Student and Subject

Having really done a lot of work to achieve greater mental and emotional clarity over the past two years, I’m experiencing reactions to my schoolwork and readings that I must have had back in the day but just ignored because they were uncomfortable.

So, back in middle school and high school I had a really great English teacher, probably the person who made me want to write more than anyone else. The school forced us to read a Shakespeare play every year from 4th grade to 12th (and then I went ahead and read all the rest in college; I still have that giant book somewhere at my mom’s), but this teacher was very intentional in choosing books from different contexts, including many black authors I gather weren’t read in most schools, and especially not very white schools like mine. It was great, in retrospect, and I really enjoyed reading Morrison and Hurston, but doing some work for school now I am struck by how I feel while reading articles about African American Vernacular English (AAVE).

I’ve know about AAVE as such since the first time I went to grad school (sigh), but the author of the particular study I’m reading was clear to frame her positionality as a white researcher in the context of exploitative research performed on marginalized groups. In other words, she was sensitive and kind and acknowledged that others haven’t been. It’s a great article (though it’s super long). But that’s not my point.

While reading, I was struck by the way AAVE is analyzed and picked apart. And then I thought about how my program, supportive though it may be, is still… a lot of white students. These are, by and large, very kind and sensitive white students. But the point I keep delaying because it’s uncomfortable to say is, I think for a long time I felt as though I was on display when we discussed black culture, students, and, now, language. I don’t really speak AAVE very often though I certainly understand it, which is another way of saying I’m pretty far from the stereotypes and tropes of black men. I’m not really saying that’s good or bad, but it’s true.

Ultimately, my teachers and professors have generally handled the issue well. Especially now, my classmates never say anything that makes me feel on display. But I think that my classmates, being very young and very privileged kids, did a lot of really unsettling things when these books were read in class, and I’m pretty sure it was pretty unpleasant. I can’t pinpoint moments, but there was a pervasive sense that these books mattered less than the standard classics, at least as far as my classmates were concerned.

My experience being one of the few black faces in my environments was valuable, but sometimes I think the thing I learned the very most about every day was just how different my life was from theirs.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality

Brooklyn 2019

My streak of “better than the previous year” race results has ended after 6 races (Team Champs, Bronx, Marathon, Corbitt, Gridiron, Wash Heights, Healthy Kidney).

That’s disappointing. But it was hot at the end of this race. I need to anticipate sunny spots and… well I haven’t really figured out what to DO about them yet. Maybe wear a hat. What part of me overheats? My face? Arms? This I will have to test.

Overall, though, good race. Faster 10k-15k than 5k-10k, so I picked the speed back up after the hills and ran strong until the sun got me. And I actually only slowed down to a 7:00/mile pace while throwing up, so that’s pretty fast.

Wish I’d hit my top goals but I am in good - but not my very best - shape. And after 2017 and early 2018 were rough, I have had a full year of consistent training and performance, and that’s good to feel.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality


If you had asked me what my favorite song was, invariably the answer would have been some song with which I associated a really positive emotional memory. Whether it’s a bunch of Metric songs I got really into on a trip to Vietnam in 2009 when I was becoming more confident as an adult, or all the many songs I fell in love with in 2005 when I joined Terrace and felt accepted for the first time, or even all the angry Eminem songs from high school, it was hard to say what songs I liked as songs and not just songs that took me back to happy times.

Music has honestly been a difficult subject for me, and one of the ways that racism has manifested for me more noticeably. I’ve come to recognize the microaggressions I was experiencing every day, but at the time, dismissing black music was a really acceptable way to dismiss the value of blackness.

In eleventh grade, I had the “brilliant” idea to make a mix CD for a class assignment. I had put a bunch of current hip hop songs on it, and I thought it was very clever. Only problem was, a girl in my class had the same idea, and she went right before me, and her entire CD was 80s music. The class loved her presentation, and stared blankly at mine. This, I’m not saying was racist, however it was a stark contrast and one that surprised me. As remains the case in 2019, hip-hop was extremely popular in 2002, but, having not experienced different groups of kids, I had no idea the strangehold that 80s music (and older music) had on my peers.

