Seven. A group of seven, sporadically chosen students of color from my private Massachusetts school. Acquaintances or strangers to each other. We knew mere facts about each other, like maybe the lunch table we sit at or our hang out spot: Foyer? Science Wing? Library? Basement? Only vague ideas existed about the people we would be spending our time with for the next four days. It was Wednesday in early December, my suitcase had been thrown into the cozy Hiatt Center bright and early. It’d be sitting there patiently waiting like a little kid ready to get picked up from school.
2:14 one second..two.....seconds....three seconds.....I stared at the clock waiting for the magic 2:15 to appear on my glossy Mac screen. Click, moments passed..YESSSS, that glorious feeling exploded inside me escalating my mood; I was so anxious and excited to see what was in store for the next four days. Never have I ever experienced a diversity event or program related through my school with classmates. I knew what the word “diversity” was, but I was bound to get a deeper real life definition in the next couple of days.
All of us students scrambled to the luminous white bus, then some teachers joined. Ms. Marsh handed me my airplane ticket. The bus was slightly quiet with Chimobi’s murmurs cracking jokes in the back enlightening the vibe. Lexi sitting next to me both on our phone’s multitasking and talking about what would happen next. The chill teachers in the front of the little mini bus discussing their adult driven convos while slowly transforming into this laid back person as we drove farther from the school building. Jess sitting in front of me with her headphones on, Kaila diagonal from me on her phone and Richard in the back bumping to his music with his Beats. Moe was right behind me with one headphone plopped in his ear, leaving the other ear free to listen to Chimobi’s crazy stories about preparation for packing for this trip. I may have not known it then but I was sitting in the middle of the initiation of the SDLC 2011 fam bonding. Although we didn’t know each other the amazing connection amongst us human beings was crazy. We had one thing in common, minorities set out on the journey to experience the next four days of being the majority. A total reality switch up used as a learning experience. The beautiful Boston skyline during rush hour whizzing by on the expansive black tinted windows. My focused state of mind had kicked in, sitting, soaking in this moment like a bright yellow sponge slouched by the sink counter. I knew I’d remember this trip for a lifetime.

My school clique walked into the cavernous Philadelphia Convention Center the next morning. Feeling like small dolls in a barbie mansion; we had feelings composed of butterflies and excitement. We were surrounded by kids in the same state of mind as we walked to our destination. SDLC hadn’t officially started but it already felt like the community was initiating. Walking, talking, meeting minorities from all over the nation with the similar goals and state of mind as you was shocking, but in a good way of course. It hit me when all 3,000 students were seated on the ballroom floor, blanketing the whole rug surface in our criss cross applesauce positions.
The infamous sassy but wise Rodney had walked to the front of the room talking about his life story and connecting it to our situations in his prophetic voice. He prompted questions as he slowly walked through the mute ballroom. All eyes were on him. Our undivided attention had been captured. “Who is feeling lost, unwanted or even different in their community? Who needs to come up and let their feelings out? Talk to us. We’re a family now.” One kid shot up waving his hand at him initiating the first responses. He talked about his home and school situation, getting choked up as he continued. It was heartbreaking to listen to, and it fascinated me how he had the amazing courage to stand up in front of 3,000 students and share something extremely deep and personal.
Another girl frantically waved, she was in tears, trying to speak in the microphone and hold back her sobs. She also talked about her home situation which was eating her alive and how being one of the few black girls in school didn’t help her either. It was as if her problems in her daily life were deteriorating her emotional stability with nowhere for her to really go. Rodney supported her as she spoke and it was as if she was releasing her burdens to a community that actually cared. You could tell an emotional strain had been lifted off her shoulders. Her composure as she sat down into her criss cross applesauce was more peaceful as the timid notions escaped her body. The strangers surrounding her supported her with gestures and motivational advice handing her the support she lacked.
It was the snaps that really stuck to me. Rodney had informed us in the beginning that if we ever agreed with something that was being said--snapping would be channeling that form of agreement for the next 4 days. *SNaaap, SNaap, SNap* If we ever felt like we wanted to make a shoutout or agreement we would put our two fingers together, sticking our thumb out like a backwards L and flicking it forward in the air notioning “shout out to dat”. While these kids spoke through the microphone there was a rambling of snaps combined with a few “shout out to dat’s” in the background, supporting these courageous kids.
