Decision Day Didn’t Go the Way I Thought It Would

The outcome I couldn’t fully see when I was making the decision.

Last week’s “Decision Day” for high school seniors—the day they announce where they’re headed for college—made me think about my own.

Because my decision?

It didn’t go the way I thought it would.

The Dream

Since 8th grade, I saw myself here—no questions asked.

I wanted to be a Bison.

Howard University had been my dream school since about 8th grade. In my mind, it checked every box.

I spent most of my life at The Latin School of Chicago—from 2nd through 12th grade. A predominantly white institution.

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  7th grade at The Latin School of Chicago

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  3rd grade at The Latin School of Chicago

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  6th grade at The Latin School of Chicago

So naturally, I was craving something different.

Let’s be honest—I’ve always been attracted to Black boys. That’s my preference.

Latin didn’t offer that option.

I grew up on the West Side of Chicago—North Ave and Laramie. My grandma wasn’t playing about who I could spend time with. Most of the neighborhood boys were, in her words, “pissy ass boys.”

Church wasn’t an option either. Too many eyes.

Especially when your mom is the Executive Assistant to the Pastor.

So where did I go?

Up North to the skating rink.

Rainbo, every Friday through Sunday. That’s where I got my fix.

They were cute (to me), Northside hood, could skate, could dance—and they liked me.

Rainbo—once a staple in Chicago. Now gone, but never forgotten.

So in my mind, Howard University wasn’t just a school.

It was the experience.

The culture.

The education.

The environment.

And yes—the dating pool.

I told everybody I was going to Howard.

Then the acceptance letter came.

I was in.

The Reality Check

Me counting coins like… “Somehow, it's gonna work out.”

My college counselor kept trying to ground me.

She told me to wait for my financial aid packages.

Encouraged me to keep my options open.

Suggested I go on college tours.

I remember thinking:

“For what? I already know where I’m going.”

But to be respectful, I listened.

She suggested I visit Earlham College in Richmond, Indiana.

I had never heard of the school.

I was even mispronouncing it—calling it Earl-ham when it was actually Earl-um.

And the town? Never heard of that either.

And I made it very clear to everyone on that trip:

“I’m only here because my counselor told me to come. I’m going to Howard.”

The Unexpected Detour

Wait… why am I enjoying this?

And then something unexpected happened.

I actually had a good time.

The people were welcoming.

The experience was fun.

The connections felt easy.

Still… in my mind?

Not Howard.

The Numbers Don’t Lie

Me reading that $5,000 financial aid package…

Then my financial aid package from Howard University came in.

$5,000 per year.

I stared at it like…Wait. That’s it?

I was nearly brought to tears.

I had to ground myself.

My grades were strong.

I knew I was academically capable.

But Howard is an HBCU—full of students who looked like me, excelled like me, and were just as competitive.

And the reality?

The schools that weren’t predominantly Black were offering me significantly more.

Decision Day—Choosing Wisdom Over Want

This is what I was thinking about when it came time to choose—family, responsibility, and the bigger picture.

I had to make a real decision.

My mom was a single parent raising four of us. There was no college fund waiting for me.

I was a first-generation college student.

I wanted to make the Marshall name mean something—without putting a financial burden on myself or my mom.

So I went back through all 11 acceptance letters.

This time, with the financial aid packages front and center.

And when I looked at it objectively?

Earlham College made the most sense.

When Life Starts “Lining Up”

My Senior prom—part of the story, but not the destination.

And life added a little twist.

One of the guys I met on that college tour?

He became my senior-year boyfriend.

He was from Miller, Indiana.

We went to each other’s proms.

And he chose Earlham too.

At the time, it all felt like it was lining up perfectly.

The Wrong Add-On

The decision was right. The situation? Not quite.

I started college at Earlham College…

With a boyfriend already by my side.

Wrong decision.

Not the Experience I Came For

This is what it felt like—being held back from the full experience.

Earlham was about 8% Black.

Latin had been closer to 2%.

So yes, there were more Black students—but still a small community, many of them athletes.

I was well-liked by a lot of the Black guys on campus.

The Black girls? Not so much at first.

And my boyfriend?

He was jealous.

If I spoke to other guys, it was a problem.

And for me—that wasn’t the college experience I had imagined.

