Category Archives: The Journey

Black Girl Learns to Code: “Computing for the Humanities”

William & Mary offers a week long, no credit course for graduate students called “Computing for the Humanities.” If you remember, I spent time last semester in community with Black digital humanities scholars at “Intentionally Digital, Intentionally Black” and then spent a lot of time afterwards trying to understand how my own work fit into this larger conversation about the digital. So naturally, after deciding that my scholarship fit into this conversation about digital humanities, the next step was to then increase my knowledge of the field. I was already enrolled in a Digital Humanities (DH) course, but I wanted more. I wanted to learn how to code.

So I signed up for “Computing for the Humanities” not really knowing what to expect. After the week long course was over, I was surprised at how much I had learned. Professor Deverick was kind and patient with us as we learned the basics of computing, built on those foundations, and then used the skills he equipped us with to solve our own problems. One of the most successful aspects of the course was that we spent a lot of time applying the programs we were learning to run to our own data sets; it was hands on in the best way. There was very little time spent lecturing, though Professor Deverick was very careful to explain what was happening in each line of code, which I found particularly useful as it made it much easier to replicate the example with my own data.

Each day was different, but followed the same pattern: in the mornings, we learned how to execute a program, what each of the components meant, walked through each piece together, and answered questions and attempted to problem solve. We learned how to create HTML web pages, how to scrape web pages for information, how to work with tabular data, how to create and run an Optical Character Recognition program in python, how to create visualizations, how to map things and we even had a tutorial on social media and how to scrape Twitter. Then, in the afternoons, we were set free to try our hand at executing the same program on our own data. So when we learned how to scrape web pages, I spent the afternoon collecting a CSV (comma-separated values) file full of information on my Black Girl Does Grad School posts; I created one spreadsheet collecting the title and dates of all of my posts and then another of all of the my guest posts. On the day we learned to do OCR, I spent the afternoon (unsuccessfully) trying to teach my program to read comic book pages. And on the day we did some work on social media, I was able pull down 3,200 of my own tweets and then see how many of them included references to my friend Micah (LOL).

The feeling of successfully creating a code and seeing it run properly is unparalleled. I was always so pleasantly surprised when anything ran correctly, and was always brimming with pride when visualizations popped up or when I was able to write a code (almost) on my own. Part of why I loved doing this work is the feeling of gratification when you have solved a problem. I think you have to be willing to fail, and be okay with failing, in order to work with computer programming. Yet, I think it’s more than being okay with failing– I think it’s more about a willingness to try and try again. It’s about a willingness to try a different way to the solution. It’s about problem solving and thinking on your feet. It’s such a creative enterprise and deeply artistic in many ways.

I love any type of project where I can show my results to my parents in a way in which they value. So for me to be able to show my dad my visualizations and my code and talk to him about what I had accomplished each day, was such a valuable experience for me.

At this particular moment in time, I’m not sure how much I will delve into programming on my own, but I know I want to try and create something, which is a pretty typical Ravynn move. If there’s anything I love, it’s making things. And the skills that I gained at “Computing for the Humanities” just gave me more tools for my arsenal. I can’t wait to see what I create.


Additionally, I just want to give a shout out to the undergraduate TAs for the course, Meg and Ali, who were wonderful and so helpful the entire week. Both of them sat with me at different junctures and walked me through how to do cool things with my information and I absolutely would not have been able to do so without them.

Black Girl Does Not Do Grad School Alone

By Martina Lampkin

Having just finished my first semester of grad school, I find this to be the perfect time to reflect on the trials and tribulations, as well as the joys of working on an advanced degree. One thing that easily made a big impression on me was the surprise and delight of not being the only black girl in my classes.

So, a little bit of background: I am a software developer, and for every project I have been on at work, I have been the only black female developer. Because the school I’m attending has become more diverse, I knew I was not going to be the only black person in the Computer Science Master’s degree program. However, because of my past work experiences, I thought I was going to be the rare black girl in a program and field dominated by white and Asian men. As I sat in the classroom waiting for my professor to come into my first class of the semester, it looked like I was going to be the only black girl in the class.

It wouldn’t be the first time I was the only person of a specific demographic in my classes. In an undergraduate Programming Concepts class, I was one of two girls, and the only black girl. I never thought about being the only black girl in class because I wasn’t as socially aware at the time;I didn’t understand that there were privileges that I would not get in the tech industry. In a CompTIA certification class I was taking after completing my Bachelor’s degree, I was the only girl in the class. I started worrying at that point because I didn’t know that I was going to be the only girl in the class until the instructor told me after calling my name during roll call. Will the guys try to be sexist and say sexist things? Will I be made to feel unwelcome because I’m not a man?

At that moment, a black girl walked in. My expectations, that were formed from past experiences, were broken instantly shattered into a million pieces that blew away in the wind. The surprises didn’t stop there: Another black girl walked into the class. No longer was I the only black girl in the class, I was one of three. For my other class, I was also one of three black girls; the two aforementioned girls were in that class with me. Ah, the joys of core classes where you’ll see at least some of the same people in your classes during that semester.

Just like other people in the class, we complained about one of our classes, we talked about our professors, I even gave one girl notes from a class I had previously taken. So why are we seen as the “other” in tech when we are similar to the people who fit the majority?

It is so important for any black girl who wants to work in the tech industry to see other black girls learning with them, or working in the field. We can face the unique challenges of being the minority in the field together. It’s why I’m getting my Master’s degree in Computer Science; I want to be the representation that is desperately needed to break the status quo. I want a young black woman to see me at school or work and think “There’s someone like me. I can do this!” The only black women I would see at work had the stereotypical administrative roles. I questioned if I would ever see another black woman like me working a tech job, and I almost left the industry because of lack of representation.

