Dear Future Spelmanite,

Do not run for the hills. This atmosphere takes adjustment. I moved from the sunshine and comfort of California to the humidity and culture shock of Atlanta. The first month or so, I wanted to go home. Everyone calling me their "sister" seemed so disingenuous. Believe me, you will gain SISTERS here as long as you remain genuine. It may seem like a new world. Nevertheless, the most growth occurs when you are out of your comfort zone. Do not stay crammed in your room (unless you are studying). Go out. Meet people. Try new things. See the city.

Get Internships.

Apply for Scholarships.

Call your parents to confirm that you’re alive.

Call grandparents …they send money.

Pray.

Study Abroad.

Never accept “No”. The school has the money- find it. If they do not want to, make them. You deserve Spelman and make them know it.

Do not chase "hype". A lot of times, people come into the AUC looking for the popularity that they did not acquire in high school. This is college. If you thought high school was ruthless, you were only in the minor leagues. People have sharper tongues in college. People have more creative ways to hate on you in college. Hype is short-lived and disloyal. Instead, find friends who could care LESS about campus drama and "fame"(if you will). Find sisters who are too busy trying to save the world. Societal superheroes are cooler than “college prom queens”.

Go to a Beer Bash.

Go to a pageant.

Go to a park.
Go to Merkerson's. 

Go to Founder’s Day.

PRAY.

Go to a Chapel Service.
Go to Sporting Events.

You are the perfect coal. (lol) I know it does not sound that glamorous to be considered a coal, but don’t underestimate the power of coal. We all aspire to be diamonds, but that occurs after immense time and pressure. Before you reach such a high stature, you need to use your circumstances to light a fire in your community. Ignite passion amongst your fellow sisters. Whether it be through activism, politics, spirituality, dance, science, or mentorship – nothing is wrong with doing the niddy-griddy work of a coal. Before you know it, you will be a Diamond Girl (50+ year alumnae of Spelman College).

Mentor someone. Yes, you are of age.

Protect your name; people would love to throw it in the mud .

Engage yourself in dialogue.

You are beautiful.

Cause awkward, controversial silences in class.

Pray.

In college, your greatest asset will not be your AP classes, your interpersonal skills, your popular boyfriend, your big chest, your greek affiliation or even your parent’s influence. In college, your triple threat will be God, God, and God. Morehouse men and Spelman women tend to get their minds steadfast on being “renaissance men and women”. While that is admirable, some students treat “religion” as one thing on their resume to appear “well-rounded”. Your relationship with God is more than that. It will keep you grounded to your beginning and it will be the catalyst toward your future. Create and nourish a GENUINE bond and dependency on God. 

Class of ... 2016? (i felt so old saying that), Welcome to Spelman. Congratulations. 

All of My Love,

Stevi Renee

contentment .

breaking my fist into concrete on los robles boulevard . watching it bleed with little dirt specks in between my knuckles and veins . throbbing and shooting pain all the way up to my neck .
if there was ever an occurence to describe that relationship, that would be it .

as i sit at this poorly named kickback , my fists sense concrete . there he is ;
i want to strangle him by the tears that he used to cause back in the day . when i was lost in a maze of my own inhabitions and insecurities . phone calls and texts and aims and myspace and eyes and ears and nose and mouth ... oh that mouth . the mouths that spread my humilation like wildfire in the streets . the mouth she used on you to cause earthquakes in a love expected to withstand the test of time . i bounced off of the diving board, did three flips and soared headfirst into the deep end . i smashed my face into the off-white concrete . left with a broken nose, ruptured eye, blood in my mouth and a fractured heart . when i hopped out of the pool.. it was a " you just dont pick up and leave and leave me sick like that ." cliche like always .

war wounds are only grounds for reflexion and growth .
as i sit at the kickback, my heart feels compassion for a boy who will never know me like he did. as he blows up my phone after, trying to reconcile. trying to push me off the diving board again . he does it in vain . we both know ... that i know ... what i deserve . we both know ... that i know ... what im worth . we both know ill be sending him a postcard from the land of happiness .