Orangeburg’s Legacy Lives: Protest, Power, and the Price of Survival at SC State
- Javar Juarez
- 1 hour ago
- 6 min read
Evette Speech Rescinded After Student Uprising
By Javar Juarez | CUBNSC | Politics
Orangeburg, S.C. - The controversy surrounding South Carolina Lt. Gov. Pamela Evette has reached a turning point.
Following student protests that began on Tuesday, April 28, 2026, Evette’s commencement speech at South Carolina State University has officially been rescinded, with university leadership citing concerns over student safety.
What began as a protest quickly evolved into a broader confrontation over politics, power, and the role of leadership at one of South Carolina’s most historic HBCUs.
Evette, who has built her political brand opposing Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiatives, dismissed the students as “woke mobs,” doubling down on rhetoric aligned with Trump-era conservatism. But the response from students made one thing clear.
They were not going to be silent.
A Legacy Rooted in Resistance
Student protest in Orangeburg is not new.
It is tradition.
Roughly 100 students gathered in opposition to Evette as a commencement speaker, rejecting what they view as anti-Black rhetoric and political posturing.
Their actions place them firmly within a historic lineage of student activism that has defined South Carolina State University and its neighboring institution, Claflin University.
That lineage includes one of the most tragic and overlooked events in American history.
The Orangeburg Massacre: The Aftermath Still Matters
On February 8, 1968, students protesting segregation at the All-Star Triangle Bowling Lanes were met with gunfire from South Carolina Highway Patrol officers near the campus of South Carolina State College.
Three young Black men were killed. Twenty-eight were wounded.
But the true weight of the Orangeburg Massacre lies in what came after.
No officers were convicted. Instead, civil rights activist Cleveland Sellers was imprisoned, shifting blame onto the very people demanding justice.
For decades, the state resisted accountability. Survivors were discredited. The truth was buried beneath political convenience.
It took more than 30 years for South Carolina to issue a formal apology.
That history is not distant. It is instructive.
It tells students in 2026 that when they raise their voices, they are stepping into a legacy where power has not always protected them, and institutions have not always stood with them.
Survival vs. Principle
Those tensions were not theoretical. They were laid bare during a publicly streamed South Carolina State Board of Trustees meeting, where Chairman Douglas Gantt addressed the controversy directly—and forcefully.
Gantt attempted to frame the moment as a lesson in exposure and civic reality.
“It’s good to hear from everybody,” he said, encouraging students to engage with differing viewpoints.
But that framing did not match the gravity of what followed.
Gantt quickly shifted from principle to power.
He reminded the public that South Carolina State is a state-funded institution, dependent on a General Assembly where Republicans hold overwhelming control.
He laid out the numbers. The votes. The reality.
And then he made his position unmistakably clear.
“I’m here to coerce the majority vote to give this institution everything that it needs,” Gantt stated.
He doubled down on that message, emphasizing that leadership is expected to walk into any room—regardless of politics, race, or ideology—to secure funding, because the institution cannot afford to alienate those who control its financial future.
At another point, Gantt made clear where accountability, in his view, should rest.
“Put it on the chair,” he said, taking ownership of the decisions and shielding President Dr. Alexander Conyers from criticism.
But in doing so, he also drew a line.
Students, he acknowledged, “have every right to protest.” Yet in the same breath, he emphasized that “life happens when they leave here,” signaling that the realities of power will not bend to protest alone.
That tension—between protest and power—defined the moment.
To some, Gantt’s remarks reflected hard truth: that institutions like South Carolina State must navigate a political system that controls their survival.
To others, it sounded like something else entirely.
A warning.
That access to resources comes with expectations. That resistance has limits. And that even at an HBCU, the boundaries of dissent may be shaped by those who hold the purse strings.
Students Understand the System—They’re Challenging It
There is a misconception that students do not understand how power works.
They do.
They understand funding pipelines. They understand political leverage. What they are questioning is whether those realities should come at the expense of their voice, their values, and their future.
This is not a new conflict.
From the Rock Hill Nine’s “Jail, No Bail” strategy to the Columbia sit-ins led by Rev. Simon Bouie, Black students in South Carolina have always been told to be patient, to be strategic, to wait.
History shows that change did not come from waiting.
It came from pressure.
A Community Responsibility, Not Just an Institutional One
If there is one lesson that continues to emerge, it is this:
South Carolina has rarely done right by Black institutions without being pushed to do so.
That reality places responsibility not just on leadership, but on the broader Black community.
If institutions like South Carolina State are forced into political compromise to survive, then the question becomes:
Where is the collective investment?
Where is the collective protection?
Where is the sustained support that allows these institutions to operate from strength rather than dependency?
What Happens Next
The decision to rescind Evette’s speech may have de-escalated immediate tensions, but it has opened a deeper conversation about leadership, accountability, and alignment.
Students have spoken.
Leadership has responded.
But the underlying issues remain.
South Carolina State is not just navigating a controversy.
It is navigating history.
And history, in Orangeburg, has never been neutral.
This moment is bigger than a commencement speaker.
It is about power.
It is about survival.
And it is about whether institutions built to serve Black students can do so without compromise.
Across the state, calls are growing louder for the community to stand with the students.
In South Carolina, history makes that call unmistakable.
This is not just support. It is necessity.