I Hate My HBCU

I know what you’re thinking…I’m black so I’m supposed to love my HBCU because of the history and culture behind it. Believe me when I say I am in love with my history and culture. I’m damn near a Civil Rights Movement historian and no one supports the “Black Lives Matter” movement more than me. That doesn’t mean I need to love my HBCU… right?? Let me start off by saying that I wasn’t raised around a lot of black people. I lived in the suburbs and went to mostly white private and public school between elementary and high school. When we would go out of state to visit my mom’s side of the family, I felt so out of place because I “acted white” whatever that means. I speak proper English and avoid slang at all costs. When I got to my HBCU, I felt out of place there, too. There were people who looked just like me, that’s what makes a lot of  people feel comfortable. I felt nervous and queasy. A lot of the students were there to party, a lot of the professors weren’t good at explaining things, Financial Aid and other staff weren’t there to help you, they were simply there to collect a check. The atmosphere was ghetto, the people were ghetto. I got through my first semester alright because I thought this was how it was supposed to be. Then, I went to visit my best friend at her college. This college is where a good amount of my friends from back home went. It was PWI and I fell in love with it from the moment I drove on the campus. The people and the environment were so friendly. I felt comfortable and at home. Just because I am black doesn’t mean I need to go to an HBCU. It also doesn’t mean I’m a “sellout” or an “Uncle Tom” for deciding to transfer to a PWI. I know what makes me happy and being at an HBCU made me miserable and depressed. I will always support HBCUs, though. For my own mental health, though, I need to be around what I know and am comfortable with. I love my culture, but I love myself a little bit more.

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Author: thejazzageblog

I am a follower of God, an ex-gymnast, and a writer.

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