My Leadership Story

Henry N. Tisdale 

If someone had told me as a young boy growing up in the cotton fields of Williamsburg County, South Carolina, that one day I would become president of my alma mater, earn a Ph.D. in mathematics from Dartmouth College, and spend twenty-five years leading one of the nation's oldest Historically Black Colleges and Universities through transformational change, I would have found it difficult to believe. 

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My leadership story did not begin in a president's office. 

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It began in a cotton field. 

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It began in a small rural community where hard work was not optional, faith was a way of life, education was considered the pathway to freedom, and character mattered more than wealth. I was raised by parents who never had the opportunity to complete high school, yet they possessed extraordinary wisdom. They believed that education was something no one could ever take away from you. They insisted that their children always do their best, always tell the truth, always keep their word, and never allow others to define their potential. Most importantly, they taught me to trust God, think for myself, and never give up. 

Those lessons became the foundation of my leadership philosophy long before I ever occupied an administrative position. 

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Growing up in segregated South Carolina also taught me another lesson. Circumstances do not determine destiny. Opportunity may be delayed, but purpose is never denied. My teachers, church members, neighbors, and extended family constantly reminded me that I could become whatever I was willing to work for. They believed in me before I fully believed in myself. Looking back, I now understand that leadership often begins when others see possibilities in us that we have not yet discovered ourselves. 

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When I entered Claflin University in 1961, I thought I wanted to become a physician because that was what others expected of me. During my first year, however, I made one of the most important decisions of my life. I changed my major from pre-medicine to mathematics. That decision taught me an enduring leadership lesson: authentic leadership requires the courage to follow your calling rather than someone else's expectations. 

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Claflin did far more than educate me academically. It gave me confidence. It taught me that excellence and high expectations were not reserved for others. Faculty members challenged me intellectually while investing in my personal development. They taught me to communicate, to lead, to serve, and to believe that I could compete with anyone, anywhere. That confidence would shape every leadership decision I made throughout my career. 

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Graduate study at Temple University, years of teaching mathematics in Philadelphia, and later doctoral study at Dartmouth College broadened my understanding of leadership even further. Teaching in North Philadelphia taught me that leadership begins with people, not programs. Early in my teaching career I nearly resigned because I believed my students were the problem. A wise assistant principal challenged me to stop focusing on myself and instead learn to know and care for my students. That single conversation transformed my understanding of leadership forever. Before people care about what you know, they must know that you care. 

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At Dartmouth I experienced leadership modeled at the highest level. Serving as teaching assistant to President John G. Kemeny gave me a front-row seat to visionary leadership. Kemeny demonstrated that leaders must possess both intellectual courage and moral courage. Whether expanding educational opportunity, introducing innovation, or confronting resistance, he consistently chose what he believed was right rather than what was politically convenient. From him I learned that transformational leadership requires conviction, creativity, and the willingness to challenge the status quo. 

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Ironically, I never planned to become an administrator. 

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The opportunity emerged unexpectedly when Dr. James E. Lyons invited me to work part-time at Delaware State University's Office of Institutional Research. Initially, I accepted primarily because it provided supplemental income. Looking back, that decision changed the trajectory of my life. It gave me an institutional perspective that I could never have gained solely as a mathematics professor. Soon afterward, participation in the American Council on Education Fellows Program opened an entirely new world of higher education leadership. I discovered that effective leadership required understanding the entire institution—its people, finances, governance, planning, and mission—not merely one's own discipline. 

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Leadership had found me. 

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In 1994, I returned home to South Carolina to serve as the eighth president of Claflin University, my alma mater. Claflin was a respected institution with proud traditions, but it also faced significant challenges. I accepted the presidency believing that God had called Alice and me to a ministry rather than merely a position. Together, we committed ourselves to helping Claflin become all that it was capable of becoming. 

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Transformation did not occur because of one individual. 

It occurred because an entire community embraced a shared vision. 

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Working alongside dedicated trustees, faculty, staff, students, alumni, donors, church leaders, community partners, and my wife Alice, we focused relentlessly on academic excellence, student success, financial strength, fundraising, campus renewal, leadership development, and institutional stewardship. Twenty-five years later, Claflin had become nationally recognized for excellence, consistently ranked among the nation's leading liberal arts institutions, and recognized as one of America's premier HBCUs. 

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The greatest lesson from those years is that leadership is never about personal accomplishment. 

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It is about helping an institution become better than it was when you arrived. 

Throughout my presidency, I viewed leadership as a stewardship. Every decision required asking a simple question: "Will this strengthen Claflin for future generations?" That question influenced everything—from governance and strategic planning to fundraising, facilities, academic quality, succession planning, and leadership development. 

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Equally important was the partnership I shared with Alice. She was never simply the First Lady. She was my closest advisor, strongest supporter, and full partner in our shared ministry. Together we sought to build not only a stronger institution but also a stronger community of faith, learning, and service. Our journey reminds me that no great leader succeeds alone. 

Retirement has given me the opportunity to reflect on what leadership truly means. 

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Leadership is not about titles. 

Leadership is not about authority. 

Leadership is not about recognition. 

Leadership is about purpose. 

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It is about serving something larger than yourself. 

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It is about helping others discover possibilities they cannot yet see. 

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It is about building institutions that will continue to flourish long after your own service has ended. 

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Today, my mission has evolved from leading one institution to helping prepare future generations of leaders. Through mentoring, writing, speaking, coaching, and scholarship, I hope to invest my experiences in those who will lead colleges and universities through increasingly complex times. If my journey demonstrates anything, it is that transformational leadership begins with character, grows through service, is strengthened by vision, sustained by faith, and measured by the lives and institutions that are forever changed. 

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My story began in the cotton fields of Williamsburg County. 

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By God's grace, it became a story of opportunity, education, service, and transformation. 

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And I believe the most enduring chapters are still being written—not about me, but through the leaders who will carry this work forward.