Katrina Closed Their HBCU. So This Professor Opened Doors

In the Christmas 2006 episode of “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” — a one-season wonder depicting behind-the-scenes life on a Saturday Night Live-style comedy show — the fictional show’s house band deliberately called in sick so that a group of New Orleans musicians fleeing Hurricane Katrina could fill in, collect their salaries and have holiday money for their families.

The episode could have been inspired by a similar kindness which occurred on the campus of Coppin State University in Baltimore, Maryland, after the storm destroyed the city 20 years ago. 

That’s when Garey Hyatt, chair of Coppin’s the Department of Visual & Performing Arts — who had just been hired from Dillard University, an HBCU in New Orleans and moved to Baltimore just days before Katrina slammed into the city — opened Coppin’s doors to Dillard students so the deadly storm would not interrupt their education. 

It was almost as if the Dillard students, and Hyatt, were the beneficiaries of divine intervention.

‘It Was a God Thing’

Safely ensconced in Baltimore, with the storm ravaging his former home, Hyatt said he prayed, asking God if he could bring some of his Dillard students to Baltimore. The answer came in the form of help he received from Coppin staff — specifically, Michelle Gross in the school’s admissions department, Val Lyles in enrollment, provost Sadie Gregory and Margaret Turner, Coppin’s registrar.

But Hyatt still gives credit to the Almighty: ”This wasn’t a Gary thing; it was a God thing,” he says. “He gave me the right people to be able to do it, and they were so compassionate about the students.”

Hyatt contacted as many of his New Orleans students as he could find. Five came to Coppin with a waiver allowing them to pay in-state tuition. Four graduated, including Alisa Brock and Riga Watkins.

Brock runs a business called Drama MaMa in Savage, Maryland at Thurgood Marshall Baltimore-Washington International Airport, making and selling customized journals. She even provides an experience for her customers called Build-A-Journal. 

But two decades ago she was a community college student trying to find her way out of New Orleans as Katrina bore down on the city, wondering how she’d finish her education. 

Forging Her Own Path

Having participated and won debate competitions in high school, her former teacher, Andrea Watson, introduced her to Hyatt and told him, “‘We’ve got to get this girl in college,’” Brock said. 

“Dr. Hyatt called me. He said, ‘Hey, daughter — you know there’s a presidential scholarship [at Coppin State] where they’ll let you into college.’” 

“That was my opportunity to forge my own path and figure out what I was gonna do with me,” she says. “The trippy part is that my mom told me that I was in Baltimore by divine design,” Brock said. “She was like, ‘You’re supposed to be in Baltimore because too much happened that made it so easy to come.’”

After Coppin, Brock pursued the passions that always made her feel alive: books, writing and the theater. Along with her business designing custom journals and holding writing workshops, Brock started a theater company to help aspiring screenwriters and playwrights workshop and develop plays and scripts. 

In between, she wrote a one-woman show that she performed in Baltimore, Washington, D.C., Philadelphia and New York City, among other places. 

In the years since she found safe haven in Baltimore, Brock says, she has reordered her values. She couldn’t get back to the house and her belongings, both of which were lost in the storm. But “none of the stuff even closely matters as much as the people in your life,” she says. 

“I miss my grandmother. I miss the guy who used to sing up and down my block when I was growing up. Those are the things that really matter. But the biggest lesson I learned from Katrina is that you can always start over.”

Starting Over, Growing Up

By contrast, Watkins was a student at Dillard when Katrina interrupted her life. While she acknowledges she was fortunate — a divine hand kept her safe during the storm, then guided her to Coppin — it didn’t mean she was OK. 

” I was angry,” she says. “When I got to Baltimore, I didn’t realize my interactions with people were so abrasive. [But] I didn’t know when I’d be able to go back home, or if I could ever go back or even visit. I didn’t know what was left of the house that I grew up in. And I was young — I was 20. I’d never lived that far away from home and I was by myself.”

The people at Coppin, she says, were very understanding about the stress she was feeling and  were patient with her. 

“I met some very kind, nice people on campus who I’m still friends with today,” she says. “I’d always heard that people up north are mean, but I didn’t experience that. Everybody was nice to me and wanted to help me. So for me, Baltimore was just a new city of learning.”

Having earned her degree from Coppin, Watkins returned to New Orleans, where she teaches theater arts. She gives Baltimore credit for “making me an adult.” 

The experience ”grew me up a lot,” she says. “I was living alone in a state with no family. I wound up giving birth to my daughter with no family around. I came home with a degree and a daughter, so I was proud of myself for finishing. But it was really just the beginning.”

This post was originally published on Word In Black on August 28, 2025.