When my friend and co-worker asked me to accompany her to Howard University’s Homecoming weekend, I thought “why not?” After all, this was my dream school back in high school. I’d spent countless hours scouring the school’s website, looking at the dormitories and brainstorming what organizations to join. I finally applied and was awarded multiple scholarships long before graduating the 12th grade. Little did I know, my fantasies would never become a reality as my mother decided that Washington, D.C. was no place for a 17-year old New Jerseyian who’s never lived away from home. So, buried alongside my high school memories were pent up feelings about not becoming a Bison. Worry not, I follow the “everything happens for a reason” mantra and couldn’t imagine not attending my own school.
Fast forward to present day as I start packing my weekend bag just an hour and a half before my bus departs Midtown Manhattan (I live in Brooklyn). Up until this moment, I’d been told that this famed celebration was a fashion show of sorts as guys and gals pulled out their best threads to model on the yard and at countless parties. You can imagine the anxiety I felt while struggling to find clothes worthy enough in my closet—I’m no fashionista. Ironically, I would end up wearing my girlfriends’ clothes all weekend as we mixed and matched ensembles inside our rented apartment not far from the school. Even the bus ride down to our country’s capitol played out the same. It may have been 12:30am, but girls were fully dressed as if a party awaited them at Union Station. As I waited in line, old friends were reunited and new ones were made as we all talked about the anticipated happenings. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I knew it would be something to remember.
Photo Credit: Stacy-Ann Ellis