“Ain’t Yo Dad a Pastor?!”:How Being a PK Affected my Journey through College
Little did I know, the Dean would allow us to have our hopes up for the entire year, meet the AMA CEO as if he was intentional about supporting our organization, just to tell us about a month before the conference that they would not support us to attend. By this point it was too late to try to raise money to go and we had already entered competitions and had to forfeit our spot. Right then, I truly saw corruption taking up space in the corporate world, even at HBCUs. I was disheartened that a Black man could look a hopeful, young Black woman in the face, shake my hand, and lie to me. It wasn’t personal, but I took it very personally. Once we got news that we wouldn’t be able to attend and the organization kind of fell apart. By the time we knew, I had to transition into President, due to our former president having to abruptly leave the school. (Ironic that the girl who was told she couldn't serve at all is now President, huh? But that’s just how God works). We were burnt out from the work we did, just to be told at the last minute that we wouldn't be able to do what we set out to do. So, from there I was the only one who maintained the organization. I did everything by myself. EVERYTHING. As a PK, I watched my dad not know how to ask for help and try to fix everything, just in hopes of maintaining and staying afloat, and I noticed me repeating the same pattern, that was not effective in the slightest. But by this point I was so exhausted with trying to keep my own head above water; I was in a toxic relationship, failing classes left and right, and trying to graduate on time at the same time. So instead of continuing to fight, I let it go.
The Big Three: Chapter One: Part One
Before I know it, I reach my hand down a little further get a better grip on this weirdly heavy jacket and my hand touches something oddly shaped, cold and metal.
Instantly, my stomach drops.
He just brought a gun, in my apartment.
