To the Queens of 2019

June 14, 2019

I pondered for some time what I should write about for my last post of the school year. I thought about a post in dedication to black queer folk being excellent, “When They See Us,” or even the importance of protecting black trans women. Those topics will certainly be covered in the near future, but as of now, I would like to dedicate my last post of the year to a group of women extremely dear to my heart: the black girls of the class of 2019.

 

 I am going to first talk about the PG County school bus. A yellow and black metal container on wheels housing some of the most brilliant, amazing, funny and caring people you will find in the world. As a small third grader, I was nervous to be on a bus full of girls I did not know as I went to a school far from anything I could’ve imagined. Then, I met four special fourth graders: Seymone, Amara, Jada, and Mayah. They were interesting, to say the least, but I never would have thought that these girls would have made such an impact on my life. We spent many afternoons laughing from the pits of our stomachs to the top of our throats at everything from things at school, the news, or me being stuck under a seat (in all honesty, not much has changed from Lower School).

 

 As years went on, some of these girls have left the school, but the memories we created have not left my heart. I will skip ahead to high school. Oh boy! Concomitantly the worst and best, high school has been a RIDE. Although I am not done “yet” (senioritis is heavily present), these three years have imperative to the person I am today.

 

BSU: A three-letter acronym that encompasses almost every word in the dictionary. I came into this club expecting a place to have fun and speak my mind, all true, but this club was so much more. The girls in 2019 became true sisters to me. Every time I felt unwanted or disregarded, they always made me feel like I belonged and gave me particular confidence to stand up for myself. I also appreciated how they let themselves be vulnerable, a genuine sign of strength that not many possess. From Ms. Scherbel’s English room to the lunchroom to even the Potomac River, these girls have been the most amazing, extraordinary, astounding, loving, caring, brilliant, hilarious, talented sisters I could have asked for. My sisters aided me in my growth from a weird ninth grader with barely any direction to a still weird but less aimless and much more confident rising senior.

 

I will miss the tea sessions we disguised as club meetings and the deafening, roaring laughter that filled every space we inhabited. I will miss you all’s wisdom and sage advice. I will miss our spontaneous dancing throughout the dreary halls and rooms of school. I will miss a million more things that I can’t fit on this page or probably should not mention. This is not a goodbye; this is a letter of thanks to a group of women who helped make the person I am today and I am forever grateful for that. To the queens of 2019, you all are special. You all exude black girl magic in every facet of your existence. You all are the leaders our world deserves, and I cannot wait to see all of your remarkable accomplishments in the future. Thank you, and I love you all!

 

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