Manouchka Poinson '03, right, Ezra Wube and Alyssa Brown '02 prepare for an Afrocentric fashion show last March. Photo by Philip Scalia

Beattie, who formerly worked in the Boston public schools, says it is easier to respond when race issues are acknowledged. "If I went to a hostile neighborhood I knew what to expect," he says. "But coming here, it is not clear. They will say 'There is no race problem. If there is any, it is not really that bad.' That is why [minority] students have this terrible burden -- because there is no major problem, and if there is a problem it is not that bad and it is treated with casualness. Well, it is a major problem."

Even Leitzel acknowledges the issue. When asked if UNH is a welcoming place, she qualifies her answer. "Not for everyone," she says. "But it is quite a contrast to when I came."

No doubt this sense that not everyone is welcome contributes to a recurrent theme: many minority students interviewed for this story had seriously considered or tried unsuccessfully to transfer out. Several plan to study abroad. One is going to Howard University, a historically black college, as part of an exchange next year.

Chanda Corbett, the African American staff psychologist hired this year, says minority students speak to her about loneliness and isolation. "This is what I hear: 'I hate it here. I hate the people here. People are uninviting.' Even some of the faculty are not very wise [about how to deal with classroom dynamics]." While Corbett tends to see students who are unhappy or are struggling, she hears over and over about classroom practices that are isolating. "Teachers say, 'Break up into groups of three.' Well, there is one minority student in the class and that person is left out."

Carol Tonge, coordinator of the Connect program, says three to five minority students stop by her office each day, sometimes just to chat, but other times to blow off steam or discuss troubles. She says minority students talk about the effort it takes just to survive under a constant barrage of uncomfortable glances, comments, expectations. "If there is something about black or Latino or race [in class discussion], they get the looks: 'You're the black one, we're talking about you now.'"

Nonetheless, Tonge says that just being able to talk with someone about these feelings is making a difference this year. For the first time in a long while, she sees optimism. "Over the past years we have worried about retention a great deal. You wonder how many people you will see returning in the fall," she says. "This year, I think we will have most of the students back."

Marjorie Narcisse, the sophomore who participated in the fashion show, feels efforts at promoting diversity are helping, but says she is still dogged by a level of discomfort that reached fever pitch last academic year.

A native of Haiti, Narcisse found herself as a freshman attracted by the natural beauty of the campus and of New Hampshire. "When I came here, it was gorgeous," she recalls, speaking one day at the OMSA office. "I fell in love with the setting."

She quickly made friends with several white students in her dorm. But after she participated in the Black Student Union sit-in, she was shunned. "When I entered a room, they would exit," she says. "When I would go into the shower, they would leave. Comments were being made that black students on campus were not intelligent and were only here to fill a quota. That made me feel really, really bad. I spent the second half of the semester in my room with the door locked."

Richmond, the junior who organized the fashion show and is president of the Diversity Support Coalition, an umbrella group of the minority student organizations, has made a college career of working for a change in attitude on campus. Unhappy as a freshman, Richmond transferred to Syracuse University in the second semester of her sophomore year, but then decided to return to UNH two weeks later specifically to work for campus diversity. She helps recruit minority students, gives emotional support to those feeling isolated and runs a free hair salon in her room for minority students whose hair care is foreign to local hairdressers.

On the Monday after the fashion show, Richmond nurses a cold. She is disappointed at the turnout -- only 150 people -- because of the extraordinary advertising. Everyone may know about minority-organized events, but it's always the same students who come, she says. How can they reach the thousands of others?