Two events this past week exposed the realities of racial divides on campus. In their aftermath, a forum, titled “Addressing Appropriation and the Power of Language,” brought hundreds of students to the Afro-American Cultural Center on Wed., Nov. 4. It gave students a platform to voice their experiences of exclusion at Yale.
The first incident occurred on Fri., Oct. 30 at 12:38 a.m., when Associate Master of Silliman College Erika Christakis sent Silliman students an email about oversensitivity towards cultural appropriation in the context of Halloween costumes. Later that Friday, students waiting to enter an open party at Sigma Alpha Epsilon heard a brother at the door announcing “white girls only.”
At the Af-Am House, Dean of Student Engagement Burgwell Howard began by outlining the goals of the discussion, which were to understand people’s stories, exchange ideas, and problem solve. Many shared moving testimonies of incidences of racism and misogyny that they have experienced throughout their lives and through their time at Yale. The talk at the House was a safe space for sharing, and any words printed here are done so only with the express permission of their speaker.
Wounds have been uncovered, exposed, and made raw. The forum at the House acknowledged that addressing these events is not the end of the road, not by a long shot.
People of color, especially women of color, do not feel safe at Yale—not just this week. It was that pervasive experience of exclusion that was constantly highlighted in the words of students who spoke at the Af-Am House. After Associate Master Christakis defended her email and devotion to freedom of speech, noting that in the “big bad world” the Constitution will ultimately protect people in the fight against racism, Naivasha Harris, SM ’16, responded, “This institution was not made for me. I am black and native. I am a woman. The government tried to kill off one half of me and enslave the other half, so I think it’s funny when Associate Master Christakis suggests that when I go out into ‘The Big Bad World’ that the U.S. government is there to protect me.” Though Associate Master Christakis was no longer in the room to hear Harris’ response, Harris’s point resonated with the audience that was present. More audible whoops and applause replaced the appreciative snaps that had underscored the first parts of her statement. Themes from Harris’s commentary were repeated throughout the evening: “This institution was not made for me,” “I am not safe.”
Many felt that the simple request to feel safe implicit in the original Intercultural Affairs Council email was undercut by Associate Master Christakis’ response. Micah Jones, TD ’16, stood up to address the purported “coddling” of oppressed peoples when they fight for a safe space. “When have black children ever been coddled?” she questioned. Snaps echoed around the room. “What we are asking from our community is to value us,” she continued. According to Jones, in labeling a safe space for people of color as “coddling,” individuals and institutions protect and maintain a safe space for privilege. Others echoed Jones’ points, noting the presence of Confederate flags on campus and returning to the image and name of John C. Calhoun. Native women relayed horror stories of thoughtless appropriation that they witnessed on campus daily, not just on Oct. 31.
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A safe campus culture requires the participation of all its members. A number of women who spoke emphasized the need for the acknowledgement and support of intersectionality at Yale. Kimberlé Crenshaw, a law professor at UCLA and Columbia, first established the term in 1989 to describe the overlapping experiences of oppressed groups—people of different identities experience varying and connected degrees of discrimination. She argues that white feminism and white liberalism are unproductive, since they pose as being supportive of but actually exclude women, and people, of color.
At the Af-Am House on Wednesday, women raised their voices, calling on white women, black men, anyone who hides behind liberalism to stand up with them and fight against the daily oppression they face at Yale. The many women who stood up at the Af-Am House on Wednesday already amount to more than a few isolated voices, but they cannot stand alone.
To effect the kind of change called for on Wednesday, Yale needs an army of allies—committed, effective, educated allies. In describing a good ally, Emily van Alst, SM ’16, who spoke at the Af-Am discussion said, “A good ally listens to the people they are supporting. And if they do decide to speak, they do not make it about themselves and their experiences…People need to ask us about our culture in a respectful way.” Ashia Ajani, TD ’19, who participated in the discussion at the Af-Am house from the Founder’s Room, outlined a similar template for an effective ally: “It’s really important to stop taking a passive stance. You need to start attending the rallies. Send out an email to Professor Christakis. Make sure you’re standing by your friends of color. Saying and pretending you know what racism is isn’t enough. I need to see the action behind it.” She continued, “If you are confused by something, Google it or read a book by a person of color, but reference it back to us. It’s great that you know what you’re talking about, but at the end of the day, we’re going to know more.” Ajani’s point is simple: raise your voice, but not so loud that it drowns out the people you’re allied with; educate yourself, but don’t pretend to be the expert.
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Moving forward, students of color want to see more than just increased awareness and sensitivity. That cultural change needs to be established as a part of how Yale educates, to ensure that future classes do not feel marginalized, and that their classmates develop an awareness of their privilege and the politics of inclusion.
Van Alst outlined what her vision of this necessary institutional change looks like. She wrote, “I would like to see more diverse faculty and staff, specifically Native women academics.” Her demands extend beyond the classroom. “I would like to see consistent funding to the Cultural Centers. I would also like to see adequate and specialized mental health services for Native Students and Students of Color.”
Ajani mentioned that since discussions with Dean Holloway on Cross Campus and President Peter Salovey, GRD ’86, on Thurs., Nov. 5, students have begun to find a more productive outlet for their conversations, translating experiences into collective action. “Things are looking better in terms of what the institution can do,” she said, but she still echoed many of the demands that were brought up on Wednesday. “People want information about who Yale will be hiring. People feel in the dark,” she said, noting her frustrations about the University’s struggle to retain faculty members of color. She posits that requiring a course in the African American Studies department, or Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, or even having an Asian American Studies department would attract and encourage faculty to stay, elevating demand for their courses and increasing attention to their academic discipline.
That education must begin before freshmen move-in day. Ajani supported an idea that was mentioned in the Founder’s Room on Wednesday that, like the alcohol training Think About It that students complete in the summer, there would be a racial sensitivity training for students before they come to campus. The Black Student Alliance at Yale is working to coordinate these calls for institutional change and the changes that individuals can make in their assumptions and relationships. As voiced by BSAY President Lex Barlowe, BR ’17, BSAY proposed what the Yale community needs to do in order to heal: black women request the support of black men, acknowledgement of injury from SAE and the Yale administration, establishment of a space to report discrimination, required reading of black feminist texts, and transparency in how masters are trained and appointed. These are concrete steps the Yale community can take, but they won’t become reality until the administration—which has the power to enact these measures—listens.
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On Thurs., Nov. 5, Dean Holloway stood before students on the Women’s Table, built to commemorate the 1979 arrival of women at Yale. Mostly, he listened to anger, pain, frustration. But he did speak and made a promise. “I’ll do better,” he said.
Holloway’s promise should be Yale’s promise. It is the simplified version of all of the demands repeated throughout the discussion at the House: do better. This campus can engage in dialogue about our first amendment right to freedom of speech. It can and should examine what it means to occupy positions of privilege and the responsibility of the privileged to educate themselves about the perspectives of those who don’t share their privilege. It can debate the merits and shortcomings of the Greek system on campus and how it wants Yale’s Greek organizations to respond to these and other reported incidences. What is not up for debate, however, what is not open to challenge, are the experiences of oppressed peoples on this campus. In many ways, this last week was unexceptional in that instances of insensitivity, aggression, and discrimination are common here. But now Yale has the exceptional opportunity to continue the conversation that these events ignited. Now it has to listen.