Author’s note: This is a piece for us by us. As an ally or a non-black reader, reflect on your role in our experiences. I encourage you to engage in dialogue, but understand that it is not our job to educate you.
In the last few weeks I have felt more Nigerian than I had ever felt before on this campus. I catch myself in my Calculus class slipping into my Nigerian accent, and everyone jokingly responds “What was that?” The more I fall back to my niche, the more hypervisible I feel in little old Brunswick.
My first days in America held a unique experience. I attended an “urban” middle school in St. Paul, Minnesota. On the second day, school police announced during lunch that there would be a lockdown drill. At 1:45 p.m., our teacher locked the door and everyone knew the routine.
February 14 is always a normal day until dinner time, when I notice Irene’s bowl of pink and red chocolate. A little too late in the day, I begin commemorating the day of love with the rest of the world.
As spring fashion week draws closer, I have deeply reflected on our own Brunswick runway. Although there is a fundamental difference between fashion and style, Bowdoin’s culture around both is worth exploring. The collective style at Bowdoin is predictable; only a handful of students maintain a creative and authentic style.
Highly selective activism—this is a term I have coined to describe Bowdoin’s advocacy. Our student body is proud of being a culturally sensitive campus that aims to uphold the common good. In my time here, there has been a lot of mobility and activism on campus surrounding issues regarding women’s rights, LGBTQ rights and, recently, DACA.
A few weeks ago, while scrolling through “The Shade Room,” a news platform on Instagram, I came across allegations against Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein, specifically his various acts of sexual harassment and assault towards his female colleagues.