04/11/2025
I didn’t tour the campus.
I didn’t know anyone in Atlanta.
All I had was a tug on my spirit,
and a quiet whisper that said—
you belong at Spelman.
I was sitting in a dorm at a school where I “should’ve” been happy—
Dean’s List. $8K a year.
But I felt invisible. Unchallenged. Unfulfilled.
I wasn’t made to coast through college—I was made to become.
So I moved in silence.
No announcement. No backup plan.
Just faith, fasting, and a deadline that didn’t wait.
Spelman was the only HBCU still accepting applications in February 2016.
I submitted everything in a week…
and still forgot my ACT scores until after the deadline.
But Ash Wednesday came, and I surrendered.
For 40 days, I fasted.
No guarantees. No confirmation. Just belief.
That if I kept walking, God would handle the door.
And He did.
The day I moved out of my dorm at UCF,
I checked my email—expecting final grades.
Instead, I saw an invitation to pay my Spelman housing deposit.
I had never even told my family I applied.
But I told my mama, “God didn’t bring me this far to leave me now.”
And by August, we were on the road with a U-Haul bound for Atlanta.
Spelman, you became more than a school.
You were a mirror. A sanctuary.
A place where I was seen, sharpened, and surrounded by
brilliant, bold, world-changing Black women.
Where professors poured into me like I was their own.
Where I found my voice, my power, my purpose.
Where I learned that discomfort is divine preparation.
And that when the world feels too heavy—sisterhood holds you up.
Thank you for showing me who I am.
Thank you for making me fall in love with becoming her.
Spelman, forever bind my heart to thine.
