I entered college to find freedom. Not the freedom to drink or stay up all night partying like most students leave home to find; my quest was academic freedom. The freedom to increase my knowledge without feeling I had to prove myself all the time. Learning wasn't ever my problem, being told I couldn't learn was.
I love to learn; studying has always been exhilarating rather than a chore. I excelled in school and scored exceptionally high on IQ tests. I skipped Kindergarten and the majority of high school. I knew the work of Benedict de Spinoza before I was 11. I'm not Doogie Howser, but I disproved Charles Murray and his pseudo-scientific book The Bell Curve on all levels (which is not very difficult for anyone to do I might add.) So it would appear on the surface that my success in school would be viewed as a blessing that would be nurtured by teachers, and a curiosity to other students. By no stretch of the imagination was this the case. The truth is, prejudices ran so deep most of the time that no one wanted to admit that an African American girl living in Utah was smarter than the majority of the kids in school and the other kids believed only what their parents and society told them-- which was "black people are stupid" regardless of the fact that the truth was staring them in the face.
There were several excuses used to downplay my intelligence, and the smaller the community, the worse it was. In elementary school for example, teachers wanted to hold me back because they questioned my learning skills saying I was quiet, and didn't ask questions. They even went so far as to say one mistake on a math problem (the first and LAST time I ever made it in my life) was enough to hold me back a grade. Of course none of these attempts ever worked and the proof was in my report cards. The only reason I didn't skip any more grades in elementary was because my mother still wanted me to be a little girl and not move too far ahead of myself. Do I regret her decision? No, because she was looking out for my welfare and I moved along at a fast enough pace anyway that it really didn't matter what grade I was in.
Junior high was a great deal better but I still ran into what I call the "golden students." These students were praised and pushed to excel no matter what the cost to other students, especially me. They were the ones who would win the school contests, get the top honors and whom all the students envied. I felt like the Rodney Dangerfield of academia! It wasn't as small a community as elementary school, so this kind of bias wasn't as blatant, and there were students who acknowledged I was smart, but they only wanted help with homework.
The need to prove myself, however, increased and I tended to overextend myself by participating in every scholastic endeavor I could. It started to pay off and I was recognized for my abilities, not held down because of them, but I began to doubt my own gifts. I was fed stereotypes over and over by the media and the world around me: boys are better than girls in math, whites score better than blacks on IQ tests, Asians are better than anyone in math and science. I could have given up entirely, but I didn't. I told myself that there was more to education than what I was dealt and these were all lies, and no matter how many statistics were gathered, no matter what "scientist", politician, or playground bully spewed the rhetoric, I would succeed.
The other problem I ran into in junior high was that I would find myself bored by the decreasing mental stimulation. Since the decision of what a student is going to learn is still really out of the hands of the student, I felt trapped by the minimal choices allocated to me. I began reading more and more from Graduate-level books in physics, math, and computer science, to the philosophy of Ayn Rand and Jean-Paul Sartre. A person doesn't have to be a prodigy to come to this dead-end in school. Cliques, the inadequacies of technology and textbooks at the elementary and secondary school level are enough to make any student want out.
By high school, I knew that this level of schooling was an obstruction. There were Advanced Placement courses, but the people who took those classes at my school took them only to advance their standing as class Valedictorian, not to gain any real knowledge. All the straight A's in the world couldn't keep me there anyway, so I made the best decision I've ever made: going to college years early. Those who didn't understand that there was life after high school would ask me "Aren't you going to miss prom, graduation, your friends?" They just couldn't comprehend that I could see my real friends anytime, and if I wanted to wear a gown and go out to dinner, I'll win the Pulitzer or the Nobel Prize, which is a more meaningful celebration than spending an evening with a guy in a rented tux. Others thought I was too young and would burn-out from taking on too much, too fast. All of those people couldn't have been more wrong.
From the moment I stepped onto University grounds, I knew that I would never look back. I didn't have to win math contests or science fairs to prove my mind is worth something, and I wasn't stifled by detractors who didn't want to believe in my ability. Some may argue that I might learn more on my own, and I am still definitely all for self-education, but there is a satisfaction that comes with knowing I am in a place where people are interested in more than parties and more than cheerleading, and what I think is as important as what anyone else in a class thinks.
The path in life I've chosen has shown me that it was the failings of the people around me that needed to be improved, not my own. I will unfortunately have to deal with this sort of prejudice wherever I am, but I don't feel blocked by the barrier I once did. My will to learn became stronger because of their biases. I know that intelligence is nothing to be ashamed of and being black and smart is not a myth, no matter what anyone says. I have gotten a head-start on my medical and engineering degrees, yet I still occasionally have my moments of pushing myself (like trying to finish writing a 48 page book of poetry in two weeks back in February for a book contest, something I wouldn't recommend even to Robert Browning) but it wasn't for anyone else's benefit, I was competing with myself. And though years haven't even passed since I've left, all the trouble I had to put up with is a distant memory. Freedom has many rewards and knowledge is indeed power and that no one will ever take away from me.
Send e-mail to Jamae Wilson and let her know what you think!
