#blackgirlgradschool

[blackgirlgradschool]

Carter Mathes, Cheryl Wall, Evie Shockley (left to right)

Brent Edwards (unpictured)

This is my dissertation committee. They happen to be three (four if you count Brent) of the most intelligent, most emotionally available and sound, most supportive human beings I’ve ever encountered in the academy.

And I realize, this, and most of my experience at Rutgers University, is an anomaly for young black girls (or women, or however we identify) in the academy. I will personally add that my experience is even more foreign for women in the humanities. I believe this to be especially true of Literatures in English.

When I say my experience, I mean that I was not completely defeated by my decision to loan my brain, my ideas and ingenuity, to an institution never designed for my undeterred success. 

I was able to:

Endure the rigorous bootcamp that is three years of course work, otherwise known as three years of consuming more material than you might ever be able to truly process and understand in any logical or useful manner.

For 7 years, impart knowledge into fledgling undergrads needy of writing and poetry comprehension skills. Somehow without damaging most of them for life. 

Identify a list of entirely too many books (all African American literature, all written between 1750 and 2013) that I studied and created effective discourse around.

Pass a 2-3 hour oral exam on those previously discussed books.

In my own time, and definitely in my own way, complete the dissertation.

With ease, and grace, and damn good reception from my committee, defend said dissertation. 

Graduate (a ceremonious piece of closure many of us forgo) … with a whole host of other doctors … a surprising amount of them being women of color.

I, of course, still have my own drama to work through around the academy. But the point is, I’m on the other side now. And from that side, I can still see that it needs work. I can still see, even from my privileged state of having done it my way (as Frank Sinatra, and then Jay Z might say), that there is so much more work to be done. Period.

And isn’t that the deep dark place from which guilt emerges: a beautiful but painful meeting of skill, and talent, and bitter conviction that you could be, but are not, doing more? 

Isn’t that what makes you look at a picture at 6 am and begin writing a full length blog about nothing and everything at the same time?

Do not leave the arena to the fools.

Words given to me by Toni Cade Bambara via Nikky Finney in a crowded Hampton University auditorium years before I would even enter the academy. 

Words by which, even today, I’m bound. 

Fuck.

Currently, my only plausible and authentic response.

I’ll figure it out though. In (my own) due time.

[jillisblack]

If you're someone who has ever used the hashtags #melaninonfleek or #blackgirlstraveltoo or #carefreeblackgirl or #blackgirlgradschool while drinking #mimosas then you know that middle school-age white girls are always involved in some dangerous, codependent friendship trio. Yeah, there are always three of them and you know it because you've seen it. The names are mostly regional, but there's at least one Amanda and she's probably taller than the other two. There's also one who draws/likes horses a lot. And rounding out the group is the one who will inevitably vacate the "trio of normalized shame" to become popular or change schools in the 10th grade, never to be heard from again. One of them is obsessed with a band/a show on Comedy Central. It's almost definitely Amanda but it also doesn't matter which one of them it is either, so let's just go ahead and move on from that, okay? Anyway, they basically spend all of 7th grade scaring each other into practiced friendship submission. They challenge each other's theoretical individuality by threatening social isolation and abandonment on a weekly basis. Their love is a complicated love, I guess. That's not really the point of this post, though. I'm actually trying to tell you that I once stole $10 from a girl in middle school and I still feel like I deserved that money and so I wanted to manipulate you out of your empathy for the person I stole from--who definitely cried--by reminding you of some things that could explain why. But basically I'm not sorry like, at all, and I just felt like it was time for an update on the status of my feelings around it in case she's watching. Get a life already if you are. #selfie #hillaryclinton #istheonewholikedhorses #sorememberthatandtakeitintoconsiderationatthepolls #peanutbutterandjellysandwichesgalore #reparations #statewidebandcompetitions #saysomethingamanda #saysomethingandseewhathappens #youwereinasmallcult #someonecriedeveryfriday #blackgirlswereconfused #andispentthattendollarsonextrafrenchfriesin1999 #soidontevenhaveittogivebacktoyourightnow

[naturalwithattitude]

Grad School Jitters

I get nervous when I have to email my grad school advisor. Like my stomach gets all knotty. I have this irrational fear that he is going to text me one day and be like "girl, we were just kidding when we let you into this PhD program!" Imposter syndrome is real and I have an early onset case of it.

[blackgirlgradschool]

NWSA Graduate Scholarship

NWSA will award $1,000 to a student who, in the fall of the year of the award, will be engaged in the research or writing stages of a Master's Thesis or Ph.D. Dissertation in the interdisciplinary field of women's studies. The research project must enhance the NWSA mission. This opportunity is open to current NWSA individual members. Requirements: Current individual membership Online application form (preview here) PDF of CV sent to awards@nwsa.org Two letters of recommendation sent to awards@nwsa.org APPLY ONLINE HERE Deadline: May 15 each calendar year

[blackgirlgradschool]

Here’s How to Stop Hiding.

