Since 1887, Florida A&M University in Tallahassee has stood as a beacon of excellence and resilience, nurturing generations of Black scholars and leaders who have shaped this country. That 138-year legacy isn’t just worth honoring, but it’s also worth protecting.
I’m a proud alumnus of FAMU and, thus, watched the recent selection of Marva Johnson as the university’s new president with great interest. Many people who love the university fall along a spectrum of emotions regarding the selection process and the selection of Johnson, as she does not have experience in higher education and is a political ally of Gov. Ron DeSantis. Others have complained that the process wasn’t sufficiently transparent. And before Johnson was picked, some alumni reportedly threatened to stop supporting FAMU financially if she were selected.
Some alumni reportedly threatened to stop supporting FAMU financially.
For many, the outpouring of concern and scrutiny surrounding FAMU’s new president stem not from animosity, but from a place of profound love for the institution. When an entity holds such a significant place in hearts, every decision, every transition, is met with intense passion. This vocal engagement is not necessarily a sign of discord, but rather a powerful testament to the deep-seated affection and ownership the FAMU family feels. It is a reflection of how deeply this university resonates within the lives of its alumni, students, faculty and supporters.
The frustration is also undoubtedly tied to the state’s political climate in recent years. Too often, Florida has blurred the line between governance and interference — especially in the realm of higher education as Gov. DeSantis has installed political allies at the helm of institutions across the state, including New College of Florida and Florida International University. It is our hope and our expectation that FAMU remains focused on what matters most: its students, its mission and its independence.
The strength and integrity of FAMU, like all institutions of higher learning, rely on its ability to operate free from undue political pressures, allowing it to prioritize academic excellence and the holistic development of its students. At the end of the day, political agendas should not drive FAMU’s future.
It’s incumbent upon all of us who care about FAMU to use this moment as a time to recommit to safeguarding it. Holding leadership accountable and offering support aren’t opposing ideas — they are two sides of responsible stewardship. This is not the time to disengage, divide or surrender. It’s time to strategize and double down on our commitment to where we go from here.
Regardless of how we arrived here, the stakes are too high to lose focus. If the president fails, the university fails. And FAMU cannot afford to fail — not for the more than 13,000 students who walk that campus every day, and not for the future generations who deserve the same opportunities we had.
The stakes are too high to lose focus. If the president fails, the university fails.
As a state lawmaker, my priority is ensuring our historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) receive the resources and funding they need, particularly in the face of uncertainty around federal funding and decades of being chronically underfunded. Nationwide, HBCUs are worried about survival, only increasing the importance of what happens at the state level.









