“‘Oh my god is that a black card?’ I turned around and replied, ‘Why yes, but I prefer the term ‘African American Express’.”
In his song “Last Call,” Kanye West praises the American Express Centurion Card (also known as the “Black Card”), the invitation only, limitless credit card that has taken the nation’s imagination by storm.
While Cambridge may not be Rodeo Drive, Kanye’s influence has extended within Harvard’s ivy-clad walls. This year for the first time, members of Harvard’s Black Students Association (BSA) carry, as proof of membership, a sleek status symbol, Harvard’s own version of the Centurion Card: the Black Card.
“As a black community, we decided to go to a designer and get our membership cards designed professionally,” says BSA President Jason C. B. Lee ’08. For many members, the cards show that the BSA is a force to be reckoned with.
“For a lot of student organizations, you just think, oh, it’s just a club; all they have is a paper card. The BSA is really serious about everything they do; there’s a standard that shows,” says Jarell L. Lee ’10, the social chair for the Freshmen Black Table, a subset of the BSA. According to BSA leadership, the Black Card asserts the BSA’s rising professionalism.
“We’re leaders in the black community; just by being at Harvard, there are high expectations, and we have to try and present a comprehensive image,” says Sarah Lockridge-Steckel ’09, the alumni representative and public relations chair of the organization. “We want to show that we can go above and beyond.”
Zukerman Professor of Sociology Mary C. Waters understands the drive for the BSA image boost.
“I think that any organization of African Americans is going to be aware of negative stereotypes of black Americans as not being middle class or highly educated or high-income, although that’s not true at all,” she says. “People who are at Harvard, who are very highly accomplished, and facing very successful careers would want to counter that stereotype…they’re saying ‘we’ve arrived.’”
However, the BSA also works on giving a voice to the black community outside of Harvard. “As black people at Harvard, whether we like it or not, we are leaders. We try to work together to represent our people all across the world,” says Lockridge-Steckel.
Lee says that one of BSA’s most important roles is as “an intermediary between the black community” and students at Harvard. In talking about the black community, the BSA isn’t just thinking within the confines of the Square. This year, the association is focusing on reaching beyond Harvard’s campus by building its alumni relationships, developing public service programs in the underprivileged areas of Boston, and addressing issues in America and Africa that affect the world’s black community.
In light of the BSA’s commitment to its widespread constituents, it is questionable whether a card that plays on the idea of exclusivity is really the best mascot for a club that wants to represent an entire ethnic group. The card, by emulating the black American Express card, alludes to a lifestyle that might one day be attainable for some BSA members, but is out of the reach of the greater population the BSA claims to represent.
“The subliminal message it sends...as if we’re one of the most prestigious members of the world,” Jarell L. Lee ’10 says.
This inherent message of exclusivity is why other student groups are not jumping on the Black Card bandwagon.
“We try not to create an image,” Co-President of the South Asian Association Mayuri N. Shah ’08 says. “In creating an image we may run the risk of alienating people who don’t necessarily fit.”
Lee of the BSA, however, does not associate image creation with exclusivity. Instead, he views it as a necessary step in furthering the BSA’s goals.
“We want our image to be one of professionalism and success and that we can accomplish many things and bring attention to many issues,” he says. “It’s kind of an image that regardless of interest that we hope that everyone will buy in to—because we’re black students all those things will be expected of us.”
Waters sees the Black Card not as a symbol of exclusivity but as a natural progression in the BSA’s assertion of identity. “It’s hard for them; it’s always a burden to have to represent your race. No matter what you do you’re going to be criticized for not representing whole range. They’re making more visible this successful middle class image, and that’s fine,” she says. “That’s who they are.”