FACES OF BLACK PENN FACES OF BLACK PENN
Roots&Reflections Roots&Reflections
FALL 2024 FALL 2024
Table of Contents
Letter from the Editors
Meet the Team
Alumni Spotlight
Wallahi This Bacon Delicious: On Philly Muslims
Khalid Mohieldan
Opinion
Open Letter to the Black Penn Community
Anonymous
Campus Life
Alumni Spotlight | A Homecoming: An Interview With Ashley Codner ‘21
Chiney Anwunah
Arts & Culture
Unlearning the ‘Strong Black Woman Myth’ ~
Sincerely a strong black woman who’s still learning :)
Noella Idem
Meet The Tea
Editors in Chief
Adeoluwa Fatukasi - Channing-Jaye Scott
Layout Editors
Jourdan Wright - Kara Butler
Copy Editors
Chiney Anwunah - Traci McEachern - Yared Zegeye
Section Editors
Blossom Izevbigie - Mariama Njie - Naima Small
Writers
Chiney Anwunah - Faith Dempsey - Clarke Dickens
Khalid Mohieldan - Blossom Izevbigie - Noella Idem
Aleyah Lewis - Mariama Njie - Naima Small
Photographers
Kya Nelson - Lauren Watts - Manny Boateng
Social Media Lead
Tricia Tchamabo
Marketing Lead
Zainab Adeoye
Finance Coordinator Quincy Rhoades
Events Coordinator Aisha Ali
LLETTE ETTE FFROM ROM TTHE HE EEDITORS DITORS
On June 29th, 2023, the Supreme Court overturned affirmative action in college admissions a decision that sent shockwaves through higher education, particularly for the Black community at Penn. For many, this moment felt like a direct challenge to the progress we ’ ve fought for, a reminder of the precariousness of equity in spaces never built with us in mind. Yet, as many reflected on this decision, as editors, we thought about spaces created to help sustain Black culture and community and celebrate our worth. For Penn, one space that embodies all these qualities and more is Makuu: The Black Cultural Center.
Makuu, the Swahili word for “home,” encapsulates the meaning of the Black community at Penn having a sanctuary to find comfort within. Founded in 2000, Makuu stands as more than just a physical space on campus; Makuu signifies that we do belong
o matter what the legal atmosphere is in the ountry. It is a testament to the spirit of tentional community building. The creation home.
This mini issue serves as a sneak peek into the uch larger celebration of Makuu’s legacy, owcasing its profound impact on students’ ves on our lives. In this issue, you will hear ow students became rooted in the Black ommunity, reflect on transformative lationships, and look to the future and what e next 25 years will accomplish.
We hope you enjoy a preview of this issue, Roots and Reflections: Celebrating 25 Years of Makuu.
To the Makuu Family, cheers to 25 years! To the Black Penn community, the beacon of possibilities has just begun.
Yours Truly, Adeoluwa Fatukasi and Channing-Jaye Scott
Editors-In-Chief
Wallahi This Bacon Delicious: On Philly Muslims
Khalid Moheildin
As a proud Sudani, it’s hard for me to not talk about Sudan for too long without sounding like a disciple of the Nation of Islam. “It was us, man. Not the Egyptians, not the Ethiopians. WE was the original people!” I’m actually quite thankful, in some ways, that Sudan is often overshadowed by the powerhouses of North and East Africa because that irrelevancy has shielded us from becoming the sovereign hotep nation. I pray the self-proclaimed Nubian Kings and Queens don’t start adopting the entire Sudanese nation as their namesake Though Nubia, the northern region of Sudan home to one of the earliest African civilizations, has occupied a central role in the Nation’s narrative history, the religious organization has only taken interest in the surrounding country on rare occasions. Before converting to Sunni Islam, Louis Farrakhan, the incumbent leader of the Nation of Islam, is said to have been intimidated by Sudan and the broader coalition of Black African Muslims. While he certainly sympathized with their struggle, the Nation’s Islamic legitimacy relied on the pockets and influence of Arab (i.e., white) Muslims.
