Before I was a student at this college, I attended a private school in Brooklyn, NY. I went through an academic program for high acheiving 5th graders, called Prep for Prep. I went through intensive classes for the next 14 months, after which they got me interviewed at private schools. I strongly believe every child should have access to a good education, (whether public or private, the achievement gap is disturbingly large, and needs to be changed) because Prep saved my life.

It wasn’t until I was a senior in high school that I became fully aware of the racism surrounding me. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the school, the faculty, and most of the students as well. However, a few times every other month I came home in tears because of the depression I sustained from the oppression I felt in the halls. I am going to write about an event that happened around the college application process.

At lunch one day, I was speaking to a then friend of mine about the school I was applying to. (A school at which I am currently a student.) I was clearly very excited about my application, and about possibly gaining acceptance to the college. At the time, conversations about college applications were the focus of nearly every conversation amongst the Senior class. This pressure fostered an environment of extreme competition, not amongst friend groups, but between races.

My friends and I took notice of what appeared to be a race war, taking grip of the Senior class. The topic of the tension amongst the Senior class was discussed in numerous classrooms, affinity groups, and faculty meetings. Nearly everyone was attuned to the stress, some people chose to brush it off, and others tried to fight against it. I fell somewhere in the middle of the spectrum as I was not as aware of social injustices as I should of been, when this conversation took place.

ME: “I’m so excited, I’m applying to my first school in a few days. I’m freaking out.”

FRIEND: (unimpressed) “Why don’t you just apply Ivy?”

ME: “I’m not particularly interested in attending such a big school. The Ivys aren’t really my thing.”

FRIEND: “Well, you should just cash in your ticket instead of wasting it.”



The ticket of course being my last name, and the color of my skin. It wasn’t until I relayed this story to my best friends, that I realized what really just happened. Here’s a breakdown of what passed between us, for those of you, who like me, didn’t fully understand it. What my “friend” was saying was that I didn’t need to have any real merit to get into an Ivy League school, just my “ticket.” This was a stab at not just me, but everyone who through Affirmative Action, got the opportunity of attending a great college. Many people interpret Affirmative Action to mean: people of color getting into a school without really deserving to. (Which could not be further from the truth. Besides, no one likes to admit that everyone at an institution had some sort of an advantage at play for them: being an athlete, being a legacy, or being an exceptionally good performer.) This means that she is also doubting my ability to get into an Ivy League institution, without the use of my “ticket.” Another piece of this is that the friend is saying the school I am really excited about, isn’t worthy of my attention. (Which couldn’t be further from the truth!) So in a way, (a backhanded sort of way) I suppose my “friend” was paying me a compliment.