“We may act sophisticated and worldly but I believe we feel safest when we go inside ourselves and find home, a place where we belong and maybe the only place we really do.”
Maya Angelou, Letter To My Daughter
When I started this column, my intention was to broadcast experiences, stories, and opinions of Black community members here to the rest of campus. To get the rest of campus thinking, and to start a dialogue. I do think it had the success I wanted at first (especially “The N-Word” — thank you Miss Zharee), but I think I’ve come to realize something that has made me take a step back from this.
I’ve realized that I need to be more selfish.
Being selfish does not always have to be a bad thing, and I think it’s important people are more sparing with the time and energy they leave to themselves. But what does that mean to Black Effect?
It means several things.
The first thing is the community of this column. Though the column has showcased a range of Black people on campus, having one interviewee per issue has often disseminated a one-sided story. I don’t regret any of the pieces I put out. In fact, I am very proud of my work, and am even prouder knowing people learned a thing or two from them. But if the community will not cosign the messages, I think it’s in their best interest to tell “fuller” stories of their views and observe how their words permeate campus. It is not fair to them for me to be the representative of their voices, and it’s not fair to me to be restricted to those viewpoints.
The second thing is the nature of this column. I chose to focus on Black experience because, although being as inclusive as possible is important, there is also strength in highlighting certain voices. Universities across the country have Historically Black Houses, Black-owned magazines, Black social justice organizations, etc. A Black-specific column, to me, was the start of this. But there is much more I have to say beyond that voice. The Black voice is what I wanted to uplift, and now that I have done it for a semester, I think it is time for me to pivot to other voices that need to be heard.
The last thing is me. My work on campus requires a lot of listening and acting based on others’ requests. This is, truly, the only way social work can be effective: by listening to the people. Though it is my pride and joy, it can be draining. Being open is something that requires a lot of letting your guard down (and holding your tongue). It’s something I’m still learning how to do, but something I cannot be open to is malicious ideas. So when I chose Zharee to speak about the N-word or Ang to speak about intersections, it was not meant to deliver a certain “agenda,” but to prevent people from saying hurtful shit. But I know now that’s not something I have control over when it comes to written work like this.
So what now?
I will be starting a new column this Spring that is meant to be more of a “soap-box” moment for myself and other key members on campus. It’s going to be called (you guessed it) Soap-Box. I’m going to free the column from any restraint of having to serve an identity or community, and give members the chance to make their voices heard, and to spew raw, hard-to-hear, but beneficial information. I love writing, but the most joy I had with writing this year was not through my column, but through my Letter to The Editor, “Mind of a Junior.” A piece where I got to share my own feelings. A piece where I got the chance to speak freely about issues on campus.
I need to hear us. Our campus needs to hear us. You need to hear us. And we’re going to yell until you do.
Until then, I wish you blessings in the new year, and a decade full of something new.
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