What I should have done was stick up for what I liked. But I wanted to be welcomed.

That summer, I went to France on a study abroad program, and this was now a new group of high-achieving kids to get to know. One girl (I would say “woman” but we were all 15-17), who now writes for the Economist, told me two things, one of which was true and one of which wasn’t. She said that she didn’t like hip-hop because it was misogynistic (much of it was, and is), and because it didn’t take any talent to create it.

Leaving aside the fact that every genre is misogynistic and singling out black artists is not great (a lot of white critics pull this move), this second theory came up a lot on that trip. Several people on the trip, who were huge fans of jam bands and the Dead (I hate jam bands to this day because of these kids), frequently told me directly that the music I’d brought with me was worthless and lacking in value. (You will not be surprised to hear I was the only black kid.)

I should have stuck up for what I liked. But I wanted to be welcomed.

And then there was college, where this all went into overdrive. Everyone really loved 80s music or classic rock, and the people who liked contemporary music were into emo (it was 2003, I dunno man).

I had literally never heard “Stairway to Heaven” before (it’s still bad and boring, fight me). I actually didn’t know the words to “Bohemian Rhapsody” (Queen is great, but the movie is bad). And hip-hop was still played at parties, but people only really got excited when it was time for Bon Jovi. I know we were in New Jersey, but literally none of us were old enough to have listened to that music when it was released.

It struck me that so much of what we listen to starts with our parents’ tastes. Based on what we play at home, any children we may have will be really into reggae. But the point is just that music has a deep connection to culture and to race, and it was clear to me, and clearer now, that black music was only valuable when people wanted to find a hook-up partner. The most common thing I heard about hip-hop was that it “wasn’t music,” not even just that it was bad, but that it didn’t rise to the level of art at all. Think about that.

At Terrace, people actually valued hip-hop and other black music. But there was an ugly strain of self-righteousness involved, like the time I was told that a song I wanted to play was “white boy hip-hop.” No one could just listen to black music, see, they had to be experts on it. They all “knew” which Wu-Tang Clan member was the best lyricist, see. My classmates either eschewed black culture or became so immersed as to try to take ownership of it. Part of this was the nature of college kids being the worst (still true, always), but there’s more to it than that.

In Korea, my first year we all found a few bars for expats. There was one bar, Old Skool, which was popular with the American soldiers stationed there (the imperalism involved is a topic for another day, so stop). And that bar and its talented DJ (who I’m still Facebook friends with; hi Jeff) really got the party going with whatever hits were popular in 2008. But Old Skool was kinda gross, and the soldiers got in a lot of fights. Which means that, yes, the one bar that actually had a lot of black people was considered the most dangerous one. So we eventually hung out at other places, and mostly listened to upbeat dance-rock (like TV on the Radio and Metric, which I still enjoy).

Since 2010 or so, I haven’t felt pressure to justify my musical choices or seen what I enjoy as less valuable, mostly because I started having my own parties. And a lot of this story here is just an extension of being a racially and culturally isolated person throughout my adolescence. But I wish I had the insight I have now, where I could have seen their dismissal as part of white supremacy and racial erasure. They know they can’t really have a good party without playing black music. This has been true for decades now. Their parents probably told them what to think about it and like all of us, they listened and learned. I hope only that the very accomplished people who told me that hip-hop didn’t require talent have grown up and grown out of these views.

But probably not.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality

An Extra Ordinary Education

I have truly had an extraordinary education, but one that was, in many ways, ordinary.

It took me decades of schooling and other learning to recognize the true impact of white supremacy on my education, my psyche, and my life. I always knew that it existed, but so many of the confusing and upsetting things that I experienced I always blamed on myself and what I saw as my own flaws. This doesn’t mean I have no flaws or that I didn’t make many mistakes, both academically and socially, but my particular experience, regardless of how exclusive my schools were, was just like any other black male’s experience, in that my race was inescapable.

