2008 was probably the dopest year of my existence. I graduated high school, began my freshman year at THEE greatest HBCU on the planet, and voted for the very first time in the most historic election ever. On November 4, 2008, I gathered with my peers in the Howard University student center to witness history unfold in one priceless moment: Barack Hussein Obama was announced as the first Black president-elect of the United States of America.
I cried. I screamed. I hugged anyone within arm’s reach. I proudly chanted along to the nostalgic anthem, “My President,” which blasted repeatedly as hundreds of us marched the late-night DC streets to the White House. I was so proud. Proud not only to be Black, but proud to be a Black American. Proud to be a part of an era that my ancestors relentlessly fought and died for. Proud to have played a role in what seemed like a massive step forward for this country. Then in 2012, it happened all over again. Life was too lit to be true — until now. [Read more…]