When historically black colleges and universities were first created, they were a safe haven for black students who wanted to get a higher education but could not attend them without putting themselves at risk. Times have changed since the first HBCU opened its doors in 1837, but HBCUs remain great choices for black students and other students of color as well. Aside from providing some of the best programs in the country, HBCUs create a positive environment of support and community–something anyone could use when heading off to college.
I spoke to Howard University freshmen, Anaja Pinnock-Williams and Meghann Davis, and Howard alum Evyan Durham about why they chose to go to an HBCU and why they love their decision.
Well I found her charming and in fact I remember she asked me, stopped me in the street one day and she said ‘Why do you think why all this harassment?’ And I said 'Well, I think because you’re going to be the Prince’s bride.’ And she said 'Why?’ She said 'Just because I don’t have a past?’ And I said 'It could be one of the reasons.’ I said 'You’re actually a very pretty girl.’ And she actually said, and I said to her at the time, 'Well don’t forget us with a knighthood when you get the job and all that’ just as fun and she laughed and I mean, and I remember saying to her 'Now look, when you walk round the corner now don’t put your head down’ because she has this, she had this awful habit of putting her head down and she still does it today. I said 'Look up and smile.’ And she did and it was a lovely picture.
Četiri Sobe Gospođe Safije (Four Rooms of Mrs.Safija) is probably Sarajevo’s most popular and most known restaurant. It used to be a house, Austrian noble, built for his Bosnian wife, who was from a rich Muslim family from Sarajevo. Their story is Bosnian version of Romeo & Juliet, only it is real and there are still portraits around the house/restaurant. The restaurant features Austrian and Bosnian menus.
Safija was the only daughter of the wealthy Sarajevan bey, Ahmed bey Magbulija. She was known in whole Sarajevo of her beauty and elegance. nderstanding the power of her beauty she used to wear blouses of the sheerest silk to show off her bosom, and waistcoats embroidered with gold to show off her hourglass figure. But this was nothing to the bright smile she showed when greeting friends and neighbors. She was learning to play piano at an Austrian Countess. Those were the years when Bosnia just came under Austrian rule. The story says that she was dreaming of a man with golden hair. When she told to her mother, her mother would explain it, saying, that it is probably the sign for improvement since people believed and heard it would get better now once Austrians came in the country.
Safija loved the new “influence” that arrived in Sarajevo. Austrian-style buildings, carriages, new fashion and customs. Then one day she saw, what she believed to be the man she saw in her dreams. She ran off to her piano class. She first played Mozart’s sonnata and then continued playing a sad Bosnian love song. Her teacher believed she was sad since she learnt to play “real music”. She described the man she saw, and his two sisters. She told her those were Baron Von Herberstein and his sisters and that they should come to visit Countess (Safija’s teacher) any time. There she met the Baron, who also spoke Bosnian and she continued meeting with him and his sisters for a while. His sisters showed her dresses in Austrian style, gave her new hats and shoes, she loved them. “In the next room someone stood by the window listening. He had been there the day before and the day before that… He knew everything. He saw everything. Each day, he stood there quietly and listened to Safija talk or sing one of those lovely old love songs that she sang for his sisters. He watched and listened … every moment … every second. He knew that there was no one else, and there would never be anyone else only Safija. He was in love with her.
But he also knew that she was the only daughter of very religious Muslim Bey.” Baron was in love and he had decided to marry Safija, although he was worried about the reaction of her father. He asked his sisters to bring her a letter and tell her to meet with Baron near Gazi Husrev Bey’s spring. “He knelt and gazed up into her eyes. “I have been looking at you for a month; I have followed your shadow; you have burned my heart more deeply than the sun. I have called to you in my dreams; I have called you my own. You are not destined to live or die here. We will run away … far away from everything. I will give my life if need be to fulfill your desires. I will build you a paradise … a house with four rooms and each one of I will sprinkle with silver and gold. Everyone will know that you are my queen … a bird of paradise.”
They married and lived on relation Bosnia-Austria, but they were also known for traveling the world together, they traveled all the way to Americas. Safija was 16 when she marrid him. When she came to Vienna at age of 17, as a wife of a nobleman, many thought Vienna would never be the same. Bosnia was a new occupied, dark and unknown province, and he brought home a Muslim wife from there. However, Safija soon started talking about her city, singing and playing Sevdalinke for the noblemen, she later on, took them to Sarajevo for a visit. Once while she was traveling without her husband, she came to Sarajevo after full years, in her letter she mentions: "I have returned to Sarajevo, which I imagined as a spot in past I’ll never have to get out of. My present is in Sarajevo now. I write from Sarajevo, from street Čekaluša, from house with 4 rooms, which I fill with my memories. It is spring and there are two cats on a tree. Between them is space and a spot which means -present”. Safija opened the first European classical dances school in Sarajevo, and classes took place in hotel Europe. During the 20’s and 30’s, Safija was knowning for bringing different kind of spicies, chocolates and pastries from the countries she visited to Sarajevo. Safija and Johan traveled the world together, and although her mother was well known for her cooking, Safija was probably the first who gave Bosnian dishes an “unique” twist. She cooked when she’d spend her time in her Sarajevan house. She wrote down the recipes and the restaurant even today uses those, probably most famous is the soup, the one Safija used to prepare for Johan. One of the chronicles from the Austrian court (he was of Hungarian roots), in 19th century wrote: “Safija isn’t only a favorite of the Vienna, but of all people in the whole Empire. It would be wrong to believe that it was because of her beauty, even though, this Bosnian woman is one of those you see once and remember forever. I believe it is because of elegance and easiness with which she just takes the hearts of everyone.”
