Are Legacy Clubs Obsolete?: Founders Day, Elitisim, Change, Oh my!

A year ago today, I celebrated my first Founders’ Day at Spelman College. I remember being extremely excited for the event, wearing my new white dress and black heels, curious to see what Spelman’s most cherished celebration had to offer. The processional began promptly at 8 am, and I can easily recall walking to join my friends so we could get a good spot in Sister’s Chapel to witness the event. 

While waiting in the long line of tired freshmen, I grew curious as to why other people were walking towards the front of the line while my friends and I stood strongly in our spot in the middle of the line. Girls walked by with pretty blue pins on the right corners of their dresses, headed towards the beginning of the procession. I was quite confused because many of them were my peers who didn’t hold any class council positions or have a specific role in the occasion. I soon realized that they were members of the Granddaughters Club, Spelman’s oldest RSO that serves current legacy students. They were given the privilege of leading the honorable procession into the chapel and sitting at the front of the ceremony. At the time, I too was a member of the Granddaughters Club and was jealous of my peers who got to lead the student body and witness the beloved ceremony up close. As I was processing my confusion and agitation, I realized that my feelings of exclusion were not uncommon among many of my peers. I quickly became conscious of the long-standing privilege and special treatment granted to legacy students at Spelman College.

Before continuing with this article, I believe it is truly crucial for me to point out my positionality as a Spelmanite. I am currently a sophomore and am the 14th member of my family to attend Spelman College. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know what Spelman College was. Many of the pictures hanging in my home are of our beloved institution. I would often accompany my mother to alumnae chapter meetings or have them hosted in my basement. In my third-grade picture day photo, I very clearly remember proudly wearing my blue shirt that said, “Improve your image, be seen with a Spelman Woman.” I am no stranger to the beauty, tradition, legacy, and sisterhood that is Spelman College. However, that does not mean that our institution should go without critique. 

Within this article, I am not attempting to shame, hate, or degrade. I am hoping to spark true conversation and critical thought. In our modern age, what does a Legacy Club offer to a school of evolving and transformative Black women leaders, and does providing members of said club special privileges do more harm than good?

To explore this topic and gain a more nuanced perspective, I have taken the time to interview legacy members of the Granddaughters Club and first-generation Spelman students alike. I asked them a variety of questions to better understand student perspectives on the Granddaughters Club and, more specifically, Founders Day celebrations.  From these questions and interviews, I would like to answer a few questions for myself as well. What does honoring and remembrance look like outside of elitism and division? Do we take for granted how exclusionary groups at Spelman impact the excluded? Is exclusion optional in a historically Black space, and would an institution built purely on meritocracy perpetuate white supremacist frameworks just as much as elitism?

The first interview I conducted was with Spelman sophomore Olivia Liddie, who, coincidentally, was my first Spelman Sister. We met at Spelbound and have been attached at the hip ever since. Our introduction to Spelman could not have been more different. She only recently learned what Spelman was before applying, and none of her family members have attended the school.  She fell in love with the institution at first sight. 

When asked,  “Do you think tradition should evolve to reflect the changing student body? Why or why not?” she answered, “Change is a part of any healthy community, and our traditions should reflect our evolving student body. The politics and traditions at Spelman have changed in the past, and they can still change today.” 

She then reminded me of the crucial history of our school’s Afrekete club: 

In the beginning, LGBTQ+ students felt uncomfortable having a club called the 'Gay-Straight Student Alliance' because of the culture of the time. Afrekete was born to create a safe space for queer students and now is a safe haven for many students today. What if the culture never changed from before? How would those students feel now? Cultures are meant to evolve. Black women are always innovating, so why stop now? Let’s move away from the stereotypes of the ‘classic Spelmanite’ and continue to work toward inclusion. I’m tired of seeing exclusion in my safe space. 

I left this conversation reflecting on the changes we have seen in our institution in the past. From Nelly boycotts to SNCC sit-ins, why is it that we empower Spelmanites to choose to change the world in many other spheres, but when it comes to elitism, we turn a blind eye?

I also got the opportunity to interview first-generation Spelman sophomore Aislynn Brew, who shared with me her confusion with the Founders’ Day traditions the institution holds so dearly: 

I think the current Founders’ Day processional structure sends the message that we are supposed to be united in the pride we share for Spelman. However, I also think it reiterates the ideals the institution was built upon, some of which are exclusive. The student body is separated, and not everyone can sit in the chapel. We are still having discussions about our white outfits and whether or not we can choose to wear something other than a dress without alumni looking at us weirdly. I think [that] in the preservation and pride of the legacy built here, we exclude those who don’t fit the mold of what a “Spelman woman” should be by the institution’s standard. In that way, the unity in pride for the school feels a bit disingenuous.

