Back to School, Back to Self: A Spring Semester Invocation

Dehjah Vaughn
Jan 27
2 min read

For HBCU Undergraduate & Graduate Students

January doesn’t come gently. It arrives with bills still echoing from December, grief tucked behind syllabi, and a quiet question hovering in the chest: Do I really have it in me again?

Yes.But not in the way capitalism taught you to answer that.

This semester is not about proving your worth. It’s about continuing a lineage.

Two smiling women with braided hair stand outdoors. A brick building and trees are in the background. Black and white image.

At an HBCU, returning to class is never neutral. You are stepping back into institutions born from refusal; refusal to disappear, refusal to be uneducated, refusal to let violence be the final curriculum. Every time you log into Blackboard, sit in a seminar, or cross the yard half-awake, you are participating in a long tradition of Black persistence with intention.

“Keep going” does not mean burn yourself down.

It means:

Keep going even when your capacity looks different than last semester
Keep going while grieving
Keep going without romanticizing struggle
Keep going while demanding rest, accommodation, and humanity

For undergraduates: You are not behind. You are learning how to survive systems that were not designed for your thriving, and you are doing it publicly. Confusion does not mean incompetence. Exhaustion does not mean laziness. Ask the question. Take up space. Use the tutoring center. Visit the counseling office. That is not a weakness; that is a strategy.

Two women stand back-to-back with arms crossed, smiling. One wears a pink jacket, the other a striped blouse. Cream background, friendly mood.

For graduate students: You are allowed to be brilliant and tired. You are allowed to love your research and still resent the institution. Imposter syndrome is not intuition; it is a predictable response to being structurally unsupported. Your presence in the academy is not accidental; it is disruptive by design. Pace yourself as if you plan to be here long enough to change something.

This semester, let discipline be gentle. Let productivity be sustainable. Let excellence be collective.

People gathered around a picnic table outdoors, smiling and holding signs. A bike is nearby, and trees fill the sunny background.

Keep going, but redefine what that looks like:

Some days it’s reading three pages instead of thirty.
Some days it’s submitting the draft, not the masterpiece.
Some days it’s choosing sleep over self-punishment.
Some days, it’s remembering that your ancestors didn’t endure so you could hate yourself in silence.

You do not owe anyone perfection.You owe yourself continuity.

Three graduates in red attire and blue sashes, labeled UCONN, stand thoughtfully by a railing in an outdoor setting.

So return not just to campus, but to your why.Return to the knowledge that your education is both personal and political.Returning to know that staying is an act of resistance. A reminder to what there is to complete.

The spring semester is not a restart.It is a continuation.

And you are still here.

Remember the sacrifice.

Is for something bigger than you or me.

Keep going. But keep going whole.