As I get older, I develop a deeper sense of appreciation for my parents. I can honestly say they have done a fantastic job of shaping me and my siblings into the people we are today. And I really respect everything they went through to get us here. Like many of you, my parents emigrated from Africa(Nigeria to be precise) to the UK in their late teens/ early twenties. Now that I’m a similar age to them when they made this huge and life changing move, I understand more and more just how significant what they did was. I can’t imagine completely leaving my life behind in one country to go to another, where I barely know anyone, and start a new life (not to say I never will). Realising the magnitude of what they had the courage to do all those years ago has given me somewhat of an epiphany. I’m not here to be mediocre, it’s time to level up and the same applies to you.
Seeing the words ‘Joe Bloggs added you to a group chat’ on Whatsapp can send cold chills down a person’s spine. You instantly think of ways to inconspicuously leave the group chat without causing a stir and to no avail settle on muting the group, hoping it will eventually go away on its own. With this being said, when you are in a group chat where the conversation is popping and the creative juices are flowing there’s something really magical about it.
As we’re becoming an exceedingly more “woke” generation sometimes I genuinely ask this question. Do black people overplay the race card? I’m sure this question has already ruffled some feathers, but I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. I asked myself this recently after seeing a story on social media of an experience someone I follow shared. In all honesty… I don’t think what happened to them was race related. I’m not going to delve too deeply into what actually happened, but it did make me start thinking about the numerous other race related incidents that I have seen plastered on social media.
Bare with me whilst I recall some events from the last year or so…
Okay, so first let me set the scene. 17 years old. Put the boring summer of 2017 behind me and I’m starting the 2nd Year of college. I’ve already heard the words ‘UCAS’, ‘application’ and ‘personal statement’ 60 times too many. So like a sheep, I start the process of applying to university because that’s all I’m being told to do. Fast forward to November of that same year and a pretty obvious thought occurs to me. Maybe I don’t have to go? Maybe I shouldn’t? So I kind of just… stopped. I ignored the emails. I avoided my personal tutor. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to hear it.