Earl Richardson, a towering figure in the world of higher education and a steadfast advocate for historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs), passed away at age 81, his death announced by Morgan State University on Saturday, September 13, 2025. Richardson’s life and legacy are inextricably linked to a 15-year legal battle that reshaped the landscape for Black colleges in Maryland and cast a national spotlight on enduring funding disparities faced by HBCUs across the United States.
Richardson’s journey as a transformative leader began when he took the helm at Morgan State University in Baltimore in 1984, a position he would hold until 2010. During his tenure, he encountered the harsh reality of limited resources—stretching every dollar from the state to keep classrooms open, dormitories functioning, and academic programs afloat. But Richardson was not content to simply make do. As described by a colleague, he was "armed with history," and that deep knowledge would soon become a powerful tool for change.
The roots of Richardson’s most significant battle can be traced back to 1990, when Morgan State students, frustrated by rundown classrooms, leaky roofs, and outdated science labs, staged a dramatic protest. For six days, they occupied the university’s administration building. Edwin Johnson, one of the student leaders at the time, recalled, "We originally were protesting against Morgan's administration, including Richardson." But as the students dug deeper, they realized the true source of their woes was not the university leadership, but the state government in Annapolis, which controlled the purse strings.
Richardson, drawing on his own experiences in civil rights demonstrations as a student, subtly steered the protestors toward this realization. The protest culminated in a remarkable 34-mile march to Annapolis, where students demanded an audience with the governor. Johnson, now the university’s historian and special assistant to the provost, credits Richardson’s guidance with helping the students identify the real obstacles to progress. That march, and the clarity it brought, laid the groundwork for what would become a historic legal challenge.
Because Richardson was a state employee, he could not directly sue Maryland. Instead, a coalition of students and alumni—the Coalition for Equity and Excellence in Maryland Higher Education Inc.—took up the fight. But make no mistake, as David Burton, a Morgan State alumnus and plaintiff in the case, told NPR, Richardson was the "visionary behind the lawsuit." Burton described Richardson as "a force that the state could not reckon with because of his institutional knowledge," adding, "He was armed with history. Dr. Richardson knew where the skeletons were."
The lawsuit, filed in 2006, alleged that Maryland had long underfunded its Black colleges and further disadvantaged them by creating and expanding similar programs at nearby majority-white institutions. The case drew comparisons to Brown v. Board of Education, the Supreme Court decision that tackled racial disparities in K-12 education. But, as Burton pointed out, this case elevated those issues to the realm of higher education, where funding gaps had quietly persisted for decades.
During the trial, Richardson played a crucial role as an expert witness. State attorneys, perhaps recognizing the threat his testimony posed, objected to his presence in the courtroom and asked the judge to remove him. But Richardson stayed, providing the kind of historical detail that, as Jon Greenbaum, then chief counsel of the Lawyer's Committee for Civil Rights Under Law, said, "became critical to the arguments made by the lawyers representing the plaintiffs." Greenbaum emphasized that "because this was really a desegregation case," Richardson’s expertise was indispensable.
After years of legal wrangling, the case reached a landmark conclusion in 2021. The state of Maryland agreed to provide $577 million in supplemental funding over a decade to four of its HBCUs—an unprecedented financial commitment that acknowledged the long history of inequity. The victory was not just about money. It was a validation of Richardson’s vision and persistence, and a beacon of hope for similar institutions nationwide.
The impact of Richardson’s leadership and the lawsuit’s outcome was immediately felt at Morgan State. The influx of resources helped launch what is now known as "Morgan’s Renaissance"—or, as some affectionately call it, "Richardson’s Renaissance." During his presidency, the university saw its enrollment double, the campus expand with new buildings, and the addition of new schools, including a school of architecture and a school of social work. The transformation was so profound that it became a model for what targeted investment and visionary leadership could achieve in higher education.
Richardson’s influence extended far beyond Morgan State’s gates. His work shone a harsh light on the broader funding disparities plaguing HBCUs across the country. Unlike many predominantly white institutions, HBCUs have historically relied more heavily on federal, state, and local funding—sources that have been subject to budget cuts and shifting political winds. A study cited by NPR noted that HBCUs receive a higher percentage of their revenue from tuition and less from private gifts and grants compared to other universities, making them particularly vulnerable to public funding shortfalls.
Richardson articulated the stakes of this struggle in 2008, when he testified before the U.S. House of Representatives. He told lawmakers, "We can make them the scientists and the engineers and the teachers and the professors — all of those things. But only if we can have our institutions develop to a level of comparability and parity so that we are as competitive as other institutions." Richardson’s words underscored the dual mission of HBCUs: to nurture the most talented Black students and to open doors for those who might otherwise never consider, or afford, college.
The historic settlement in Maryland did more than right past wrongs. It set a precedent and offered a roadmap for other states grappling with similar legacies of educational inequity. Yet, as the nation continues to debate how best to support its HBCUs, Richardson’s example looms large—a reminder that real change is possible when history, vision, and persistence meet.
Richardson’s passing marks the end of an era, but the seeds he planted continue to bear fruit. Morgan State’s thriving campus, the energized student body, and the new academic programs all stand as living testaments to his leadership. As debates over educational equity rage on, the story of Earl Richardson and the fight for HBCU funding serves as both a cautionary tale and an inspiration. The struggle for parity in higher education is far from over, but thanks to Richardson, the path forward is a little clearer—and a lot more hopeful.