Perhaps that explains why, prior to my first year at Penn, I was warned about Philly and the swaths of “fake Muslims” – those grifters from the Nation pretending to preach and practice Islam. The Nation of Islam has generally been rejected by mainstream Muslims for centering race as a foundational component of “their” religion. I’d like to make clear that I’m not making any endorsement or comment, really, on the Nation of Islam. I’ve ignored way too many niggas trying to hand me pamphlets on the street corner to do that. But what became clear to me once I actually stepped foot in Philly, as a “ proper ” Black Muslim, was this hypocrisy of color-blindness among the “ proper, ” “real” Muslims. Disdain towards the Nation of Islam from mainstream Muslims is rooted in the organization’s foundational racial politic. However, as the organization’s influence and relevancy has waned, the so-called “Philly Muslim,” has taken its place. And disdain towards the Philly Muslim is,
too, rooted in race, but instead of a racial politic, it’s a racial character. Nation or no nation, Black Islam is a mutation of the religion Philly has the third-highest concentration of Muslims of any American city, behind New York and Houston, though the city’s colored by its own unique flavor of Islam.
Unlike New York, Houston, and most other major American cities, Philadelphia’s Muslim residents are predominantly African-American Though most early African-American Muslims in Philadelphia were prosthelytized through the Nation, since the late 1970s, the vast majority of African-American Muslims in the city have converted to and since practice Orthodox Sunni Islam, a.k.a, “mainstream” Islam.
I’d imagine that American Muslims, forced to never be too Muslim in public, would see Philadelphia as a miracle of sorts. Men, women, and children casually walking around in hijabs, ibayas, kufis, and jalabiyas Neighborhood-wide markets selling exclusively prayer mats and Qurans. And a population of born-and-raised Americans adopting the religion. The city did not need some foreign transplant of Muslims to spread the religion. And yet, Philly’s reputation is pretty much the opposite. It’s a playground for people to pick and choose when and how they want to be Muslim. Bacon-greased fingers adjusting the jalabiya for the fit pic. The drug dealer ditching his Nike tech for non-prescription glasses and a kufi right before court The hijabis rolling a joint on the train station. A city of part-time Muslims. Islamic casual chaos.
Much of this is simply a discussion (or really, a decision) on who is allowed to be casual in their faith. The public infusion of Islam into Philly means that Muslims in the city, living their lives like everybody else, do so under a unique religious scrutiny. The day-to-day contradictions one makes
in their faith are amplified when done in religious garb.
The singling out of Philly Muslims, who seem geographically removed from this apparently “truer” Islam, is informative.
It’s not hard to see the parallels between Philly Muslim discourse and the treatment of Black African Islam. Black Africans who adopted the religion, but refused to abandon their music, dance, attire, and broader traditions were labeled grifters and infidels all the same. West African Islam, for example, which is, perhaps, just as important to the growth and reconciliation of early Islam as the Gulf, is often derided by the cartel of Muslim ideologues in the white Arab world as a parody of the religion. Legions of East African Muslims – including, among them, far too many Sudanis – have sought to clarify that they are, in fact Arab, as just being Muslim is clearly not enough. Sudanis who yearn to be Egyptian, Somalis who pretend to be Yemeni, all so that their neighbor might be convinced that they can read the book just as well as they do.
When confronted with the question of race, many Muslims point to a “ oneness ” in the religion Allah made us all the same. That’s why the Nation has been rejected by mainstream Islam, for grossly codifying race into the religion’s parameters. But for a religion that is deeply concerned with growth, justice, and liberation (and was, itself, born out of these ideas), it’s troubling how so much modern Muslim discourse is centered around a neglect (and, in fact, an active disregard) for the growth of a contextualized Islam.
I fear that by embracing this “ oneness ” but actively disregarding the various contexts of Islam, many Muslims have legitimized and adopted themselves into the very same caricature of Islam touted by the exceptionalists, imbued with its same racism, misogyny, and conformity. I don’t know, maybe some casual chaos is necessary.
