 1) highlighted students coping with their presence within a WIS (i.e., CMU) by changing or altering their behavior as a means of conformity, the discussions within this subtheme centered on students changing, altering, or amplifying their behavior as a means of resistance. Given students’ sense that their existence, voices, and experiences were rendered invisible by White administrators, faculty, and peers, these students behaved in ways that asserted that they existed and belonged. Assertion also represents a projection of strength and empowerment in the face of anti-Black stereotypes and racism. In this sense, assertion also represents an emotionally grounded problem-oriented coping strategy that functions to protect one's self-conception (or conceptions of themselves) as they navigate their PWI.
In the case of the assertion subtheme, Black students were less concerned with what their White peers thought about them and were more concerned with managing their own emotions or sense of self (e.g., self-worth or self-impressions) by altering or amplifying their behavior (e.g., amplifying their voice, projecting strength, and asserting leadership) as a source of empowerment and means of resistance (or defiance) in an environment where they often feel invisible, ignored, and their abilities underestimated. Our findings build on existing understandings of invisible labor—namely emotional labor (e.g., managing anger, frustration, and rage; Moore, 2008)—by showing that such labor also entails regulating one's internal emotional responses while simultaneously managing the emotions and impressions of others. Additionally, this emotion work overlaps with cognitive labor because students engage in mental processes of reflection, analysis, and strategic planning associated with changing their behavior (racial comportment) in various ways to either manage, mitigate, or circumvent the potential harmful effects of racial stigma, stereotypes, and/or discrimination. Both forms of labor require an immense amount of emotional and cognitive investment—effort that Black students regularly expend and their White student peers rarely shoulder (Evans & Moore, 2015; Kelly et al., 2021; Moore, 2008). Students also highlighted ways in which these coping strategies caused harm. Assertion was a common theme that came up across focus groups and was primarily a coping strategy adopted by Black college females—perhaps suggesting a racialized and gendered burden. For example, as Megan highlighted, a potential drawback of assertion is that when students take leadership during group projects or classroom assignments, they often end up carrying the burden of completing tasks for disengaged peers. Megan also shared that while she often used assertation in classroom settings to ensure that her voice was heard and presence felt, it also made her feel “guilty” because she worried her behavior might reinforce negative stereotypes—giving the impression to her White peers that Black women are “too aggressive.”
Discussion
Research examining how Black students cope with the reality of navigating PWIs is extensive and spans multiple disciplines and decades (Griffith et al., 2019; Harper & Hurtado, 2007; Lewis et al., 2025; Smith et al., 2007). Yet Whiteness—particularly as an institutionalized system of power shaping campus climate and racialized experience—remains comparatively underexamined. To date, critical interrogations of Whiteness on PWIs has focused primarily on how White students, faculty, and administrators engage with Whiteness, shaping their attitudes, identities, and educational experiences (Cabrera et al., 2017; Tevis et al., 2023). In contrast, there has been far less attention paid to the experiential knowledge and voices of Black students—specifically how Black students make sense of and process the White spaces they navigate, as well as the material consequences, including the mental and emotional harm that accompanies their navigation (Briscoe & Jones, 2022; Joseph-Salisbury, 2019). Our study is novel in that it explicitly interrogates how the institutional arrangements that comprise a WIS—in the case of CMU—unduly situate Black students in the contradictory, and harmful, position of having to navigate racist academic structures while confronting institutional norms, values, and practices (e.g., Whiteness as normal, neutral, or the default and campus racism framed as an aberration) that deny both the racial dynamics on campus and the harm those dynamics produce (Bonilla-Silva, 2021; Evans & Moore, 2015).
The “Making of a White Institutional Space” theme illustrates how the students made meaning of how race, racism, and Whiteness shaped their educational environment. In particular, the students who participated in our study provided several rich examples illustrating how and why they perceived CMU to be a WIS where “everything’s just basically written by White people for White people.” As students further described, administrators disregarded Black students’ voices, experiences, and needs—because in their view they were not seen as part of the institution's normative student profile, which centered Whiteness—embodied in the figure of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed White student. Narratives within this theme also revealed the discursive ways in which White administrators, faculty/staff, and students avoided recognizing how Whiteness (e.g., the health sciences curriculum, the administration's failure to recognize racism/articulate Black student concerns, tokenization of Black students in campus marketing efforts, and the lack of White student peer allies willing to engage in intentional integration efforts) adversely impacted Black students, contributing to their feelings of invisibility, marginalization, and a diminished sense of belonging.
