My lengthy college journey towards an advanced degree began when I was just a short and jangly junior high school student of the 8th grade. My 8th grade assistant principal was a proud alumni of Morgan State University and to instill in her students the importance of a higher education, she planned a trip for us to stay in the dorms so we could live like college students for an entire weekend! (Crazy...I know... but it was the early 90's. The era no one talks about.)
From what I can remember, this trip was amazing. I can still smell the sweet smell of soul food that wafted in the air and carried us off the bus onto the campus quad. They pulled out all the stops for us! As soon as we stepped off the bus, we were greeted by hundreds of beautiful young sorority and fraternity members stepping and chanting their various organizational songs and strolls. They then ushered us to a grand buffet where they served us every kind of soul food dish one could ever desire. From fried chicken to smoked collard greens to hog maws and pigs feet (gag) to the most mouth watering desserts like peach cobbler and red velvet cake. I never ate so much in my life!
To be honest all I can remember about that weekend was the food and how fly ( check that 90's slang!) those sorority girls looked stepping and dancing. I knew for sure that I wanted to be one of them and when it was time for college applications to go out, in my junior year of high school, I remembered those very "mature" 8th grade feelings and foolishly only applied to Morgan State University. When my acceptance letter came in the mail I screamed so loud I swear my ancestors could hear it. However my girlfriend at the time was not accepted and put on the wait-list. (Insert tires screeching sound here) Luckily, she was accepted later in the year with the condition of attending some pre-frosh summer classes and everything was all well in our little planet... or so I thought.
So let's fast forward to my high school graduation day. My mom threw me a party after the graduation ceremony. Thankfully my uncle was NOT on the invite list and therefore no blow job scandals developed to ruin my celebration. Anyhoo, a few months later, I was off to college. My mom could not have been more proud. I would be the first in my family to go to university. My entire family packed my stuff and we drove five hours from Queens, New York to Baltimore, Maryland and as we pulled into the parking lot of my new dorm, I remember thinking "Oh shit! I hate this place." I quickly pushed those ideas out of my head , chalked it up to nerves and put on a happy face.
I attended freshman orientation weekend and I met some cool folks. To be more specific, I met lesbians... southern lesbians....how exotic! However my new southern lesbo friends did not hold my attention long. To make a long and very convoluted story short, the first four months of my freshman college career I came down with severe depression because I was super homesick. On top of being homesick, I caught the flu and was bedridden for a month. Then we found out that the health department closed down all the campus cafeterias because they found traces of fecal matter and other rodents in the food in storage facilities.... awesome. The straw that broke my back was when I walked in on my girlfriend eating out another girl one day when I came back from class early. Needless to say, Morgan State was not living up to my 8th grade fantasy. I hated that place and it seemed to hate me too! So what does one tough girl from Queens do after all that emotional and situational drama? She calls her mommy (I came out of the closet during that call...SURPRISE!) and begs to come home that's what! And that I did. I dropped out of school and ran back to New York on the first greyhound bus smokin'.
Thankfully, my college career did not stop there. For some reason I did not learn my lesson and went to the very next school that accepted my application. I dragged my sorry butt to Marymount College in Tarrytown, NY. But somehow while filling out all the mountains of transfer application paperwork, I somehow missed the fact that Marymount College was an all women's college... shit! I'm sure you are all thinking this is a good thing right? Similar to be kid in a candy store, or a chunky person being left alone in a pastry shop or a lesbian being sent to a minimum security jail...But that was sooooo wrong! It was awful! All these women were so homophobic. But the most surprising thing was that there weren't even any feminists on campus. I though at least there would be some topless feminist chicks that would scream for Women's rights at the random college demonstration. (You know there is always a topless feminist at a protest.) Nope! These girls were so overly hetero it was nauseating.
