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Chicago is a diverse city, but I learned quickly that my college of study was very white. I was surrounded by white people. I do not state that in a negative way. Being around so many white people was something I was simply not accustomed to. Before college, every school I attended had a population of mostly black students. That was all I had ever known, so it was a little uncomfortable for me. I went from being a part of the majority to being an extreme minority. I did say I wanted something different from college though, right? Goodness gracious. Including myself, there were a handful of students of color in my freshmen class. There were students of other ethnicities, but for the most part, it was a white-dominated atmosphere. You get the point. Not only was there but a sprinkle of us minorities in the program, I was the only black girl in our freshmen class of performing arts students. How the heck does that even happen? I wondered whether or not other black girls auditioned for the school because I had no one else in our class who looked like me—black and female. Fortunately, the black males in my class were cool people. Talented, adventurous, and supportive. We looked out for each other.
We initiated a tradition called “Coloreds Night,” when we would periodically get together to just hang out and have fun. I know the term “Coloreds” may be derogatory, but that was not the intention. We shared some fun, goofy times together. Even though it was freezing cold in Chicago during the school year, we would walk through the parks by Lake Michigan, stroll down the streets singing gospel songs and dancing, visit art museums (Yay, for free student admission days!), or meet up in the dorms to chill out and vibe to the mellow sounds of Erykah Badu, Jill Scott or whatever Neo Soul Artist we felt like hearing. Those times were great because in those moments, I did not feel like a minority. I was comfortable and felt like I belonged.
The way our performance arts college program was set up, we operated and moved together as a class. What I mean by that is, all of our classes, except for Gen Ed classes, were spent with the same people. So, the acting majors I began with were the same acting majors I would see all day, every day for the next four years. To introduce the new freshman class, our professors put together a freshman showcase, allowing us to showcase a snippet of our talents to upperclassmen, teachers, and each other. Apparently, everyone wanted to see what we could do and what we would be bringing to the program.
To choose the pieces we would perform, we had to present multiple monologues and/or ideas, and the acting professors chose which ones would be a good fit for the showcase. The monologue chosen for me was one of my favorites from my monologue repertoire. The monologue is about a woman confronting her man, who left her to be with a white woman. Powerful monologue but an awkward piece to perform in a room full of white people. I chuckle when I think about it now, but I can understand how performing a piece such as that one to introduce myself may have come off as somewhat intimidating to some. I did what I knew, applied what I was trained in high school and executed a strong performance every night of the showcase. Overall, the freshman showcase was a fun time, but being the only black girl in the class, I felt out of -place.