NZ, E B A N I U O Y EVEN IF
L L I T S YOU A * * * N A IN A COUPE
HAILEY M. MANGRUM I wanted nothing to do with black people my freshman year of college. I thought it would hinder my success. Operating out of my own internalized racial oppression, my mindset was simple – the more white people in my network, the closer I was to success. The new me is literally cringing while writing this. But this story is important. This was my belief attending a historically white institution as a 16-year old Black woman. One day, someone asked me and my friends if we were attending a student organization meeting for Black women on campus. I responded, “Oh, probably not. That sounds like segregating yourself.” Looking back on this, I was assimilating --- striving for whiteness. I was also perpetuating the idea of the “good/uppity negro” --- a notion that depicts Black people serving in leadership capacities as presenting themselves as better than Black people they perceive not to be on their level. In that moment, I othered my own race with a “me versus them” mindset instead of viewing the situation with an “us” mindset. I was often the only one in these spaces. The only Black one, that is. I was involved with campus organizations that were over-resourced in funding, and I was always invited to serve as a student representative at meetings with high-level community leaders and administrators. During one meeting in particular, a Black board of trustees
member pulled me aside to offer advice on how to act so I could be successful. In other words, he wanted to ensure I knew the instructions for playing the game … the instructions for assimilating to whiteness. The way I internally oppressed my racial identity without realizing it was so natural --- yet dangerous --- during this period of my life. As a young student suffering from a combination of imposter syndrome and the effort needed to grasp hold of my Black identity, I was slowly but surely becoming part of the system. At the time, I thought it was an accomplishment to be the only Black student in a university-wide committee meeting, student group, or leadership board. I honestly thought I had “made it” because I was often the only person of color in the room. I was reluctant to realize I was a token and only granted access because I was one of the “good ones.”
All Eyes on Me During my first semester of graduate school, we were assigned to read an article titled “After Ferguson, Some Black Academics Wonder: Does Pursuing a Ph.D. Matter?” In typical graduate school fashion, we split into small groups to discuss our initial thoughts, takeaways, and questions to consider. As the only Black woman in
Issue #2 PERSPECTIVES 14
