At what cost?
By Gloria Odoemelam
When I stepped back onto campus for the first day of the winter quarter, my body went rigid. “We’re back in the combat zone,” I told myself. “Take a deep breath. Stand straight. Look serious. Don’t let them see you sweat — Don’t let them break you.” That morning I felt inclined to wear all black and my high-rise Doc Martens boots. I had an uneasiness in me that I didn’t know what to make of. For some reason, I felt like I needed to protect myself. To be strong enough when walking across Town Square and feeling like the only Black woman for miles or sitting in a classroom and feeling lonelier than ever when the discussion skirts uncomfortably around the topic of race.
But why would I need to protect myself in a community that is supposed to inspire pivotal personal growth and meaningful relationships? Why does it instead feel like everyone is in masks, contorting themselves into whatever version the GSB and Silicon Valley touts as ‘‘success’’ that year? Am I wearing one too and if so, at what cost?
At the end of the first week back, I returned to my room and exhaled deeply. I was exhausted, struggling to catch my breath the entire weekend, so I embarked on a San Francisco day trip naively thinking I could run away from my feelings. Instead, I found myself pacing back and forth outside of a restaurant with tears streaming down my face. I’d reached a new low — a panic attack at brunch of all places. It felt like the confident, curious, jovial person I spent years beautifully forming into was withering away. It became hard to differentiate if I was experiencing the elusive ‘‘personal growth’’ everyone at the GSB keeps raving about, or if I was under attack.
The GSB can feel like a community of contradictions. How does JMAC feel simultaneously busy and lonely? How do you pour your heart out at an SGD one night, only for the people you attended with to walk right past you the next day? How do wellbeing and mental health matter but silently you’re expected to show up for class and events even when you’ve caught the latest virus that’s going around? How do we have TALK in which people bravely reflect on defining life moments, yet suffer in silence about their daily struggles? How can we change the world when there’s a silent pact to avoid talking about race and oppression in all its forms?
These questions raced through my mind as I stood outside of that brunch spot. This was the familiar unease I felt while on campus and why I had my guard up. A few days later when I unfurled this moment of despair with my therapist, I was asked what brings me joy and what I happily lose time doing, or in GSB-speak, what matters most to me.
What flashed into my mind was the time I spent in fall quarter designing and assembling a jewelry piece in my JMAC room at 2am, laughing to no end in Arbuckle with my closest friends here, creatively expressing myself at GSB show rehearsals, or spending two hours on FaceTime catching up with family and my oldest friends. Those were my unmasked moments. The moments I felt most like myself. Have I been fully leaning into that part of myself here and if not, what’s stopping me from pursuing that relentlessly? At what cost will I choose to keep my mask on, eschewing those truths to chase an unrealistic ideal and external validation that will never come?
Those were my unmasked moments. The moments I felt most like myself.
This reflection was my moment of eureka. I realized that the cost was my authenticity. My wonderfully unique self. I remembered that I’ve known who I am, what I stand for, and what I want even before I stepped onto this campus. In fact, I actually think I’ve grown here. I’ve gained an even stronger conviction of who I am, what matters most to me and now how much it matters to me.
I am the confident, curious, jewelry-obsessed, truth-seeking, family and friend-loving Black woman you see strutting through campus in high-rise Doc Martens. What matters most to me is my authenticity and the inner peace I gain from expressing the truest version of myself. There is no mask worth wearing to shield that. Through the good and bad, I choose to thrive here unencumbered, focusing relentlessly on what matters most to me because that is priceless.
I guess this is the personal growth everyone keeps raving about.
Editor: Emy Makakalala