I have a lot, lot, lot more to say about this, and I plan to get to work writing about it over the summer and see what I come up with.

But the fact is, there is no true protection from white supremacy, and certainly not in our elite educational institutions. My future research will all flow from what I have learned, and I hope I can help other racialized students thrive in ways I wasn’t always able to for reasons I only just now fully understand.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality

Smart Running

Ran a strong 10k today. 37:49, three seconds off my PR. Third on my team, continuing a strong performance among our runners, so that’s cool.

I was really consistent, and we didn’t have any large swings. Almost entirely even 5k splits.

Most importantly, I’m running with a much clearer head. I’m using my whole brain for the running and not for any anxious worries. It would be nice if this meant I was at my absolute fastest and not merely “running very well and doing well in other aspects of life,” but maybe I had to be a little off kilter to do what I was doing from mid-2015 to mid-2016. I dunno.

I’m happy with how I’m running these days. I need to work on my endurance for Brooklyn (these next two saturday long runs are going to be crucial), but my speed is strong. Winter wasn’t a wash, and heading into spring/summer running feeling good.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality

Deserve's Got Nothing To Do With It

Another quote as a title. Oh well.

Look. One of the most insidious parts of marginalization of all sorts is that it makes you believe the marginalization is the fault of the marginalized. Narrowing to my own focus, white supremacy and racism make you feel like you deserve to be subjugated. If you’re guilty by virtue of your group membership, then those in power never have to renegotiate their own gleeful or, at best, complicit behavior. You can see this in every argument, particularly in the common refrain that blacks are lazy and would have erased the racial disparities if they had just worked harder like those Asians do. And so on.

But that’s the societal level. Thinking about my individual history, I spent all of my young life telling myself that the things I now recognize as subtle forms of racial discrimination and white supremacy were not untoward or targeted because, the story in my head went, I deserved the treatment.

It was especially easy to tell myself these lies because it wasn’t exactly having nooses drawn on my locker or anything. I knew well enough that That Kind Of Racism was bad. My white friends knew it too, even the ones who, in retrospect, said some pretty jacked-up stuff (I’ll tell you the stories if you ask). And my dad told me to tell him if I thought I or the few other black students were being treated differently because of our race. I was singled out a fair amount - not gravely, not suspended or anything - but any time it happened, my brain told me it was just because I’d earned the punishment. I deserved it, after all.

Even now, I can’t say all this without feeling guilty complaining. As I said the other time, we had enough money to send me to such schools and put me in such environments. The times I was the only black person were themselves examples of privilege. Yeah, I was almost always the only black guy, but I was the only black guy on a summer exchange in Paris! If anything my life was a testament to what achievements black people could have in this day and age. I may have been the one black kid, but I was the black kid that got to do things most white people never would. Racism, the story goes, was not a factor because my circumstances meant I was immune.

So to come to the present day, having done some real work at uncovering and disentangling a lot of nonsense in my head, it’s clear to me that this is really just a deliberate lie perpetuated upon us by those who aren’t ready to let their power go. And unfortunately, lying to myself and accepting this lie really did damage to me, as it does to most of us, whether or not we want to come to terms with it.

And when I wasn’t aware of this, when I still thought every example of racism was my own fault if there wasn’t a slur or a confederate flag involved, I was a pretty angry person. I was easily irritated and emotionally volatile to the point where a friend in Korea had a tactic for distracting me until I could arrest what, in retrospect, was a flare of anxiety. (He gave me two actors and told me to connect them via shared movies.)

I wanted so much to be part of the group. I wasn’t stupid; I knew I stood out. But I wanted to be part of it. In every single situation I was in, I tried so hard to get included, I failed, then I ran in the other direction and was demonstrably “weird” so I could at least claim I had some agency. But it all left me feeling isolated and upset. And there was no way out of it without acknowledging the reality of how I felt, something that took me a very long time to figure out, with the help of lots and lots and lots of miles and races, and the compassion of supporters.

