The 'Self-Supervised' Token
'United Kingdom, 2025: <1% of 25,670 Professors are Black (61 of those are women)'1
Today I learned that I am a pioneer.
No, not destined to be - I am the expert now.
A.K.A: A Minority Ethnic Undergraduate Student.
With boundless thought and incessant scrutiny to behold, if you will.
So let's fantasise, just for a little while...
Given that I am, most naturally, the pinnacle of modern academia. I know more than all my professors, PhD scholars and academics put together. I most obviously have the grounds and legitimate authority to:
- Champion a new field of study
- Coin new terminology
- Start my own school of thought
For I am a black female scholar in England - who's stopping me?
No. I don't do STEM or indulge in contemporary visual arts.
No, I do that subject they warned you about. The one that won't get you hired; the dauntingly abstract ones that strike fear into the hearts of those craving stability (and to that, I empathise).
So I swim alone in deep, deep waters. An island with uncharted shores.
I float,
I dream,
I breathe,
I drown.
They're telling me to shoot for the stars, scream it from the rooftops.
But I haven't even ascended the stairs.
In fact,
I cannot find them. Because my vision is blurry.
And I swear some steps are missing.
'Self-Supervision' they say, "You can do it!"
Your hands were always meant to be rough and calloused, ready to graft.
Your bosom synonymous with sanctuary.
Your shoulders renowned for bearing the weight of the world.
Come on.
Have you ever known anything but hard work?
I should do it for the future.
For the expansion, diversity and inclusion for all.
I should do it for me, no-
I will do it for you. For your sons and daughters.
They'll call on me one day.
Cited, not sighted.
I've just got to figure out how to reach that roof.
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