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I recently attended an alumni event to discuss the state of higher education in the United States. Warm spring air graced the bright tulips as I walked into the clubhouse at the pristine country club. The grounds were immaculate. Silence filled the golf course surrounding the buildings, as no golfers were present. It was curiously calm, a bright Sunday afternoon. Membership costs here are exorbitant.
I used to come to this country club as a child. My grandparents were members, and I used to ride bikes here with my dear friend to swim in the pool. We would pretend she was my sister, using my now painfully evident white privilege to allow us to swim all day long. At the age of 8, I knew no different; I thought these opulent swimming pools and tasty chicken tenders were afforded to everyone. My last time here had been for my grandmother’s funeral, soon before I completed my bachelor’s degree.
People of all ages arrived at the alumni event, and as we put on our sticky name tags, my hands started shaking. The memories here of politeness and façade were strong.
Small talk commenced mainly among alumni of different Ivy League colleges. I began chatting with another young woman and a trans woman. I always find outliers in networking events such as this because I am also one. We got food from the brunch buffet and people began to sit at the nearby tables while waiting for the speaker to begin.
I sat beside an older woman who told me she received her Ph.D. from MIT.
“Wow, I’m sure she has a lot of wisdom to share,” I thought.