Every year around homecoming I’m sadly reminded that I didn’t attend a HBCU (Historically Black College & University). My elementary school sang the Star-Spangled Banner AND Lift Every Voice and Sing every morning. In highschool I learned about Emmett Till and was committed to learning the thorough details about his life, and Black history in general. My father often said my name, Tanikia,  meant “Black Princess”. It doesn’t actually mean that, but he was adamant about teaching me to be proud of my identity. The foundation was beautifully set, but when it was officially time to register at Clark Atlanta University (after being accepted), I couldn’t afford it. Years later, a local PWI (Predominantly White Institution) dropped their tuition and it financially made sense for me to apply and enroll. Although I grieve not being able to attend a HBCU, attending a PWI gave me insight into the global world at large. I learned many things about a variety of cultures, with one in particular being that a large sum of White folks spend the summer after graduation backpacking through Europe. And now, as a 40-year-old woman, I’m learning how many Black women are suffering from not being awarded the same privilege. 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a job. I was 14-years-old when I got my work permit, in order for me to work at Macino’s Pizza and Grinders. After working at Mancino’s, I worked at KB Toys, Walgreens, Victoria’s Secret, and Apple Bee’s. I was still in highschool. I didn’t have any extracurricular activities after school and now that I think about it, joining the theatre club or speech team would have been ideal for me. But instead, I went to work. This trend carried over into my college career. I worked a few work study jobs in between attending classes. After graduation, I went down to Jackson, Mississippi, to intern at the John and Vera Mae Perkins Center for one year. After my internship was complete, I came back home to Chicago and accepted a job with By the Hand Club for Kids, kicking off my “grown up” work career. 

Young adults choose to backpack through Europe for a variety of reasons that I completely understand. I want to be clear - I take no issue with them backpacking through Europe. My heart simply breaks for the Black women who weren’t afforded an opportunity to simply frolic. Oh, the wondrous things that could’ve occurred to me if I had a year to “eat, pray, love”. I'd have clarity to choose a career path in my early 20’s, instead of trying to figure it out in my 30’s and finally having the courage to land on a choice at 40. The delicacies I would have tried, the enlightening conversations with strangers I could have had, and the remarkable sites I could've seen. 

This is for Black girls who couldn’t afford to backpack through Europe and find themselves needing a second, a minute, a moment to just breathe. 

For Black girls who had to choose priorities over pleasantries. 

For Black girls who are now moms and find themselves chasing babies while chasing dreams. 

For Black girls who weren't given grace to figure it out in their 20’s or 30’s. 

For Black girls who are creating to survive, without the choice of creating, to simply create.

I write for us. 

I pray we find pure delight and unexpected adventure in our daily rhythms.  

I pray we find sacred time to think and pursue the dreams that make our heart thunder and spirit dance.

May God restore to us what time has taken.

Your Favorite Cousin,

Nikki