Straight Outta Exeter

I have always believed that skin colour doesn’t matter. This belief, however, was tested when I came to the University of Exeter.

When I left Dulwich College, a multi-cultural school with several black people like myself, I had no idea what I was getting myself in to upon arriving at Exeter in the September of 2010. Throughout my final year at Dulwich when I was applying to universities, I was told by various friends about Exeter’s reputation, a ‘white-man university’ as they put it and that I would find it strange down there. I took these warnings with a pinch of salt. How bad could it be? After-all, I have mixed with white people all my life; in fact my best friends were all white. I presumed that I was going to be a minority, but not to the extent that my friends were implying.

I was led to my room in Lazenby House and happened to be the first one there. One by one I greeted my seventeen new housemates and not one was black. Was I surprised? Not really. What are the chances that in my accommodation of only eighteen people I would find one of my own in there? They all seemed great people but immediately I found myself in unchartered territory. How did they view me? Although not an insecure person by nature, I couldn’t help but ask myself this question. I was scared of being prejudged.

In the evening everyone in Exeter Halls had to gather in Lopes dining room for an introductory talk. I entered and there I was, the black stain in a sea of whiteness. Not having a black person in my house was comprehensible, but not one in the whole of Exeter Halls was a massive shock to me. I had made my bed, now I had to lie in it.

As it turned out I was not in fact the only black person at the university. The following day I met three others in Exeter Halls who had arrived a day later and a couple from elsewhere on campus and immediately struck a bond with them. This helped me relax and my levels of paranoia decreased because I knew that I was not the only one. Although the first few days were tough, I now realise that it was me who made them so, and it was me and not my white counterparts who was doing the prejudging: I assumed that people would judge me, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I do get a lot of banter from my friends about being black but I expect it and have never been offended by any comment related to my skin colour. I actually find the majority of the jokes hilarious. I have never been the object of genuine racial abuse by anyone here, and do not expect that I ever will.

After studying here in Exeter for a year and a half, my belief that skin colour does not matter has not changed. There is no doubt that I feel different from other people, but I suppose that's normal. The contrast between my initial thoughts about my four years of university life here to my feelings about them now could not be starker. I have been pleasantly surprised by people’s attitude towards me and it is much appreciated.

Long may it continue.