At only 18 years old, Anika was making a difference in her family by being the first to go to a four-year university – one in DC, at that. Her family couldn’t be prouder of her – especially her mother. Her mother was so proud that her baby girl was accomplishing more than she could ever dream. College had always seemed like a luxury the family couldn’t afford – but in spite of the odds, Anika made it happen. She knew that what she was doing was going to be a game changer for not only her, but her entire family.
Yet, as the first two weeks of classes came and went, Anika was faced with a starker reality than she had anticipated. Far from the comforts of home and in a school with a painfully small minority community, Anika was sent a text message from a new friend.
“Beware fellow black girl!” It read, “Apparently there’s a frat throwing pennies and rotten bananas at black girls. Four freshmen girls have already been hit. I need to leave this school.”
Horrified, Anika quickly packed her comfy on the quad and rushed over to her dorm room. Her eyes darted left and right as she sped down walkways with her books clutched to her chest. Quickly, she turned her head to see if anything suspicious was happening behind her. Yet all she noticed were the curious looks she was getting from all around her. She could only imagine what they were thinking – or even saying amongst their friends. She felt foolish.
As she got closer to her dorm, she slowed from her flustered hurry to a timid walk. She was anxious, there was no doubt – but she convinced herself there was no reason to act like a madwoman.
The residence hall doors were well within sight now. She was now amongst a pod of students also making their way to the dorms. She felt at ease. She was sure that by now she was clear of any danger – but she was not. As she fell towards the back of the pod, she could hear the boys behind her chatter and snicker. She initially didn’t pay it any mind, until their quiet chatter turned to rather disconcerting harassment. Yet, by the time she realized the predicament she was in, she was being assailed with coins and blunt objects.
Just as quickly as the attack began, it ended. The boys ran from the scene snickering as they reveled in their delinquency and Anika stood silently in the litter of her assailants. She looked about her for a friendly face or soothing comfort, but was met with nothing. Her peers walked past her as though she were invisible – and for moment she truly wished she were.
Her cheeks were burnt by her rage and embarrassment. Her eyes brimmed with confusion. Her fists clenched against her side in indignation.
She screamed in internally with deep-seeded anger. She wished more than ever that her family could tell her what to do. She wished more than ever to go back to being a little girl without a care in the world. But Anika wasn’t a little girl anymore.
And like the four other girls on that day and scores of black women before her, Anika now had a choice. She could stay, be loud, and demand a change, or be quiet, focus on her studies, and leave – but the choice is ultimately hers to make.
