I’m back in Atlanta (thank God), after an interesting trip. I’m excited to be back home because Boston was a little meh to me. I didn’t meet New Edition, Malia Obama or anyone with a ‘real’ Boston accent. UGH. Anyway, I haven’t been around such a monolithic group of people since my high school AP U.S. History class.
From the people on my flight, to the people staying in my hotel, to the people attending the conference, I was frequently one of few minorities or the only minority in view. As a somewhat newbie to my profession, I didn’t realize I was a minority in my field as well. I was on my Ps and Qs the entire conference, sprinkling SAT words into my conversations and proudly telling attendees about the great things Spelman is doing. Being in that kind of environment was strange, but I was proud; proud of the institution I represented and proud to be Black.
I visited Harvard, in hopes of a Malia sighting, and to get a vibe of the campus. I’ve only been to a few predominantly white institutions, and never to an ivy league school. Somewhat surprisingly, my visit to the campus was the most diverse experience of my trip. I saw people of different ethnic backgrounds and heard at least three or four different languages. I was pleased to see diversity represented at Harvard, but that didn’t stop me from looking at a few Black women like, “Girl you OK? If they not treating you right, come on down to Atlanta.” Unfortunately, I didn’t see many Black men though, I only recall seeing two during my visit. Visiting the other HU (wink, wink) was definitely the highlight of my trip.
The older I get, the less I expect to be the only minority in the room, cause that’s just not what’s poppin’. But this week proved that if I do find myself in those spaces, I won’t be intimidated.
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