The thing about starting a blog about grad school, was that it forced me to be accountable to you all.  The thing about digital space, is that in order to stop being accountable to you, all I had to do was just stop writing.

Well, I didn’t stop writing. But I certainly stopped writing about grad school. 

The thing about being an overachieving academic who deeply cares about literature - and cares even more deeply about black women writing, and writing about literature - is that, even when not being responsible to you, I must be accountable to myself. 

And so I still have these nagging feelings about my relationship to the academy. About how the academy stifles my relationship to other items on the agenda of what I consider my life’s work. And still, I know I’m compelled to write in ways only acceptable (and accessible) to those who, too, have experienced this same journey.

You know, the one where for 7-10 years you convince yourself that you’re not right enough, that your thoughts are all unoriginal, and then somehow, at the end of it, you realize you were onto something all along. And for that, they call you a doctor. 

Anyways ... this wasn’t supposed to be about me. It’s really for anyone else who’s experience of the academy sent them running. 

The thing about the degree, is that no one can take it from you. The thing about the ideas, is that they are your own, and only fully articulated when uniquely expressed by you. 

The thing about fear is that it’s false. And also that it’s something you’ve felt before. And also it’s not worth not facing. 

If you must write, write. If you must teach, teach. If you must destroy the academy and all that it stands for by any means necessary, in order to rebuild it as a safe and accessible space for all. Yea, do that too. That’s hella necessary. 

Whatever it is, remember that you need not hide from it. You wouldn’t have been called if it weren’t for you. You wouldn’t hear the calling if you weren’t ready. 

So, be still. And listen. And then interrogate. And then listen some more. What are you being called to do?

Spoiler: this isn’t just about the academy. But, you knew that.

[jillisblack]

If you're someone who has ever used the hashtags #melaninonfleek or #blackgirlstraveltoo or #carefreeblackgirl or #blackgirlgradschool while drinking #mimosas then you know that middle school-age white girls are always involved in some dangerous, codependent friendship trio. Yeah, there are always three of them and you know it because you've seen it. The names are mostly regional, but there's at least one Amanda and she's probably taller than the other two. There's also one who draws/likes horses a lot. And rounding out the group is the one who will inevitably vacate the "trio of normalized shame" to become popular or change schools in the 10th grade, never to be heard from again. One of them is obsessed with a band/a show on Comedy Central. It's almost definitely Amanda but it also doesn't matter which one of them it is either, so let's just go ahead and move on from that, okay? Anyway, they basically spend all of 7th grade scaring each other into practiced friendship submission. They challenge each other's theoretical individuality by threatening social isolation and abandonment on a weekly basis. Their love is a complicated love, I guess. That's not really the point of this post, though. I'm actually trying to tell you that I once stole $10 from a girl in middle school and I still feel like I deserved that money and so I wanted to manipulate you out of your empathy for the person I stole from--who definitely cried--by reminding you of some things that could explain why. But basically I'm not sorry like, at all, and I just felt like it was time for an update on the status of my feelings around it in case she's watching. Get a life already if you are. #selfie #hillaryclinton #istheonewholikedhorses #sorememberthatandtakeitintoconsiderationatthepolls #peanutbutterandjellysandwichesgalore #reparations #statewidebandcompetitions #saysomethingamanda #saysomethingandseewhathappens #youwereinasmallcult #someonecriedeveryfriday #blackgirlswereconfused #andispentthattendollarsonextrafrenchfriesin1999 #soidontevenhaveittogivebacktoyourightnow

[kholioli]

When @boi.doula types #totes so I can know the #teamdrkholi #love for #mydissy is real. 😻 #drkholi #finallygettingout #blackgirlgradschool

[kholioli]

When it's just you, #hov, and your #undereyeluggage tryna wrap up this #drkholi ish. 💀 #truelife #imover #blackgirlgradschool #itbelikedatsometimes

[kholioli]

Oh, Jesus. Make me wonderful. #gradlife #drkholi #actuallymay26 #tonimorrison #sula #womenwriters #blackgirlgradschool (at blackgirlgradschool.com)

[blackgirlgradschool]

Each time she said the word me there was a gathering in her like power, like joy, like fear. Back in bed with her discovery, she stared out the window at the dark leaves of the horse chestnut. ‘Me,’ she murmured. And then, sinking deeper into the quilts, ‘I want…I want to be…wonderful. Oh, Jesus, make me wonderful.'

Toni Morrison, Sula -- A meditation for March 24, 2015.

