The Weakest Link
When I was younger, I used to watch this British game show called “The Weakest Link”. A stern-looking White woman dressed in an all-black attire with a crisp tone would quiz a group of contestants about politics, literature, popular culture, cuisine and other topics. At the end of each round, each participant’s score would be tallied and announced, and the contestant with the lowest score would be labelled the weakest link. I loved that show because of the crisp tone of the host and also because of the thrill I got from trying to answer the questions myself. My pre-teen self would get so excited if I got an answer right! Unfortunately, I am no longer a dedicated viewer of that show; I am a contestant in the real-life version of it. My experiences in graduate school so far have been very similar to what happens on the show, and on several occasions, I have been left feeling like the weakest link.
There are five people in my cohort, all of us women. Each of us is highly intelligent and uniquely gifted thus our acceptance into the program. However, our access to resources and support within the program vary. Despite my program’s conviction that we are socially just, I quite believe that we are simply a reflection of the larger academic realm, where women of color particularly Black women are left out. The varying levels of access to resources within the department does not bother me often, until I am begun to be viewed as incompetent for not having the same access to resources. It is during those times that I am reminded that perhaps I am the weakest link.
Don’t get me wrong, I am fully aware of my intellect and capabilities. I know very well that I deserve to be there. However, when people constantly treat you like you do not know what you are about, or when professors chastise you for the same crimes they forgive other students for, I begin to question my own place in my program. I begin to wonder if indeed I have a lower level of understanding or I am dragging my entire cohort behind. Whenever I begin to have these doubts, I try to discuss it with my closest friends in my program. They are often extremely supportive and understanding but I feel like sometimes they too miss the point. As much as they might try to understand, they might not fully comprehend the feelings and doubts that I am grappling with. The other women of color might have a better understanding of my doubts, but even they might not fully grasp my concerns. It is no secret that among women of color, darker skinned women tend to have more experiences of discrimination and prejudice than lighter-skinned women of color. Well, I am the darkest-skinned woman of color in my cohort, so I suppose I drew the short stick. I am not discrediting their experience, I am only saying that my own experience and the colorism in the world make me feel like I am the weakest link.
I still have about 3 years to go in my program. I am neither hopeful nor jaded. There have definitely been times where I have felt accepted and supported by my program but the instances where I have felt defeated have been so many that I sometimes wonder if I will ever not be the weakest link.