Implications for Scholarship: Cognitive Labor and Impression Management
Our study extends current scholarship on coping and racialized labor in higher education by illuminating how Black undergraduates navigate institutional conditions shaped by indifference and the absence of equity-driven administrative action. Students’ narratives revealed that when campus leaders fail to confront systemic racism or challenge institutional norms that privilege White student interests, Black students may shoulder the burdensome invisible labor of cultivating the institutional conditions they deem necessary to navigate a racially hostile environment—imposing a disproportionate emotional and cognitive tax on their academic journeys. The WIS framework has been used to examine racialized labor among law students, lawyers, and aviation workers of color (Evans & Moore, 2015; Moore, 2008). Previous work also has explored undergraduate students’ perspectives and experiences in relation to aspects of WIS (Kelly et al., 2021; Newton, 2023). However, these bodies of work (see Evans & Moore, 2015; Jackson, 2018; Moore, 2008) have primarily emphasized emotional labor—an emotion-focused coping strategy used to regulate, suppress, or strategically conceal one's feelings (e.g., managing anger, frustration, and rage) in response to racially stressful dynamics within White-dominated settings (e.g., law schools, places of employment, and public spaces). Our study expands the framework by providing evidence for an additional form of invisible labor faced by Black undergraduate students, which we refer to as cognitive labor that places an inequitable burden on Black students that their White peers are not expected to bear. This form of labor encompasses the continuous mental work of anticipating racialized interactions, managing campus climate uncertainty, and strategizing how to remain academically and socially safe within an institution not structured with your needs in mind.
We noted two types of cognitive labor in our data. The first was respectability politics—a form of racial conformity—where students consciously behaved in non-stereotypical ways, carrying themselves in a “respectful” or “proper way” and feeling that they had to “prove” that they belonged on their campus and/or that they needed to work “twice as hard” as their White peers. This is a common theme in previous research among higher-achieving Black students (Fries-Britt & Griffin, 2007; Griffith et al., 2019). Although both males and females in our study equally endorsed respectability politics, Black males were more likely to endorse this coping strategy as a pathway toward conformity or “fitting in” to give White students, faculty, and administrators “what they want.” In contrast, Black females were more likely to adopt this coping strategy with the explicit goal of standing out by doing/knowing more or, as Angela articulated, “work[ing] 10 times harder” than their White student peers.
The second form of cognitive labor employed by Black students is what we refer to as assertion, or a form of racial resistance associated with confidently and forcefully “taking leadership” to ensure that they are seen, heard, and valued; “being strong in yourself”; and taking the approach toward White peers/faculty (and racism) that “I’m not going to let you, or your ignorance, get in the way of me and my grade and my hard work.” Black females within our study were more likely to interrogate their hypervisibility/invisibility through engaging in asserting themselves to be seen or recognized as a valuable member of the classroom environment. Similar to their approach to respectability politics, Black females in our study were hyperaware of their Blackness and women-ness as they navigated predominately White educational spaces (Kelly et al., 2021; Newton, 2023). While this study did not explicitly explore how gender influences the students’ experiences at CMU, the emotional toll and cognitive labor that Black females in our study engaged in to prove their worth is a major theme within existing literature (Kelly et al., 2021; Newton, 2023).
As we further argue, respectability politics and assertion also represent an innovative set of problem-focused coping strategies that Black CMU students employed to manage, mitigate, or circumvent the potential harmful effects of racial stereotypes, racism, and cultures of anti-Blackness on their campus. Importantly, both strategies are performative and reflect different types of impression or stereotype management. In the case of respectability politics, students strategically modified their conduct to conform to what they viewed as mainstream (presumably White, middle-class) standards of behavior, seeking to distance themselves from racialized stereotypes (e.g., being viewed as too stereotypically “Black”) on the one hand, while attempting to be viewed as worthy, respectable, or exceptional by their White student peers, faculty, and administrators on the other. Concerning assertion, students in our study also were aware of the racialized dynamics they faced on their campus but appeared less concerned about changing the negative impressions that their student peers, faculty, and administrators had of them. Instead, they strategically focused on managing their own emotions or sense of self (e.g., self-worth and self-impressions) and projection of strength as a source of empowerment and means of resistance in an environment where they often felt invisible and ignored and their abilities underestimated.
