There was a general murmur of agreement. Hastings was one of Chelsea’s most prominent alumni. An unremarkable student, he had gone on to develop a popular Internet search engine called Howl (after the Allen Ginsberg poem, which he greatly admired). It had made him wildly wealthy. Fox went on.

“Well, Hastings has taken a great interest in matters of diversity—perhaps because his wife is black—I don’t know. In any event, he’s buying a home on the East Coast, and not long after my trip to New Haven with Jerry, he expressed an interest in making a substantial gift to the school—very substantial—but only if we improve our numbers in this area.” He paused. “I think you all know about our current fiscal crunch. Enrollment and endowment are slipping. We’re up against it. Hastings’s gift is a much needed one—a gift I can’t pass up.”

Fox’s frankness stunned the room into silence. There had been much talk of late of the school’s dire financial straits, but to pin our hopes so explicitly on one man and his one cause—I hardly knew what to say. Jana was the first to speak.

“So you’re only doing this to get money?” she said, her voice quavering slightly.

“No,” Fox said levelly. “Not only. But I thought it best to be utterly candid at the outset. I would be lying if I didn’t say that Hastings’s offer has lit a fire under me on this issue. It’s one we should have addressed long ago.”

“You got that right,” said Jana a bit sarcastically.

Fox looked at her coolly. “Thanks for your vote of confidence. Now if I could hear some concrete suggestions on how we should go about making this much needed change?”

Jana spoke again, though she still sounded a little angry. “One thing that might help with the issue is a little old-fashioned outreach. In my time here, which is admittedly rather short, I haven’t had a good sense of us sending the black students we do have out into their communities. With some faculty, of course. Has that been tried? It seems an obvious first step.”

Fox looked at me evenly. “We have done that in the past,” he said, his voice level. “But it’s been a number of years since we put a great deal of effort into recruitment with the faculty.” His eyes never left my face. At that moment, I knew I was to be involved in any future recruitment plan—regardless of what my feelings about it might be.

“We did try it several years ago,” I said, my voice tinny in my own ears. “It was not entirely successful, but I am convinced—I should say, Mr. Fox has convinced me—that if we redouble our efforts, they might bear more fruit in the future.” I smiled slightly.