Better, Brighter, Whiter Part7

With as much gossip as she’d heard about Freshman classes being unsettling and weird, Emefa was surprised at how normal the classroom for Diversify studies seemed. The room itself was pretty normal looking and the not-terribly-unattractive teacher was fairly inconspicuous as far as college professors went. She briefly rolled her eyes upon seeing yet another white man in charge of teaching diversity to a group of mostly white students, but that sort of thing was something she’d become accustomed to long ago when she was growing up. Students shuffled in and while the majority of them didn’t even seem to notice Emefa, there were still a few guys and girls who would gawk or grin at her, whispering to their friends about how fat she was or how small her tits were. She knew they were rich kids who’d never had to put forth even the slightest amount of effort for anything they had their entire lives. She knew that they could just get plastic surgery if they ever got fat or wanted their nose to be smaller, and that they would never know what it was like to have to exercise constantly just to avoid blowing up like a balloon from treating herself every once in a while. But it still hurt.

Emefa had put in years of effort to slim down after growing up  fat as a kid. Many of the kids in her area were the same, practically told from birth by their parents that one day, they WOULD get fat and there was no avoiding it. Sometimes it would be a comeback to a comment about their weight or an attempt at being comforting when their fatty diets from living in the ghetto started to pile weight onto the kids. Girl especially had a hard time coming to grips with accepting that they were just another fat girl in the crowd and not destined for anything more glamorous than dyeing their hair and getting a job at a hair salon. Emefa had done everything she could to avoid such a fate and vowed that she would graduate college and live the a life of luxury and happiness without having to spend it buried in a mountain of her own blubber, gasping for air, a cheeseburger, and a cigarette. She’d done well for herself and even moved away from the place that was keeping her down, but to hear on her first day how fat and ghetto she still was was becoming increasingly crushing the more she thought about it.
Professor Boardwell stepped up to the front of the class and began speaking, snapping her out of her depressing trance and pulling her back to the real world. He introduced himself curtly and immediately began taking a roll call in a tone of voice that had virtually every student looking around with concern. 

“Is he seem like….suuuuuper pissed off to you?” A stunning redheaded girl whispered from across the aisle, stopping Emefa cold with the brilliance of her icy eyes before the black girl had time to respond. 

(1)

“Oh. Oh! Right? He sounds like he’s got a problem with us or something. Like dude, chill out. We’ll get off your damn lawn.” She said, forgetting her insecurity for long enough to allow her the confidence to crack a joke that made her classmate erupt in laughter, drawing all of the attention directly to her.

“Excuse me…..” He said, looking down at his roll sheet. “Evangeline Schwartzwald. Miss Schwartzwald, would you mind telling us what is so unbelievably hilarious about the roll call that you simply couldn’t help but unleash your joy and whimsical frivolity in the middle of my classroom?” 

The professor asked with a kind smile and blazing intensity in his eyes. “Perhaps it’s something that Miss…..” He said, trailing off as he squinted his eyes at the roll sheet, and then scowling before setting it back down. 

“Knight? Emily?” He asked.

“Actually. That is a clerical error. My name is Emefa Kikelomo. It should be written down in a note on the roll sheet like you said it would be after I emailed you a week ago explaining the situation.” Emefa corrected, half pleading and half annoyed out of her mind.

“ Well…Yep, there’s definitely a note there. Okay…lemme see….Emi…Emu..Holy fucking shit. Help me out here. It’s definitely African, so Ehmahfah? Emeefé? Emee? Emu? Eevee? Emmie?” He rambled haphazardly, clearly trying to not repeat what he was told.

“Emefa. Em-Ee-fuh. Emefa.” She said, spelling her name out politely like she were in a spelling bee, an equally polite smile beneath her even more intensely passive aggressive eyes.

“Yeah, I’m never gonna fuckin’ remember that.” He said, shaking his head.

“You can do it.” Emefa cheered kindly, the malevolence of her death smile having been honed to a laser sharp edge after a lifetime of practice. She was actually impressed when he doubled down instead if backing off.

“Tell you what, how about I’m gonna call you Emmie for short? That way I can stop butchering your name and we can get on with me reprimanding you for disrupting class only seven minutes into class on our first day?”

“Well I would…” She replied sweetly. “But unfortunately we cannot move on to my punishment yet because you haven’t held up your part of the deal by ceasing to butcher my name.” 

Professor Boardwell stared for a moment, a grin slowly growing on his face as he analyzed Emefa’s facial expression with increasing interest. He smiled, then raised his lips into an Obama-esque “not bad” face, nodding his head as he did. “Well damn. Fuck me, shit! Sorry for offending you Emfema-“

“Emefa.” She interrupted.

“Eemeefah.” He said, sounding at least like he *wanted* to *want* to get it right, but couldn’t. “You know what, I’ll let the roll call wait a minute because I actually think this is a pretty great opportunity. Since we have such an outspoken black woman in the class, I think it would behoove all of us here in the Diversity Studies course to give her some special attention right now. She obviously has very important things to say, so let’s take the time to hear about her and why she believes that what she has to say is more valuable than what I am saying. Emmie-fah? Come on up to the front of the class and fill us in please. Everyone, give Emmie…keelko…Kilklio-momo… Listen to Emmie K.” Said the professor cockily.

