The higher education leader discusses bridging tradition with innovation while centering Black and Brown communities through strategic foundation work
Dr. Samaad Wes Keys calls himself “a Jersey tomato” with pride. The first-generation college graduate from New Jersey’s low-income housing projects now leads philanthropic initiatives that reshape higher education for underserved communities. After earning his degree from Morehouse College, Keys transformed his humble beginnings into a platform for systemic change, working with foundations to ensure institutions better serve 21st-century students.
His journey from a $12,000 household income to tripling that figure as a high school teacher earning $36,000 annually exemplifies the value proposition he champions today. Keys brings both lived experience and strategic vision to his role in philanthropic foundations, where he focuses on post-secondary institutions serving Black, Brown, Latino, Indigenous, and low-income students.
What is fundamentally broken about the current higher education system?
It’s not that things are broken. We’re not keeping pace. The institutions and structures are not keeping pace with how society is moving. You open up anything today, and you can see that it’s being influenced by AI. Just look at how AI was something we were scared to use almost two years ago to now being embedded in everything we’re doing. Are institutions of higher education keeping up with the same pace?
I think that’s where there’s a divide. The traditional norms or ways institutions have evolved are not moving at the same rate as technology evolution. That’s where you need fresh perspectives, people with energy and vibrancy to connect the dots between where we’re going and where we have been. It’s about connecting traditions and history with the future.
Current debates about higher education often focus on cost and access. What critical elements are missing?
We talk about costs, which we should continue discussing. As a first-generation college student, there was no roadmap. I didn’t know how much college costs, but I knew I didn’t want debt because growing up poor, you’re already poor, now you’re telling me to take on debt so I’ll be in the negative for the rest of my life. Cost should continue to be a factor. Access should continue to be a factor. But value needs to be a factor too, and value looks different depending on where you started from.
When I graduated from Morehouse, I became a high school teacher making $36,000 a year. For somebody who graduated from someplace other than Morehouse or with a different degree, they may have been making $65,000. For me, that $36,000 was great because I grew up only knowing my mother made $12k. I tripled my family’s income, so for me, that is value. We need to double-click into the nuances of what value means and for whom.
We need to talk about increasing social-economic standing, social capital, cultural capital. These are all necessary for a person to thrive. It’s not just about getting a degree. It’s about making sure students have well-rounded experiences so once they have this “lambskin,” they’re able to go out into different spaces and be successful.
How do you ensure your foundation work actually drives transformation rather than maintaining existing power structures?
I think historically we’ve thought that transforming means you negate the past, foundation, or culture that exists. In the work I’m leading around transformation, it’s ensuring that culture, structures, and policies actually embrace the student. For us, it’s about centering the demographics we’re trying to solve for. Strategically, in philanthropic space, my goal is to always center the student. Which students? The Black students, the brown students, the Latino students, the Indigenous students, the students from low-income backgrounds.
My grandmother reminded me when I transitioned into philanthropy that all the great things on paper sound fantastic, but if you’re doing this work and the people you’re doing it for don’t feel the impact, then what are you really doing? Another way philanthropy is doing it is by making sure that people like myself are in the spaces to inform conversations and strategy.
How do you balance the need for immediate change with long-term strategic planning?
I don’t know if we have that much time, and that’s where my impatience comes in. I do this work for the Samaad and Samaadettes who are in the pipeline, searching for a way and hoping that institutions get it right. When I went to college, there was no roadmap. I was at Morehouse for a good number of years before I realized what my classification was. That wasn’t a me problem, that was a systems problem.
That’s why I say we don’t have time. We don’t have time to wait because there are many folks like me who could fall through the wayside. That’s what makes me impatient. That’s what makes me say we have to get this right. We have to have impact.
What are the biggest barriers you’ve faced when trying to implement change?
The biggest thing is I wish I had money. I don’t have money. I’m spending somebody else’s money, so you have to be mindful when you’re doing that. You have limited resources and want maximum impact.
I think the other challenge is that there’s so much to learn from historically disenfranchised or disadvantaged communities. The culture always comes for us, always gets our goods. But we have to figure out how to do it in a way that elevates those institutions. Right now, we see decline in enrollment, but we also see increase in enrollment at historically Black colleges and universities. That’s because they have something. We aren’t elevating what we have. We aren’t elevating our je ne sais quoi. What does it mean to thrive at an HBCU in a way that shows why people are choosing to attend HBCUs?
We’re living in an interesting time and space. How do you communicate that rising the tide of this group of individuals actually helps uplift the community when we’re kind of in a muted space? I think it requires a different type of leader.
Where can people find you and follow your work?
I have a podcast called the A Sip with Samaad podcast, and you can check us out on YouTube. That’s where we post much of our content. The podcast really followed me over the years. It was like an identity crisis project because I was turning 40, and it was about how to mesh all these different personas I created in my life. It started to turn into conversations about what’s happening in higher education, society, or as a parent and new dad.
You can follow me on Facebook at Samaad Wes Keys and Instagram @i.am.samaad. Definitely follow the podcast. I’m serious about that.