8 months ago, after I told a boy who sat next to me on my flight back to New York where I lived in Brooklyn, he said, “Oh, so do you go to Pratt?” I had never heard of Pratt. I had just moved from Greenpoint, in the northern tip of Brooklyn. Pratt Institute sits in a nice little neighborhood in Clinton Hill/Ft. Greene only a few blocks from my current apartment. I pass by the school on the way to the grocery store, the bank, the library and the park yet it’s so esoteric to me. Their gated campus, neatly mowed lawns, security and art store intimidates me – mostly because I don’t belong.