Home gradually began to feel more distant, almost like a place in my imagination. While I was in college, I kept up with a few of my high school friends, most especially Santita, who'd landed at Howard University in Washington, D. C. I went to visit her there over a long weekend and we laughed and had deep conversations, same as we always had. Howard's campus was urban --"Girl, you're still in the hood!" I teased, after a giant rat charged past us outside her dorm -- and its student population, twice the size of Princeton's, was almost entirely black. I envied Santita for the fact she was not isolated by her race -- she didn't have to feel that everyday drain of being in a deep minority -- but still, I was content returning to the emerald lawns and vaulted stone archways of Princeton, even if few people there could relate to my background.

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