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ABOUT THE QUICK TAKE Every Friday, the Quick Take columnists will offer their views on an issue of significance to American University. Notable members of the campus community will also be invited to contribute to this new feature. Suggestions for topics and other ideas from readers are welcome and encouraged, so please submit comments to edpage@theeagleonline.com. |
Two weeks ago, the nation celebrated Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in remembrance of the civil rights leader who marched on Washington in the name of equality, changing our nation for the better. King's selfless dedication and sacrifice has inspired millions of Americans to continue striving for universal equality of opportunity. Following their day of service and a bit of reflection, the Quick Take columnists explain what the holiday should mean to all of us:
Sarah Palazzolo
Continuing the nonviolent fight for change
Joe Gruenbaum
Derek Siegel
Investigating diversity and identity
Continuing the nonviolent fight for change
By Sarah Palazzolo
“The nonviolent resister not only refuses to shoot his opponent but he also refuses to hate him. At the center of nonviolence stands the principle of love,” wrote Martin Luther King, Jr. in his 1957 book about the Montgomery bus boycott, Stride Toward Freedom. He contends, in fine Gandhian tradition, that nonviolent protesters, above all, cannot give in to the “temptation” of hating the enemy.
In an effort to celebrate the achievements and truly nonviolent spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr. and all the others who fought with him for a semblance of legally recognized human dignity and freedom, we designate at least one day every year to serving our communities with the same love King would have displayed.
But I have significant reservations about limiting our celebration to one day. If we are dedicated to nonviolent social change, it is absolutely necessary that we introduce love into our lives -- not affection, but “understanding, redemptive goodwill,” King calls it – on a regular basis until it entirely replaces any negative emotions. And pop culture just isn’t wired that way. Kids are taught growing up that to be strong means to be independently resilient, forceful, and assertive – that you need to learn to help yourself, because in the “real world,” no one else is going to help you.
This is why it is absolutely imperative to teach children from a young age that problems are not solved with violence and hatred. Consensus can only be reached with love.
So last week, a few AU students journeyed to Richardson Dwellings, a public housing project in Northeast DC. We worked with a group of elementary and middle school kids at their community center to read books and color pictures and plant a seed or two about great nonviolent leaders and the characteristics that made them immortal. They had some basic knowledge of the civil rights movement in America. None of them had heard of Gandhi.
Then three days later, twelve of those students piled into a van and came to Katzen Arts Center, in the snow, to paint a mural featuring Gandhi, Rosa Parks, MLK, and Nelson Mandela. One girl was particularly dedicated to her portrait. A volunteer complimented her artistic prowess, and asked her more about who she was painting. “Gandhi,” she responded. “He was a nonviolent leader in India against a huge kingdom. He spoke the truth.”
Nonviolence can be taught in the classroom, but it will never be fully understood until it is alive in our hearts. At the center of nonviolence stands the principle of love.
AU faces a lack of diversity
By Joe Gruenbaum
Last week’s day of service was one good way to commemorate the life of Martin Luther King. But his birthday should serve not only as a reminder of our individual commitments to helping those in need—“We are caught in inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny,” said King—but as an opportunity to reflect on the larger, institutional issues he addressed, namely equality and equal opportunity. For us, students at a predominately white, exclusive university, that means addressing the lack of diversity on campus.
This lack of diversity stems from the usual suspects—high minority poverty, failing inner city schools, persisting unconscious discrimination, a flood of applications from white north-easterners—but it is manifested in a different manner on our campus than on some. Not only do we lack racial diversity—only 4 percent of students identify as African American and 4 percent as Hispanic—but we are culturally homogenous. Many attending who identify as minorities come from middle-class or wealthy families. Some have lived in predominately white suburbia throughout their lives. Often, race is not a significant part of their identity, and the white noise of consumerism in our “post-racial” society has compounded this disconnect from individuality. Even many “international students” are simply Americans, raised in the shadow of gleaming golden arches and trademark brand-names selling themselves as coffee-houses.
The problem with a culture thusly compacted is that we no longer connect through our shared humanity but because we’ve lived in the same McWorld. Whether you’re from Hoboken, Long Island, Seattle, or Kansas City, when you say: “White Chocolate Mocha,” people know what you’re talking about. Middle class experiences are so homogenized by consumerism that diversity, and by extension individuality, ceases to exist.
Some of the problems of a lack of diversity on campus, then, can’t be solved completely by university policy. But pluralism is a must-have for any intellectual environment, and there are many practical steps that a college can take to increase minority enrollment. AU could send more admissions officers to inner-city schools. They could increase financial aid for low-income students and expand enrollment in the Frederick Douglass Scholars program. They could lower enrollment as a whole, making the school stronger and more selective, and yet at the same time more stringently pursue affirmative action.
