It has definitely been a difficult 2 years. I have cried tears of joy, tears of pain, and tears of disappointment in myself, in Yale, in America, in Zimbabwe. For me, college has not been a place where I discovered myself. It is a place where I lost myself to the questions in my head. If Christianity was forced on Zimbabweans during colonialism, why do people still practice it? Should I wear my hoodie tonight? Is she attractive or am I attracted to girls?
I have also constantly questioned whether studying in the United States was a good decision. Will a 4 year absence from Zimbabwe empower me to serve it better? How will my 12 engineering classes in a liberal arts school stack up against 36 engineering classes and a 1 year internship at the University of Zimbabwe? After seeing all the opportunities in the United States, and after realizing the potential that I have, will I ever happily go back home where electricity and water shortages will force me to be less productive with my life?
I have been forced to defend my beliefs and to have an opinion on some concepts that I could not have cared less about. Sometimes, I have risen to the challenge – gone ice skating, dated outside my race, danced to Katie Perry. Other times, my only comfort being the knowledge despite feelings of a loss of identity; I have still retained an ability to be vulnerable in a land where everyone is “doing well.”"