Ah, springtime. You know, flowers blooming, warm weather, people getting hit with Frisbees while walking on the green (yes, it happened to me), and all that other good stuff. We’ve already had our annual race related incident, so it’s time to focus on something else. That’s right, commencement. The countdown is on.

It’s the little things that you notice at first, like not receiving the Grapevine for the first time or not receiving that huge Course Announcement book a short time before you have to register. Hell, not even registering for classes seems weird. It’s very easy to get in the annoying ‘reminiscing’ state of mind. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve heard a fellow senior say, “This is the last time I’ll (fill in the blank) ever again!!!” I’ve been guilty of it myself. So what better way to finish off my last piece of journalism at this school than to reminisce on the past 4 years? Wait, didn’t I just complain about that? Who cares, I’m graduating. So let’s take trip down to memory lane (ooh ooh oooooh) – if you don’t get the reference, I recommend you listen to Nas, Illmatic, right now.

I live in Paterson, NJ, which is a predominantly African American, Puerto Rican, and Dominican inner city area, but I was blessed to get a scholarship to attend a private lily-white high school named Dwight-Englewood. As hard as it was for me to adapt to the culture of wearing khaki shorts in 50-degree weather and horribly pronounced slang, by graduation I felt that there was nothing that an environment like Brown could show me that I hadn’t seen already. I mean, once you’ve seen one group of privileged white and Asian kids expecting my skinny ass to ball like Jordan, dressing in overly baggy clothing and mixing in ‘dude’ and ‘rocks’ with ‘phat’ and ‘dope,’ you’ve seen them all, right?

Wrong. Brown introduced me to a whole new world. My small high school of 400 was now multiplied by a factor of 10, and I was living in this environment 24-7. I lived in Keeney, the largest freshman dorm on campus, which had a decent black population - if you include the janitorial personnel. As far as students, numbers were just a teeny bit lower. This fact, combined with my engineering courses that were even less diverse (surprise!), made it harder on my social integration to the school. I always felt like I was THE black one, in my unit and in my classes. It can be hard on the psyche when you realize that in some of these people’s minds, you represent all of their stereotypes about African Americans in this country, and you can either reinforce them or smash them into pieces. I’m definitely the type of person to act for myself first and others later, but it still weighs on the mind.

School credits earned: 8.

I lived in Harambee house my sophomore year, which helped the living situation, but not the class situation, where I was now just about the only Black student in my classes after people jumped ship freshman year. Just my luck, it was the year the whole controversy over a letter rating the Black males on campus blew up. (It started because I was ranked number #2 in the overall rating, so there was an uproar of disapproval on campus.) Besides that, it was an excellent experience. Not only did I get to skip the horribly unfair housing lottery, which would have guaranteed me a broom closet in Perkins (which would be converted into a triple), but it enabled me to make even more relationships with people that shared some of the same issues and problems that I go through. Being Black at an institution such as Brown is a unique experience, especially for someone from an urban environment, and there are common experiences that Black people go through. Whether all Black people see these experiences in the same light is a different story. Nonetheless, this is a common link between us all, and it should be explored and discussed.

School credits earned: 7.

Junior year marked the critical fall and rise point of my college career. I was the most uncomfortable that I had ever felt on this campus. The Horowitz ad and subsequent taking of the papers fueled the flames of backlash. People were getting letters in their mailboxes and voice messages on their phones, and the BDH and Jolt forums were outrageous. All of this, added on to other personal problems, led to my academic suffering, and I ended up on serious warning. Needless to say, I was very depressed going into second semester. My self-confidence was at an all time low. I doubted that I belonged at this institution, since I was busting my ass and didn’t feel I had anything to show for it. I underwent a serious change, in the way that I approached academics and life. Previously, things always seemed to just work out, and I realized that I did not make enough of effort to seek help when I was having trouble. Part of this had to do with my thoughts of going to teachers and instilling in their minds, ‘Why does this student seem to have too much trouble?” Part of it was just being scared, since this was the first time I had ever run into serious academic trouble. Deans and friends helped, but the ultimate achievement was convincing myself that I had to get serious.

School credits earned: 5 (yeah, it was that bad).

So now, I’m a senior. This is my second semester in a row taking five classes so that I can have the credits required to graduate on time. Although I do squeeze in time for fun, it has been a rigorous year academically for me. I have not had as much time as I want to truly enjoy my last weeks on campus. However, I feel better about myself than I ever have before. I’m brimming with confidence. It’s something when you achieve over adversity in life, especially in something that you have previously done well in. Sometimes I just think, damn, I’m an urban raised black male, majoring in engineering, and graduating on time from an ivy-league institution. That’s breaking too many laws— they may throw me in jail or something.

Oh yeah, school credits to be earned: 10. That makes 30. May 27th, here I come!

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