International student calls for changes in perspectives

This semester, I spoke with a student who was frantically complaining of how she missed home after her first few days at Augustana. 

Something she said has stuck with me. 

“I felt like dirt. l felt dirty. I had an identity loss. How was I to find a person I never was?”

Each word hit me like a sword as it escaped her mouth.

That is a question I think we all need to ask ourselves: How am I to find a person I never was?

Only once you have answered that question will you know the true feeling of being a black international student in a predominantly white institution. Until then, you’ll have to stick with my explanation. 

In a place where everyone looks like you, you tend to not observe the similarities in appearance. Rather, you look for differences.

Once I came to Augustana, I did not notice that we all had eyes or that we all had mouths. 

What I noticed more so is that I was now a person of color, a minority. 

I noticed that when I spoke, people would often smile as though they heard me but had no idea of what I was saying. Some who were courteous enough would ask again and again, desperately trying to figure out what I had just said.

I also found myself in uncomfortable situations trying to explain how I am not from Africa in the sense that Africa is not a country. Rather, I am from Nigeria, so, I also found myself explaining that Nigeria is way more than just Lagos and Abuja.

To be a black international student in a predominantly white institution is to not expect too much, for everything added on top of your scholarship begins to feel like a favor. 

It is to continually be reminded that you are not the same as the domestic students. Therefore, the consequences are different. 

It is to constantly have the threat of deportation stalking you, waiting for the day you slip up. It’s the hurt you feel when an ignorant person says what they really think of you. It is the smiles that turn into stares. 

It’s the gatherings you have with your friends, where you can finally speak your heart and how you truly feel about certain matters. 

It’s understanding the value of your native language, your culture, your skin, your hair and your story. 

It’s the constant reminiscing of the times you couldn’t wait to leave your country and the acknowledgment of how far you have come. 

It is the deep sense of awareness. 

There is great hurt in miscommunication. That is why I hope you truly understand me and do not just take what you want from my words. 

To fully know us as black international students, you have to first understand us, and that is the beauty of things. A true effort in understanding us goes a very long way. 

To be a black international student in a predominantly white institution is to be strong and to be bold.