A Day in the Life of an Imposter

I’ve never been as hyper-aware of my ethnicity as I am now. Despite growing up in the south, I’ve thankfully never felt the weight of racism very prevalently in my personal life. Perhaps the effects were unseen, but I didn’t always feel different. I overlooked the barriers silently placed in my way.

I imagined going to a school center city would be brimming with different perspectives. But when I arrived, I was shocked to find that I was the only Black student in every one of my classes. I dressed differently, spoke differently, and seemed to have different aspirations than my peers.

The professors looked at us all through one lens, often making comments like, “enjoy this time while your parents are paying all of your expenses!” My stomach would clench. They couldn’t think family fully supported the whole class or even the majority, could they? Were most of the students receiving that kind of help?

Shaping a Perspective

I got used to the resources and sense of camaraderie that I found at my previous college. The student body was diverse and composed of primarily first-generation college students and those returning to school after having a family and career.

Education was valued and seen as a luxury that not everyone gets the chance at. However, when I switched schools, I noticed that not everyone views college that way. When I asked a peer next to me why they chose our university (a school that costs upwards of $40,000 per year), they simply answered that it was close to their home.

After attending a community college, I got accustomed to having a copy of my textbook available in the library. When I visited my new university's library, I was given a funny look and told they never keep copies of textbooks. I was up against an assignment deadline and needed a picture of the reading material (2 pages).

I asked my classmates for a picture of the assignment materials, and they didn’t respond; I asked my professor, who told me it would make him uncomfortable.

Soon into my junior year, I started to wonder why I felt so isolated? Why did I feel so different? Why, when I looked around, did I see no one who looked like me or came from a similar background?

It weighed heavily on my shoulders and tanked my mental health. I started to wake up in the morning with a tight ball of tension in my chest, knowing I would have to face the day. I began to doubt myself and the value of my accomplishments. I dismissed everything I worked hard for as luck and accepted that I would eventually be found out as a fraud.

The Unequal Distribution of Wealth and Education

In 2019 the Federal Reserve released a study exhibiting Black Americans own less than 15 percent of wealth their White counterparts do.

The median income for a White family was $188,200, while for a Black family, it was $24,100.

There are centuries of oppression built into the systems we all operate under in society. Perhaps I feel so different, because I am. I've come to realize that very few Black students have attended this university, and even fewer transferred in.

By purpose or consequence of the injustice systems in our culture, I do not believe I was meant to be attending a prestigious, expensive university. A role previously reserved for the wealthy and, unfortunately, typically white.

I feel torn between two mindsets, one where I'm incredibly thankful for an opportunity and the chance to receive a quality education. Where I then must maximize that opportunity and achieve great feats in order to prove I deserve what I have.

“As an African-American student, I was taught I would need to ‘work twice as hard to be half as good.'”

-Frederick Hives, a fourth-year PsyD candidate at John F. Kennedy University in Pleasant Hill, Calif.

Another part of me, craves friendship and a college experience that I feel is supportive and inducive of growth. I want an environment where I don’t have to prove myself and I’m given respect without any achievements.

All the inner tumeroil leaves me confused and frustrated. This coupled with the fact that I don’t feel comfortable sharing my feelings only furthers my isolation.

Learning to Swim

"There's a sense of being thrown into the deep end of the pool and needing to learn to swim," he says. "But I wasn't just questioning whether I could survive. In a fundamental way, I was asking, ‘Am I a swimmer?'"

-PhD student at The New School, In New York City

Imposter syndrome snakes its way into the lives of anyone who is top-performing. It’s often undetectable or mistaken for a personality trait. According to Crystal Raypole, a writer for Healthline, those who suffer from imposter syndrome may experience feelings of self-doubt that persist despite their accomplishments.

This phenomenon was first discovered in the 1970s when American Psychology researchers began to study the minds of successful businesswomen in male dominated fields.

Later, studies centered on imposter syndrome began to gain more traction. Specifically, experts focused on the effects of the disorder on minority students.

The University of Texas polled three hundred thirty-two minority students from an anonymous university and asked about their feelings of competency.

Black students dealt with significantly higher levels of “impostorism" and thus higher levels of anxiety, as well as depression related to the discrimination they perceived around them.

There is a lot of a grey area, and the tie between racism and impostorism has yet to be adequately studied. But there seems to be a clear link between unequal access to resources between the races, and feelings of imposterism in high achieving minorities.

Parting Words

I’m not a psychologist, nor have I studied the mechanics of racism and it’s far reaching effects. All I know is my experience, and in his moment, I feel isolated and alone.

But as one of the few Black women to attend the university I do, I feel a responsibility to make the path easier for those who come after me. I am obligated not to slip through the cracks and to share my perspective because no one else can do it for me.

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