All of this is why I have finally come around to focusing my life’s work on this issue. Yes, it’s within the scope of English Language Teaching, but that’s what I know how to do, and it’s a place where more needs to be said. As I said last week, the only way out is through: I thought I could achieve my way to acceptance and, as I now know, protection from white supremacy, but the only way I can fully cauterize the wounds is to work on having some small impact in tearing the institution down.

I don’t think anyone deserves anything other than compassion. No one, not even the people who have done the very worst things, deserves cruelty. I certainly wasn’t kind to everyone when I was in the throes of all of these things, and I regret it every day. And I just have to sit with that.

Unfortunately, in order to sell the lies that built this country, we had to be told we deserved our inferior status, and a lot of us believed it. In a way, I never believed I was worse because of my skin, but I certainly thought that the situations I encountered were just the price I deserved to pay for the privileges I had. I had been spared the stereotypical black life, so I deserved every bit I got.

I don’t know if I’ll succeed in my work. I mean, we know white supremacy isn’t going away, but ELT could well continue to grow and change, and I could be a part of that. And I think the only way I’ll be at peace, fully and truly, is to face the happy lies I told myself and admit the racism that has always been hiding in the couch cushions of my memories.

It’s a shame, to have your past reframed in ways that make it less fun to remember. But this reckoning is the only way forward.

Onward, then.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality

The Only Way Out Is Through

I’ve known this for a while now, but I need to say it: twice as good will never be good enough.

It wasn’t told to me explicitly, but in so many ways it was implied that I was one of the good ones. You know, the black person where you didn’t have to think so much about their blackness. A soft racial pillow for your microaggressions.

I could tell stories all day, stories so numerous it seems silly to bother. The stories always seemed small to me because only three or four times have the Big Bad Slurs come out. Those stories are clearcut, right? “Wow, what a racist.” And despite the nonsense that has surged alongside #45, it’s still relatively rare to come across that nonsense in public.

I know I wasn’t treated as poorly as the black students from less economically privileged backgrounds, so it just seemed like sour grapes to speak up.

The theme was simple, and always unstated: you’re okay because you’re not like The Others. Whether it was a job, a friendship, a date, it was shown to me that I was, indeed, twice as good and deserved extra consideration.

But what does that actually do for a person, to be cloistered from reality in such a way? I’ve been thinking about that a lot over the past few years, how my “special” status was both a gift and a curse, and one that has always been rather unsettling.

I’ve known since college that there was no way for me to achieve my way out of racism. It took me another decade to fully accept it and only recently did I start to name it and verbalize it.

With all that said, though, I do think I’ve been given a gift. I’ve spent three decades ensconsced in very, very white spaces with people who saw me (and my immediate family) as better than other people of color. We can’t ever see what goes on when we’re not there, but people have been remarkably unguarded with me, so much so that I never realized how distasteful their statements and actions were.

The truth of the matter is that I speak Standard American English more than African American Vernacular English. I sound awkward when I try to slip deeply into AAVE and I stopped trying a while ago. I can dance a little but only in the way that makes groups of white people think I’m good at it.

I hereby turn towards the darkness that is the particularly type of patronizing, ostensibly liberal racism I’ve been soaked in with the understanding that there is no way out of it just by amassing accomplishments. It needs to be named and shamed and only once out in the open can it be defeated. There is a tightrope to walk when calling this stuff out, one I’m sure I’ve already fallen off here and there, but being “twice as good” only means that people are more surprised when injustice occurs, not that the injustice won’t actually happen in the first.

It seems unlikely I’ll ever end up in a situation where people wear my face on a shirt, which is certainly a comfort to me and my loved ones. I can get my foot into the rooms where some decisions are made. And I have enough privilege to speak up without expecting to lose my entire livelihood.

I wish I’d told off all the polite racists I’d once known. But, if I’m lucky, I’ve got half a century left to keep them honest, and I’m not wasting any more time.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality


I’m tired, man.

