I was reminded I don’t have to start telling my story when it’s over, I can tell it in the midst of all that’s happening. So, here I am…again.

The Road to Becoming

Many of you have watched my personal journey up close and afar– starting with my pursuit to become a journalist to actually watching me report on Mississippi folk and the Black talent that exudes from that beautiful place I call home. You all journeyed with me through college, reading my stories about love and heartbreak, then you followed me through my transparent moments that I had to share with the world on Take A Seat Podcast just to make sure I wasn’t the only one alone in the fight of figuring out life. You all granted me space in your lives, your rooms, your cars listening to my thought-provoking, self-reflective conversations that gave me inspiration and strength.

Then, there’s many MANY of you are just now being introduced to me. There’s a lot to unravel for you all, but I will say after this read, you’ll see more commonalities than you did before. To catch everyone up, I thought what better way to just start with what I know best. When I can’t seem to articulate it verbally or visually craft it through reels or Instagram stories, I thought “just write.“

My life has always been tied to storytelling as you can see. Writing is a feeling of release, transparency, and expression. It’s a gift that lies within me that always seem to find its way back to my existence– purpose, I’ll call it.

I’m asked all of the time why did I leave journalism? I didn’t leave the art, I left the newsroom. I knew once words couldn’t flow anymore, it was time for something new. I felt my vision enlarge from a place that no longer fit into where I would be directed next. But, where was next? It was time to move from home because I had been given everything I needed. All that I could get out of Mississippi was gifted to me, now, it was time for me to write my own damn rules and light up another city.

The Road Away From Home

The next pit stop in my journey is Northwestern University. School again? Yes. A prestigious Top 10 school in Evanston, Illinois. A 20 mile drive from the Windy City, Chicago. A 759 mile drive from Jackson. A totally different life of people, a quiet and kept environment, and a college town that feels only like the elite of academia lives here if I don’t explore.

You may be wondering why Northwestern? A year before I was even admitted, I would fantasize about the Integrated Marketing Communications Program. I joined mock classes hosted by faculty after work. I researched. I messaged current grad students. For a minute, hell, you would’ve thought I was already enrolled as much time as I was dedicated to learning all about Northwestern. LOL. But that’s how certain I was. That’s how connected I was. I knew I wanted to be taught by industry leaders and notable professors who could help me push my imaginations further and feed my curiosity. I wanted to learn how to use my words to help shape the narratives of global brands through storytelling and strategy.

Beyond that, I was looking to grow personally and I felt Chicago solved what I was looking for in Mississippi. Vibrancy, newness, innovation, and independence. I planted my seed of faith when I traveled for my birthday weekend in July 2020. I knew then it was written that I would breathe the Chicago air and call it home.

A year later applications opened. I kept saying “omg I’m going to tell my kids about this feeling one day.” I was nervous. Ready. Then, nervous again. Submitted my package. Waited, nervously. I worked it away. I received an email of acceptance into Round 1 interviews. Zoomed with family for practice. Continued reporting stories, doing what I love. Then, I clicked “connect” on video call and I shared my story that I never truly articulated to anyone else so fluidly, so at ease.

Three months later, my phone rings and under the unknown number it says “Evanston,IL.” In my bonnet, sitting on my boyfriend’s (update: ex-boyfriend‘s) couch I answered and a familiar voice that I recognized from Graduate Admissions said “Congratulations, I wanted to share with you that you have been admitted in to Northwestern University.”

I packed my car with keepsakes and clothes and drove to my new home for the next 15 months.

The Winding Road

My first quarter was a gut wrenching experience. 10 weeks, four classes Monday through Thursday, 30 hour course load, 20+ study sessions, little sleep even though it was encouraged by my professors to make self care a priority. How can I make health a focus when I have to study and complete assignments?? I looked to my roommate and all the other Black students who were preparing to walk in three months. I was reminded of the Black students who graduated years prior too. It was all inspiring. I knew if they could, I could too.

I studied harder. I passed. I failed. I fell to the ground. I prayed. I cried. What in the entire FXCK. I felt the energy depleting from my soul.

When I didn’t have myself. I had my family. I had support from loved ones that I could still feel miles away. Prayers kept me. The person I knew so well before entering the program faded. It was a new me emerging, all along.

The Road Less Traveled

As my story continues to be written, I trust MY journey. I trust this is divinely my own path, my own lane, my own race. This NOW is a part of my NEXT. And I believe my transparency will help me see my own growth and I hope it shows you too, your story doesn’t start once you achieve your goal– it starts in the midst.

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*I also never hit published. This blog entry was drafted Jan. 30, 2023 during my graduate school journey at Northwestern University. I proudly graduated December 9, 2023. Thank God for the beautiful ride!

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XoXo CHR

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent and could say, I used everything you gave me.” -E.B.