Supporting my Fears

The beginning of my post-graduate journey began, well, the night before my long anticipated graduation. My family had arrived for the Multicultural Celebratory and wanted to witness all of the recognition that I would receive. After the celebratory, we decided to go out to eat as a family to further celebrate. In between the celebration and dinner, I had to stop at home to meet a deadline. This deadline was a submission of the application for a graduate program at The University of Tennessee. 

This program was my number one choice out of the three schools that I had applied for. They had a near-perfect graduation rate, near perfect exam rate, the faculty of the department seem to share my interests, the program coordinator was a Black male, and it was outside of the Midwest; all things that I was looking for in a program. I met all of the requirements through my undergraduate studies. Everything aligned, but for some reason, it was hard for me to pull the trigger and submit my application. Mind you, the deadline for submission was at midnight. This meant that I had no more time to think about it. So why was it so hard for me to do?

    I think I had a fear of rejection initially. But why would I be rejected? I met the requirements of the program, I found that my personality would fit well within their culture, and I had an outstanding list of extracurricular involvements of service. Was imposter syndrome coming back to haunt me after all of these years of getting over it? Nah, not entirely, but rejection did play a part in the fear. What would my family, friends, advisors, mentors, mentees think if things did not go as planned? Fear of criticism was striking. Every time someone asked me what was next after graduation, I gave them a straight, confident answer, “Grad school.”

Right around the corner of this submission was my family, the very same people who planted the seed of going to college in me. I arrived at dinner to see my family seated at our table. My seat was dead center in the middle of them. Everyone was elated with joy and happiness as the new college grad entered the room. I remained cool and put my stress in my back pocket. I wanted to take this time to relax and enjoy my family. As I am finally becoming relaxed, my Auntie asked me the dreadful question that most recent graduates dislike hearing, “So what’s next Quan?” I pushed out a hard exhale and told my family that I had just submitted my application. To my surprise, no one posed any challenges. They asked why I chose the school and why I chose the program and then we went back to eating like a normal family; well, our normal.

When the attention was off of me, I was able to sit and think. I scanned the table and seen love. These were the people that love me the most in the world. They typically don’t expect anything from me except for me to try at life. My every move inspires my little cousins who feel like siblings to me. My aunties treat me as a son of theirs and want me to succeed in all of my endeavors. My nana demands that I stay on course and do not embody the negative stereotypes that falsely mask the Black male identity. My mother, well she hopes the world is treating her baby alright. Realizing this was a relief, this is my support team.

I challenge you as the reader to take a moment and think about who is your support team? What brought their initiation? How do you support them? How has their support impacted your life? I appreciate my team. I know that when it comes to them that I can be confident in all things that I pursue. It all became clear to me that fear of rejection, criticism, and failure doesn’t apply with them. If it doesn’t apply with them, should it apply at all?

Fear is a defense mechanism that often alerts us from dangerous or threatful situations. As much as fear can protect us, it can also bring our greatest strides to a halt. I have a tattoo that reads fearless, and I must shamefully admit that I still have fears. But the goal isn’t to be fearless, but to fear less.