Age: Would not say | Hometown: Juaben, Ghana
When you stumble into a party for Duke engineering professors, this is how you'll be able to pick Fred Boadu out of the crowd: He'll be the only one who responds to the name Fred. He'll also be the only one who can tell you about his experiences at multiple Canadian graduate schools. He'll for certain be the only one who can tell you anything about growing up in Ghana. And, oh yeah, he'll be the only black man in the bunch.
Boadu is one of two black members of the Pratt faculty. Until electrical engineering professor Adrienne Stiff-Roberts was hired two years ago, Boadu was the one and only. "It's just difficult to get black faculty," he says. "These are the numbers."
In his unique position, Boadu has become something of a mentor for Duke students and faculty alike. "If a black student has a problem," Boadu says, "he might come all the way to me because he identifies me as a black faculty member.. It's a natural tendency."
Boadu left Ghana for the first time in 1984 after completing his undergraduate work, and moved to Montreal to continue his studies in Applied Geophysics at McGill University. Though the cultural adjustment was significant, he did not fully recognize the magnitude of race issues until he moved to Atlanta to attend Georgia Tech several years later. "In Canada, there aren't the big black/white/race issues like there are here. it's not in the news like here-'race, race, race,'" he says. "But once you enter the U.S., you see that it's very glaring."
At Georgia Tech, Boadu found that the engineering departments worked deliberately to blend black and white students in the classroom. Through minority outreach programs, Georgia Tech was able to create a particularly comfortable environment for its black students-an effort that, despite its immediate benefits, kept Boadu somewhat sheltered from racial tensions off campus.
It wasn't until Boadu was hired as an assistant professor at Duke in 1994-one month after receiving his Ph.D.-that he began to understand fully the extent of racism. "You hear of it, but I didn't study American history," he says. "In Canada, it wasn't an issue, so you still don't think of it until you come to the United States."
In 1996, Boadu received a phone call from individuals who identified themselves as members of the Ku Klux Klan. They threatened to "get" him and kill him. "I nearly left Duke," Boadu says. "Fortunately, I had some friends who instilled a sense of hope in me."
In the succeeding ten years, Boadu has been at the center of "at least four" other racial incidents, but his feeling toward the environment is mixed with positive sentiments. "At one time, you think [being black at Duke and in Durham] is easy, and then you come back, and think it's not easy. You go back and forth-just with the evolution of events."
Boadu's experiences have elevated him to a natural position of strength and authority, a figure to whom students and faculty can go for comfort and advice "not just in civil engineering, but in the University as a whole. not only in academics, but in the cultural environment."
Currently, Boadu is working hard to encourage one of his undergraduates to take advantage of grant opportunities for minorities during the summer.
You might wonder why Boadu would invest so much time and energy into helping a one of his black civil engineering students.
Well, that's easy. She's the only one.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.