This is not a rant

This is not a rant, nor is it a self-righteous call to action by yet another wannabe freedom fighter with a defiant Afro. This is not a rant, nor is it a cry for pity, “Woe is me, black woman; bottom of the heap; last to be picked when all the blonde-haired belles and caramel-toned lovelies are gone; sacrificial lamb; servant. This is a public service announcement, a sad story told on a slow, humid afternoon in Grandma’s house, a word of encouragement to curb the tears. This may seem cliché, as if every young, idealistic black girl in every town could identify, but that is not the case. This is simply, the truth.

You stepped off the plane, head bursting with ideas, ready to take full advantage of the first-class education that you have been blessed with.  You would stride through the hallowed halls of higher learning echoing with…