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As a black woman at Butler University, a predominately white institution (PWI), I have had five frequently reoccurring thoughts.  Five thoughts that many of my friends have also talked about having, and five thoughts that I don’t think would be too off to presume others share too.
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1) “ I could have sworn I saw more black people when I toured.”
This is a common mistake. Oftentimes, there is an unproportional amount of racial minorities as tour guides, which although, is amazing, it is also misleading to the people in the tour. Furthermore, there are a lot of young black Aramark employees in Atherton and CClub. Unfortunately, most of them are not students here, and therefore, cannot help prevent you from being the only minority in your FYS class.
2) “Why is the teacher looking at me? Oh no. I’ve got to be the token black voice again.”
The first time this happened to me was in a women’s studies class. The teacher was talking about people’s thoughts on their appearance, specifically their hair. After a few of my classmates spoke up the teacher blatantly stared at me until I reluctantly raised my hand to inform him I loved my hair. Thankfully I have never had to take a class on racial inequalities because that would 100% be a bad time.
3) “Don’t forget to code switch today.”
There are several common phrases and non-verbal communication used in Black American culture that sometimes don’t make it mainstream. This makes it almost impossible to speak the same way with white classmates as one can with their black peers. It’s not something that we blame others for, per se, but it is annoying and inconvenient.
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4) “Don’t you say it.”
Don’t say the n -word. Please, stop it. We see/hear you at the party, and the only reason there wasn’t a confrontation is because we are vastly outnumbered – per usual. I know *some black artist* is playing and the beat is just too crispy (reference # 3) so you feel the need to say all the lyrics, but I urge you to refrain. Thank you for your cooperation.
5) “Lmao I chose this.”
In the end, we chose this school. We can act like the tour fooled us, or the diversity statistics were skewed, but we knew what we were getting into. I knew I was going to be called the n-word at Butler. I knew I was going to see some confederate flags. However, I still chose to be a bulldog. And surprisingly, I don’t regret that decision. I love Butler, even though, sometimes, Butler doesn’t love me.