I had been looking forward to being in an environment where I could connect, explore, and be around intelligent Black men freely.

I grew up a hooper—being around boys felt natural to me.

But with him?

Everything felt restricted.

The Transfer That Wasn’t

Me like… yeah, I gotta go.

I wanted out.

I told my mom I was thinking about transferring.

She told me to research the process and come back with a plan.

So I did.

And what I found?

Most of my credits wouldn’t transfer cleanly.

Which meant I’d be a fifth-year senior.

All I heard was:

More time.

More money.

More burden.

The Second Decision

So, I made another decision.

I stayed.

Freedom Changed Everything

Freedom. Finally.

And then… life shifted again.

My boyfriend couldn’t return the following year due to his own financial situation.

He suggested we do long distance.

I declined.

I wanted to be free.

I came back my sophomore year with a completely different mindset.

And that’s when everything changed.

I had fun.

Real fun.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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  My people—my family for four years at Earlham.

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I went to parties.

Joined clubs.

Played basketball with whoever I wanted.

Built genuine friendships.

I even found my tight circle.

A group of Black girls who eventually became my people.

We called ourselves “The Indians.”

And somehow, I became “Chief.”

“The Indians”—my people, my circle, my foundation.

They saw me as a leader—someone grounded, thoughtful, but also funny.

When they needed advice or perspective, they came to me.

Leaning Into the Experience

Academically, I leaned in too.

The school asked me to be a writing tutor—and I said yes.

I helped students strengthen their writing and reading comprehension.

I took it seriously—and I loved it.

I also wrote for the school newspaper as a Staff Writer in the Sports department, tapping back into my blooming love for journalism.

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  Where I started discovering my voice—and what I could do with it.

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  Where I started discovering my voice—and what I could do with it.

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  Where I started discovering my voice—and what I could do with it.

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  Where I started discovering my voice—and what I could do with it.

What I realized was this:

Earlham College had so much to offer.

As long as I was willing to seek it out.

Better Than I Imagined

It ended up being one of the best experiences of my life.

One of my closest friends came from that time—also from Chicago.

She was our “petty” Indian… always had something slick to say.

And 20+ years later?

I still love her dearly.

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  Present Day with the "Petty" Indian

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  Circa 2005 with the "Petty" Indian

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  Celebrating milestone birthdays together.

The Outcome

When it was all said and done, I graduated with about $27,000 in student loans.

I had also earned both college and departmental honors after four undergraduate years.

Had I gone to Howard University?

It would’ve easily been over $100,000.

Me calculating what that decision would’ve really cost me…

And while I will always have love for that institution—and for the students who get to experience it—

I’m proud of the decision I made.

The Moment That Meant Everything

And then came 2005—graduation day.

I still had a remaining balance with the school—about $2,500.

They told me I would receive the envelope when I walked across the stage…but my degree wouldn’t actually be inside until the balance was paid.

So, when my name was called, I walked across that stage proud of what I had accomplished—

But I wasn’t in a rush to open the envelope.

I already knew what was supposed to be in there.

Or… what wasn’t.

But I opened it anyway.

The degree I was certain I wouldn’t receive that day.

And I cried.

My mom had made a sacrifice to cover the balance.

She made sure that when I walked across that stage…I walked away with my degree in hand.

Because I didn’t just choose based on what I wanted.

I chose based on what was wise.

That moment meant everything to me.

My village—the love behind my walk across stage.

My family was there—my grandma, my favorite aunt Trese… both of whom have since passed.

And in that moment, it wasn’t just about me.

It was about us.

Legacy Over Everything

The moment I did what I set out to do—showing all 32 teeth.

The Marshall family now has a college degree attached to our legacy.

And I carry that with pride.

Even now, I’m still the only one in my family with a degree—

But I don’t see that as the end of the story.

I see it as the beginning.

Because my hope is that my nieces and nephews go even further.

To the Class of 2026

A message from me to you—walk with intention and trust your path.

So, to every student announcing their decision this month—

Embrace the unknown.

Be open to the pivot.

Immerse yourself in the experience—there’s so much waiting to shape you.

And don’t be afraid if your path doesn’t look like what you imagined.

Because sometimes…

The life you didn’t plan ends up shaping you the most.

Life is funny.

Beautiful… if you let it be.