Janelle Turnquest is a program manager senior analyst at Cigna in Houston and a 2018 Emory University graduate. The softball student-athlete majored in psychology with a minor in global health, culture, and society. Turnquest finished her career with 21 home runs and 108 runs batted in. She earned a master’s degree in management from the Wake Forest University School of Business in 2019.
The UAA “Conversations About Race and Racism” series seeks to lift the voices of people of color and recognize the challenges faced in both athletics and academics at the collegiate level. By sharing personal stories, we hope to elevate the conversation about race to raise awareness and bring about change.
Growing up in Predominantly White Schools
Turnquest was the only Black student in her elementary school and one of three African-Americans in a high school of 705 students. “With a lot of retrospection since then, I recognized why many comments didn’t feel right at the time,” she recognized. “When I was in the fourth grade, a Black man had been exposing himself at the local high school. When the teacher mentioned it, everyone in the class looked at me. I felt weird, but I wasn’t sure why at the time.”
That same year, Turnquest wanted an Asian-American friend of hers in the fifth grade to hang out with her. “Her mother looked at me and told her no in front of my face. We had lived in the same neighborhood for years,” It was not a defining moment, but when you consistently have this cup and have negative things poured into it, you become hyper-aware of racism and constantly on your guard,” she explained. “When we learned about slavery in school, which we skimmed over, I was very uncomfortable being the only Black student. I recall another African-American student being in my class my senior year and I no longer felt uncomfortable when racial topics came up. There was someone else there who knew what my experience was like and was there to hear it with me.”
One of the effects of attending predominantly white schools is something she just recently came to grips with. “I grew up in a great school district and went to two great universities,” she remarked. “It wasn’t until I finished graduate school that I realized I missed out on some very important cultural aspects of being around other Black people.”
She attributes some of that to the groups she chose to be a part of. “I sought out people I was drawn to through my natural interests, namely the Christian coffeehouse, campus ministry, and softball. That is where I spent my time so I was always in a group that had my back or were not having conversations about race,” Turnquest described. “There is an Instagram page, Black at Emory, where people were sharing their stories. It was really eye-opening to see some of those experiences. I think my interests had created a kind of blind eye.”
White Curriculum
Turnquest believes that Black people are left out of academia in a most profound area, the curriculum. “If I brought up Emmitt Till (a 14-year-old lynched in Mississippi in 1955 for allegedly whistling at a white woman) in a conversation at school, it would go over people’s heads. Last week I spoke to a dear friend who was the assistant principal during my freshman year in high school and we wondered why we never learned about Katherine Johnson (NASA mathematician who was critical in the first U.S. crewed spaceflights) or Garrett Morgan, Sr. (who invented the traffic light) in school,” she lamented. “Why don’t we talk about that greatness? I am still learning so much at 24 that I wasn’t taught in school, even with the privilege I had.”
“Black Twitter,” a well-understood subculture among African-Americans on the social media platform, began asking Black people of all ages how old they were when they had their first Black teacher. “Mine was in my freshman year of college,” Turnquest observed. “We are taught to value and respect our teachers. If you have a student or students who don’t look like you, how intentional are you being about your influence? We need to celebrate accomplishments by Black people the way we do with others.”
Softball Experiences
“Comments were made in club softball. One time, when I was 13 or 14, a girl started a slang version of the n-word. I knew her intent wasn’t bad because we were friends, but that stirred up a lot in me,” she remembered. “I get upset now that I didn’t tell her how uncomfortable that made me, but I was the only Black person and I froze.”
Although she had strong relationships with teammates through the years, one incident in college remains a source of discomfort. “One of my teammates asked what I had been through that she hadn’t been through. Just because we were in the same place at the same time didn’t mean that we had the same journey. That is far from true,” she expressed. “I kick myself for not holding that person accountable. It was purely out of a place of ignorance. People don’t understand the impact of their words. My best friend (Ashley Powers) caught wind of how it affected me.”
She was thankful to have the softball coaches and teammates she did. “We had a diverse club team and a fairly diverse team at Emory. I never had any coach discriminate against me because of my race,” she remarked. “I always felt safe and encouraged.”
Common Misconceptions
“I am sure there were misconceptions about me that I didn’t recognize at the time. There is a very thin line of when it is okay to mention a stereotype and when it is not, based on the strength of the relationship,” Turnquest stated. “The fried chicken and watermelon comments are annoying, particularly because I can’t stand watermelon. One thing that was very tough was hearing, ‘You don’t talk like a Black girl’ or that I wasn’t ‘Black enough.’ I can assess what ‘You are so articulate’ means. I shouldn’t have to prove their misconceptions wrong.”
Her freshman advisor had studied African-American history and lynching. “I was required to meet with him and he kept bringing up those topics and talking more and more about lynching,” she recollected. “I was wondering, ‘Are you bringing this up because I am Black and you think I want to hear about this?’ I was uncomfortable that he didn’t get to know me before going into that space.”