Unlearning the ‘Strong Black Woman Myth’
~ Sincerely a strong black woman who’s still learning :)
Noella Idem
Strong Black Woman
At first glance, these words evoke empowerment, right? As a badge of resilience, this label rooted in self-sufficiency resonated deeply, standing out as the ultimate compliment In reality, however, this designation can become a prison for our sisters, mothers, and ourselves. What is designed to “ empower ” instead strips us of the ability to embrace vulnerability with open arms the way Ms. Cheryl from University Copy Service in Houston Hall does every time she sees me ushering me with the utmost confidence to overcome any daily challenge.
I’ve always wondered who decided this title needed to be projected on us–it may be, a world that feared our softness, or perhaps our own grasp at personal worth in a place that often refuses to grant us any regard. It wasn’t until I sat in Dr. Herman Beavers’ class this semester that I began to truly reflect on the false reality I constructed for myself In my own hibernation, I became embedded in becoming the very embodiment of that phrase, and delusionally, I took it on as armor without even knowing how to wear it–I mean who really does?
Becoming so strong bears the greatest of costs: the treatment of gentleness, with ourselves, and with each other. We speak of myths as legendary stories centered on heroes, but this myth the tale of the strong black woman is far from it. Instead, this narrative confines us, denying the luxury of sisterhood, companionship, and tenderness. Strength should not negate emotion; in fact, in my wake–I found true strength emerging through the act of embracing our whole selves.
It really is that easy. Just the knock of three letters, an addition of one, reconstructs the same syllables spearheaded by that strong “S”, yet now redefined.
As I reflect on redefining Black womanhood, I recognize the spaces that have prompted this shift and made me feel safe in this new interpretation of my identity. Makuu’s quarter-century legacy, while a great celebration of its longevity, is in fact a testament to its unwavering roots in community, and support for Black students since its founding. Embodied in this same legacy is the journey of unlearning and reflecting on the myth of what our foundational identities mean. Makuu champions its own definition of strength, implementing a space to be vulnerable, seek help, and care for one another unapologetically. A legacy, honoring the resilience of the past, also creates a future for Black womanhood in which both can coexist
So, please, do me a favor. Rest–for a little while, cry, laugh, but most importantly do not fall into the trap. Good things take time. Just as the custom paintings thoughtfully curated throughout Makuu reflect diasporic roots, growing into a sanctuary for us all, every act of self-care is one step closer to the softness you truly deserve.
The soft life, as they say, is in fact the good life–I didn’t make the rules. Noella Idem
Soft Black Woman
Alumni Spotlight | A Homecoming: An Interview With Ashley Codner ‘21
CHINEY ANWUNAH: How did you feel going into your first year working here? And how has it been so far?
ASHLEY CODNER: I am passionate about higher ed and student affairs and just being involved in university spaces. So I was really excited for the role. So I was nervous and excited to come back because I worried that I just have been perceived as a student, especially since I graduated so soon, so recently –it feels recently to me– and I think I was just apprehensive about having to step back into my undergrad self after having gone on into adulthood. But it ended up being really cool to be back. I think it's cool to be able to leverage the experience that I had here, with the ways that I support students, but also leverage the experience that I've gained after being here to support them And, you know, having a sort of full perspective of pre-Penn, being in Penn, and post-Penn, and it's also been really cool, I think, to see how it's changed, to see the ways that like my experiences mirror or differ from other students, and now I can kind of use those when I talk to them and relate to them. So it's ended up being, I think, a lot more seamless than I thought it would be. So I like it.
ANWUNAH: So what aspects of Makuu particularly led you to– you kind of touched on this– but led you to come back?
CODNER: Yeah, in my– I think one of the questions I had asked Brian in my interview with him when I was applying for my job was where he imagined Makuu would be in the next, I think I said five or 10 years. And he said that he wanted to make this the best Black Cultural Center in the nation And there was no like, right or wrong way answer to the question that I'd asked, but I thought that was a really exciting answer, a really exciting vision to be a part of, and, like, a really exciting standard to hold myself to. Like, how can I be the best at inspiring Black students and then thinking really critically about what that looks like. I think I was really excited to work with Brian and Michelle because both of them are really intentional about the ways that they support students, and being someone who is just starting out in student affairs, I think that's a great model for like, how to do this kind of work, particularly in a space that isn't designed for me to work here, for me to have gone to school here So I think they're really great about sort of navigating a space like Penn and being able to kind of empower students within it. Yeah, I think I was really excited about that.