[kholioli]

That is the continuing task we face, as revolutionary #black #artists and #intellectuals, to make Cultural Revolution ..." -- #barakataughtme #kanye #didtoo #amiribaraka #blackpower #blackartsmovement #freedomtime #blackgirlgradschool (at http://blackgirlgradschool.com)

[kholioli]

On this day, I do #givethanks. Not solely for #armedforce #veterans who have fought to preserve American land and bodies, but also for those who have fought/arestillfighting to #freeAmericanminds. #blackgirlgradschool #inonewayoranother #weareallwarriors -- #gradlife #writingisrevision #drkholi (at http://blackgirlgradschool.com)

[kholioli]

#latergram -- finding it incredibly difficult to respect myself while wearing #redlipstick and a #backpack. It appears as though it's purple. But it's actually like a #neon #tiedye of sorts. -- #dontjudgeme #ihaveashittonofreadingtoday #andimalready #judgingmyself -- #gradlife #blackgirlgradschool #drkholi (at http://blackgirlgradschool.com)

[kholioli]

Who was I kidding?! We all knew I wasn't waiting until tomorrow. There's a new #blog up on #blackgirlgradschool.com ... Basically singing the praises of #daphnemuse #ajuanmance and #maryloupatterson + that #olinlibrary #rarebook exhibit. 📚 (at http://blackgirlgradschool.com)

[blackgirlgradschool]

Reflections on On These I Stand: An Exhibit of Rare Black Books and Collectibles --> Conversation and Q&A (Ajuan Mance, Mills College professor of English, and Daphne Muse, writer and collector) Sunday, November 2, 2014 2:00 pm–4:00 pm F. W. Olin Library, Mills College Today this happened. And for your sake, I'll spare all the discussion of how I have another chapter deadline for November 15, 2014 and how I've been writing but mostly procrastinating by watching The Carrie Diaries ... and just say ... one of the main issues with sitting alone in a room (or a coffee shop, or a library, or wherever it is that we give hours of our lives to research only to have to present for approval or for the annoying necessity of advancing to some other aspect of academic rigor - moving on to some new and enhanced proverbial hoop) is that (well at least if you consider yourself to be a writer, a cultural worker, a griot of sorts) in all of this "research" and paper writing, we often forget the reasons we began this journey in the first place. And trust me, we all have them. Follow me for a moment: When I get asked, "Why'd you go into a Ph.D. program," I most often recite aloud, "Because going home was not an option and I discovered that people would pay me to read." This is not true. Ok, well, it's kind of true. I did discover that people would pay me to read. However, entering an English Ph.D. program, at least for me, was never a question of commerce or dire necessity. It was honestly my first leap toward a true joy I desperately believed I deserved. Ok, it was really a commitment to the pure satisfaction I believed would be derived from one day calling myself "Dr. khoLi." I'll explain: I didn't decide to go to Rutgers because I couldn't go home. I made the decision knowing I had a place and a people that would claim me as theirs (whether I wanted to belong or not), and yet; I knew there must be others to whom I could look for a more well-rounded reflection of myself. I knew there were others who could "really get me." Books taught me this. In spite of all the difficulties of everyday life, books -more accurately, writers - showed me that I could and deserved and would undoubtedly create more ... for myself, and hopefully those around me as well. Toni Cade Bambara said, "Survival is the Issue." Today was my firm reminder. Watching Ajuan Mance, Daphne Muse, and Mary Lou Patterson discuss their work, I realized, the last 7 years has not necessarily been the giant waste of time it sometimes feels like in vain. I was reminded I've been doing the work of survival, the work of meeting my goal. <br I set out on a path to seek my joy; I set out to find a well-rounded reflection of myself as I hoped I could be, not necessarily as I'd been or as I'd known myself. In short, I went looking for other black girls completely obsessed with books and knowledge and asking the hard questions of the hard questions ... and I knew if I didn't find them ... I'd at least document that I had been there doing it. Ajuan Mance made my entire quest much simpler and my entire first chapter unnecessary when she shared her idea of "intellectual ancestry" today. Today I found I've survived a million times over. I was reminded I am always among intellectual ancestors. I was reminded that that's what all of you reading this are as well - intellectual ancestors, literally my sisters in the struggle. And so ... I'm just grateful. There's a bunch more I thought I'd say here, really smart points I was hoping to make, but honestly, "thank you," just about covers it.

So. Yea. Thank you.

with <3, khoLi.

[kholioli]

Today was like #blackgirlgradschool #heaven. -- The #rarebook exhibit happening @ #MillsCollege right now is absolutely amazing. 😻 This is a limited edition print of #faithringgold's illustrations of #martinlutherking's #letterfromabirminghamjail. (at F. W. Olin Library)