I have come this far...: Reflections from defense day

It has been a little more than a week since I defended my dissertation! I don’t know if I said that loud enough, I DEFENDED MY DISSERTATION! For anyone who has ever attempted a PhD, especially a woman of color, this is an amazing feat.  Every step toward the goal of defending is its own little victory on the battlefield of a much larger war.

The biggest battle for me, educated academically and through lived experiences on racism and sexism, was convincing myself that I would finish despite of everyone and everything that tried to stand in my way. During my doctoral program I was told—verbally and nonverbally—a myriad of discouraging things that led me to believe I would not finish that degree. Equally, there have been some academic angels guiding me along to the finish line.

After so many years of crying for and praying on this degree, I have a lot to share. However, today I am writing about timing—the Lord’s timing.

I’ve known for awhile it was my time because of the messages I had been receiving. Messages saying “Look how far you’ve come?!” First, in April the Black girls in Indiana University's School of Education, better known as #TheGreat8 (1), went viral.  Since that moment I have been receiving messages that now is my divine time of departure. Leading up to my defense there were full circle moments that I must  share.

First, just before leaving for New Orleans, which was my first stop on the road to Indianapolis to defend, I found a picture of my mother and I at my kindergarten graduation. I have two memories from that day, the amber sun shinning on me from the windows in Dillard University’s chapel and my mother’s joy. Finding my first graduation photo, while at the same time packing to complete one of the final requirements for my doctoral degree, was a bittersweet moment. It was sweet in that by abiding by the rule—be good and get good grades—I had always brought my mother joy, but  bitter because my existence as a student had shaped my identity in an inalienable way  and upon exiting there was the realization that I may have to reshape my identity...in new ways, brave ways, unknown ways. It was unnerving. However looking at that picture, a woman with wild dreams of her daughter  escaping the confines of the impoverished neighborhoods of New Orleans, I thought about how far I had come.

Secondly when my father drove me to the airport that morning,it felt just like our many mornings to and from school. On our way to St. Leo Elementary, to Ursuline Academy High School, to my freshmen year at Xavier University, my father had always driven me to school. In the car to the airport I thought, look how far I’ve come.

Then, on my layover I passed the exit of the George Bush Intercontinental Airport’s terminal B in Houston. This was the terminal were some of my Sorority Sisters met me after Hurricane Katrina. Extra clothes in hand, they met me there to hug and love on me. Many of us had lost everything and were grieving for a city we all loved. That day on a layover from New Orleans to Indianapolis they gave me an everlasting dose of love. However, this time I was not running from terminal B to terminal C with a large clear plastic “bed-in-a-bag” package of clothes. I almost missed that first flight to Indianapolis in 2005. (Post-Katrina I moved in with the love of my life, who is now my husband, during his first year of medical school.) As I passed by terminal B’s stark white walls I thought, look how far I’ve come. 

 The last full circle moment I’ll share is that on the day I defended, I had some inspiring Black women by my side. Two of them were women who inspired me at Xavier and continue to inspire me to this day. Both of these women, are among the women who inspired my dissertation. They are the references I referred to when I read texts in my coursework about Black women and higher education. The other two women were Dr. Robin Hughes and Dr. Lori Patton Davis. God makes no mistakes. It was not a mistake that on August 17, 2005 I emailed Dr. Patton Davis , then cited on IU Higher Education and Student Affairs program website as the Master's Program Coordinator, to inquire about the program. Since we know God works in mysterious ways, 6 days later my life was changed forever by Hurricane Katrina, and I was sent on a 10+ year odyssey from New Orleans to Indiana, arriving full circle at the defense day with Dr. Patton Davis as my dissertation chair. It is also no mistake that while Dr. Patton Davis left IU before I enrolled there, Dr. Hughes was there to usher me into my most “woke” moments at IU. These moments have and will always be the most refreshing whiffs of oxygen my spirit needed while navigating coursework and candidacy. To have them, the rest of my enthusiastic committee (Dr. James Scheurich and Dr. Lucy LePeau), and my IU colleagues in the room while I defended not only affirms me, but also my work—a scholarly effort to explore the impact of institutional organization and culture on Black women in Higher Education.

