By Courtney Wilson, Senior Business Administration Scholar

Dr. John Kinard made history long before I understood what that meant. A Livingstone College graduate and the founding director of the Anacostia Neighborhood Museum, he became the first African American to serve as director of a Smithsonian Museum at just 31 years old. His leadership helped reshape how Black communities were represented and valued within national institutions.

He passed away before I was born. My mother was only twelve when she lost her father. Although I have never met him, I have grown up surrounded by his influence. I came to know him not through my own memories, but through stories, photographs, and the lasting impact of his work.

In my family, Livingstone has always represented legacy and pride. I began my college journey at a large HBCU, but I struggled there personally and medically, and as a result, academically. For the first time, I felt unsure of myself. Everything I had planned for myself felt like it was falling apart.

What I later realized is that my grandfather once stood at a similar crossroad. Before transferring to Livingstone, he attended Howard University for a semester. But he realized it was too large for him. He wanted something more personal; a place where he could grow, build community, and truly be seen. In many ways, my decision mirrored his. Livingstone became that place for both of us.

My older brother Kameron, who had recently graduated from Livingstone, encouraged me to take that leap. He believed it would be a better fit for me. Now, as a senior, I can say I fully believe he was right.

Since transferring, I have found confidence again. I have earned several scholarships and become actively involved on campus through organizations like Campus Ministries, the National Association for Black Accountants, Strada Education Foundation, and the National Council of Negro Women. In addition to that, I finished my junior year with a 3.8 GPA, something I am incredibly proud of. This year, I was honored to be crowned Miss Campus Ministries and Miss Strada Education Foundation. I have also had

opportunities to travel for professional development, including a trip to Charlotte with Deloitte and an upcoming experience to Dallas, Texas with Strada. Experiences like these have opened my eyes to what’s possible beyond campus and have helped me see myself in spaces I once only dreamed about.

Growing up, visits to campus were always meaningful. My family would walk past our photo displayed on campus, and look for my grandmother, grandfather, aunts, and my mother’s names engraved in the bricks near the Bear. Even now, my family and family friends continue to share stories about their time here.

At Livingstone, my grandfather thrived. He played football, immersed himself in campus life, and was actively involved in the Capitol Theatre Sit-In, continuing his fight for justice during the Civil Rights era while still a student. After graduating in 1960, he went on to study at Hood Theological Seminary. While there, he served as an assistant football coach for Livingstone and as a dorm director, while also competing in tennis and basketball for the Hood Jacks.

One of my favorite family stories is my grandfather’s first date with my grandmother, Marjorie. After church at Morris Chapel AME Zion, he asked my grandmother if she could walk with him to get ice cream at the Dairy Queen near the school. Technically, students weren’t supposed to leave campus like that, but since he had already graduated and was studying at Hood, he decided he could bend the rules just a little. They walked, talked, shared ice cream, and spent the rest of the day together. From that moment on, they were inseparable. Each time I pass that Dairy Queen, I feel connected to a piece of their beginning.

But Livingstone shaped more than just their love story; it shaped his life’s purpose.

Before completing seminary, he volunteered on projects in Africa, helping to build schools and lead development programs. Later in Washington, D.C., he organized programs that gave underserved communities a voice. Those experiences laid the foundation for the Anacostia Neighborhood Museum, a museum created for and with the community, where history was not just displayed but used as a tool for empowerment.

When he was appointed director at 31, it was groundbreaking. The museum he founded in 1967 centered on Black History, culture, and everyday community life at a time when those stories were rarely recognized by major institutions.

As a child, I remember visiting the museum and wondering why so much of that history was missing in my textbooks. Now, as a student at Livingstone, I understand the weight of what he built. Learning about his journey no longer feels distant; it feels personal. It pushes me to think about the impact that I want to make.

His influence continues throughout my family. My Aunt Sarah has traveled extensively across Africa, studying history firsthand. My Aunt Joy spent over 20 years with the National Park Service and now works at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History as Chair of the Department of Political History. In 2017, just two days after the 50-year anniversary of the Anacostia Neighborhood Museum’s opening, she published a book honoring my grandfather: The Man, The Movement, The Museum: The Journey of John R. Kinard as the First African American Director of a Smithsonian Institution Museum.

My mother carries that legacy through family, raising five children and adopting three more, teaching us our history, and showing us how to walk in purpose. My brother carries it through Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, Inc. (which my grandfather was also a member of), and I hope to continue his legacy by attending Hood Theological Seminary.

Sharing a campus with my grandfather is not simply a coincidence; it is a continuation. Walking these grounds reminds me that I am part of something larger than myself.

I never met him, yet I encounter pieces of him every day — in the stories my family tells, in the museum he built, and in the opportunities I’ve been given here. Just as he once carried the lessons of Livingstone into the world, I plan to do the same.