As told to Jeannette Cooperman
Photograph by Mark Gilliland
Cherelle Washington is the kind of person people call “serious”: quiet and careful, a bit of a worrier, valedictorian of her class at the Clyde C. Miller Academy. Her dream was to go to the University of Missouri–Columbia, and she’s just finishing her freshman year there. Shy and innocent, yet with plenty of edge, Washington is appalled by stupidity, determined to overcome her tentativeness, willing to brave a complicated world, eager to connect.
I really hadn’t gone on a date until last week. It wasn’t bad, but I fell asleep on him. I was so tired.
I was really, really close to my dad. I was 13 when he died, and I haven’t cried since. I don’t think I’m over it.
Before I went to Camp Coca-Cola, I wasn’t open to things. I was super-super-shy, scared of approaching people. But we did public-speaking classes, and I learned to smile.
They say a smile hides a lot of your nervousness.
My twin sister’s more aggressive than I am. She says whatever she wants to say. I hold in a lot of things.
People think my mom’s strict because we are so good, but she compromises a lot with us. She’s always open to our opinion.
My mom trusts us—so I’m scared I’m going to disappoint her.
In East St. Louis, they called me and my sister the white kids. Then we moved to St. Louis, and my middle school had Bosnians and Arabs, and I learned to be open. If I’d stayed in East St. Louis, the world would have been black and white.
In a lot of my classes at Mizzou, I’m the only black person. They will say, “You speak really well,” and I know they mean “for a black person.”
My sister and I room together; we are the only black people on our dorm floor. They say, “Teach me to be ghetto.” I say, “You chose the wrong black girl!”
I’m not a really confident person. My family gives me a lot of my confidence.
If no one’s rooting for you, it makes it that much harder to succeed.
People go to work and work hard to impress people they don’t even know—but don’t care what their own family thinks about them.
I hope I’ll be successful, but I fear that I won’t be able to handle it. I stress out about little stuff a lot.
As a little girl, I wanted to be an English teacher—but you need patience. I think I lost my patience.
If I did high school over, I’d at least try a sport. But I get hurt in everything I do! Break my thumb, fracture my wrist …
I’m not sure I’ll join a sorority. It’s like a cult. They are so serious.
I didn’t know people my age did some of the stuff they do now. Am I slow or something?
All the drinking! I had no idea. I looked at movies and thought, “Oh, it’s not going to be like that; they exaggerate everything”—but oh my God.
My quote on MySpace is “It’s OK to believe in things you know aren’t real.”
I believe in God, but I don’t go to church. I don’t think you have to.
I don’t know if I think the right things about God or not. I guess I’ll have to wait to find out.
What I fear? Having nobody. I think I’d go crazy if I was by myself.
I keep my cellphone by my bed. Gotta communicate.
People are so secluded. I always want to know what is going on at all times.
