This week marks midterm season, which means a little over a month left to school. There seems to be, unecessarily so, a long laundry list of things to do before getting out of here. I don't have a problem with my classes (except, Swimming and my Playwriting class.) I recall when I first got accepted to Howard my recruiter said to me "It's a lot easier to get in then to get out." I didn't quite grasp her meaning until now. My problem is one of patience. I want to break free like those migratory birds and show the colors of my coat that I recently discovered. I have so much writing I want to do. I want to find a job. Prepare for my MFA program. Start my life! School seems to be holding me back.
That aside, there will be some things I will miss about being a Howard student. There's something mythic about this space. When my peers and I talk in class we can hear our voices reverberate against the walls. If you listen closely you can hear other voices blending with our own. When I enter certain classes, I hear Ossie Davis and Carter G. Woodson and Frederick Douglass joining in on our conversations about uplift and progress and being conscientious about imperialism.
So much to be missed. Yet, I feel as if I'm choking on my blood staying here.
