My Resilience is Genetic
I once read a research article that entirely reframed my perception of human resilience. One of the findings that was wildly interesting to me is that there is a strong possibility that resilience can be linked to a specific genetic trait. What on earth does this have to do with anything? My journey at BYU has been anything but easy for me. Between general culture shock, racism, and sexism, I’ve spent many a day questioning my decision to come here for school. But my resilience is genetic.
Growing up, I was constantly told stories about how the African slaves on the island of Jamaica were the rowdiest, toughest, and most rebellious slaves. They regularly fought against their masters and started notoriously bloody revolts for freedom. But even before being on the island of Jamaica, they survived harsh treatment and an even harsher trip through the Atlantic slave trade. The same story can be told for thousands upon thousands of African people, stolen from their land and forced into slavery throughout the Americas. I believe my Jamaican ancestors built the genes for resilience all on their own. And failing to honor that gene is the last thing I’ll do.
I'm not comparing my struggles at school to the struggles of my ancestors, but I am saying they gave me everything I needed to get through them. When I imagined my life at BYU, I knew it would have its struggles, but I never thought I would find myself sitting in class, wondering if my acceptance to BYU rested solely on being Black. This is a thought I’d never wish on anyone, but it’s one I’ve had a lot as a result of comments made to me on campus. I’ve been told that I was only accepted to BYU to “fill a quota” or to “make BYU more diverse.” As someone who already struggles with imposter syndrome, these comments destroyed what little confidence I had and sent me into an awful downward spiral. And that is only the beginning of the pain, hurt, and isolation I’ve experienced being on campus. Every day is a struggle to remind myself that I am exactly as intelligent and capable as I know I am. It has taken a lot of time to build my confidence to know that I am more than anyone thinks of me, but now that confidence is my shield, and it’s unbreakable. I have struggled in many ways since being at BYU, but I have the tools I need to survive built directly into me.
So why do I stay? What’s the point of staying somewhere that is hateful toward me? Change. If my ancestors can change their literal genetics just by being resilient, I can make a change by standing firm in the face of hate and prejudice. I’m a low-income, first-generation college student; being able to attend school has been my dream my whole life. I am making my family proud by earning a degree in neuroscience with a minor in ASL, and I will not let any level of ignorance ruin that. I have worked in research labs, and I’ve traveled across the globe to study my passion; I am every dream my parents had when they stepped on the plane to come to the United States. I know that I can’t change a whole system on my own, but any change I can incite makes life a little easier for the next student, and that’s more than enough for me. I will be the change for others, just as my ancestors made a change for me.
One of my favorite quotes ever is “I am my ancestor’s wildest dream.” In the days of brutal slavery, my ancestors could barely imagine walking free, much less going to college and earning a degree. I am everything my ancestors never thought they could dream of. And with every ounce of who I am, I will make them proud. I am the product of hundreds of years of slavery, prejudice, and outright hate; my ancestors walked thousands of miles in chains so that I could walk one mile in freedom. So no matter how hard it gets, or how much I want to give up, I will stand tall and remember one thing: my resilience is more than a mindset; it’s genetic.