ANWUNAH: I was gonna ask this later, but since you kind of touch on it, what are your hopes for Makuu in like, the next five to 10 years?
CODNER: I had heard that Makuu was a– kind of like a center or like a central space on campus, meaning that we, you know, connect. We are a part of Black student lives outside of academics, but we're also a part of their academic lives and their academic success. We're a part of how they navigate, you know, being alumni at Penn. We're a part of figuring out how to support them before Penn. So I think one vision that I have is just making that, all those connectors a lot more seamless. So how can we kind of standardize the ways that we support Black students at, like, all levels and moments in their Penn careers,
and thinking really broadly about what a Penn career is. It's not just when they're on campus, but it's also when they leave campus in the summer. And, you know, when they leave to, I don't know, go to Center City, and when they leave, you know, five to 10 years afterward. So really figuring out how this space can be a space that they feel like they can come to at all points, in all moments. And then also, I would say, just like making Black students happy, which is something that I know we currently do, but, or maybe, and the world continues to be a scary or difficult place for Black people, and so I think it's always changing, like the ways that we're unsupported, or, you know, underrepresented, or all those things. So I think that there's always an opportunity to kind of redefine what joy looks like for us and how we sort of– how we provide that for students And so I think, yeah, that's another opportunity as well Like, Are there ways that we can make our Black students happier, support them better? You know, center joy more.
ANWUNAH: On the same note. Was there someone when you were going here that was kind of in a similar role, a guiding role for you, and how do you find yourself sitting into that now?
CODNER: Okay, so one pivotal person for me was Margot Natalie Crawford, and she's in the English Department I think she's actually the director now, but when I got here, she was somewhat new, or maybe was new, and she saw something in me. I think I took her class, maybe like freshman year, maybe a sophomore year, but she saw something in me as a writer and she was like, You should join the Mellon Undergraduate Fellowship Program, which is like a which is a pre-doctoral fellowship program for underrepresented students of color interested in PhDs and humanities, and so after having sort of connected me with Mellon, like I did Mellon, but also she had been an academic and sort of like a life mentor for me afterward, just always a person I could talk to about, like, what stresses I had with my life trajectory, which is, of course, like normal to experience in college, but she was really affirming. And so I think, well, one just her, like, pointing me to the right people, because there are so many resources at Penn, but if you don't know, if you don't ask, and if you don't know that it's available, you'll just never experience them. And so I think her, like knowing resources that were available, and, you know, connecting to them was really helpful, just the sort of tangible support that she provided in that moment But also, I think it was really empowering to be seen by a professor who I thought was really cool. So that was like a confidence boost. And I think, yeah, I would imagine that that's a goal here as well, is just empowering students to be their best selves. And so I think she really did that. And yeah, just generally, I think seeing, having a Black woman, like, in a position that I, maybe wanted to be in, in that moment, and like killing it there, I think was really important to see. And so I appreciate that representation a lot, and her letting me know that, like, I can be just as successful, you know. And here are the ways to do it, you know. It's not just listening to her. And so I think she came into my life at the right time. It was really cool.
ANWUNAH: So do you find yourself kind of right now in that similar position, or are you still growing into it in some aspects?
CODNER: I think I'm still growing into it, but I think there are ways that I do it now. I've always been involved in mentorship, like even on campus. I did Big Brothers, Big Sisters, and I did CitySTEP, and I did a lot of mentoring through my sorority because I crossed Gamma Epsilon and so I think, yeah, so mentoring has always been something that's central to the work that I do, whether it's like receiving or also giving mentorship And so I think even if I feel hesitant to say that, like I can be Margot Natalie Crawford for somebody, I can at the very least be a mentor for them. And I think that's where I'm at right now, and I definitely feel like I'm doing that, which is really affirming. It feels nice. It's nice to be needed or feel like you're impacting people's lives positively.