I knew, as a kid - we all know deep down - that things weren’t really fair for me. That it wasn’t right that, when I wasn’t with family, I was almost always the only black body present.

I knew the little jokes people made, the things my classmates said, the history teacher who was usually very kind except that one time, I knew it wasn’t okay. But I didn’t have the strength to be the only person speaking up.

My dad always told me to be vigilant in looking out for racism and white supremacy. I nodded but I never really did it. Everyone else said they weren’t racist so I believed them. Maybe because they saw me as one of the good ones, right? So when people said affirmative action was problematic but that it was okay for me because I was smart, what did it really imply? Or when I was told, however many times over, that my (very safe) neighborhood was too far for people to travel to, what did it really mean?

I started speaking up a little in college. But even then I was in denial. I didn’t join any of the many welcoming black groups because I was still determined to be accepted by “them.”

They’ll never really accept us, though, unless we smooth out every single rough edge, and even then they’ll still laugh at you for having different cultural markers.

But then there’s the other part, which is that we had some money. Not as much as my classmates, but my life wasn’t hardscrabble. We went on great trips. I got to ride an elephant in Zimbabwe. I went to study French in France. So what did racism matter?

To come to terms with the fact that white supremacy doesn’t care how much money you have is to just get so bone tired it’s hard to bother to care. It would be a lot easier to go back to how I used to be and pretend the thousand cuts weren’t making me bleed out.

Yet here I am, committed, once and for all, to focusing on race and racism and white supremacy within a subset of education, within a field (ELT) that I stumbled into and came to love.

I remember, in Korea, how quickly any points I tried to make to fellow Americans about racism were shouted down. I remember how my well-meaning Korean colleagues othered me unintentionally, and how I just swallowed it because there wasn’t really anyone to tell. Eventually I got pissed off, and burned all my social bridges in Korea so I wouldn’t be tempted to come back like many of my friends had. I still sometimes say I’d rather be there than in certain parts of the South, but that’s not really true, because at least American racism is shared.

I can’t count how many times I’ve meekly tried to speak up about something that made me uncomfortable racially and been told, indirectly, to keep quiet. Only when a slur is involved do people suddenly become performatively woke.

And because my parents made money, it’s a unique challenge to get taken seriously as someone with personal experiences with racism and white supremacy. My life wasn’t as hard as it could have been - true - and so this is just another reason to keep my mouth shut.

I’m tired, man. I had a lot more energy when I paid less attention to the negative impact my skin color has had on my life thus far.

Sometimes I just want to go to sleep.

But I won’t.

My voice is creaky and unstable, but it’s growing in power.

I doubt myself much of the time, but I’m putting myself and my words out there.

In the work I plan and hope to do, a lot of people are going to be In Their Feelings all the time, and it’s not fun for me when that happens. I regret opening my mouth when people try to silence me. It’s really unsettling to be talked down to.

Yet their responses are about them. And if someone’s emotional about something I’m trying to say about white supremacy, then they have work to do, not me.

I can’t give up if everyone else hasn’t. My fight is only just beginning, and my parents and their parents and their parents before them didn’t live through what they lived through just for me to keep my mouth shut.

I’m going to keep writing, and thinking, and talking. I just hope people are willing to listen.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality

Neptune Notes 3/16/19

I haven’t written one of these in a while.

  1. He’s really big now. I never realized how much growing dogs do before they’re a year old. Humans, we develop so damn slowly, man.

  2. He’s learning really fast. Yeah, still an occasional accident or overnight wakeup but for his age (5 months), he’s learning a lot.

  3. There’s another puppy in our building that’s basically the same age, and that dog is what would happen if we weren’t planning as much. We are probably overdoing it to raise this dog right, but it’s so easy to end up with a poorly trained dog.

  4. I was always a little uncomfortable with dogs. I wasn’t scared exactly, but I wasn’t comfortable. And I realize it’s because I always knew poorly trained dogs. I imagine I’d feel the same way about children if I only knew poorly behaved ones, because I really like well-behaved kids and I struggle with others.