By naming and evidencing cognitive labor, through the analysis of student narratives, as a distinct burden disproportionately placed on Black students, our study broadens the analytic reach of the WIS framework and highlights a mechanism of racial inequality that is seldom acknowledged or valued. Such conditions not only reproduce racial inequality on college campuses but also have the potential to lead to misinterpretations of students’ struggles as personal failings (i.e., a deficit-based interpretation) rather than recognizing them as consequences of institutionalized racial barriers. Without an understanding of this added burden or hidden cost of admission, administrators might unfairly attribute struggles to a student's ability or lack of commitment/effort rather than acknowledging the institutional barriers that significantly impede their success.
Furthermore, the coping strategies the participants employed either actively resisted racism (e.g., assertion) or unknowingly aided in the reproduction of oppression, as in the case of respectability politics (e.g., having to constantly prove your worth, dignity, and intelligence to White faculty, staff, and peers, often without success). In particular, the candid narratives shared within these themes illustrate how a WIS is codified through the students’ internalization and normalization of White hegemonic norms of rugged individualism (“You are in charge of your own successes”), work ethic (“I will forcibly take leadership”), and competition (“I assert myself”). Using assertion as a means of self-empowerment or to protect one's sense of self, having to feel that you have to prove your intelligence/self-worth or one's sense of belonging, illustrates how the students were inundated with, and subsequently bought into, dominate White racialized standards that then situated them within a racial hierarchy that justifies resources that are (or are not) available to others based on where they are placed within the hierarchy (Miller, 2022). Perhaps a drawback of this coping strategy is that as students attempt to prove that they belong and conform to what they perceive as “acceptable” Blackness, they may unknowingly contribute to the reproduction of their own oppression and marginalization (e.g., the constant emotional and cognitive labor of having to prove their worth, dignity, and intelligence to White faculty, staff, and peers, often without success). By adhering to these racialized standards and expectations, Black students sought protection from discrimination, yet, in doing so, they may still reinforce systems of oppression and marginalization—participating in their own subjugation within a WIS. In this way, cognitive labor—frequently necessitated by the indifference or inaction of White institutional actors—functions as both a form of resistance and a source of harm.
Despite the scholarly implications of our study, it is not without limitations. The data explored within this study are limited to a PWI located in the Midwest. Moreover, the sample recruited for this study primarily consisted of self-identified cisgender, heterosexual students, meaning the lived experiences shared within the study may not reflect that of Black students with multiple oppressed identities. We acknowledge that additional recruitment efforts could have been put in place to recruit a more diverse sample of students. Increased diversity within our study sample (i.e., greater representation among Black LGBTQ and cisgender males) would have allowed us to uncover how Black students make meaning of a WIS across multiple perspectives and identities. For example, while we engaged in snowball sampling, more targeted recruitment strategies (i.e., reaching out to LGBTQ/queer and male-focused student organizations) also could have been implemented. While we attempted to evenly recruit Black males and females, our efforts still resulted in a higher percentage of Black females participating in the focus groups. A larger percentage of Black males within our study may have provided additional gender-related perspectives of CMU, Whiteness, and the campus racial climate. Given the outcome of our recruitment efforts, we made sure to incorporate the perspective of Black males within our discussion of the research findings. Along the same lines, more ethnic diversity within our sample (i.e., students who identified as African) also may have provided nuanced insight into how Black-identifying students from diverse ethnic backgrounds navigate and make meaning of the campus racial environment.