ANWUNAH: So what are ways you remember, in which, when you were here Makuu impacted you and really felt like home, or any particular instance?
CODNER: I think knowing, honestly, its presence on campus is really important, which is to say that, like because of everything I did, like, I wasn't the person who was here every day, like in the living room, just because I worked elsewhere at work. But I was the person to take advantage of all the resources that I had, that they had, that they offered, and to go to all the events, all the opportunities for free food But like, also just taking advantage of the fact that, like, there was a space for me on campus. And so I think regardless of like, whether or not students are here all the time, I think it's important that there is a black space on campus because it makes you like move differently throughout the rest of campus to know that there is at least one place that is for you, I think, because then you can start to see like the whole campus is for you Because it kind of, yeah, you can kind of start to see the whole campus is for you. And so I think its resources were really imperative for my broke and, you know, lonely college self, just having that community was really important. And then also just like knowing that it was there in this place, that knowing that this black place was there in a place that might often, outside of this, feel like a very white space.
ANWUNAH: Yeah, I definitely resonate with that. So do you think your perspective on that has changed now that you're working here?
CODNER: No, actually, I think it's been affirmed more even if we look at the trends that DEI, the directions that DEI is going in. Now, I don't know if you know Makuu will ever be larger than this space in the ARCH, but I do know, and I do see and feel and experience, and did experience, its impact beyond this one space in the ARCH, and so I think I feel really excited by it. So, you know, even sort of despite the attacks against like DEI and any kind of programming and support for underrepresented students, I feel excited by the knowledge that even if we're small, we are really, we really are mighty. It's not corny over here, and we're reaching people beyond you know, our four walls, and so I think it feels even more true.
ANWUNAH: You mentioned something about this earlier, but what are the ways you think that Makuu has changed?
CODNER: I think, and, well, this is contingent on my perspective as a student, so which is to say maybe someone else might not agree, but it feels, really, I don't know, diverse? like there are so many different kinds of students that congregate in the living room, and they're all– I don't know if they all, like, have classes together, or if they are all in the same clubs, but they really do feel like there's just a bunch of different kinds of people in that room, and it's not just like one representation of like Black Penn or like blackness or a Black student. And so that feels different to me, just the ways that we've been able to get different kinds of black students here.
I think we're definitely, I'd say, we're doing even more than we were when I was on campus, which is, I don’t think, you know, wasn't enough when I was here. I think it's just natural that, like, as the years progressed, you do more, you get better. And so I think we're definitely doing more. We’re a lot more, like, intentional, or maybe that's just because I'm on the other side. But yeah, it feels like we're doing more…yeah, those two.
ANWUNAH: So you talked about how there were like, Now there are different types of students, like, more diversity within the black population here. And was that like a learning experience for you? Like, did that change how you approached doing your job here?
CODNER: Um, not really. I think it was cool though. I don't know if I came– because that would have required me to come with expectations– I don’t think I really came with expectations of what a Black Penn would be like But, yeah, it's definitely cool because, I now never know what conversations are happening in the living room, or yeah, but I think, like, maybe after also having worked elsewhere, or worked in student affairs, before with students, I think I am accustomed to working with different kinds of people, with different kinds of students, just after having, like, lived life. And so I think I just approach it like that, like every student really is super individual, like, as, you know, everyone is with individual needs and stresses and all that evenly, sort of on top of the, like, common college ones, which is even, isn't to say that their responses to those common ones will be the same. So I think the lens is like being super broad in our reach, but also like being as individualized as we can in the ways that we support students, like making them feel like they really are seen, you know, and valued and understood, in all of that.
ANWUNAH: That's very wise. Okay, were there any, well, this might apply now because you mentioned about the DEI attacks that are happening, were there any challenges that you saw Makuu face in college, as an undergrad, or any that you see now?