I recognize the significance of these moments, throughout my journey to and during my dissertation defense. The networks represented in these moments helped me get to this point because they inspired me to persevere during times when I believed I would not finish. There were days while pursuing my Ph.D. when I said to myself, “I will not let this kill me,” or “I will not let this academy eat me alive.”  But if it had not been for the little girl within me trying to bring joy to her family,  leaning on them for support, or drawing from the Black women around me for encouragement, I would not have been victorious over this goal. So, I am delighted and full of gratitude that I am here; that I overcame the naysayers; shut out the noise; and reached within myself for tools I needed to make it to the finish line. Some would call it #BlackGirlMagic, but, as my major professor has asserted before (2), this isn’t about magic, but more about #BlackGirlHardWork, #BlackGirlPersistence, and #BlackGirlDrive!

For my sisters still on the road to that final power point presentation, remember your humanity and resist the trope of being a strong Black woman. In that space we let the academy and it’s players get away with violence toward us while stripping us of the capacity to experience vulnerability, publicly and privately. Those moments include full circle moments of joy, pain, and redemption. With that being said, I am living in this moment with tears in my eyes because I am so overjoyed at how far I have come.

1. See this link and this link for more on the dynamic stories of my sister scholars and I. 

2. See this video at mark 1:09:18 for more on the critique of #BlackGirlMagic by Dr. Lori Patton Davis and an expanded critique of the metaphoric framework by Patton and Croom (2016) in chapter 1 of their book Critical Perspectives on Black Women and College Success.

Story behind the photo: As stated above this is a photo of my mother and I on the day I graduated from kindergarten in the chapel of Dillard University. This photo marks my first "graduation" experience, but also my first time on a historically black university campus. 

Introducing Window Seat

At every juncture, the closing of every chapter in my adult life I’ve said to myself, “Why didn’t you take the time to document that?” Or I would say “I should have started a blog when all this began!”

I said this to myself after returning home to New Orleans 5 months after Hurricane Katrina, immediately after finishing my Master’s degree and just before enrolling in my doctoral program, and once again after proposing my dissertation topic. The last time I regretfully pondered why I had missed my moment and I made a promise to myself that I would not let another chapter in my life go by without starting some type of documentation process.

I missed out on documenting and sharing some poignant and thought provoking moments in my life. I won’t take up this space to name the many moments when I was “expected to be a superwoman without acting like one” (Player, 1985).  However, as I am in the final stages of fulfilling the requirements for my PhD with aspirations of joining the professoriate, I figured there is no better time to start than now!

Window Seat is my invitation for you to view the world from my perspective, more often than not, supported by emerging and groundbreaking scholarship on race and gender. This perspective is informed by a life as a mother, partner, and daughter of a non-traditional age college student. It is also informed by my childhood in the South--filled with snowballs, Black Catholics, second lines, colorism, Mardi Gras parades, urban decay, but also lots of love. Not to mention, my adulthood spent primarily in the Midwest. (I am still coming to grips and coping with what I saw and experienced there. So bare with me.) I have a lot to say, about a lot of things—specifically when it comes to womanhood, Blackness, and education.

Put simply, I am tired of feeling regretful. Or “wishing” I could share my view on topics and events. And I despise a long Facebook post, that wasn’t an option. So here I am and here you are! Welcome to a front row seat.

Story behind the photo: In the summer of 2005 I worked as a instructor and chaperon for a 4 week pre-matriculation program entitled Super Scholar-Excel at Xavier University of Louisiana. This was also the summer I decided to pursue a career in student affairs. As a art major with a concentration in photography, I kept my SLR camera by my side documenting the experience. Unbeknownst to me a fellow instructor took this photo of me while we supervised study hall at Xavier South. 

When I hastily packed my bags evacuating for Katrina, under the impression I would soon be back, I took the camera, but forgot all of my previously developed negatives. Inside the camera was the film from that summer. Sometime in 2008 I took the film to a photo development shop and to my surprise this shot was in the set.  Photographers rarely have photos of themselves. I have none from my camera from college, except this one.