Courtesy of Miles Kirkpatrick
- After I got into Yale, I couldn’t shake the thought that it was because of affirmative action.
- Eventually, I accepted that I would never know for sure and that I should move forward.
- I now do everything I can, including overworking myself, to prove I belong.
This has been a bit of a secret, but when I applied to Yale, I chose to apply as an African American-studies major on a whim. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to major in, but I was really into W.E.B. Du Bois then, so I wrote an application essay about him. A few months later, I was accepted.
I have no clue whether that decision affected my chances of getting in. Yale does not admit by major, and I doubt I had a better chance than if I chose political science or my dream major, humanities. Regardless, part of me thinks I got in because I’m Black and chose the smaller major of African American studies.
I’m now working extra hard to prove I belong at Yale.
When I was accepted into Yale, self-doubt slipped in
Because I wanted to go to school on the East Coast, had ambitious life goals, and found Harvard drab, Yale and Princeton were my top choices. I applied to nine schools, and only Princeton rejected me.
My story of finding out I got into Yale is pretty basic. I had a headache when the Yale decision dropped, so when I saw I got in, I texted my parents, made brief phone calls to see how my friends did, and went about my business.
The fact that I didn’t get into Princeton made me think my Yale acceptance wasn’t guaranteed. They have comparably low acceptance rates. Every little factor must have mattered, including my race. It’s impossible not to think it may have tipped the scale.
Naturally, this fueled the thought that I shouldn’t have gotten into Yale. I could have edged out a more qualified candidate who was not a person of color because I’m Black. Maybe my race was the deciding factor. With the Supreme Court striking down affirmative action right after I got into college, I felt like maybe I didn’t deserve it — like I got in through a back door that closed right behind me.
My doubt wasn’t unfounded. I ill-advisedly told my interviewer I didn’t care too much if I got into Yale. I remember many conversations that have made me think I didn’t deserve to get in. Maybe the only reason I got accepted was that my race made up for my deficiencies.
I decided not to reject the idea that my race was what tipped the scale for me. I just accepted the possibility. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten into Yale without my race being considered. But I’m still a brilliant student; another school would’ve reaped the benefits of having me as a student.
But I now do everything I can to prove I belong
While I’m OK with the possibility that my race was a factor, I can’t stomach the idea that anyone else may think that. As a result, I’ve become insatiable. I need to be productive constantly. I’m always trying to convince myself and others I deserve to be where I am by taking advantage of every opportunity.
I joined Yale’s rigorous Directed Studies program, got into every club I applied for, won the Yale Political Union first-year prize debate, and joined the Generational African American Student Association executive board. I do all this as unapologetically authentic as possible. As long as there’s work for me to do here, I will do it. God forbid anyone accuse me of being lazy, undeserving, or lacking merit.
The future of Black Yale
Before I enrolled, I read “The Future of the Race” by Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Cornel West. In it, Gates details his experience at Yale as a member of what he grudgingly described as the “crossover generation,” the first generation to attend integrated schools.
I often think back to that book because it amazes me how far we’ve come. We literally have what the crossover generation built. The Afro-American Cultural Center at Yale is a home away from home. The class of 2027 is 14% African American. There’s a laundry list of affinity groups for Black students of every stripe here.
Sure, the policy that helped many of us get here has been deemed unconstitutional. But we’re already here. More Black students will join us with every class. We will continue to work, build community, and make the world a better place regardless. That’s what I came here to do.