Now those questions that Rodney asked? About six other kids also spoke into the microphones sharing eye-opening experiences. This brought the community even closer within in the first 30 minutes through snaps and shout outs. Sitting in the sea of kids, it was as if an invisible rope symbolizing understandment was intertwined throughout the crowd, connecting each student creating a web. We all had the emotion of understanding how one may feel different at private school. We were more connected than any of the communities in our reality; whether it was because of race, sexual orientation, economic class, religious beliefs or gender. We were unconsciously aware of these identifiers that distinguished us, due to our daily experiences, but this weekend was set aside to formally teach us the basics of the identifiers and how they stem problems in our community.
Those couple days were the longest days of my life. We may have spent two full days doing workshops, meeting knew people, watching presentations, listening to lessons in our family groups, eating our meals, and sharing stories but it felt like an infinite week. We didn’t see daylight in midday for three days, only in the morning. Entering the convention center at 7 am and exiting to our hotels at 10 pm, we socialized with our school groups and explored our temporary home, the towering Marriott . I became closer to my crew of students than I imagined. We all were experiencing the same SDLC, our trip these past couple days would connect us because no one else would have experienced something so genuine and eye opening. SDLC was like a drug that brought people together.
It was my first time I’d ever had a reality switch up, I have always been “the only black girl” without any other fellow black students in class. Ever since kindergarten that’s all I knew, especially growing up in East Milton. Although it was what I always knew it didn’t mean I liked it. I always hung out with other kids who were black, hispanic, or asian but they didn’t understand my reality. A majority of them attended public school or catholic schools and they were the majority. That minority component that I had to deal with on school days? They didn’t understand that. That’s why SDLC had a greater impact on me. It showed me that there actually are another 3,000 students in the nation with the same interests and reality as me. My reality was turned upside down, the tables had been turned and for a change in my life I was the majority with other kids. I was not alone, and I never realized this before. I felt at peace, and empowered. I mean damn, it felt nice to be the majority for a change. Not according to only skin color but adding the component of skin color and experience. I was not the majority with thousands of random minorities but I was the majority with blacks, hispanics and asians who were enrolled in a NAIS school, with the similar experiences and daily struggles as me.
Our Beaver crew was like a mini family; no drama and we had each other’s back. We introduced our friends that we made to the whole crew and vice versa. Socializing with other groups, we were talking nonstop! Warning: SDLC will keep you talking for days. On our trip home we still didn’t stop talking about our experiences,thoughts and funny moments. We would crack jokes and retell the funny moments, repeating the laughter that made our tummies ache in the past.
Our connection had transformed symbolic of our growth. Moe claimed the window seat, Chimobi got the middle and I was in the aisle seat. Lexi had the other aisle seat on the other side, Kaila had the other middle and Jess had the window while Richard sat behind her. On our way there we were all splattered around with teachers in between us, but not this time. We endlessly talked creating the background murmurs and laughs in the congested plane atmosphere. We had been talking nonstop from the closing ceremony and we were running on three hours of sleep in the course of three days. As the plane rumbled down the smooth runway we were softly lifted into the navy blue night sky. We were talking and we knew we were tired when one of us stated in a sleepy voice “Waiiit, what’s a plane??” We peered down the aisle as if the answer was scribbled on the wall by the flight attendants and concluded “I mean it’s like a metal container floating in the air” Shoot. My eyelids dropped, complete darkness.
That was the last comment I remembered. According to how Ms. Marsh explained it she confirmed that we all had all fallen asleep at the same moment. “Ya’ll looked like little kids sleeping, leaning your heads on another’s shoulder for support” It was a row of us, performing the typical sleeping position you would do with your siblings or close family friends if your head needed support in the car, like on a road trip. That body language in our sleep represented the everlasting relationship we had just formed in the last couple of days. We knocked out for the whole trip waking up at the infamous Boston Logan Airport. Back to reality.
From Thursday Dec. 1, 2011 to Sunday Dec. 4, 2011 I learned that I am not alone in my reality, a genuine connection amongst strangers is possible when they have a common value, courage exists depending on the beholder, and everyone has a story. I am more than honored to say I was a participant of the Student Diversity Leadership Conference 2011 in Philadelphia.