Learning Her Own Strength
Reflecting back on incidents that happened many years ago, Turnquest regrets not speaking up at the moment. “Even in graduate school, there was a moment I froze and wish now I had told the person what they said was not okay,” she admitted. “I am feeling more empowered now to articulate those things. In the last few months, I have realized how valid my feelings are. It is a symptom of systemic racism that if you react, you will suffer x, y, and z consequences.”
She also sees strength in not reacting, choosing when to fight. “We are trained to take hurtful comments and keep moving on. A lot of Black women have felt this and not been able to put a name to it,” she communicated. “I have learned that another form of strength is to not react. It is exhausting to react. I have seen that strength in my mother.”
No matter how she reacts to racist comments and microaggressions, Turnquest acknowledges that it is taxing. “This time is tiring for African-Americans 100 percent. It is also enervating for people who have been unconscious and totally unaware of racism all these years,” she said. “Every Black person has gone through racist experiences. It is really tough to hear about these experiences so often. There are more subtle things than being killed. We need to realize that every Black person is going through some version of this.”
Natural Hair
“Wearing my natural hair has been a really big thing for me these last several months. I braided my hair for the past eight years. Only Ashley and a few other people saw me any other way. That came from moments when people saw my natural hair and commented on how different it looked and asked if they could touch it,” she described. “Black hair is not seen as professional. That left me constantly trying to balance what I wanted to accomplish in my career with how I wanted to present myself.”
Turnquest has found solace in working for Cigna, where she has felt comfortable growing her natural hair. “The way society views beauty as skinny and blonde with blue eyes has an effect on Black people, even if it takes us years to realize it,” she explained. “I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable about how I wear my hair because someone may make a comment. It is important for people to understand what Black people, or anyone who doesn’t look like you, are consciously thinking they need to be emulate being accepted by you.”
She adds that taking care of natural hair is not an easy task for Black people. “It takes multiple hours on wash day. A lot of women are wearing locks and dreads, which requires a lot of work,” Turnquest explained. “It is difficult to do all that work and then have your hair seen as not good enough or professional enough.”
Advice
“I would give others the same advice I give myself: speak up,” she acknowledged. “If something makes you uncomfortable, say so. Validate your own feelings when something feels wrong. If you or I are afraid to express disapproval, what does it say about the people we are influenced by and want to influence?”
Turnquest believes self-reflection and analysis are critical. “There is a lot of personal reflection necessary. Normalize discussions about race. You need to find a group of people you can enter into this vulnerable space with,” she recommended. “You don’t have to know the solution. Brainstorm with someone you can talk to about it and then move forward.”
The recent murders and protests have accelerated the importance of having difficult conversations. “It is sad that it took something like this to give people the power they always had to speak out. We can all have these conversations, but it is particularly important for non-Black people to do so,” she commented. “I challenge you to talk to your family, to your good friends you may have avoided talking about multiple things with to preserve the relationship. Don’t be afraid to use your voice and let people know how you feel.”
She believes one of the reasons keeping people from having these conversations is that they often see their Black friends without color. “’I have a Black friend’ does not excuse you from talking about race and racism,” she elucidated. “How you feel about me is how you should feel about the next Black person, even if you don’t know them. People erase my blackness. If you see me as Black and want to have a positive, progressive conversation, reach out to me.”
She understands that some people do not see race as their responsibility or don’t want to go deep into these conversations. “I know that non-Black people may be tired of hearing about racism. Imagine how tired people are of experiencing it,” she stated. “If you are in a group that is not willing to talk about race, I am not going to be part of that group. We all need to reflect on what is in our hearts and why it matters to talk about racism. Unless you identify what is actually happening, you cannot move forward.”
Turnquest sees the need for safe spaces to discuss race. “You will make mistakes. As Black people, we need to show grace. If you don’t know what to say, it is okay to start there,” she remarked. “Get comfortable getting uncomfortable. Move forward and make your intent known, that you want to be supportive.”
Sharing One Another’s Lives
Some of Turnquest’s most important memories revolve around spending quality time with teammates and roommates, both at Emory and Wake Forest. “My former teammates are some of my best friends. Being close and visiting them, going to someone else’s space and getting to know them for all of them, not just on the field or in school, was incredible,” she pronounced. “There was more to them than athletics and academics. Dive in and get to know them.”
She had two roommates from China in graduate school. “I learned their culture. One of my fondest memories was going to the Asian market and then cooking the food together,” she recalled. “We have the ability to get to know people and their stories. Be a sponge, take it all in.”
Turnquest took advantage of cultural events during her time at Emory. “We had great events like Diwali Week (a five-day festival run by the student-run Emory Indian Cultural Exchange) and celebrating German culture. Step into that zone and learn more about those cultures,” recalled Turnquest, who also had the opportunity to stay with a Somoan family. “I couldn’t replicate that experience. It is important to learn about other cultures.”
Most importantly, truly knowing someone means knowing what matters to them. “If something is part of my culture and you don’t see that, you are not seeing me,” she commented. “Bringing together people with diverse experiences and thoughts are important. Celebrate those differences.”