  5. He has basically dominated our lives for three months. I want to get to where he’s just a loyal friend and not, like, kind of a whiny baby, but I know once this time ends we’ll miss it. He’s a really warm and sweet boy, he just can’t self-regulate yet. He’ll get there soon. And then hopefully we’ll have years of joy.

  6. I can’t wait until it’s warm every day and we can spend the whole day outside (when he’s not sleeping). Aside from running, I sometimes don’t sit outside on nice days and I feel like the days are wasted (again, aside from running). But that time is over.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality

More To Say

This morning’s college admissions scandal has hit me in a way I really didn’t expect it to.

I have some scattered thoughts because that’s how I think.

  1. To be clear, it’s weird that the story focuses on the two female actresses and not their spouses. Macy is more famous than the other two. So, yes, let’s acknowledge that.

  2. I was indifferent towards Loughlin and actually really liked Macy and Huffman. They can all go to hell.

  3. It’s really hard for me to say this next part without coming off like a jerk, but, Huffman and Macy spent tons of money and time faking qualifications for their daughter’s Yale acceptance, and the fake version of their daughter still didn’t do as well on her SATs as I did. I mean. I mean.

  4. Re: the last point, education is not about competition, or it shouldn’t be. But admissions? Admissions definitely is. So that’s the only reason I’m bothering to compare. I don’t think doing better or worse on a flawed metric means you’re more or less valuable.

  5. So here’s my real point. My parents (and teachers, and advisors, and everyone) expected Great Things from me. I was special, I was told, and gifted. But I was sort of a listless student until about 9th grade, when I became very diligent. I was fortunate not to be impoverished in any way or physically unwell (and I’m still male). But admission to top schools is guaranteed to no one, and you can’t really be a listless student and expect entry. I didn’t do as well as people expected of me on AP exams, but I did well on various subject SATs, the SATs themselves, and I was a strong writer. Still though, I was told (and rightfully so) by educators to complete my Eagle Scout project, to talk up my experience abroad, all sorts of things (since I wasn’t an athlete) to have a better shot. I didn’t really do much of that and I applied early. And I got in.

  6. I figured from that moment I’d gotten lucky but earned it, but almost as soon as I got to school I felt like I didn’t belong. Everyone else, it seemed, could do just about anything they wanted to and I didn’t feel like I had any real skills. I was never directly told as much, but I got the impression some of my classmates really thought I was accepted through some trickery, and I came to believe it myself, especially as I initially struggled academically and emotionally. Yeah, everyone who cared about me told me otherwise, but it’s pretty difficult to get out of a mindset that surrounds you most days, and that’s how I felt.

  7. Unfortunately, my belief about my own skills persisted for more than a decade, really until last fall when I did well my first semester in my doctoral program. Even now, when I do a new task for the first time, my first thought is that I’ll be found out as some sort of intellectual fraud and tossed back into the ether. I know how to ignore those thoughts now, but they still occur.

  8. I say all this to say, what did these students think? Did they feel they belonged where they were? Did they ever feel excluded? Maybe they did. But I can tell you, at least to my parents, the only way in was to actually earn it, and, though it took me way too long to understand it, I really did earn it way back in 2002.

  9. This plan that these parents and students had, it was so elaborate and complex. And at no point did it seem like they ought to just apply to different schools or figure out what it would take to improve their qualifications. They even laundered the “donations” to be tax-deductible.

  10. I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I’m just peeved that I always thought I hadn’t belonged when I really did, while apparently so many people who shouldn’t have been there were. I wasn’t ever less qualified than they were, and I wish I hadn’t spent so long believing that this was the case.


Justin Gerald

Age: 28 Hometown: NYC Location: NYC Career: Education Undergrad: Princeton Grad: New School Likes: Cooking, Baseball, Socializing, Parks, Pop Culture, Feminism Loves: Traveling, Running, Lifting, Trivia, Teaching, Equality