During this time, I have lost the only father I've ever known, Grandpa. My oldest has had surgery and my mother a stroke. How did I make it, I can't tell you. But I am grateful to say I have made it to the end. As I reflect back on my life I wonder why must things be so difficult when you are trying to do better? I am curious to know why poor people suffer the way that they do. I tried to understand the difference in high-and low brow literature. I needed to know why Hip-Hop had such a bad reputation. I have thought about Michael Jackson's numerous surgeries and how a man that was loved by millions, died "lonely." I have questioned the use of a Bachelor's degree in English for a young Black girl? How can I be this close to graduation with so many unanswered questions?
In the end, I am proud of my accomplishments but ashamed to say so. Pride is not something I'm proud of having. I'd rather say I am grateful for this privilege, this opportunity to do what many Black people are not fortunate to do, graduate from a university. Wow! Look at me. I am the first one in my entire family to do so, I am the only one that knows this type of struggle. My mother knew different struggles. Her White/Black/Indian grandmother would not allow her in her front door on a Sunday morning because her "skin was too dark." Her biology teacher said lets use a strand of Helen's hair as a specimen under the microscope because it should be filled with dirt." My mother knows of different struggles. So am I proud? I don't think my emotions or questions can be equated with pride but I feel something.
If someone asked me to sum up the last six years of my life, I would say:
M - arginal
T - ough
E - xplicit
R - ough
E - xquisite
D - ONE