It’s been 17 years and I still haven’t seen snow. I mean not counting TV or in a movie, I haven’t made a snow man, hurled snowballs or even just let specks of frozen rain dissolve on my tongue. And what makes that fact even more pressing is that I’m in the minority.
During the winter months, temperatures drop around the country, but seems only here in South Florida, that we are blessed enough to experience the full extent of the sun year-round. Not that it’s a bad thing, but it really does restrict my view and understanding of nature. In this aspect, I am in the minority. I say minority not in shame or anger, I say it with joy because ignorance is really another word for the possibility of change.
Being in the minority ethnically is very similar. Although I can’t just change my ethnicity or deracinate all racial prejudices, it’s my decision how I will react to being African-American. Though I only see a wet and dry season here in Broward County, my lack of frigid tales isn’t binding, it’s simply a matter of experience and choice. And the same applies to being in the ethnic minority. I can stay put, refuse to face the day and be trapped in the confines of dominant ideologies. Or I can rise, abandon the darkness, and see the sun rise in all four of the varying seasons. The choice to view the world differently is something I think the University of Chicago strives to do.
And for this, I am interested in the University of Chicago, because it goes above and beyond to truly attempt to accept a person; not a number, not a test score, not an ethnicity. The essays, in their intricacy and possibility, challenge me now to choose to go see what this University is all about and why it is so different. Plus, in Chicago, I might just see snow.