Brew’s sentiment is similar to one expressed by first-generation Spelman junior Jayda Hendrickson, who adds: 

I’m not completely sure what Founders' Day should symbolize. Ideally, it should be a celebration of how far Spelman has gotten as an all Black women’s institution — a celebration of history and resilience. However, I struggle to understand Spelman through a liberatory framework. In all, the school has been meant to socialize and create a Black bourgeoisie that is not dedicated to liberation for the working-class Black folks. It means to perpetuate elitism and brainwash its students into thinking that complacency is progress. 

There is extreme irony in having Ruha Benjamin give a beautiful speech last Founders’ Day on how “Black faces in high spaces will not save us” while we have select members of the school legacy club sitting in the front rows to receive the sentiment. Through these interviews, the common takeaway I had was that for many, school pride still seems inaccessible and exclusive. For a school rooted in principles of mutual aid and support, how can one of our most cherished celebrations be a representation of a history of classism in Black spaces?

I was honored that many of my first-generation Spelmanite peers felt safe enough to participate in my interviews and be vulnerable with their responses. I believe that real change will take concerted efforts from both parties, first-generation and legacy students. This led me to also interview Miss 1910 of the Granddaughters Club, Zaria Samuels. When asked what tradition means to her in our modern world, she said, “A true tradition is able to adapt to the community that it serves to ensure that it supports and represents everyone”. 

I then asked her for her definition of school pride, and she said, “I would define school pride as a student’s confidence, excitement, and investment into the institution. But more could be done [at Spelman] to make the celebration more inclusive and representative of the intersectional identities at the school.” From this conversation, I was reaffirmed in my hypothesis that Spelmanites believe that our school traditions should aim to be more inclusive and representative of our school population as a whole. If this is a common belief, why is it so hard for us to imagine a new Founders’ Day tradition that honors our past but is also representative of our ideal future?

Multigenerational Spelman junior and legacy student Hannah Baumgardner shared with me her own thoughts on legacy status at our institution today:

I think we should come to terms with the fact that our understanding of the founders is definitely idealized, and it’s really warped how we celebrate this school (and its students).  I was in a book talk discussion with Dr. Beverly Guy-Sheftall, and she explained that the founders had three goals for Spelman’s student  body. 1. Attach the students to Christianity 2. Teach the students how to read the Bible. 3. Ensure the students become moral. And it’s really that third one that I think we should bring up more whenever we talk about Spelman College because an aspect of “becoming moral” definitely still lingers in the present day, and that’s where I think the elitism and hierarchy begin to play their part.
It’s important to recognize that our attachment to uplifting legacies is closely linked to our desire to be respectable and achieve white acceptance. I think it’s even more crucial to recognize that there is nothing radical or revolutionary about ignoring our harmful past and blindly celebrating our shortcomings. 

My ideal version of Founders Day has existed before. While looking through the archives to find Founders’ Day agendas and reports from the past, I saw programs that included alumnae-student dialogues, history presentations and panel discussions, and a school-wide presentation on the great strides made by Spelman women. A Founders’ Day that isn’t rooted in legacy recognition and privilege is possible. It is harmful to give special treatment to legacy students purely because of their familial history. What are we congratulating them for? Being born into a family that had the resources to attend the institution earlier? Some argue that it is a networking club to build connections amongst legacy students, but that is what White people do to us all the time, to keep resources amongst themselves for themselves.

 There is a way to honor our past as an institution without upholding structures like elitism in our seemingly safe space. I know the solution is not a meritocracy either. Awarding those who work hard by having them in the front of the line is also quite harmful and reinforces the idea that, as Black women, our worth is equivalent to our work. I am constantly searching for answers as to how to make our school an institution that honors Black womanhood while also being radical and accommodating. In theory, having a club that honors our institution's past could be beautiful and necessary, but it is unproductive if it’s only accessible to a select few. I believe there is a world where we can still celebrate Founders’ Day while leaving room for questioning and student voice, walking in unison as our graduating seniors lead us into the chapel with pride as they prepare to carry on their legacies outside of the gates.

I’d like to emphasize that I am not undermining the value of acknowledging and honoring legacy and tradition. I truly believe that witnessing the Founders’ Day procession last year was one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen at Spelman. I get teary-eyed when I think about the joy I will have when I can walk Class Day with my grandmother, who didn’t get the chance to complete her degree from Spelman because of family circumstances. I do, however, believe that the way we currently approach honoring legacy is dangerous for a space that is supposed to denounce the oppressive nature of our Anti-Black world. It is harmful to uphold systems that we shame our white counterparts for creating, purely because it is now performed by Black women. I urge my readers to think about how they would feel if these exclusionary clubs and traditions were being practiced at a PWI.  Not questioning these systems because of personal benefit is violent. It is pertinent that we imagine and work toward a college and a sisterhood that can thrive and survive without exclusion.

Jocelyn Baker

Editoral Team