When I told my grandmother I was choosing Tougaloo over Mississippi State, she cried. Not sad tears. Happy tears. She said: "My grandfather couldn't read. And you're going to Tougaloo." 
I didn't fully understand until she explained. Her grandfather was born in 1895 in rural Mississippi. He was never allowed to go to school. He worked someone else's land his whole life. He died not knowing how to write his own name.
And now I'm going to Tougaloo. A college founded six years after the Civil War specifically to educate Black people when that was still dangerous.
That history matters to me. Not in a abstract way. In a real way. I'm living my ancestors' dreams.
But that's not the only reason I chose Tougaloo.
Mississippi State is a good school. But when I visited, I felt like a number. Large lectures. Long lines. Professors who didn't know my name.
At Tougaloo, I sat in on a political science class. Twelve students. The professor knew everyone's major, career goals, and something personal about each student. One student had a sick mother. The professor asked about her every week.
That's not small. That's intimate. That's family.
I'm not pretending Tougaloo is perfect. It's underfunded. The facilities are old. There's no football team to speak of.
But I'm not going to college for football. I'm going to learn. And I learn better when people know my name.
Mississippi State has 23,000 students. Tougaloo has 700. At Tougaloo, I'm not a number. I'm Tyrone.
That's worth everything.
I didn't fully understand until she explained. Her grandfather was born in 1895 in rural Mississippi. He was never allowed to go to school. He worked someone else's land his whole life. He died not knowing how to write his own name.
And now I'm going to Tougaloo. A college founded six years after the Civil War specifically to educate Black people when that was still dangerous.
That history matters to me. Not in a abstract way. In a real way. I'm living my ancestors' dreams.
But that's not the only reason I chose Tougaloo.
Mississippi State is a good school. But when I visited, I felt like a number. Large lectures. Long lines. Professors who didn't know my name.
At Tougaloo, I sat in on a political science class. Twelve students. The professor knew everyone's major, career goals, and something personal about each student. One student had a sick mother. The professor asked about her every week.
That's not small. That's intimate. That's family.
I'm not pretending Tougaloo is perfect. It's underfunded. The facilities are old. There's no football team to speak of.
But I'm not going to college for football. I'm going to learn. And I learn better when people know my name.
Mississippi State has 23,000 students. Tougaloo has 700. At Tougaloo, I'm not a number. I'm Tyrone.
That's worth everything.
