I remember when I first got that acceptance letter, that golden ticket, my one way direct flight out of nowhere New Jersey.
My mom cried, cried and said “You deserve this mija.”
I deserve this.
I swear, in that moment, nothing looked as beautiful as that flimsy, Northwestern branded, piece of paper.
It tasted sweet.
As sweet as the fruit of generations of labor. Of struggle. Of loss.
It felt like finally: I was worth something.
Affirmative action kid. Affirmative action kid you don't belong here. We don't want you here.
5 students killed themselves last year but, we don’t talk about it.
Instead, we reminisce fondly about freshman year
“Damn we were so fucked up every weekend.”
We repress the memories of us drinking to forget and we forget taking turns holding each other’s hair back as we cried, mouths tasting like tears mixed with bile and a faint tingle of strawberry flavored vodka.
Sweaty basements and sticky floors.
White boy grabs my arm in a darkened room and slurs “You're soooo exotic looking.”
I spend hours in the shower after scrubbing my skin raw to rid myself of his touch.
Affirmative action kid you don't belong here. We don't want you here.
Remember when I skipped class for 3 weeks because I just couldn't muster the energy to get out of bed?
And I mean why should I?
The people in my race and society class made the brilliant revelation that racism does, indeed, exist, ladies and gentlemen *gasp* big shocker right?
I told my mom I might go to therapy, she said “oh, you're crazy now?”
Lately, I’ve been cutting my hair so I don’t cut myself, but i'm running out of length to cut.
Cut. When will this horror movie end?
Oh! you’ve just received an email from Todd Adams
“Sending you good thoughts: During finals, stress levels can run particularly high, and the amount of work may seem daunting. This is normal”
This is normal?
I live day to day.
Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. In that order.
If this is a normal existence, I don’t want it.
Affirmative action kid you don't belong here. We don't want you here
Remember the time I overdrew my bank account?
My mom yelled and yelled but I couldn't hear her over the “thank yous” I received for ordering the uber
Rich kids pay tens of thousands of dollars to secure a spot here
Money I couldn’t even dream of
I paid in blood sweat and tears, so why do I feel like the imposter here?
“Oh you went to public school?” he said. “Well at least you turned out well.”
I come home for the holidays and my Abuela asks me “cómo estás?”
Fine. I say through a tight smile. Great even. School is great. Chicago is great, I’m doing great.
My mom possesses more Northwestern gear than I do.
Her favorite thing to do is show me off to any person that might glance her way.
“Oh my daughter?” She gleams “She goes to Northwestern.”
My brother says he wants to be just like me when he grows up.
So many people are depending on me.
I’m the one that got out, right? I have this amazing, shiny future ahead of me, but I can’t seem to look past today.
I carry the weight of my world on my shoulders but I’m drowning.
And I can’t breathe.
Affirmative action kid. Affirmative action kid, you don't belong here. We don't want you here
Affirmative action kid, you don't belong here. We don't want you here.
Affirmative action kid, you don't belong here.
I don’t belong here.