CODNER: I think, well, I don't know what challenges they faced administratively on the other side, but I think Black Penn faced a lot, certainly during COVID and dealing with the summer and season of George Floyd's murder and also having to deal with that, virtually. And so actually, I could imagine it being like a sort of big conversation and a lot of stress just how to support students and how to make them feel seen, how to create this, like, alt community during COVID, and also in the face of, some really sort of dark and
difficult moments for Black people. So, like, how do they support students when they can't, like, reach them in a living room and they need to schedule a Zoom call? So I imagine that being really difficult. And then in terms of now, honestly, I feel really lucky to be here. Yes, DEI is, like, under attack, but also Makuu was around before DEI was a thing and we haven't had to change a lot of how we operate. And so I feel really grateful for that, because I know, like other spaces across the country certainly have if they're still around, so the fact that we're even still here is awesome, but yeah, that's it's still like a conversation to have, and it's still something that's like, always on our mind, because you need to sort of think in advance of it, because You never know what's gonna happen. So certainly, DEI stuff, and then, like our general political climate, talking about the election for supporting students, there will also always be a moment where Black people are under attack. So it's not something that you know Makuu is unfamiliar with, supporting students through. Those are the biggest two I can think of.
CODNER: I don't think that every student knows that this is a space for different kinds of students, which is to say, I think there's a worry that you need to fit into a certain kind of blackness, to be here and to participate and be welcomed. And I want students to feel like their blackness, like their whole selves are welcomed and supported and seen and loved here I want students to know that I want students to know that they don't have to go through things alone. They just need to tell us that they're going through things. and it can be difficult to open up about things, or feel like you know, or imagine that there's a way that we could support you when it seems like that's entirely out of our jurisdiction. But you really never know who we know, and you never know our experience, or how we can help And so I think I want students to feel like they can open up to us and ask us for help, and know that like, like we're actually going to try and show up for that, like we actually practice what we preach, we're going to actually do the work. So I want them to feel confident in that, and what else? But I also just want them to know that, like, we are actually, like, physically here at 3601[Locust Walk]. Because I also think that many students don't know where we are
ANWUNAH: In the basement, yeah, because I didn't know it was in the basement. I walked and I was like I don’t know where I am, walked right out
CODNER: They call it the garden level.
ANWUNAH: Oh sorry, the garden level
CODNER: It is the basement, and it is a *corner* of the basement. So I actually, so I want them to know that we are in the basement of 3601 [Locust Walk] okay
ANWUNAH: We'll get the word out.
CODNER: Thank you
ANWUNAH: Okay, kind of in the same line of thought. Do you have any advice for freshmen who are first coming in and having Makuu or like seniors who are leaving and won't have this resource anymore?
CODNER: Okay, for freshmen. I think, yeah, going back to like the general, what I want people to know, I think, like, just reaching out if this face feels I think it can be difficult to come into this space that people are already in and feel comfortable in like, when you're kind of first coming here. So reach out to me, Brian, and Michelle, because we can walk you in and welcome you in and be those kind of intermediaries for you. And so, yeah, just like, reach out. I think that's the advice I have for freshmen. Staff, particularly, I'll say, like, Black staff, actually, no, I'll say the Cultural Resource Center staff You know, our mission is to support students, support underrepresented students, so, if they reach out to us, we'll be able to support them. So yes, I think reach out is my advice. And then also, advocate for yourself is another one which is maybe connected to reaching out. But like, you know, we work for students. In student affairs, they call students the clients, because it's true, like we do, like I am doing my job well when students are succeeding and doing and being happy and doing well here, which is to say that like I think there are a lot of ways that it feels like Penn is against you, but actually, like, you have a lot of say and a lot of power over your experience here. And so I think I want students and freshmen to feel empowered to make this experience, this college experience, what they want it to be, and to ask for things, and, you know, demand better from us, from Penn, and from anything here. So yeah, I want students to feel that.