When it comes to sexual orientation and gender, we are not only one of the most diverse in the country; we are one of the most accepting. Coming from a conservative state, I find myself deeply impressed by the kindness every student, no matter their political beliefs, shows those of a different sexual orientation than them. This happens, I think, mostly because we have so many gay/bi/trans students on campus; one can’t help but befriend someone of a different sexual orientation, learn about them, and in doing so gain the ability to empathize—to share in their common humanity.
To have the same opportunity with students from different races and socioeconomic backgrounds is equally important. But, unfortunately, our lack of campus diversity and the homogeneity of many of our students prevents us from connecting with those different from us.
Investigating diversity and identity
By Derek Siegel
Dr. King dedicated the latter part of his life to confronting racism, economic injustice, and the Vietnam War. These “problem[s]…are all tied together,” he declared in his 1967 speech Where Do We Go From Here?, “These are the triple evils that are interrelated.” His words inspired a nation, bringing to our attention visible issues like racial inequality but also lesser spoken of phenomena like social exploitation. Some people were uncomfortable with these topics. Yet Dr. King insisted that the only way to affect change would be to pose these provocative questions, repeating them and probing until we’ve arrived at the root of the problem. This is Dr. King’s legacy: looking past the perceptions we are most comfortable with. Only then, in this essential state of ambiguity, can we understand ourselves enough to make a change.
A spokesman for justice on behalf of all people, not only people of color, Dr. King’s efforts resonate with all of us who have ever been marginalized or oppressed. We mostly remember, however, his work towards racial equality, tending to forget his other, equally important contributions to our nation. It’s almost ironic, don’t you think? He was a man who implored us to transcend our pre-conceived notions, yet we embrace only a limited understanding of a very complex figure. In honor of Dr. King, I have set out to better understand his legacy on this very campus.
I began with an informal survey of 48 participants, posing the question: Do you think AU is diverse? 27 participants responded ‘yes’ and 20 said ‘no’. When I shared my results with Dr. Fanta Aw, Assistant Vice President of Campus Life and Director of International Student and Scholar Services (ISSS), and Tiffany Speaks, Director of Multicultural Affairs, it didn’t surprise them. “It raises new questions, such as how we define diversity,” Dr. Aw explains, “There’s much more to diversity than skin color.” Speaks adds,“There’s no quick definition to it, it’s often varied.” Dr. Aw indicates that this inclusive concept of diversity is a point of comfort for some students and a point of discomfort for those more accustomed to strict classifications.
Dr. Aw describes diversity as “what makes us human.” I love this explanation because she doesn’t glorify or deride the word; she states the obvious, that our identities make us who we are. We are influenced everyday by our family backgrounds, personal lifestyles, and cultural histories. Whether we are exceedingly conscious of or take for granted these identities, they shape our experiences. Speaks tells me that one of the greatest strengths of our community is that we “recognize and appreciate multi-layered identities. We’re redefining the boxes that people place us in.” You’re not simply gay or straight, Catholic or Jewish. Our identities combine and interact in ways that are completely unique to each individual. These collections of diverse identities are essential to life at AU. Dr. Aw explains, “a robust education affords students the opportunity to engage with different perspectives.” “Homogeneity in the classroom is not as enriching an experience,” Speaks confides.
Too often, however, we assume things about others that limit their ability to express a multi-dimensional identity. For example, in my survey I identified five categories of diversity: religion, race, sexual orientation, gender, and socio-economic background. I then asked participants to rank each category from most to least diverse, in terms of our student population. Participants ranked socio-economic background as the least diverse (37.8 percent). Dr. Aw explains to me that this socio-economic disparity on campus is partly ground in reality and part mere perception: “People come to me and say ‘all the students here are rich…except me.’ But they’d be surprised to see how many people there are that are like them.”
Brian Lee Sang, of the Provost’s Office, affirms our increasing socio-economic diversity: “Between 2009 and 2011, there has been over a 118 percent increase in the number of Pell eligible students who have enrolled at AU. In addition, the number of Pell grant recipients has nearly doubled from the 2008-2009 academic year to the 2011-2012 academic year.” With many of us too uncomfortable to engage in a dialogue about socio-economic differences, we make assumptions about one another that aren’t true, limiting our ability to express part of what makes us who we are.
But just because conversations about socio-economic diversity aren’t taking place doesn’t mean that diversity is taking a back seat at AU. Dr. Aw cites Living Learning Campus, the Table Talk series, strong General Education curriculums, and organizations like the GLBT Resource Center as proof that we are engaging in some of these tough conversations.
She goes on to explain that a dialogue about diversity requires a partnership “between the institution and its students.” AU can provide us with safe environments, but ultimately we will need to be the ones to have the courage to participate in sometimes-uncomfortable discussions. Returning to the legacy of Dr. King, we must begin to challenge our perceptions and challenge the norms of society. We must engage in meaningful discussion with our peers, and in doing so come to appreciate the multi-dimensional identities inside each of us.
