Like most caffeine-dependent students at this institution, I make my rounds to Espresso Royale on South University Avenue before my morning lecture. Once I reach for the door handle, I glance to my right and notice a sea of orange, ripped up pavement and vacant storefronts.
“Are you up?” I ask my old neighbors in Minnesota.
“Yes! How is Michigan’s campus faring?”
“There is certainly a lot of protesting that has occurred,” I remark. “What are you feeling right now?”
You’re huddled around a table grabbing lunch with friends you haven’t seen in a week, and it seems as if there’s an impossible amount of conversation to catch up on. It’s been a tough week; you want your friends’ support.
A little too far from Chicago to be considered a suburb and a little too left-leaning for the stereotype of the typical Indiana small town, Chesterton is kind of an anomaly.
We hear it in our classrooms, friend groups and on social media: Stay woke. It’s a call to progressive action and beliefs.
For many students, a dorm room functions as home away from home, a personal space that is sacred, a place where they should always feel comfortable and safe to come back to. But this week, this space was violated.
My story is nothing new — I’m a Black girl with darker skin, so finding foundation and other makeup in shades that don’t make me look like a ghost is a challenge.