1.Birth - Grade 2 in Elementary School
This is the best part of my story. I was born into love. I was raised in the bosom of my maternal family. I was also a daddy's girl. I have great memories of waking up on Christmas Day to run down the stairs to a living room covered with gifts for my brother and I. My grandmother hosted barbecue parties in the summer which were legendary in our neighborhood. My mother was always taking my brother and I to the library, museums, zoo, movies, and theater productions at the local university in an effort to expose us to the world. I would gaze upon the stars from the window in my bedroom and pray to God that I would be able to see the world when I was older. I remember having a very clear sense of self at the age of seven. I remember so much of my beautiful childhood that the next phase brings tears to my eyes.
2. Grade 3- 6
I became officially fat during this period. I got called "fat," along with every other world in the dictionary by my classmates. Fat pig, Fat dog, etc. etc. My parents marriage was cracking. I left parochial school after third grade due to financial issues. As a fourth grader, I rode #27 city bus to Chase Intermediate School which was located in a predominately white area. I had my first white best friend named Wendy B. I invited her over to my house to hang out and stay overnight. Wendy's parents needed to officially meet me before they would consent to her coming to the all-Black part of town where I lived. Wendy was a little nervous about coming to my neighborhood too. When she finally came to my home to visit and stay overnight, nothing dramatic happened. The Black people in my neighborhood didn't take much notice of her. We hung out at my grandmother's house and went to the Union Terminal. I realized at Chase Intermediate School that I was being taught the same math lessons which I had learned at catholic school. I took a test for my hometown's most selective public school. I failed the math portion. I received the results and cried because I knew it would be hard for me to get a high quality education at the regular city schools. I discovered Musical Youth and England during this time. I read voraciously.
3. Junior High School
I attended a junior high school in my all-Black working class community. The white students who attended my junior high school were from an all-white working class area. It was a school filled with poor kids who were receiving a shitty quality education. I knew this when I was in the seventh grade! I was in the highest level classes. I made all A's except in physical education (I made a B). I won every academic award in the school. I worked as a library helper. I read all the time even during lunch time at school. My classmates made fun of my voracious reading appetite and my London pin which I wore on my semi-fashionable clothes. My best friend was Angelique M. She was a great best friend. I would visit her and talk about wanting to live in New York City or California. I was in love with a classmate named Itko (pronounced I-tee-ko). I was obsessed with losing weight. Every summer I would pledge to lose at least 50 lbs by the beginning of the new school year. I would try to exercise for 3-5 hours a day. I never lost any weight during the summers. Every August, I would cry in the bathroom because I was still fat. I was also had unfashionable clothes. I felt like the ugliest person alive. I was ashamed of myself because I was fat. Sometimes I just wanted to die. After two years in my neighborhood junior high school, I knew I needed to get out. I was in pre-Algebra classes for two years. I was only assigned two books to read, Treasure Island and The Witch of Blackbird Pond, in my eighth grade English course. I never had lots of challenging homework to do like the kids on The Brady Bunch. My low quality education wasn't going to prepare me for Columbia University or any other top colleges in the U.S. which I read about in Lisa Birnbach's College Book guide. I longed for a fair chance to fulfill my potential. I started calling various Catholic schools in my area. One day when I was looking through a newspaper, I saw an ad about testing for this private school. I called the school inquiring about information. I was 14 years old. My mother used her last $20 in her wallet to pay for my test at the private school. I knew I had to do well because my mother didn't have $20 to give away. I did well on every area except math. The private school cost about $12,000 USD a year plus books and supplies in 1986. I received a partial scholarship from a local private organization modeled on A Better Chance organization.
4. High School
All I wanted to do on a September day in 1986 was to survive my first day at the private school. The school was located in the richest neighborhood in my city. I was dressed in my finest and newest outfit and shoes. This Is It by Kenny Loggins played on the oldies radio station. I thought it was the appropriate song for this pivotal moment in my life. High school wasn't just high school for me. I knew as a ninth grader that entering the gilded halls of Country Day School would change my life. I knew I was in the position to attain the education which I desperately needed to leave the Midwest behind for a top college. This rich kid's privilege was going to be my salvation. I was 1 out of 3 African-American students in my class. Many of my classmates turned 16 years old and received a BMW, Volkswagen Jetta, Honda, Audi, and even a Porsche as a birthday present. I lived in a neighborhood that most of my classmates had never visited. The yellow bus wouldn't come to my neighborhood to pick me up for school. I woke up around 6:30am to get ready for school and take a city bus to another neighborhood where I would catch the yellow bus and ride for 30 minutes to Country Day School. Most of the kids on the yellow bus were African-American. I received B's and a few C's at school. I was in hell, socially. I just didn't fit in. I wasn't rich. I wasn't white. I wasn't thin. I wasn't an East Asian or South Asian child of doctors who could pretend that being non-white wasn't an issue. I was an African-American feminist, liberal, internationalist, pro-abortion rights, Equal Rights Amendment supporter, Baptist raised, book lover. I listened to Scritti Politti, Culture Club, and B52s. I still felt ugly. I still felt ashamed of my body-size. My moods verged from hopeful to suicidal all within a day. I felt like the character Allison in The Breakfast Club. I got a job at a book store during my sophomore year. I worked on Monday and Thursday nights and the weekends. I learned so much working there. It was great to have my own money and help my mother out. I used to give my little brother money to take his girlfriends to the movies. I spent my earnings on books, music, movies, and magazines. I was still dreaming of London, New York City, Los Angeles, and many European lands. I spent one summer working at the bookstore and reading travel guides. I was so desperate to see the world that reading about it in Let's Go , Frommers, and, Rough Guide temporarily satiated my wanderlust. My sophomore year a girl from England named C. came to Country Day. I loved talking to C. because she was English. She once commented that I talked about London like I had been there. C. stopped talking with me once she was in with the popular group. I was in love with brothers. The oldest brother was C. who was a senior during my first year at Country Day. The youngest brother was D. who was one or two years ahead of me. They were from an African-American upper-middle class family. I didn't have a chance in the world with C. Nothing ever happened with D. who was the screw-up son of the Talented Tenth family. I was planning to apply to the following colleges: Sarah Lawrence,Bard,Emerson, Wesleyan University,and Pitzer. I wanted to attend a college with a filmmaking program, a liberal atmosphere, and study abroad programs. The safety school which I really never ever wanted to attend was Miami University. Some people in my community wanted me to attend Spelman College. However, I felt I was a little too eccentric for an all-Black school. My Godmother didn't believe I could get into my top college choices. She also didn't believe I'd ever leave the Midwest. My college advisor/homeroom teacher telephoned my mother to voice her concern over my selective list of out of state liberal arts colleges. My mother told my college advisor that she trusted my decisions. My father and stepmother didn't want to fill out financial aid forms. The tussle over this issue led me to have a mini-breakdown on the telephone at school. I applied early decision to Sarah Lawrence College in the fall of 1989. I received my acceptance letter and financial aid package a few days before Christmas break. It was one of the best Christmas gifts I've ever received.
