There are so many paths one can take in life. The same holds true for men and women. Some truths are simply universal. Like the fact that there is an exception to every rule. My name is Miranda Brownstone and I'm the Athletic Director of Randall College in the town of Norwood, Massachusetts. The first woman and the first Black person to hold that position in the school's one-hundred-year history. I'm a six-foot-one, heavyset and dark-skinned Black woman in her mid-thirties. Life isn't easy for someone like me at a lily-white school but I manage. To say that I've been under a lot of pressure would be an understatement.
When I first came to Randall College, I found myself at the helm of an athletic department that was severely over budget. The first thing I did was have a fund raiser. The school couldn't support its sports teams with the money it had. Even though we didn't offer athletic scholarships, the student-athletes had to be taken care of and their coaches had to be paid. Equipment, uniforms and transportation, all those things cost money. I was mindful of all that. To my great surprise, we raised six million dollars through the school's various alumni. My bold experiment was a success.
Thus I began to change the face of athletics at Randall College and in the process, I remade the school. Originally, Randall College sponsored men's varsity baseball, basketball, cross country, wrestling, rowing, rugby, volleyball, soccer, golf, ice hockey, swimming and tennis along with women's varsity softball, basketball, cross country, rugby, gymnastics, fencing, volleyball, soccer, field hockey, rowing, ice hockey, track & field, golf, swimming, tennis, equestrian and archery. The school's student body was fifty six percent female and the regulations of Title IX had to be followed. I found a way to boost male enrollment at Randall College and follow Title IX protocol at the same time. I started a varsity football program. And forever changed the face and status of Randall College.
The following fall, male enrollment skyrocketed. Not only that, the campus became more diverse as well. Eighty percent of the young men who came to Randall College as a result of the new football program were of African-American or Hispanic descent. The school's six-thousand-person student body was ninety nine percent Caucasian the previous year. Minority enrollment was booming the first year I came along, as students of Hispanic or African-American descent became thirty four percent of the school's undergraduate population. Male students now made up fifty percent of the freshman class and forty nine percent of the overall student body. Not bad, all things considered. Collegiate America always hails racial and ethnic diversity as a good thing but in reality, many people resented me for changing Randall College. Feminists didn't like the fact that half of the students on campus were young men, many of them student-athletes. And many white male and white female students didn't like having to compete with young men and women of Black and Hispanic descent for academic and athletic resources. They didn't say it but I picked up on it. Many in collegiate America think too much diversity is a bad thing.
While many in the college's administration scrutinized every move I made, I had become a champion for the students. Especially the young Black men and women. Ninety four percent of the faculty was Caucasian, and most of them were older white people who were quite rigid and set in their ways. Many of the minority students liked me because I was down to earth, and a friendly, approachable person. I told them my door was always open. I liked having the esteem of the students. It's glad to see that some people appreciate my work. The way I see it, as a college administrator, I am employed by the students. Making the students happy ought to be a priority for my colleagues. Within reason, of course. The students keep the colleges and universities nationwide open and in business. Yet many schools treat their students like dirt. Student well-being doesn't seem to be a priority in collegiate America. And that's a damn shame if you ask me.
I tried my best to turn the campus from a cold and austere place to a warmer and friendlier one. It was I who instituted Student Appreciation Day, a day when students and faculty could mingle and food and drinks would be served to everybody by caterers hired specifically for that purpose. A day when everyone could just relax, you know. Just chill, as the students say. Many of the faculty members were staunchly opposed to it. I decided to let the students in on my plan and they marched to the school president's office and demanded that Student Appreciation Day become part of Randall College culture. Lo and behold, they actually had their say and the faculty listened. Student Appreciation Day would take place during the second week of every semester.
