I remember the time I was stirred from my sleep by the sound and sight of a young Black man being chased by a mob of white male students while being called the N-word, and the entire year when bricks were thrown through Black students’ apartment windows. There’s even the time when a brick was thrown through the window when I was working as a crisis hotline counselor because I would not support KKK propaganda while taking a hotline call. I lived in fear as a student there.
I have been blessed to have found an outlet for the current of life, in my friendships. These women have adopted me into their hearts and named me their sister. They say the word so effortlessly and fill it with a grace that smooths out my broken edges and difficult ways. They have been the very sponges to polish my jarring weaknesses. They have been God’s hands to uphold me in the midst of trauma, loss, heartbreak, and pain.