It was an obvious attack. His goal was to force Emefa to either shrink down into her seat and be defeated, or attempt to make a stand and embarrass herself into submission. It was cruel, but something she was well prepared for at this point in her life. She stood up and walked to the center of the class and stood behind the podium, looking both prepared and professional, her bright smile lighting up the room.

“Hello everyone, my name is Emefa Kikelomo, that’s Em-ee-fuh Kee-kay-lo-mo for those who can rattle off Evangeline Schwartzwald without effort, but can’t handle anything more complicated than Emmie K when addressing me. I believe that my input is more valuable than yours professor because while you may have a degree, that doesn’t make you, a straight, white, physically man in a position of authority the most insightful person when it comes to diversity given that you’re part of the largest and most aggressively oppressive demographic in history. I AM Diversity. Hell, this white-ass class is most likely going to be studying ME and MY culture because they’re too sheltered to have ever even been exposed to the way that my community and I have been forced to live for over a century. Any questions?” Emefa asked, grinning smugly.

“Yeah, I got one.” The professor said, leaning back in his chair. “Why should we care about any of that? The Irish were persecuted. The Saxons were sold as slaves. Most of the Jews killed in the holocaust were what you would call white. Or did you think that Diversity studies meant Black Only Studies? You didn’t mention the American Indians or the Mexicans or anyone but YOUR nationality. So why should we care about what you have to say, since you clearly don’t seem to have a solid grasp of what it is to work in the Ethnic Studies Division here at Bright?”

Emefa smiled. His attacks were affecting her, but not enough to make her stop. And even now he thought he’d won and embarrassed her in front of the whole class, but she still had a marvelous card to play.

“Because I DO work in the Ethnic Studies Division. I am here on a full ride scholarship as the head of the Bright University Diversity and Inclusion Initiative. My job is to find all of the areas where I believe that our school can improve their inclusivity by doing things like altering lesson plans, sacking shitty teachers who try to humiliate their students for being next to a girl who was laughing at how serious roll call is to them, painting over or removing culturally insensitive images, that kind of stuff.” Emefa said, and noted with glee the drastic drop in the professor’s face and enthusiasm after having heard that he had effectively just tried to publicly shame the administrator of his performance review.

“For those of you who don’t know,” she continued. “My group is called Better, Brighter, Whiter and it’s our job to make sure that this university is a safe place for people of all races, creeds and walks of life.” 

The crowd was listening and the black girl found her confidence soaring as she noticed how approving and interested everyone seemed to be in hearing about the project. There was a giddy nervousness that welled up inside of her for a moment that almost made her forget to breathe in her excitement, passing just as quickly as she noticed that she’d been talking with her shoulders tensed and raised. 

“That’s absolutely awesome.” Professor Boardwell stated warmly, sitting up in his chair. “I am sure I will probably be consulting you for your opinions on the subjects we go over from time to time if you’ll be so kind as to weigh in and give us some new perspective. And if any students wanted to contact you for additional information, how would they do that?” 

“Ooh, good question! So you can reach me via email? My address is just my name, EmmieK@imail.com and from there I can send you like…news letters or link you to our event list and all that cool stuff. Sooo yeah. Hope to hear from you all soon!” Emmie said, grinning and almost giggling shyly as the class erupted into applause. 

The rest of the class had gone swimmingly and Emmie was skipping and giddy over her first successful college class. Even if it WAS just the first day and all that really happened was roll, her presentation, and an overview of the syllabus. She walked out into the warm light, basking in the sun and the beauty of the campus, delighted at how well Bright University was beginning to live up to it’s name.

(2)

With her victory still fresh in her mind and a powerful caffeine craving hitting her in the head, she strode confidently over to the local campus café. It wasn’t exactly Starbucks, but it was damn near enough that it way as well have been given how high end the place was. She was used to suburban public school cafeterias and at best a secondary snack cart in the commons area, not this boujie Beverly Hills kind of treatment. Looking around the room, she found Keili posted up at one of the comfy little restaurant booths on the other side of the room, practically bouncing in her seat trying to get her friend’s attention. Emmie gave the “calm down” sign before ordering her usual and heading over once they’d made it. 

“Ooooh, what’cha get?” She asked, bobbling happily in her seat as she sucked a thick-looking drink through a large straw. 

“This is a venti iced coffee with three pumps of sugar-free vanilla and caramel, and almond milk instead of cream.” Emmie said proudly, clasping her hands together and smiling widely, showing off her glistening, perfect smile.

“Ooh, sounds diet-ey. Is it good at least?” Keili asked
“Oh my god, it’s SO good. And it’s even better because it’s also under 100 calories so I don’t need to worry about drinking it.” Came Emmie’s satisfied reply. 