While one of the black girls I met in my classes will be switching to a different tech-related program after this semester, it was still great walking through the start of grad school with her. I will miss having another black girl walk with me on this journey, but I know there are other black girls in the computer science program who will gladly walk together in the grad school journey.


Martina Lampkin HeadshotMartina Lampkin is a student at Towson University where she is working towards a Master’s degree in Computer Science with a concentration on Software Engineering. When she is not working or going to school, she can be found doing kickboxing, singing in her Unitarian Universalist church choir, or planning her 2020 wedding. Check out her blog where she records her journey in discovering who she is and finding her purpose in life at diaryofself.wordpress.com.

From Sharde’ to Sharon…and Back: Code Switching in Academia

By Sharde’ Chapman

Like many black women, I am in an everlasting conundrum of how I present myself. From a very early age I, like many black women of a certain age, learned that it was important to be multilingual in a world that has shaped an identity for you, even when it is totally antithetical to who you actually might be. Code switching has become so totally engrained in my day-to-day life, my fluency sometimes shocks me. I live in a constant tension between my innately black girl-isms and respectability politics-laden persona that is often reminded that I better not embarrass my mama in public.

My post-secondary career has been spent in majority white spaces. From Memphis, to the UK and cross-country, I have chosen to receive my walking papers from three, that’s right, three predominantly white institutions. This includes my short stint as an Oxford student. I am no stranger to being one of few, if not the only, chocolate chip in the batter. I have been made deeply aware of the importance of the social and political transcript of these white spaces, and how to navigate my way through the miry waters of whiteness and privilege. I purposely shape this like an epic journey because, for many black girls in academia, it is. Knowing how to stay in your lane and drag the “angry black woman” back when cans of whoop ass are totally warranted is treacherous work. It is also exhausting as fuck. I saw a statistic that said that only 3% of professors are African American women; only a little over 1% full professors. And, per usual, the stakes are amazingly high when you are a black woman in these spaces, on these campuses, teaching these classes.

Even in my own program, I am the only African American (woman) in my cohort. The differences of experiences, expectations, and seriousness with which I can be taken are staggering. I would not call myself a product of the hood, but I was definitely no stranger to it. My nerdiness, penchant for the arts, and a single black mother that was hell bent on me being well-rounded meant that I have always been a marginal black girl. I do not care for conflict or naturally speak in total African American vernacular. I have many times been accused of not being black enough by peers while also struggling to not be the “token black person” in spaces where I was indeed the only one. Code switching became the link between the two. I “Knuck If You Buck,” but also play Handel’s “Messiah” every Christmas without fail. Going into higher education, we realize that that we will walk on eggshells so that we do not offend or intimidate anyone. We soften our tone, lower our voices, and imitate the inflection of our white female counterparts. Unlike my white colleagues, I am just as versed in the dead white “classical theorists” that they work with, as well as the scholars of color that are actually important to my work studying black people. I have heard my colleagues say things like, “Maybe slavery wasn’t that bad,” and question the value of studying African Americans as a discipline. I have even had professors ask me what black people were writing in the nineteenth century after looking at their white washed syllabus. These are the realities of my PhD journey. In these moments I have had to choose silence, or measure my words with such intention when my Baldwinian level rage was near boiling over.

To be a black woman in the academic space means that Sharde’ must don the plastic smile of Sharon to address her colleagues. It has not escaped me, the aesthetic choices that I may have to make as a I draw closer to being on the job market. My waist length kinky tresses and nose hoop may have to be tamed into a more user-friendly version of itself. I will have to put a lot of effort into folding myself into a box of acceptability just to be given a chance despite the undoubtedly impressive CV that will precede me. Academia attempts to continue to surreptitiously code black women’s bodies, bending them so that they carry far more weight than they are supposed to. We are encouraged to play ball until we get tenure and are free to do our own thing ;to study things that have “value” while also knowing more than almost everyone in the room that lacks any melanin.

With this kind of reality the question becomes: how do black women survive the process? In reality, all of us do not. My mentor did not finish her doctoral degree because the strain was entirely too much. One of my dear friends did not survive the process either. I am barely hanging in there many days, but six years in, my support system and my pride won’t let me quit. In fact, it makes me push back against the boxes that I have, at many points, dismembered myself to get into. Code switching has become a weapon for me to do that. Being able to easily change languages has made me a dynamic lecturer because I remember that the lessons are more important than the words. The mask may hide the rage but it also forces me to figure out better ways to mobilize it in my work. Ultimately, it always make us miles smarter than many and most in the room. No capes, just weapons.


Rev. Sharde’ Chapman was born and raised in Orlando, Florida. Currently she is pursuing a PhD in Religion with emphasis in African American Religion. Prior to pursuing her PhD she earned a Master of Divinity from Union Presbyterian Seminary in Richmond, Virginia and a Bachelor of Arts degree in Religious Studies from Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee. While in Memphis, she was also a student at Lincoln College, Oxford University in Oxford, UK. Sharde’s research interests focus on the forms and function black non-traditional religious spaces. Sharde’ is also an ordained minister in the Baptist church.

As she pursued higher education she has been a child literacy advocate and educational trainer through the Children’s Defense Fund Freedom Schools Program. Sharde’ also shares 31 countries worth of travel insight and her self care journey on her website shardesearches.com.