As a student of color in college there are often hidden battles I fight day in and day out that many of my more privileged counterparts never face. I can recall first getting accepted to Georgetown University and the immense amount of excitement and gratitude that followed. I always felt destined to go to college. I knew that I would. My upbringing came with many accolades that would expose me to a world so much bigger than the one I grew up in – the one my friends would only come to know. As a result, I was able to picture myself becoming something much bigger than what the circumstances of my environment typically allowed. However, it wasn’t until I got to college that I realized how much my “differentness” was actually just me being deemed as exceptional. I then learned how only the exceptional Black and brown kids were afforded the investment and attention needed to become successful. Exceptionalism within the Black community is a vicious cycle that places the articulate, intelligent, and “gifted” on an incredible pedestal with unsurmountable expectations, while also using these elite individuals as the benchmarks of success for all the rest.
Coming to terms with this reality was a difficult one for me my first two years of college. Why was I seen as being so special, simply because I went to college? Why was this something always expected of me and not of my peers? Why was everyone around me so content with this cycle? Living out the duality of my life – being a charismatic young man who can thrive in any settling and balances the everyday life of college and a very much white world, while also being an authentic member of my community and proving to my friends and family that I am still a part of them – has only added to the many hidden battles I mentioned earlier. Going from class, to mentoring young men like myself, to talking to my closest friends over collect calls as I try to impart a sense of wisdom that I don’t believe I have, yet they always seem to seek from me, can play a very trying and interesting role on the psyche of student like myself. And over time I saw myself loose grip of my happiness and my balance.
Attending the Yale Black Solidarity Conference was empowering because it reminded me that I wasn’t alone in my thoughts, my actions, and my reality. There were other Black students from across the country who too had been at war with the very same battles as me. Going beyond just being in community with these individuals, I was also inspired by the theme of the conference. It was one that touched on the topics of coping with our mental health, building resilience as a people, and lessons on how to heal from our trauma. In more ways than not, a lot of the trauma of my childhood was brought to the forefront during my time in undergrad, because being removed from my environment showed me just how much I had come to normalize extremely toxic situations. Nevertheless, there was, and is, still a deep love and appreciation for these very environments, and the result left me unsure of my identity, my position in the world, and my own stability.
I gained a lot of personal resources and advice from the conference that I can now implement within my own life – with the hopes I will begin to channel the rage, fear, and discomfort I felt just a few months ago, into something greater than myself. The Black Solidarity Conference also shedded light on the importance of our stories as people and the need to share them. I’ve been working on an Extended Play mixtape for the past year and a half, and after returning from the conference I had built the confidence and the motivation to complete a very personal song that I believe embodies my own transcendence and growth. The EP is called My First Speech and each song represents a part of the “programming” or overall process of giving a speech. The track-list is as follows:
- Mr. Green’s Room (Skit)
- Opening Remarks
- Run of Show
- Speaker’s Bio
- Cold Feet
- Intermission (Skit)
- Keynote
This song speaks on the depression and self-doubt that consumed me during my time at Georgetown (feelings that still manage to creep back in from time to time). It follows my path of actualizing my new found success and the pressures that come with such success when coming from the community I come from. But it also contains redemption, self-discovery, and a new found appreciation for self-love by the end of it. Which is exactly the journey I’ve gone down over the course of the past four months or so. I hope you enjoy it.
