Citation: Bricking, Tanya. "She's On Your Level," College Heights Herald, December 6, 1990, pp. 3B and 8B. College Heights Herald is a publication of the University Publications Department and copies are available to researchers in University Archives record group 37.

Phyllis Gatewood hasn’t forgotten that she was once a Western dropout who almost became a telephone operator.

Now that she counsels students and encourages them to stay in school, Western’s black student retention coordinator says she can empathize with students who have problems adjusting to college life.

”I wasn’t a 4.0 student in college. I had to work hard to get my degree. I’ve dropped out of school. I’ve misplaced my priorities. I talk to students so they’ll feel more comfortable and come in and tell me when they have a problem”

Gatewood spent about a year and a half out of school working at a phone company before she came back to complete her undergraduate degree in sociology and social work in 1979 and her masters degree in public service and counseling in 1982.

Appointments with students now fill her daily planner, and pink telephone messages form an orderly pile on her Potter Hall desk.

As she talks, the neatly groomed woman with short hair, dressed in a plain-and-navy suit, leans back in her blue swivel chair.

”My job working with minorities is important because I target a group of students which is my own race, and I’m very concerned about them,” she says.

The 1989 NAACP Community Service Award hanging behind her confirms her dedication. She received the award for helping youth through a program she initiated in 1987 called Activated Interest in Minority Students. It’s directed at junior high students who come to Western twice a semester to participate in minority workshops.

Across the room, next to a collage of photographs of AIMS program members and Delta Sigma Theta sorority sisters, a sign tacked to a bulletin board reads: “I like this job so much I’d do it for nothing. Unfortunately they know that.”

She likes it so much that sometimes she works until 9 p.m.

She has been helping students since 1980, when she became a hall director.

She’s given advice to pregnant residents. Once she comforted a student whose roommate had died in a car accident. Another time she stood on top of the parking structure and talked a student out of committing suicide. And she still hears from the girl “who had no idea what a checkbook was” before they met.

In December 1986, Gatewood accepted a job in the Student Life office as a black student recruitment specialist. The job required traveling, so she had to get her driver’s license, even though she was terrified of driving.

In August 1989, she was promoted to black student retention coordinator.

”I know from the comments and the student flow in my office that I am helping them,” Gatewood said as she doodled on a matchbook cover. “I even have students call me at home. I’m single, and I don’t have a family to go home to. I let students know that that’s OK.”

Middlesboro freshman Allen Martin has become a regular visitor. He’s been to her apartment to do laundry, and he’ll work in her office next semester.

Martin said he likes to talk to Gatewood because “It’s like she’s on your level.”

Howard Bailey, dean of Student Life, said “very quietly she does more than many people do loudly. That’s the trait of a true leader.”

Though many black students see Gatewood as a friend and role model, it takes them a while to warm up to her because of her quiet nature.

Gatewood, who will be 35 this month, said her shyness makes her hard to approach, but Bailey, Gatewood’s boss, says “students gravitate toward her.”

Connie Jones, Gatewood’s oldest sister who lives in Cincinatti, said Gatewood was a sensitive and quiet child.

Her mother, Lavinia Gatewood, said Phyllis “is a serious person who can’t take a tease.” But Phyllis’ best friends say she’s not so serious.

”She’s a practical joker. Rubber mice, gag gifts – she’s really in to jokes,” said Nate Jordan, a Louisville junior and Western kitchen supervisor.

”Probably people who really know me see a real different side as opposed to the serious side,” Phyllis said. “Nate will call and leave me a message that says ‘this is Jesse Jackson.’ And I always call and leave little messages on his recorder. I might say ‘This is Coretta King’ or something.”

Her college roommate, Phyllis Johnson, knows her comical side. They roomed together in 1977 and 1978.

”She’s a great dancer. She used to do this little go-go dance in front of the window and we would flip the light on and off like a strobe light,” Johnson said. “People used to think she didn’t have any clothes on, but she would wear a little bodysuit.”

Cindy Morris, the Student Life office manager who has known Phyllis for about 10 years, said students trust her with confidential problems.

We tease her and call her Mother Phyllis. She’s kind of like a big sister.

Phyllis said helping students is part of her nurturing nature and she likes “to focus on the students that no one pays attention to.”

She said she often helps the ones people might refer to as “someone who is not college material.” And Phyllis proves them wrong.

But she said she doesn’t want people to think she limits herself to helping only black students.

”I’m primarily here for them. But we have to be here for all students, and I firmly believe that. If it wasn’t for the students, we wouldn’t be here at all.”

She said the ideal Western would have more minorities and would offer a program in cultural diversity, because she doesn’t think students are as racially conscious as they were when she was in school in the ‘60s.

While Phyllis enjoys “giving something back” to Bowling Green’s black community, she said it may be time for her to move on.

She’s considering relocating in a bigger city such as Louisville, Nashville or Cincinnati.

”I need a different environment. I was born here. I was raised here, and I went to school here,” she said. “You need a different environment sometimes – I mean some different outlets that Bowling Green does not provide for a single person my age. Those are my only reasons for wanting to go.”

When she leaves Western, Phyllis said she hopes people remember her as “someone who genuinely cares about others.”

But “I don’t think I’m that much different than anybody else. I think there are a lot of people out there who care about other people. Maybe I just spend more time doing it.”

See also Minorities at WKU Bibliography.

These and other sources are available in the Harrison-Baird Reading Room at the Kentucky Museum & Library.