My name is Tiffany Martínez. As a McNair Fellow and student scholar, I’ve presented at national conferences in San Francisco, San Diego, and Miami. I have crafted a critical reflection piece that was published in a peer-reviewed journal managed by the Pell Institute for the Study of Higher Education and Council for Opportunity in Education. I have consistently juggled at least two jobs and maintained the status of a full-time student and Dean’s list recipient since my first year at Suffolk University. I have used this past summer to supervise a teen girls empower program and craft a thirty page intensive research project funded by the federal government. As a first generation college student, first generation U.S. citizen, and aspiring professor I have confronted a number of obstacles in order to earn every accomplishment and award I have accumulated. In the face of struggle, I have persevered and continuously produced…
View original post 948 more words
*Cue Rihanna’s Needed Me*
DIDN’T THEY TELL YOU THAT I WAS A SAVAGE?????
The scene is set in a group chat titled ‘bad bitches’. Miss X, who will later be known as said savage referenced above, hits up the group chat to give them the latest update on her relations with bae a.k.a poor unsuspecting guy who is trying his best to not only impress but also express his feelings towards Miss X (see what I did there? 🙃). So Miss X goes on to tell the group chat about how ‘moist’, ‘soft’ and how much of a ‘pushover’ bae is and how after 5 months of him putting in his best efforts, wine’ing and dining, showing care & love etc. the whole shebang, at their just concluded date, he asked her to be his girlfriend and she said and I quote “ You’re nice and all but honestly not the…
View original post 505 more words
Got so much I have wanted to blog about this summer but time and other stuff have got in the way. I promise those will come later.I write this blog lying down on my bed, eating plantain chips and drinking OJ, I’m currently thinking about how overwhelming work has been these last two weeks so I’ve given myself 20 minutes to finish this post. This is a long overdue blog about me finally achieving the thing I came to uni in this country to do, get a first.
“Are they out yet?”, my Polish room mate and friend, Szymon asked. “Nah”, I said, “I just checked it like 3 minutes ago”. “Oh shit, they’re out. I got a first. I actually did really well. Go on Bob-Soile (got to hear him pronounce this haha) check your. This is your year, man”. My heart was pounding, I finally opened the page and…
View original post 705 more words
It doesn’t make sense that I’m sitting here, in front of a beautiful lake, admiring the creation of the Lord. No, not the admiration part, the sitting in front of a lake part.
It doesn’t make all my expenses are paid, and all I have to do is read my bible and books, write and just be.
Neither does it makes sense that I have an internship this summer where I’m earning in one month, what I earned in thirteen weeks last year.
I thought I had seen it all.
I have shared a few testimonies on this blog before. I have written the good things that the Lord has done for me, I have told you all how it doesn’t make sense that I’m where I am today.
I don’t get it, I just do not.
I rarely talk about the things that I do to keep my relationship with…
View original post 1,001 more words
The conductor’s tribal marks – three long horizontal lines across each cheek – along with his wild eyes and scraggly beard, make him look like a tiger. The bus is full, so he supports himself against the door frame while collecting money from passengers. He does this as the bus speeds down the expressway, all the while calling out as we near every stop.
When I came to Lagos, I was always amazed – and worried – at how fast danfos go along this road, especially when there are bus stops every few hundred meters. Everyone else ever seemed to be used to it. The possibility of accidents definitely didn’t frighten them as much as it did me. The fear of labelling myself an outsider is the only thing that kept me from screaming every time a bus I was on shook or lurched, or almost crashed into another vehicle…
View original post 3,309 more words
Ma’am. Ma’am! I did not realize the registration fee for the revolution was going to be so high.
Me logged on to Ticketmaster
First of all, thank you. You are a phenomenal performer, businessperson, icon and GIF-factory. We are lucky to share the Earth with you.
Second of all, what the fuck are you doing charging me all this money for your concert? Where am I supposed to get the scratch to pay for your Givenchy-brand event? Can I pay in Frank’s Red Hot? Do you take Red Lobster gift cards? Do you?
No. You do not.
I, like many of my compatriots, am woke af. Now. This morning I greeted my fiance with a hearty “Black Power!” (He is white. This was awkward. Yes we can, amiright?) But, ma’am, I got to pay for cable. And a wedding. And, Bey, your husband told me I had…
View original post 538 more words