Leaving the Fold

During my walk to Anderson, I feel flushed. My hands are clammy and my pulse is
elevated. Hey, girl! Do you have your card? My sorority sister extends her hand, takes my
attendance card and marks me as present. I head into the auditorium to join the rest of my sisters
and take a seat on the back row. Ive always been more comfortable heresitting down front
means exerting social energy that, especially on today, I dont have to give.

CRIME ALERT: James Meredith Statue Noose Vandalism

Oh my goodness. My heart drops reading the subject line and it sinks lower and lower
with every word of the e-mail. Apparently, someone has put a noose around the neck of the
James Meredith statue. I sit in the cafeteria of the Luckyday Residential College suddenly devoid
of an appetite, even though a plate of hot, delicious food is sitting there in front of me. I throw
the plate away and make my way to my dorm room. I suppose I made my wayI could have
levitated for all I knowI didnt see any faces on the way through the corridor and up the stairs.
I feel a void. In fact, I feel like a void. Empty in the saddest way.
When I decided to go to Ole Miss, I was quickly met with statistics about the black to
white student ratio. Even though I already attended Horn Lake, a predominately White school in
Desoto County, I was always told how hard it would be for me, always being the only one. More
than anything, people asked me, Why you goin to that racist school? In jest theyd say, You
know them white folks gone hang yo ass, right?
Id always figured that since Id spent four years being the minority at Horn Lake, Ole
Miss couldnt be too much worse. Plus, cash rules everything around me and Ole Miss was
dishing it out, so Id laugh it off and come back with a snide comment about how much better

my financial aid package was sure to be than theirs. Today, however, I feel like they may have
been right after all. I think back to my John P. Freeman Middle school days in my true hometown
of Memphis and I miss them so much. John P. Freeman Middle was an Optional School in the
predominately Black neighborhood of Whitehaven. It was known across the city for its highachieving Black studentsparents sat outside of the District Office like it was Black Friday
when it came time to register, just so their kid would have a chance to go to the school. Looking
back on it now, it is like a mini-HBCU. There were exactly two white teachers and one white
studentevery one of my classmates was Black and we were like a small family. I was more of
myself at John P. Freeman than Ive ever been because there was no pressure to change or
conform. I didnt have to codeswitch because my native AAVE tongue was just fine. I didnt
have to be embarrassed about listening to hip-hop and rap music or about dancing to it because
we all did. Most of all, I was always made to feel like the sky was the limit and that nothing
could hold me back from achieving everything that I wanted to achieve but me. Today, when I
feel so weak and broken down, I miss that feeling of invincibility. I miss the days when I felt like
my Blackness wasnt a burden.
At this point, Ive been at Ole Miss for two years and each year, there has been some sort
of racial incident, My first year, when Obama was re-elected, a group of angry students went
outside the Union and burnt campaign signs and chanted, The South Will Rise Again. The first
concerned call of many that day came from my mom at 2AM. When I went home after the
incident, at family dinner, I had to assure everyone that the campus wasnt in ruins and that I was
unharmed.
The process that the mind goes through after these kinds of incidents should be in
textbooks. Its quite similar to the stages of grief. Theres the denialdenying that theres a real

problem on this campus, or in this region for that matter. There are racists everywhere, Its
just one eventthis doesnt happen all the time, The media really makes it a bigger deal than
it is. Then, theres the anger. The thing about the anger is you cant really just be angry. Theres
never time for you to sit and think about how wrong these things are and how you deserve to feel
mad about them. You cant go to class and not be chipper and cheer and up for everyone because
you dont want to be the angry black woman. So the anger is shut up inside and its only
released when youre around people that can really relate to you. You have to bottle it back up
quickly, though. Then comes the bargaining, the point at which you know what everyone said is
trueyou dont belong here. If only youd gone somewhere else, you wouldnt be dealing with
this now. Then, theres the depressionwishing you didnt have to be here anymore, wondering
why people take so much joy in making you feel so terribly and why its your responsibility to
remain calm in the face of it all. Finally, theres acceptance. You take another look at that
financial aid package, remember that youll graduate with no debt, and grin and bear it. You start
a countdown of days until youre free and you keep it movinguntil the next time it happens
and it starts all over again.
As I sit in chapter this Sunday, just a day after the incident, Im stuck smack in the middle
of the depression state. Im liable to burst into tears at any moment and I feel like Im wearing a
sign on my forehead that says so, but I also have to keep up the act. I must be doing a pretty good
job because, so far, none of my sisters has even brought up the incident.
I came to college a very conservative girl, and in the first couple of months, I just
couldnt seem to find my niche anywhere, despite my involvement in the Honors College and the
Luckyday Scholars Program. My roommate had made best friends with people from our
Luckyday Class, but I hadnt found my group yet. I saw a flyer about an Interest Meeting about a