I mistakenly went to some study groups metaphorically waving my rainbow flag in every ones face in hopes of getting some attention, good conversation or at the very least a drunken kiss but all I got was fewer study group invitations. I, of course, didn't stop there. Your not-so-humble author signed up for the woman's softball team. My thinking was that there has to be lesbo's on the softball team.... right? Bzzzzzzz...wrong again! The only girl on girl action I found on that team was when the whole team bonded over their hatred for my black ass! These were some racist heffas. I remember they intentionally tried to hit me with the ball during batting practice . I'm sure this had nothing to do with my less than adequate batting skills. No...couldn't be that, they were just racist.
My lesbo search began to feel hopeless and eventually I stopped searching. Surprisingly enough, around that very time my grades miraculously improved. Any correlation? Nah. But just when all else failed, the softball coach introduced me to another gay student. Eureka ...right? Wrong again! Unbeknownst to me, this girl was two days out a mental hospital and was so emotionally sensitive that she would freak out if she heard loud noises. Well it's a good thing I didn't know that then because I wouldn't have invited her to dinner with me and my home girls. I wouldn't exactly describe my home girls as "mean" per se but let's just say that if I was fresh out of the mental hospital the last thing I would do was go out to dinner with them. It was like dining with the leaders of Palestine and Israel at one table... yeah, it was that bad. I knew going in they both came from different worlds but I thought at the very least the conversation would be interesting . Well I was right about that. Dinner became super interesting when this girl began crying spontaneously every couple of minutes while my home girls laughed and pointed. Yup they actually pointed at her. Dinner was a disaster! I guess diplomatic work was not my forte and when we got back to school the word spread that I brought this fragile girl in front of my firing squad of friends and yours truly was officially annexed out of social circle of the college. Admittedly the social circle had the circumference of a single pea but I was certainly booted out and next semester I transferred out...again.
And no, in case you were wondering, I did not research any schools and went to the first school that excepted my colorful application. The next spring, Long Island University (C.W. Post campus) was graced by my presence. This was my third college and boy oh boy did I have fun. In the two years I was a student at "Post", as we called it, I made tons of friends, led an intervention for my roommate who was addicted to speed and ecstasy, convinced a girl to date me even though she had never dated women before and became the president of the LGBT group on campus . I was busy busy busy and I even had time to go to class . My grades were okay but who had time for class? I was officially a co-ed! I even managed to join a little crew. We were a hodgepodge of miscreants that did traditional college things you know... watched movies, slept through class, took the midnight trips to Walmart, and ate everything in sight . I thought I had found the college I was destined to graduate from but Bzzzzz.....wrong again! I'll condense the events that led to me transferring the third time into one sentence.
I got kicked out of the dorm because I left my 4- foot glass bong in my room over Christmas break.
This led to me being fired from my resident assistant position on campus. I was obviously totally embarrassed so packed up my stuff and left school with my tail between my legs.
I transferred again and before you ask, no, I did not research and I went to the first school that accepted me. This time it was SUNY University at Albany. However along with my bong I also had my girlfriend from C.W. Post with me. We moved upstate together and all was well until four months down the line when I dumped her for a cuter and slightly butcher girl. That situation was fun and full of drama because we were living in off-campus apartment at the time and I sort of moved the new girl in while my ex from C.W. Post was still there. Bad karma ...I know, but I was young, stupid, insensitive, and skinny which was a recipe for causing drama and heartache.
I eventually graduated with a Bachelors of Arts from SUNY University at Albany. My college journey was super crazy, fun, ridiculous and it taught me sooooo much about life and bureaucracy. I was and still am the first in my family to earn an actual college degree. My college graduation was a joyous occasion and my biological father came and even wore a suit. (I only ever see him wear Adidas track suits so it was an amazing day all around.) I dedicated my degree to my mother because without her I would not have survived all the craziness I got myself into. But the one thing I did learn from my college years was:
Before you make decisions that will affect your life... do some self work on your spiritual foundation so that you can be honest about what environment will be the most productive for your academic and social success.
BOOM... lesson learned!
