Senior Wisdom: Felicia Bishop
Written by Bwog Staff
Claim to Fame? hmmm.. perhaps the most epic walk of shame? I was forced to run through hordes of graduating students descending on college walk for Commencement last year, smelling like the Heights manufactured a fucking fragrance to eternalize the nights we just might forget if we’re lucky. Even better, I didn’t wake up the person I was with for the ceremony and to this day am not entirely sure if they made it…
Certainly co-authoring and directing the AMAZING production Frieze.
Drunkenly crying about capitalism in the middle of West Side and then being asked not to spit on the cashier that I was talking to.
Where are you going? I am deferring my placement in the Mississippi Delta with TFA for a bonding session with myself. Basically, I’m trying to be James Baldwin for a year but my writing will be shitty and my lust life endlessly awkward instead of seriously profound.
Three things you learned at Columbia:
- To accept the fact that people don’t and won’t like me. When I first got here, finding out someone disliked me was just like that moment right before you realize the wind has been knocked out of you and that you’ll actually live. That kind of hollow paralysis crippled me for so long, and was only relieved when I figured out how to be the Felicia people needed/wanted/expected me to be. With time, a lot of gossip, the best frienderventions, and the oh so lovely bwog and spec comments section, I stopped morphing. I stopped changing. I stopped pretending to be happy and satisfied and fulfilled. I realized that people didn’t have to like me and that’s absolutely okay. I also realized that I should take heed to recurring and consistent feedback (I promise I’m trying)
- Nnaemeka Ekwelum is my soul mate. He’s someone I can sit in a room with, in absolute silence, and feel loved and important and respected. Every day I wake up knowing that there is someone I am in love with, in the most platonic way possible, and that is so amazing.
- That organizations here can change your life. The Black Students’ Organization gave me purpose, resolve, love, laughter, and family.
“Back in my day…” going to Ferris Booth was only for people who flexed on flex.
Justify your existence in 30 words or less: My laugher. My hand gestures. My hair flip (even when I’m living the short hair don’t care life style). An undying desire for justice.
Is the War on Fun over? Who won? Any war stories? The War on Fun is so fucking real. For those leaders in the struggle that get consistently written up, here is my thanks. War Story? Perhaps the night that I opened the door at three different parties for the same RA to shut them all down.
Would you rather give up oral sex or cheese? I would be really really really sad without cheese. I would be really really really mean without oral sex. I rather be sad than mean.
Advice for 2016: College is incredible. It is dark and lonely and tiring. It is freeing and beautiful. Embrace both ends of this spectrum. Feel the darkness. Sit in the beauty and the uniqueness and own it. Do not strive to be understood–strive to be respected and trusted. Future members of the Black Students’ Organization–work towards justice in everything that you do. Love your legacy. Support each other. Create! Create! Create! Creation is literally one of the most empowering human pursuits. Say you’re an artist even when you aren’t and figure out how to make it true. Also, a lot of what you do will not be appreciated: dealing with that can either make to bitter or unbelievable strong.
Regrets? Hurting people intentionally.