Implications for Practice
Black student experiences matter. Black student voices matter—and their lives matter. They, and other marginalized students including the students at CMU and at other PWIs around the country that are calling for systemic change, have the right to attain an education free from dehumanizing stereotypes, microaggressions, and racism—and that right should be recognized and protected. This project offers insight into the challenges Black undergraduate students experience while navigating a PWI. Although we make no claim that there is a one-size-fits-all campus solution to mitigating the harms of a WIS, we believe that a meaningful first step is that school administrators need to listen to and take Black student voices and experiences more seriously. Harper’s (2017) concept of racially responsive leadership offers administrators a path to actively disrupt norms that prioritize White students at the expense of students of color. This kind of leadership doesn't just listen to Black students—it works in partnership with them. It requires a deep, sustained commitment to hearing Black students, valuing their insights, and responding with concrete action. Rather than relying on hollow gestures or performative statements, racially responsive leadership demands structural change. Institutions must move beyond rhetoric and invest in practices that support Black student belonging in meaningful and lasting ways while holding themselves, White faculty/staff, and students responsible for the harmful racial dynamics that they cocreate within WISs. Without this shift, they risk reinforcing the very systems of privilege and exclusion they claim to oppose (Beatty et al., 2020; Engram & Mayer, 2023). Students in our study raised four broad concerns that have significant implications for practice. Students in our study revealed how their experiences were minimized or ignored and their needs unmet. They called for administrators to acknowledge that systemic racism exists on their campus. The experience they shared urged White students, faculty, and staff to recognize the harm of a toxic campus racial climate and how such experiences differentially affect students of color. Their second broad concern centered around calls for CMU leaders to listen to their concerns with intentionality, sincerity, and openness; take meaningful and deliberate action based on their input; actively work to address their concerns with policies and practices that promote equity and inclusion; and dismantle exclusionary practices that do them harm. Students also were concerned about institutional values, norms, priorities, and policies—namely how they privileged and prioritized White students to the disadvantage of students of color. Lastly, they shared concerns about the creation of authentic and safe spaces for Black students—describing White-dominated spaces on campus as psychologically taxing. Tyrell (the fifth focus group), a sophomore athletic training major, shared this sentiment during focus group discussions, explaining that when Black students navigate these spaces, it often felt like “you’re risking your mental health.” Based on the voices and experiences of these students, it is paramount that administrators at CMU be committed to engaging in self-reflection (Harper, 2017). We specifically recommend that they reflect on their own biases and assumptions, competencies, and lack of awareness pertaining to institutional norms, values, policies, and practices that benefit White students to the disadvantage of students of color. Given the extensive body of literature documenting the racialized harms that students of color often encounter at PWIs (Corbin et al., 2018; Lewis et al., 2025; Morales, 2021; Smith et al., 2007), we believe that our findings also may be instructive for administrators at other predominately White institutions seeking to identify and address similar patterns of inequality on their campuses.
Considering the various coping strategies that Black students employed (or recommended to future Black peers) as they navigated the racially hostile collegiate environment at CMU, a common question was, “How do these coping strategies help us better understand the role that campus administrators can play in promoting inclusive and equitable environments?” We believe that the WIS perspective grounded in critical race theory compels us to ask (and answer) a different set of questions—that is, (a) “What role do school administrators play in creating and maintaining exclusive and inequitable environments that benefit or privilege White students while further marginalizing students of color?” and (b) “What steps can (and should) school administrators take to challenge and dismantle cultures of Whiteness and hold themselves and White faculty, staff, and students responsible for anti-Black racism to produce and sustain equitable and inclusive environments where Black students (and other students of color) feel seen, heard, valued, and supported—without the need to rely on race-related coping strategies for survival that often result in racial harm?”
Experiences of racism can be subtle, unwitting, unconscious, or overt, injurious, and irreconcilable. To fully capture and articulate the totalizing effect racism has on Black college students enrolled in PWIs, future research should be guided by critical theoretical frameworks and methods that can be used to actively identify the mechanisms that perpetuate racism and challenge the root causes—rather than simply documenting the adverse health implications of racism and Whiteness. For example, in addition to applying a WIS framework to higher education, other theoretically grounded research in the burgeoning area of critical Whiteness studies also may be useful in the development of future interventions and policy to disrupt the pervasiveness of Whiteness and varied manifestations of colorblindness in PWIs that obscure the centrality of race/racism in the lives of students of color. The participants’ experiences illustrate how the PWI in which they are embedded continues to maintain institutional boundaries that perpetuate White supremacy and White privilege despite the PWI's insistence that it supports racial diversity and inclusion. PWIs must come to terms with the plethora of ways in which they benefit from and perpetuate structural racism and cultures of institutional Whiteness because the harm inflicted on Black students has the potential to affect them across their life course.
Supplemental Material
sj-pdf-1-aer-10.3102_00028312261446322 – Supplemental material for “You Only Want Us Here So It's Not a 100% White School”: Black College Students Negotiating, Coping with, and Resisting a White Institutional Space
Supplemental material, sj-pdf-1-aer-10.3102_00028312261446322 for “You Only Want Us Here So It's Not a 100% White School”: Black College Students Negotiating, Coping with, and Resisting a White Institutional Space by Kaleea R. Lewis, Jason L. Cummings and Maya Williams in American Educational Research Journal
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We thank our colleagues in our respective departments and extend special appreciation to Teresa I. Gonzales, Dana Garbarski, Anne Figert, Judson G. Everitt, and the anonymous reviewers for their helpful and thoughtful feedback on earlier drafts of this paper.
Author’s Note
Maya Williams is now affiliated to Portland State University, USA.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
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References
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