It’s no secret that attending an all women’s college does wonders for a girl. Research shows that girls who attend all women’s colleges participate more in and out of class, have more courage to step into the STEM fields, are shown to have higher self esteem, and are more likely to graduate. And it’s no wonder considering attending an all women’s college puts you in an environment of female support and gives you women in your field to serve as mentors. But knowing these facts and living them are two different things. Is what they say about women’s colleges really true? Second year Barnard College student and an incoming freshman told me what it means to attend one of the best all women’s colleges in the country.
Chelsea stepped from beneath the awning, adjusting the wide brimmed hat to shade her eyes. She didn’t know how to quiet the guilt ridden butterflies in her stomach. This wasn’t how she expected seeing Jackson again. She imagined them being in the basking afterglow of a beautiful night together. It was what she was used too and it didn’t mean to be the case anymore. Ordering a chai tea, she sat down letting the sun kiss her aching sun. There was nothing like a Charleston day in August.
I SWEAR TO GODH WE ARE DOING A TALK ON SCHOLARSHIPS FOR WYOMING AND THIS WHITE BOY STOOD UP AND WAS LIKE, “I got one question for you…WHAT ARE THOOOOOSE?” AND THIS BLACK GIRL NEXT TO ME JUST WENT, “Sit yo ass down John.”
The one time I was on this site called omegle (which is this website where you chat with anon strangers), I chatted with a 12-year-old boy who loved Pokemon. He revealed to me that he felt left out at school and that he wanted a girlfriend but no one ever wanted to talk with him. Then he said he wished I could be his girlfriend because I was nice.
So, I decided I would cheer him up because I’ve been forever single myself and I know what it feels like. And I kid you not, this is how the conversation went:
“Remember in every Pokemon game how after you beat the elite four, legendaries are bound to show up?” I asked.
“Yeah?” He replied.
“Well, legendaries only come around once, so trainers have to be careful to catch it the first time.”
“Yeah but I can’t find my legendary.”
“Think of it this way: what if you and I are both legendaries, and we’re just waiting to be found by the right trainer. You’re a once-in-a-lifetime specialty, kid. It’s better to wait than to rush into the hands of a villain. It might take awhile, but you’ll encounter your trainer eventually.”
The kid was so happy after that I felt my heart melting. Because I think more people out there need to be told things I never was. Like how valuable you are and that you don’t need to have a special somebody right this minute. And you’re a gosh darn legendary and you’re worth the battling and the roaming adventures. You’re awesome, single kids!
I feel the refresh, I feel it coming–I remember years ago when my eyes were up, when I felt the wind and the trees and the sky and the smells and the breeze; when I was a part of everything and the shapes of mountains fading in the twilight and the dome above connected me to the other sides of the world. In these years my eyes moved downward, and I moved looking at only the bit of ground just before me. Before I knew it, I no longer knew how to look around, I was no longer a part. I must rebuild, I must make this the first day: piece by piece, moving backward-but-forward. I was there once before; I can be there once again.
Maybe we were heroes in one life, written into this reality by an aspiring writer, wishing to imagine their favorite characters in an alternate reality in which they are like them.
Stories themselves never end, either. The end of the main character, around whom the plot revolves, is not the end of the story. The story lives on through every character they have touched, or even glanced at.
If you enjoy writing, remember that whatever you create is a universe in its own, with living, breathing people. This universe exists through you; treat it well. If you hit a road block, or if you leave it for years without completion, never said “I never got around to finishing it,” because that is not true.
The story is just in the process of unraveling, still.
If you go throughout the rest of your days, and the manuscript lies untouched, and crumbles to dust through time, let it be known that the universe you created still exists, though, not necessarily through the present, but the past. Time is a strange thing that we, in our dimension, perceive as linear. However, all that once existed, exists without a doubt.
So write to your heart’s content.
Enjoy every moment and do your best.
Even if you don’t see yourself as good at the task.
“While life’s greatest disappointments and worst test grades and most conniving low-lifes lie waiting as one opens his/herself to the world, the best days lie ahead. The good, the ugly, and the pain all become worth it as your world becomes a part of you; and embracing it without barriers, loving it, you love yourself entirely.”