 “Cool, cool….” Keili said, pointedly avoiding eye contact for dramatic effect, her naturally large chest jutting out in a way that detracted from her chubby body. She was definitely in need of some cardio, the bubbly ebony thought, but she wore her weight so well that it almost made up in curvage what she lacked in tone. She was very pretty for a fat girl.

(3)

“See….that sounds SUUUPER yummy but I have to say that mine is a cookies and cream frappuccino with wholefat everything and is probably going to give me a touch of the diabeetus. Also, do you wanna try some?” She asked, grinning.

“OBVIOUSLY YES.” Emmie said, thrusting her own drink towards her friend while nearly diving for the more fattening one as she caved to temptation at the very first opportunity she was given. 

The two of them spent the afternoon chatting about classes while pointing out the plethora of hot guys just walking around and even laughing when they saw the obvious freshman walking by looking scraggly and out of place in a place loaded with muscular studs in button downs and tight tank tops. Emmie was done for the day , but decided to wait with her Polynesian friend while she killed time until she moved on to her second class of the day. Apparently, her Cosmetics course was very hands on and everyone was delighted to have their first assignment be to pair off and do each other’s makeup. Next up was Nutrition, which did give the heavyset woman some anxiety given that she was one of the only fat girls she had ever seen on campus and would stick out like a sore thumb with a neon sign that says “I am fat” attached to it. 

The two walked to the classroom and waited for a while until a horde of busty women shimmied their magnificent, plastic enhanced bodies out of the classroom, nearly causing Tonisha to miss her  friends standing outside the door.

“Haaaay!” She called out, throwing her hands in the air as she sauntered over, swaying her soft, curvy hips as she did. She had a sort of feminine wiggle and a sleek plushness that belied a surprising amount of physical strength underneath her supple exterior. Slimthick was definitely an accurate descriptor.

(4)

“You guys taking Nutrition?” She asked, eyes dancing around between her friends and all the lights coming on around the school.

“She is, I’m done for the day.” Emmie stated before Keili could, causing the slightly discouraged island girl to stifle her response and let her friend do the talking.

“It’s not bad!” She said, nodding in approval. “I think they’re really focused on fad diets and scammy weight loss stuff, but I’m hoping that that’s analyzing the actual effectiveness of those and dispelling the myths and stuff. But we’ll see. If so, cool. If not, that’s something that we can bring up during BBW meetings and stuff.” 

“True! But also, I gotta go in now. So I will see yoouuuu probably tomorrow? This one goes a little late.” Keili said, and after hugging her friends and neighbors, walked inside the classroom, her own wide, naturally fat ass rivaling some of the curviest bubble butt bimbos that walked in before her.

“Alright then.” Tonisha began. “I am fucking STARVING and was thinking of heading to the café if you wanna go? They have a whole menu devoted to drinks under like 200, 150,  and 100 calories.”

Emmie twisted her lips into a polite frown and said “Nooo, I’m sorryyy….I actually just came from there with Keili when I was walking her to her class. I’m just gonna head home and finish preparing my speech since I’m presenting in a couple weeks and I wanna make sure it’s enough to make real change, but not so much that it freaks out the deans advisors and they call in the national guard to stop my one-woman Antifa riot.” 

“Well, suit yourself. I’m hella hungry right now though, so I’m gonna go grab something to snack on before heading home. I’ll catch you later.” Tonisha said, already turning around and walking away, exaggerating once again the sway of her hips in a way that Emmie found to be both a little sexy and a little desperate.

She’d made it to the end of the campus when she’d run into Malcolm getting into his car and made sure to say hi. She’d had every intention of just saying hello and then going on her way until he clicked his car remote and unlocked the passenger doors. She looked up at him quizzically, but amused as he tried to put on a cool face and failed.

“Hey uhh, since you’re here, want a lift home?” He offered without even a hint of predatory intent in his voice. 

Emmie shook her head. “Nooo, that’s like way out of your way and it’s only like a ten minute walk. I’ll live. Thank you though.” 

Malcolm shrugged. “Hey, it’s really no trouble. I’m not in any hurry anyways and it’s literally my job to look out for you girls, so it’s the least I can do. Hop in. I insist.” 

Emmie was slightly annoyed and made it known on her face that she wasn’t overly delighted about being told what to do or that he didn’t take no for an answer, but even so, he was so geeky and non-threatening that she genuinely believed that not only did he not mean to be misogynistic, but that he legitimately had no idea he was doing anything other than being nice. She rolled her eyes and smiled in spite of herself.

“Fiiiiiiiine.” She said, grinning through her moderate anxiety at being pressured to get into a man’s car.
Malcolm however, did nothing but exactly what he said he was going to do. He drove her home, made no stops or weird statements. For intents and purposes, he was a perfect gentlemen. When they arrived, he asked if she would like him to walk her to her door and

 while she said no, she appreciated the offer.
“Good night, Malcolm.” She said.

“Good night, Emil-Emmie” He said, correcting his mistake before he finished making it.

Emmie narrowed her eyes and pointed at him, playfully threatening to scold him before walking inside, overjoyed at the wonderful day she’d had.