I know this picture may come off as a black woman
screaming at you but to me it screams “I have a voice, I have something
important to say, I want everyone to hear me”. I will be
honest in saying that I am nervous about your views and
opinions about my first blog but nonetheless I NEED to do this. It is my hope that this first blog entry will not only help me but others who have had similar experiences.
I graduated in 2012 with my PhD and on the day of
my graduation ceremony everyone from family, friends, and even strangers beamed
with joy, amazement, and happiness that I, an African American woman, graduated with the highest degree awarded. Unfortunately, I found it difficult
to enjoy the moment.
During the congratulations and well wishes, I plastered on
a halfhearted smile so no one would know what I truly felt inside; which was completely torn. I felt torn about the meaning of receiving my PhD.
I was torn between being this accomplished Black
woman who was grateful for all of the sacrifices that many of my Black sheroes
and heroes made so that I could even achieve this level of educational
attainment. While this other part of me felt utterly empty. I had
somehow, along this PhD journey, lost so much of myself that I didn’t
even recognize who I was anymore.
I lost parts of me that were core to my existence. They were the authentic, honest, and raw parts of my being that I no longer possessed. In that moment, I thought to myself “What in the world happen to me and who is this woman that I don’t recognize?
I lost parts of me that were core to my existence. They were the authentic, honest, and raw parts of my being that I no longer possessed. In that moment, I thought to myself “What in the world happen to me and who is this woman that I don’t recognize?
During the two years after I graduated, I often
thought back to a conversation I had with one of my mentors, a prominent
African American professor, who warned me that during the PhD journey, I
had to be careful about losing myself. She stated that I had to make a decision about how much of myself I would sacrifice/hide just to
receive a PhD. She warned me not lose the essence of who I was and who I was created to
be. It was as if she hinting that the Ivory Tower was not to keen on Black’s being authentic and as if exposing my blackness was considered a threat to its existence.
As I recalled the conversation I had with my mentor that day, I knew that I had given up too much of myself during my doctoral studies. I decided to hide who I was in order to obtain the PhD. While I knew this was the harsh truth, I immediately found myself defending my decisions as if I had no other choice. At one point, I genuinely believed that I could not exist in my blackness/authentic self and successfully complete my degree. Throughout the course of my doctoral studies, I was often told explicitly and implicitly that my blackness was offensive and was not welcomed nor appreciated in the Ivory Tower of academia.
These messages came from both blacks and whites, peers and professors. I was told that my research, which revolved around issues with racial minorities, was considered “controversial” or deemed a “slippery slope”. I remember a black peer of mine tell me “We (African Americans) do not belong here” and that “this is their (Whites) world”. I had a white male professor call me “ghetto” in front of the entire faculty and my peers as if it was a compliment and his way of “relating” to me. Or the incident where I had some of my African American female peers in the doctoral program tell me to be more “nicer” to my white peers since one day they would be the ones to give me a job...(now mind you, the majority of my white peers and I were pretty cool). Or the incident where I was called militant for having natural hair...the list goes on and on. After experiencing these “incidents” or what is academically termed as micro aggressions, how could I not cope by hiding my authentic “self/blackness”.
As I recalled the conversation I had with my mentor that day, I knew that I had given up too much of myself during my doctoral studies. I decided to hide who I was in order to obtain the PhD. While I knew this was the harsh truth, I immediately found myself defending my decisions as if I had no other choice. At one point, I genuinely believed that I could not exist in my blackness/authentic self and successfully complete my degree. Throughout the course of my doctoral studies, I was often told explicitly and implicitly that my blackness was offensive and was not welcomed nor appreciated in the Ivory Tower of academia.
These messages came from both blacks and whites, peers and professors. I was told that my research, which revolved around issues with racial minorities, was considered “controversial” or deemed a “slippery slope”. I remember a black peer of mine tell me “We (African Americans) do not belong here” and that “this is their (Whites) world”. I had a white male professor call me “ghetto” in front of the entire faculty and my peers as if it was a compliment and his way of “relating” to me. Or the incident where I had some of my African American female peers in the doctoral program tell me to be more “nicer” to my white peers since one day they would be the ones to give me a job...(now mind you, the majority of my white peers and I were pretty cool). Or the incident where I was called militant for having natural hair...the list goes on and on. After experiencing these “incidents” or what is academically termed as micro aggressions, how could I not cope by hiding my authentic “self/blackness”.
All of these experiences led me to the conclusion
that my authentic self made people uncomfortable and that in order for me to
survive in my graduate program, I had to hide who I was. Now two years later,
I am still recovering from denying the totality of who I am and who I was
created to be. Two years later, I come to the conclusion that people being uncomfortable around me while I am being myself is their problem and not mine. Two years later,
I am finding my authentic voice again.
God Bless
Karmel
Photo courtesy of shutterstock.com
