The car glides smoothly down the flat Indiana highway as my restless body falls into a state of idleness. I sit still as a statue gazing on into a vacant plain of farmland. Every few moments we pass expansive corn fields with Amish residences sprouted throughout the distant horizon, and mini malls that flaunt their surplus of back to school sales and “Buy one Get one 50% off” bargains. I see the highway exit for my boarding school quickly approaching and realize I am moving into another world, a conflicting world, where basic necessity and tradition meet the contemporary demands of the technological world. I feel my anxiety grow every second as I venture closer to my destination. Weary and uncertain of my fate, I hear the ironical ballets pulsating from the rear speakers only adding to the current scrutiny of the situation. The rhythmic lyrics of my father’s favorite songs pass through his lips as he sings along with the artists of his day. I recall past excursions from my childhood that played out in a similar manner and the excitement I felt venturing pass new and unexplored country towns like Hebron and Zionsville. Now as the Temptations fade and Aretha commences to lead my father in R.E.S.P.E.C.T. I feel no excitement because a new chapter of my life is about to be written, but my pen is almost out of ink. This will be my first time away from home, on my own, away for months at a time, with no one to depend upon.

‘Muncie 5B next three exits on right’ blurs by the peripheral of my eye as I wonder what’s next for me. I begin to gaze at the headrest of my father’s 97’ Seville, coping with the conclusion that the time has come and pass for me to change my mind. I was headed to boarding school not for disciplinary reasons but to ensure a successful academic future. Now I contemplate the many the hours I would lay awake at night “what if-ing?” my decision. I fear I will be losing more than my home; I will be losing my friends, my car, my social independence, my identity as well!

‘Muncie 5B next two exits on right’ is there and gone with stellar swiftness. My stomach tightens at the thought of the new and unfamiliar individuals I will encounter at the end of this journey. I will be entering into a situation where I will be different, a minority from a racial standpoint, where in many scenarios I would be the only Black person in my class. I only know that I cannot let this intimidation hinder me.

As the ‘Muncie 5B next exit on right’ sign becomes visible, my mind begins to correlate the passing of this road marker with me taking the next big step of my life. I no longer will have the same adolescent privileges I once enjoyed. I was no longer my mother’s baby or my father’s young namesake. I am a man whether I want to be or not I tell myself as I lay my head against the unusually cool window. Its abnormal temperature must be attributed to the sporadic gusts of the car’s air conditioner. I find myself placed in a self-induced trance, playing out a million different scenarios of what is to come of me at this Indiana Academy. Will I have friends? Will I be successful in my academic pursuits? Would I find success socially for that matter? Will I be me? Where will I get a haircut? How will I make it through these next two years? What if the food is terrible? I think I want to go home? Will this be as difficult as they say?

‘Muncie 5B Exit’ appears in bold white letters above the Seville’s silvery green factory paint job, with smudges of road kill lingering as evidence of our travels. I gaze into the thousand possibly different outcomes of my life. I feel only the angst of the unknown.

Unremittingly we ride to my new academic home; I stared around the car at the penny filled ashtray, the dusty dashboard, my sleeping mother and younger brother, and my relentlessly focused father concentrating on the barren highway. I had an epiphany; self reliance is bitter-sweet. On one hand, I looked forward to my independence almost able to taste the new adventures I am destine to meet. I could be placing myself in a teenage utopia where school will be easier than home and the people more open and friendly. Every night in this utopia something new intrigues me. I will make huge number of friends. Maybe even the girls will realize the unexposed boyfriend potential I carry that was untapped at home. Yes, this fantasy was most desirable. On the other hand, utopias have never quite been a feasible concept. I cringe at the thought that my life will be submerged in hours of discouraging mental labor with people of intellects much higher than my own. I probably will not be the smartest person in any of my classes. Moreover my classes will be facilitated by teachers who will be unforgiving to this Black kid from the ‘region.’ I still carry the inherent fear which all hatchlings feel before spreading their wings and plunging into the world. Such sentiments left me confounded, but alas I have gone too far to turn around, and quite frankly what I am leaving behind I can never have again. My only option, as I see it now, is to embrace the insecurities, the fear, the excitement, and the upcoming Manhattans hit, Kiss and Say Goodbye, which ironically echo off the soft leather seats to my ears of a young black man coming into his own. I must turn the pages of the book of life to the sixteenth year of my life as I enter adulthood.

Jordan Smith

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