“Well, one, you’re African-American” are the words so carefully chosen by my high school theology teacher in describing why I should get into college. Not because of my intellect or my drive, but because of what I have no control over and more often than not, the future of my success would be determined by those judgements. As a young black girl, the product of a single-mother and financial instability, statistics show that the odds are against me, that my future will be the pinnacle of economic depravity and dependence. That will not be my future and only those with such shortsightedness are not able to see the passion and drive I possess, that I refuse to become another statistic.
Although my transcripts exhibit my academic and personal
Although my transcripts exhibit my academic and personal