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The stereotypes that were presented to me when I was at Slippery Rock University were the most I have ever received in my whole entire life. I lived in a double suite in the dorms that they just built. I had three roommates who were all very cool, but they were a big part of the reason why I left Slippery Rock in the first place.
On move in day, I already felt kind of out of place, but I sucked it up and told myself that this was college, and I needed to make new friends especially with my roomies. As the days and the weeks went by, I started to realize that my roommates were starting to to get a little too comfortable; meaning that some things they would ask me were getting a little out of hand. At first I didn't mind because I looked at as them being curious and asking innocent questions, but after a while, I started to feel like a science project. They were studying me a bit too hard and after a while I started to get uncomfortable with it.
My roommate's boyfriend everyday would ask me "Could you teach me how to dance? I know you know that new Soulja Boy dance?" It started getting repetitive. I told him, "You know, we don't all know how to dance?" He says, "Sure you all do or at least have rhythm." I remember y closest roommate Jo had asked me could I fight some girl that she had just so happened to run into on campus. She said that this girl stole her boyfriend in high school and so on and so fourth. I guess she assumed that we could fight too or at least that's what we are known for. I liked her a lot though, and I don't think she meant anything by what she said, but at the same time it was hard to put a smile on my face and laugh about it late after that comment.
Certain questions like "Do all blacks eat fried chicken, Kool-Aid, Watermelon, etc" were getting so old and tiring, and I honestly got sick of it. My roommates and I started to have a lot of issues. A lot of the issues were amongst themselves, but mine with them were the constant questions about me like I was foreign. Our RA even sat down with us one time to straighten out any issues that we were having with each other, but it didn't work.
By December of '07, I had already withdrawn from the university, sold all my books back and transferred to Point Park University. When finals were over and our winter vacation began, I packed every last one of my things and moved back home ready to start my spring semester at a better, more diverse, non-ignorant university. That is my Slippery Rock blues.
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