I'm a first-generation HBCU graduate. I'm now broke and lonelier than ever without my college friends for support.

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I'm a first-generation HBCU graduate. I'm now broke and lonelier than ever without my college friends for support.
The author graduated from a HBCU.Courtesy of Imani Herring
  • I'm a first-generation HBCU graduate from Spelman College.
  • At school, I met inspiring Black women who became my community.
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In May 2023, I became the first in my family to obtain a degree from a four-year institution. I sometimes forget how big of a deal it is that I graduated from a top-rated HBCU.

College was always a given for me, but I never could've fathomed that I'd not only be accepted to Spelman College in Atlanta but also come across some of the most awe-inspiring people I have ever met while there.

Now that I'm a broke, jobless graduate, I feel lonelier than ever without my Spelman sisterhood by my side.

The people I met during my undergraduate career irrevocably changed my life

As a freshman at Spelman, I was introduced to something I wasn't familiar with: collectiveness through the lens of sisterhood.

The best part about the all-girls school for big-brained Black girls was the feeling of never being alone. If my procrastination led to pulling an all-nighter for an exam worth 20% of my grade at 11 a.m. on a Wednesday, I could find solace in knowing that two of my classmates also did the same thing. When we'd flunk the exam regardless of how hard we group-prayed that we'd all at least pass, we could lick our wounds in the jam-packed cafeteria over a plate of soul food and the thump of the Isley Brothers.

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Little moments like those at Spelman provided a spiritual respite that's hard to replicate anywhere else.

COVID robbed me of my sophomore year. Words fail to describe how mind-numbingly dreadful it was to "do school" behind a 14-inch screen, especially after sampling what it meant to be surrounded by like-minded Black women for months.

When I returned to campus as a junior, I told myself I'd go hard applying for opportunities, joining clubs, attending campus events, and engaging with peers. I can confidently say that it all worked out, but I don't think anything could've prepared me for how hard my friends' absences would hit me once we all graduated.

I'm feeling much lonelier now that I'm a graduate

It's been almost a year since I left Spelman with my degree, honors, and accomplishments. But now, I'm broke and jobless — two things I've been before. But 10 months ago, I lived with other broke, jobless people who helped me shave and dye my head when life got rough.

We're all scattered to the wind, out in the world, making choices that are changing the world.

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I cheer my college friends on from behind my phone screen and wish I were there with them, sharing in their celebrations like before. Most of the time, a comment on their Instagram story is the full extent of what I can do. Our obligations keep us busy and separated, so when I finish applying to my 10th job of the week, I send a text or a DM and hope my peers are having better luck than me.

I'm trying to find happiness in my post-grad life

I don't want my peak to be college, so I've looked to other avenues for community.

Luckily, I've found some online crochet groups that are Black women-centric. I try to imagine what the people in the forums look like behind their screens. I wonder if their faces light up like mine when I finish that final half-double stitch. I wonder if they'd cheer for me as my professors did when I landed that one LA internship they encouraged me to apply for. Suffice it to say, the groups aren't like my college community, but it's something.

Look, college wasn't always great. I'd be lying if I said I didn't ever doubt my place among my poly-lingual, Dean's List peers well into my junior year. But then, my roommate's family would take me out to eat with them, pay for my meal, and then buy me desserts to take back to my dorm. They'd tell me how much they were rooting for me and how proud they were. Those gestures reminded me that I belonged. I miss those gestures.

Spelman gave me my first real taste of a tight-knit community I don't believe I'll find in this economy again. So, for now, I'll stick to crocheting little lemon pouches and granny squares, hoping I can see my college friends again soon.

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