‘I am a young black woman and child of immigrants in America. Opportunities for young women like me are difficult to come by. I felt pressure from myself throughout my college experience and after graduation to succeed not only for my family and myself but for other young black female women entering the world just like me.’
Welcome to DiaspOre. I am honored to be a new columnist for the Naija Times.
I AM 23 years old and a recent university graduate with a bachelors of arts in political science and a bachelors of science in journalism with a french minor from Southern Illinois University Carbondale (SIUC). Prior to my graduation I was the first black female Editor-in-Chief of The Daily Egyptian newspaper. I became a reporter almost three years ago because I saw journalism as a vital tool to my activism. I spent my adolescence deeply entrenched in activism; from planning and attending protests to civically engaging myself in politics.
In university I fought to find balance between ethical, honest journalism and advocacy. Through this somewhat arduous battle I soon found that journalism is inherently activism. Journalists are the mouthpiece of generations. We inform and empower the public with the factual information they need to expand their world view, form informed opinions and challenge their own preconceived notions. We bring awareness to situations that call for reform and change. We seek out the truth, we uplift voices of the unheard and we search for justice. In this column I hope to continue to use journalism as a vehicle of my activism.
DiaspOre is my identity not only as a writer but defines the intersections at which I exist in the world. My intersectional identity as a black femme first generation Nigerian-American forces me to look through several lenses as I navigate through life. will specifically amplify the voices of queer femme black people of the Diaspora. As readers I hope this column opens you up to new points of views, provokes conversation on a community level and encourages introspection. Find the power of your voice.
We don’t talk about the quarter life crisis enough.
The anticipation of receiving your degree, symbolic of all your hard work, and the gathering of your family and friends, makes graduation an overwhelming yet exciting period in life. It’s a celebration of your academic achievements, a celebration of the friendships and communities you have formed, and indicative of your transition from adolescence to adulthood. This is the first true transition from adolescence to adulthood. “The first day of the rest of your life” they say. Unfortunately for me and many other graduates alike the feeling of excitement is quickly followed by anxiety and uncertainty about what is to come in the next chapter of your life. The loss of routine, community, and security that comes with college is heartbreaking.
The first few weeks following my graduation were filled with goodbyes. When the dust had finally cleared I had to grapple with my identity. How do you say goodbye to who you were in college and prepare to enter the next phase of your personhood? A large part of my identity throughout my adolescence was found in my academics. I found validation in my grades, extracurricular activities and the structure that schooling gave me. Without that structure I didn’t know who I was. I was mourning. It felt like I was attending a funeral of my identity, purpose and sense of belonging. When I introduced myself I was Oreoluwa Ojewuyi, Editor-in-Chief, pursuing bachelor’s degree in political science and journalism with a minor in french.
Now I am Oreoluwa Ojewuyi with two bachelor’s degrees and no idea about my next step. If you look at my life you would assume I had it all together. I was accepted into a graduate school masters program that seemed like the perfect fit for me. I was accepted into a German exchange fellowship program that would allow me to travel and meet other people in my field. I was offered a full time position as a grant writer for a non profit in Chicago. Yet none of it felt right. I thought my trip would help me feel confident in my next steps. Growing up I had found solace in always having a plan. My upbringing in an extremely academic household developed me into a person who is extremely goal oriented and passionate about my education and career aspirations. I am aware of the sacrifices my parents have made so that I could benefit from all the opportunities the world has to offer. Through no fault of their own I have applied pressure on myself to achieve these goals through a very specific time frame and medium. I am a young black woman and child of immigrants in America.
Opportunities for young women like me are difficult to come by. I felt pressure from myself throughout my college experience and after graduation to succeed not only for my family and myself but for other young black female women entering the world just like me. The opportunities I took were carefully calculated to achieve my professional and academic goals. I didn’t realize that along the way I lost my spontaneity and ability to trust in the unknown. I lost trust in myself. I questioned if the life decisions I was making moving forward would propel me to the life I had carefully curated for myself. These experiences awakened something in me that I thought I had lost a long time ago.
One might think “Why is she complaining about having too many options?”. When you’ve lost trust in your decision making, deciding between career and academic options that might affect the trajectory of your real life can present a challenge. Unexpectedly I lost my grandfather a few weeks before going to Germany and quickly learned that you can never perfectly plan out your life. When I came back from my trip to Nigeria I decided to trust my gut.
I was still not completely sure what I wanted to study in graduate school so I made the difficult decision to defer and take the full time job opportunity as a grant writer and begin writing a column for the Naija Times. Through this decision I have the opportunity of amplifying my personal voice as a columnist and exploring a medium of writing I am unfamiliar with. I realized that going to graduate school just for structure and stability wasn’t right for me. I needed to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. I always felt that creation had to serve a specific purpose which is partly why I chose to pursue journalism.
To me my job as a grant writer allowed me the ability to grow in a new way. It’s allowed me to have the space to create outside of work. To educate myself outside of the classroom. School is always there. A new job opportunity is always there. I don’t want to regret grabbing an opportunity. My advice to anyone who might be confused moving into the next phase in life is – don’t want to settle into a routine simply because it’s comfortable. This decision has awakened a side of me that has laid dormant for so long. It allowed me to take time to discover myself again. It’s scary. Though I’ve always envisioned the path towards success as a straight line- I’m taking a detour. I’m taking time to understand myself and understand that detours from your plan can be more beneficial to my growth in the long run than staying on course.