And then for seniors, I think one advice is to, like, stay connected I think I was also really excited to come back because I didn't do the best at that, or do the best at taking advantage of, like, all the networking opportunities here. And so maybe that's another piece of advice for freshmen, but also for seniors just stay connected. Stay involved. Make a profile on the alumni database, and just stay connected to this place that you invested four years in. Because, like, the returns are supposed to come long after your time here. So, definitely cash out on those returns. So that piece of advice. And then also I think, like graduating you know, once you're in senior year, you're at the top of the food chain, like you are the expert of the college experience, because you've done it for four years And so you know, you're in the highest position in a lot of ways. And then you graduate, and you're like a freshman again, and you're very baby adult, and you know nothing. And so I think I just want to reassure seniors that like navigating life post-grad–it can be challenging, but it really is just a part of the process and that like Penn, you know, Penn gets you far. Like, I think it's a long four or however many years it takes you to finish Like, it's a long couple years, but like it really does, you know, it really does help. So, yeah, there’s at least some solace in being the baby adults.
ANWUNAH: How, in your opinion, has Makuu made a mark on the greater Penn community?
CODNER: I think Black spaces in general challenge the environments that they're in and force them to be better, and force them to hold themselves accountable. Because that's a lot of what doing, say, like Black work is, and so I think Makuu has done that I think it's been an advocate for students
I think it's been in partnership with students in ways that kind of model, like, how to be in admin and like, have a certain view of the university from this perspective, but also like, understand that this is a universityspace, it is a service that provides a student experience. and how to like center students in what we do. So I think they've been involved in that. I think part of the sort of core of Black spaces being challenging is that they challenge the spaces that they're in to be inclusive of everyone And so I think Makuu has really sort of been that for Penn and will continue to be it. and I think the joy that we give, yeah, it's Black joy, but like, there's Black joy for everyone too. And so I hope that Penn feels that kind of joy that we bring,
ANWUNAH: Yeah, I think so Has there been, like, a particularly rewarding experience that you've had working here?
CODNER: Okay, well, I think the favorite parts of my day, and this is like, what's most rewarding, have been moments where I can just talk to students, and I have them open up to me or asking for advice or just like really just chop it up with them. So like, my morning routine is coming, and normally there's like, one or two students here, and I'll talk to them for like, 30 minutes or an hour, and that'll be, just the first part of my workday is just catching up with the students or two and seeing what's happening in their life And it's so fun to walk in the office expecting to see this face that is also excited to see you. And we could just, you know, we could just talk. And so I think those opportunities to talk with students, whenever they happen, are the most rewarding part of being here. And it's not just one, it's every moment, even if it's just like passing I think being able to be seen as a, I don't know, supportive person, or like someone that matters to students that they enjoy. I don't know, it feels really good. And also feels like, you know, I’m setting out and doing what I set out to do to some extent. So that's really affirming.
ANWUNAH: Okay, I have one more question left Were there any lessons that maybe you've learned as an undergrad or now that you carry with you, like, particularly that you learned from Makuu or, like, from your experiences here?
CODNER: I think going back to, like the ways that Makuu is kind of like a central space, or like a connector to a lot of spaces. I think, like, the whole message of we got y'all– we put in emails and pillows and everything. That's a politic, for real. I feel like we live in a really individualistic society, a really individualistic world, and that goes against a lot of the ways that Makuu has been able to, like guide students to success. You know, it really does take a village. And I think that's like one lesson that I had to unlearn was this individualism, because I think Penn also kind of produces this idea that you need to be the best, so you need to only feel you're here, because you need to only focus on, like, your own success, and, you know, getting your own bag after college, or, you know, being like president, or whatever it is. But Makuu is like, yeah, you can do all those things. But also, like, where's your community? And you know, how are they helping you? Because you don't have to do it alone. And you know, you can
actually have people supporting you to be club president. And, you know, and that's a way of doing all those things and achieving all the success that you want without it being as lonely or tiring or whatever it is. And so I think unlearning individualism and learning how to do life in community, I think, is something that Makuu has definitely taught me and continues to teach and practice.
ANWUNAH: Learning to do life in community. That's a bar.
CODNER: Thanks, it was off the dome.
ANWUNAH: Okay, that's all I have for right now. Thank you so much for meeting with me and being so dedicated.
thank you