Leks and the City, except the city is Oberlin, Ohio, Issue 11: Hello, Again!
by Lekan Aleshe-Shittu, Staff Writer
Hello, hello, hello again, dear friends! I’ve missed you! And I’ve missed this! I am so incredibly excited to be back. I was away last semester, and surprisingly, much of Oberlin is the same. It’s still cold (so cold that a few days ago, I forgot to wear gloves and my fingers quite literally started bleeding), it’s still quaint (so quaint that I’ve walked the entirety of campus over and over and over again in the span of a few days), and it is, of course, still fucking weird (how lovely it is to no longer be the only man in a room with earrings in).
I feel the need to (re)introduce myself for the billionth time—but only because, again, I was gone for a while. I promise not to be the kid who studied abroad and now never shuts up about it, but bear with me for this issue (and maybe a few more issues after this). There may be one or two stragglers wondering what the fuck this is, and I am nothing if not thorough.
Okay, here’s the spiel in five seconds:
My name is Lekan, a junior studying Africana Studies, Politics and Religion (I think this is the first time I’ve shared this on here, actually), and I run this lovely little column. I started it three years ago (woah) for two reasons: one, I wanted to document life as a Black and African international student at Oberlin, and two, I wanted people to understand what it felt like to be a minority in this space. I obviously don’t speak for every Black and African person on this campus, so whatever I share here is solely life through my lens. I usually bang these out, meaning I don’t read the essays back, I don’t censor my thoughts, and I don’t edit them (the lovely people at the Grape do indeed give me suggestions after though)—I sit in my little carrel on the fourth floor of Mudd and spill my guts. This is the 11th time I’ve done this. Ready?
Let’s go.
I went to Egypt for a few months. It was fucking bonkers. I saw ancient Egyptian ruins, partied in skyscrapers, kayaked on the Nile. I read a ton of books, saw a bunch of art, wrote a short story, and listened to plenty of music. I met kind, thoughtful, and hilarious people, ate delicious food, went to talks about gender and Sufism and the refugee crises in the Middle East. I built a life for myself there in the short span of four months. It was, in all honesty, a magical time. I will cherish it for the rest of my life.
Because I have so much to share, I think what I’ll do is this: I'll divide the many things I have to say into two issues, one (this one) will be much more casual and unceremonious, and the other (for the next issue), will dive into the weeds of what the experience of studying away was like, particularly in contrast to my Oberlin experience. Spoiler alert: it was very affirming. Sometimes, when I’m here, I feel like I’m insane. Like there’s something innately wrong with me, and that’s why I don’t get this place sometimes. Granted, now that I'm a third-year, I have no doubt that Oberlin is where I’m meant to be (if you’ve read this column before, you can quite literally watch me come to this conclusion over the course of the past three years). I really do love this charming little college town, and I really am incredibly grateful to be here. I’ve made amazing friends (many of whom have graduated, but we’ll get into that in another issue), I have phenomenal professors who care for me and the work that I do, and I have a support system that I do not think I’d have been able to find anywhere else.
So, evidently, these feelings of insanity have subsided, but sometimes I still do think, “What the fuck?” “Why are some people here unable to look me in the eye when they speak to me?” “Why does holding conversation with some people here feel like drinking a boatload of piss?” Leaving for a while made something very clear: I need to give myself some grace. Because, very often, it is DEFINITELY an Oberlin thing.
But again, that’s for later. What I really want to talk about in the limited real estate I have left in this article is all the things I’ve missed. Here goes:
OH MY GOD, Umami bowls. The college I attended in Cairo didn't have a dining hall, and so I spent much of the semester ordering food (and spending money, which as you can guess, is, like—not fun). And you know what? There were indeed times where I would’ve killed for an Umami bowl.
Wokeness. I definitely think that Oberlin as an institution has a problem, which is that a lot of its politics is performative, and as a consequence, a lot of the people who attend here also fall prey to the trap of equally performative politics. This has led to many curious and uncomfortable conversations (some of which I’ve shared here and others which I haven’t), as well as many actions I’ve critiqued in this column as well. That being said, I really did miss the freedom one has here to be their authentic self. I pierced my ears for the first time at Oberlin, I put on a crop top for the first time at Oberlin, I experimented, tried new things, figured out who I am and how I want to present at Oberlin—-and I think I definitely took that comfort and safety for granted. So I’m glad to be back at Weird (and one could venture, cool) Central :)
Routine (and how quiet it gets sometimes). Cairo is a large city, and I’ve lived in large, bustling cities all my life (Lagos in Nigeria and Johannesburg in South Africa). I am a city boy through and through, yet, I think spending a few years at Oberlin has birthed a new appreciation for the peace and quiet that may be found outside of a big city. I definitely will never live in another town like Oberlin, so its quaintness has burrowed itself into my heart (as long as it is in measured doses). I also realized how much I love routine when I was away. This is the perfect place for that.
My support system. From the Bonner Center, to my friends, to my favorite Professors in the Africana, MENA and Religion departments, I have cultivated relationships here that I cherish. And I’ve missed them dearly.
Oberlin is a weird place. It tricks you into loving it. I was excited to leave, but I think I was even more excited to come back, especially now that I only have two semesters left. I’m thrilled at the prospect of where another year here could take me. It’s all so fucking electrifying. Thank you, dear friend, for reading. I hope you are doing beautifully. And I hope you’ve had a great start to your semester. See you in the next one :)
All my love,
Leks.
