LYNN EUSAN:

Fifty years later, in the fall of 2018, Eusan’s presence would reverberate again on the UH campus when state and federal approval was granted for the University to offer a bachelor of arts in African American studies, the program she helped create. The first degree is expected to be conferred in Spring 2019.

“That’s legacy and impact,” said James Conyers, current director of the African American Studies program. “You have people who come through different historical periods of time and they have an interest in raising different types of questions to have impact, not for popularity, but for equity and once you start raising those questions about disparity you choose a different path.”

And so as time was choosing Eusan, she was choosing her path.  

But first, the ‘60s

In the sixties,  the majority of UH students—and all the faculty— were white. UH began admitting black students in 1962.

“Integrating was the right thing to do. However, we did not want a Mississippi or Alabama on our hands. We decided to integrate in the summer when there weren’t as many students on campus. We also had a local media blackout for a week so as not to publicize the event,” Philip G. Hoffman, UH president from 1961 to 1977, recounts in the book "Houston Cougars in the 1960s: Death Threats, the Veer Offense, and the Game of the Century." 

Six years later, Eusan’s moment had arrived. A black homecoming queen had swept to victory, largely due to efforts of those who banded together and had felt disenfranchised for the school’s first 41 years.   

These were “students who no longer wanted to be second or third string and wanted their own cultural identity recognized and respected,” said Gene Locke from East Texas, one of the first African-American students at UH. Locke  would become one of Eusan’s dear friends. He would also become an attorney with a storied career including terms as Houston City Attorney and Harris County Commissioner.

He recalls Eusan’s moment, her ascension to homecoming queen, as a convergence of forces. “All of a sudden the African American civil rights movement was full force, followed by a black nationalist movement on the part of African Americans, the plight of women was now front and center and the demand for rights for women, there was a Hispanic movement, then called the Chicano movement, that would not be denied,” Locke said.

Locke, Eusan and the handful of black students on campus, were on the frontlines of change on campus in the mid 60’s and they ran her campaign with political furor, sidestepping the role as a mere social distinction. For Eusan, as one of the first civil rights advocates on campus, it was the platform she needed to become a voice for change.

In their endorsement of the candidate, the Daily Cougar summed up, “Lynn’s election to this honored position will be a symbol representing UH’s defiance of the wall of prejudice, and an indication that educated Americans are moving into a new era of enlightenment.”

As election night approached, Eusan sensed a victory of a different sort, telling the Houston Chronicle: “This was the first time black students on the campus have banded together and really been effective against overwhelming odds.”

When the big night came, Locke was there, on the floor of the historic Houston Astrodome, as Eusan won the title, beating five white candidates.

“The shock that she was actually named, it was fantastic,” said Locke.

With many interests, Eusan wasn’t to be summed up. She was by turns: Journalist, homecoming queen, activist, advocate, organizer, fundraiser, marching band member and sorority girl.

While she was a charter member of Alpha Kappa Alpha, one of the university’s first black sororities, she was also arrested twice for demonstrating, a common occurrence – maybe even a badge of honor - during the era.

Then came that one title no one asks for, the one that still sends shockwaves:

Murder victim.

In September 1971, just a month shy of Lynn’s 24th birthday, she was murdered. All these years later, the tragedy is no easier to comprehend.

“It was a shock. It still is a shock,” said Locke. “When the word came back we were just in total disbelief, tragic, very sad.”