group called Sigma Phi Lambdathe tagline read Sisters for the Lordand my interest was
piqued instantly. At the interest meeting, I met the officers of the Sorority, two of which were
black girls. I scanned the room of interests and noticed two more black girls. Back then, I noticed
this but it was hardly important to me; I guess it was just force of habit to make myself aware of
the number of black people in the room. About a week later, I made the decision to join Sigma
Phi Lambda. Why? Id just gotten to this new place with so many new people but I still felt so
lonely. I felt like if I identified with a group, I wouldnt feel that loneliness anymore. Plus, the
group was Christian and at the time that was most important to me. Id bought into the idea that
race didnt really mattersurely if Christ brought us together in friendship, something as trivial
as race wouldnt make a difference.
Ive zoned out for the entire chapter meeting. By the time I snap back into things, its
over. My sisters are gathered back at the front of the auditorium, conversing excitedly with one
another. Before we leave, are there any prayer requests?
I stand amazed at the fact that Ive suffered through this meeting the way I have and not
one of my sisters has actually seen me enough to know something was wrong. No mention was
made of the vandalismit was like it never even happened. Even in a Christian sorority, Christ
couldnt compel them past their own privileged view of the world.
That event stuck with me for a very long timesuffering in silence in a room full of
sisters and having not one person reach out or even mention it. That summer, The Meridian
Freedom Project happened. I spent my Junior summer in Meridian, MS teaching reading to 6th
gradersall black sixth graders. The program, modeled after the Freedom Schools in MS of the
Civil Rights Era, had a heavy focus on Black history. The majority of the other student teaching
interns were Black as wellit was like being back at John P. Freeman. I watched my students,

whom I loved dearly, be as unapologetically Black as I was when I was their age. As the weeks
went by, I codeswitched less and less, I danced more and more and I was less and less reserved.
Again, in the environment of high-achievement and Blackness, I felt more like myself than Id
ever felt. I began to see the ways that Id modified who I was in order to fit in with the girls in
my Sorority and it made my head hurt to think about going back to school and putting the mask
back on.
Over the summer, I recalled that meeting and I pondered the possibility of leaving the
Sorority, but what held me back was the religious aspect. By saying Phi Lamb wasnt right for
me, was I saying Christ wasnt either? After all, he is the one that brought us together.
I really struggled at the intersection of race and religion, but what tipped the scales one
way was the murder of Mike Brown. Id just come back from such an affirming experience in
Meridianmy Blackness wasnt a burden anymore and I loved the way that I felt so much that I
would fight fiercely to protect it. I was on Twitter when the news about Mike brokeI saw the
tweets from the man that watched the incident happen from his living room. A young black boy
gunned down in the middle of the street, his body left there for hoursmy heart was broken. I
cried night after night over the incident and the events that followed showed me that race was not
innocuous. In America, Blackness was an automatic indictment of a crime that could easily turn
into a death sentence. Something in me changed in an instantI was suddenly conscious of the
harsh realities of the world around me with all of its injustice and nuances. I questioned
everything, even my beloved Christianity. I began to see the ways that religion had manipulated
me and I tore myself away. It took almost an entire year after that torturous meeting, but I made
the decision then to leave that sorority and to never carve myself up the way that I did ever again,

to never force myself into a space where people wouldnt see the whole me and accept me for it
all.
Now, almost two years after leaving the fold, I am doing better than ever. I went through
a period of depression that I believe was connected to my newfound skepticism of religion.
Growing up in a staunch Christian household, its hard to navigate outside of that space without a
measure of guilt. Ive learned on the way to challenge everything and delve deeply for answers
myself and never to allow anyone to speak or think for me. One of my biggest fears after leaving
Phi Lamb was that the loneliness that brought me there would return. Fortunately, soon after I
left, I got a job here in Oxford at Panera where I met two girls who now my best friends on
campus. My friendships with them affirmed and healed me in so many ways.
Along the way, I found the courage to pursue something that Id dreamed of as a little girl
membership in Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Incorporated. I felt that this experience would be
the antithesis of my Phi Lamb experience because Delta was founded by black women and
focuses its service efforts primarily in the Black community. Gaining membership into such a
prestigious organization would be no easy taskthose selected had to strike a perfect balance
between great student, worthy representative and loving sister. Thankfully, I was selected and I
am now a proud member of Delta Sigma Theta! As I suspected, my experience in Delta has been
worlds different from my Phi Lamb experience. I dont have to carve myself into acceptable
pieces for my sisters in Deltathey see and celebrate all of me, and Im overjoyed to do the
same for them.