My heart dropped when I realised I had finally gotten into my first‐choice university. I made it. Something that had lived only in my imagination was suddenly becoming real. When I first arrived on campus, I assumed everyone else must have it all figured out—spoiler: nobody did.
Why York? Why Biology?
Many people choose universities based on ranking, reputation, or location. Those mattered to me too, but York stood out for a different reason. When I visited for the Open Day, the Department of Biology felt alive. Not just because of the incredible research happening there, but because the students genuinely loved what they were doing. Their curiosity was contagious and sparked something in me.
I’m now studying Biotechnology, and I love my course. Honestly, I chose York in the end because a student ambassador convinced me. But after being here for a while, I’ve realised how much your experience depends on the communities you find and the spaces you choose to belong to.
Finding My Feet
My first week in York was overwhelming in the best way. From the excitement of getting my own lab coat and goggles to the treasure hunt of locating my supervisor’s office, everything felt new. What surprised me most wasn’t the equipment or the labs—it was how intentional the staff were about supporting students, and how warm the student community felt.
Coming from a diverse area, I never struggled to blend in. My skin colour was celebrated, and I was part of a close‐knit community with shared values. Transitioning to university challenged that comfort. I spent the first few weeks searching for people who were like‐minded and shared my beliefs. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t struggle to make friends on my course or to integrate at first. But I learned that everyone is adjusting—new environment, new teaching style, new independence.
University‐level science is no joke. Lectures, labs, workshops, readings—and don’t get me started on referencing. The independence you crave arrives all at once, and it’s easy to feel lost. Everything felt fast‐paced at first, but confidence came when I realised I wasn’t the only one figuring things out. We all were.
Beyond the Department
In my first lecture, out of roughly 450 biological sciences students, I counted about 13 Black students. Thirteen. Powerful.
Meeting other Black students became more than comfort, it became grounding. It reminded me that I wasn’t walking alone. I hadn’t realised how much it mattered to see people who looked like me or shared parts of my cultural experience.
There’s a quiet power in walking into a lecture or event and spotting someone who understands certain things without explanation—the jokes, the hair conversations, the shared nod when someone mispronounces your name. Community shows up in the smallest, most human ways.
Being around other Black students helped me hold onto the parts of myself and my culture that I didn’t want to lose in the busyness of university life. It helped me balance academics with the simple desire to do my hair over the weekend—staying connected to a culture that strengthens my sense of belonging.
Growth
Looking back, York didn’t just change my routine, it changed me. It placed me in spaces where I had to articulate myself more clearly, find my footing, and grow confident in who I am as a scientist, a Black woman, a Christian, and as a person. It taught me to be grounded in all the parts of myself, not just the ones that fit neatly into a lab coat.
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