When I stepped on the hallowed grounds of Tougaloo College with a Tigger twin size bed set, a 13” TV/VCR combo (or was it 9”??), and a wardrobe that consisted mostly of jeans and baggy t-shirts, I was 16 years old. I had decided to bypass my senior year and begin my college career early with a full scholarship. Sure, I was known for being smart—I had been tutoring people of all ages in math since junior high—but I can’t pretend I didn’t hear the whispers of skeptical people who thought I’d surely flunk out and/or get buckwild by the end of the first semester. I was a shy kid who waited for outgoing people to strike up conversations with me, always wondering who didn’t think I belonged there. So I started the semester only letting my hallmates see how silly I could be and making sure my nose was…