I remember a time when I felt powerless,
A feeling that clung to me like an old shadow, but this time, it cut deeper.
What hurt the most?
Was it the grand facade of empathy? The hollow promises of inclusion?
Or the crushing weight of a system meant to uplift which instead suffocates?
Was it the professor, whose name I proudly shared with my family?
How could they harm me, fail me?
Perhaps this is why some words are better left unsaid.
Was it the syllabus that questioned my place,
As though I was a stranger in the equation,
Left wondering where I fit in?
I thought this was supposed to be my space
to learn, to grow, to belong.
But I was powerless.
No face greeted me with kindness.
No hands reached out to comfort me.
In my sickness, backs were turned.
In my grief, faces were buried.
In the space I once adored, I stood alone.
Where is the strong self I once knew?
Where is her smile that could brighten the darkest night?
Where is her warm embrace, soothing the cold that now consumes me?
I fear for my future.
I fear for those who look to me for strength,
For how can the broken heal the lost?
So I write this ode to my strength,
In hopes she finds her way back to me,
And perhaps one day,
She will forgive the structure that stole her from me.
But how can I forget the silence?
The quiet rejections that echoed louder than words,
The doors that closed when I needed them open,
The policies that saw numbers, not faces—
A place that promised to mold minds, yet left mine shattered.
I mourn the dream of belonging,
The ideal of education as a sanctuary,
Where was the justice in my questioning eyes?
The answers never came, only more walls.
And now I am rebuilding,
Piece by piece, breath by breath,
Climbing out of the rubble of expectation,
Chasing the light that used to live within me.
I will rise, though my heart still trembles,
For my strength is not gone, just sleeping,
And one day,
When the dust settles,
I will look at this institution not with hatred,
But with the wisdom earned in pain,
And know—
It did not break me.
Sophie Whyte, a Nigerian-born poet and storyteller, bridges cultures through her words. Her work explores memory, connection, and the small moments that make up our shared human experience. While she rests her pen, you will find her catching up on some well-deserved sleep or binge-watching shows.