By Caleb Corkery

Attending convocation at a historically Black college or university, you’re likely to experience eloquent prayers, well-trained singers and rousing speeches imbued with cultural pride — all trademark performances of the HBCU tradition.

You may also see attendant lines of robed faculty and administrators, led by flags and a scepter. At the HBCU where I taught for 10 years, the community gathered this way five times a year.

About six years ago, the school invited author J. California Cooper to speak.

The dean introduced her as an important African-American contributor to contemporary letters, distinguishing her with the academic language he would use to extol any invited guest. However, Ms. Cooper never assumed that persona. Wearing jeans and a leather vest, she walked the edge of the stage talking with the students about their families, their relationships, their dreams. She hit on many of the themes we usually heard from behind the podium, but she spoke in a way they could identify with. She was “real,” and the students cheered and clapped and laughed throughout.

When the dean stood up for his closing comments, he couldn’t bring himself to take the position behind the podium; instead, he stood next to it and put down his prepared comments. Extemporaneously, he tried to bridge the time-honored world of academic respectability and the ubiquitous pressure of popular culture to “keep it real.”

The students left quoting Cooper.

We all know that academic and popular culture collide regularly on our campuses. But the forces depicted above reveal fundamental differences in the way our students have been educated. And I’m not just talking about school. The neighbor, uncle, minister, parent or pop star they learn communication skills from shape how well students will fit into the academic tradition.