You have probably heard by now about the deeply disturbing racist incident that occurred in the Modlin Center just prior to spring break. As reported in The Collegian, a noose with a black doll was found hanging in the Cousins Studio Theatre, with writing about the death of art pasted on the floor below.
This is a space to air your personal concerns and thoughts as the campus community struggles to make sense and move toward a brighter future.
- What are your reactions to the news of a simulated lynching on our campus?
- What does it say about our campus that this happened here?
- What needs to happen for us to heal from this?
- What is your role in that process?
Finally, if you have information about related events, feel free to post them here.
Important Reminder: Tickets for The Meeting, the riveting play about a fictional meeting between Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr., are still available for the April 17, 18, and 19 productions at the Modlin Center. Don’t miss this opportunity to learn about, or revisit, this critical moment in our nation’s history.
Other useful links
Theatre and Dance responds
The significance of the noose
Glyn Hughes and Lisa Miles
Office of Common Ground
My first reaction is disbelief, because I don’t want to think I’m part of a community where such a hateful message is deemed acceptable by anybody. My second reaction is fright, because if somebody hates for a racist reason, they (or another person) could hate some difference about me and go after me, too. They might even be oblivious of their own hate and think it’s somehow a “good” thing. Then, I feel discouraged because I have tried to be an active part of social progress my whole life and this action is one I would have expected 20 or 40 years ago in America, not now. In spite of some social and political changes toward an inclusive society, I read the “model from the top” of our university and our country as “we’re all for (token?) fairness and diversity, but it’s really best if straight, white men stay in control of the important things.” It’s tempting to just withdraw and “stay below the radar,” at least for awhile…My hope is that our young people will have the passion and energy to continue the fight for a just and compassionate society.
Police seeking information. Contact Lt. Adrienne Meador Murray at ameador@richmond.edu or leave anonymous information by visiting the Silent Witness page at: http://oncampus.richmond.edu/administration/police/witness.htm
I am appalled, discouraged, wounded and hurt by the black faced doll that was hung by a noose and by the way our campus has responded to it. This is not an isolated incident. It is a culminating act resulting from the daily subtle bias that exists at UR. What is most disturbing to me about this act is how much it reveals about our comfort level with the “status quo.” I’ve heard many people of color say “I’m not surprised” and that reveals to me how much bias is tolerated on a daily basis. I’m also aware of times when I suspected that something was racist or sexist and the community’s message to me was “It’s not something to make a big deal of. Play nice.” Over the last week, I’ve heard several white people say that it’s only the few “bad seeds” that are making things difficult racially. This too makes me think of how comfortable we are with the status quo. Underneath these comments, I hear the message that besides these blatant acts of hate, everything has been quite fine. I disagree. Things have been bad, really bad and getting worse. There are people on this campus (people of color, women, the LGBT community, lower class individuals, people with low rank, differently abled people, people teaching about diversity, people who are not Christian etc.) who are disempowered, voiceless, marginalized, discriminated against every day. It does not seem that it is a priority yet for our campus to protect people in these groups. I have seen the pictures of several black men in our school newspaper or sent out via e-mail when they have been perceived as a threat to the white community. These men were publicized immediately as rapists, thieves, wife beaters — a danger to all. Yet, police intervention and public communication were deliberately delayed in this noose incident. Rather than move quickly to protect those who are most vulnerable when someone in black face or an antisemitic comment threatens the minority groups on campus, it was decided that it was more important to think things through before taking action. Public outrage has been used to relinquish any personal responsibility for making our community a better place. We have yet to figure out how to dismantle the processes, procedures and norms that uphold bias on our campus. Until we all acknowledge how far we have yet to go, we will never truly be an inclusive campus.
PLEASE HELP US LEARN TO LIVE DIVERSITY
I think it’s important to point out that the Department of Theatre and Dance did anything BUT “relinquish any personal responsibility,” by confronting their departmental community of students, faculty and staff about what happened in their space, IMMEDIATELY when students and faculty returned from spring break. They took responsibility for the fact that this cowardly and racist display was likely perpetrated by a member of their community; and they made it very clear that regardless of the message on the floor (”Art is Dead”) it could only be interpreted as racist, and clearly constituted hate speech.
More importantly, the theatre community began discussions on how their department could lead our campus in living diversity — not talking about it — but striving to BE inclusive by consciously altering their individual and collective behaviors each and every day.
I acknowledge, and so did they, that they may not know how to to go about this. It’s hard and must be intentional work. Can Common Ground help articulate and guide us what “living diversity” means in terms of our day to day behavior.
Hi Kathy,
Thank you for offering these facts. I commend the Theatre and Dance department for naming the display a “racist act” especially since I am aware of people on campus who are either skeptical that it was racist or adamant that it was only an act of artistic expression. I am also encouraged that the theatre community discussed ways to respond to daily bias which is often subtle. However, it seems that at the same time as this act was named to be a hate crime, it was not treated as a hate crime. The display was found on March 5th and a police report was not filed until March 31. This makes me ask some questions: Has anyone taken responsibility for not calling the police? Has that person been called to the president’s office to answer for the decision? And what about the time it took to inform the campus that this racist act had occured? This act did not just taint the sacred safe space of the theare and dance department, it threatened the safe space of the entire campus. Whoever put up the noose was free to roam the entire campus not just theatre and dance department space. Who decided when the entire campus needed to be alerted? Has anyone admitted that some wrong turns have been made? I don’t ask these questions to demonize whoever made the decisions but to reveal the ways in which I’ve noticed our talk not lining up with our walk. I know UR can do better. I would not spend as much of my time working to build community if I didn’t have hope for what our campus could be. However, I must admit that the more I see our campus falling short of what it says it is committed to, the more hope I lose for our future. We need institutional change which requires action not just from students but also from staff, faculty and upper administration. It requires redesigning how we do business in order to remove exclusionary and discriminatory procedures and processes. It means valuing people on campus who are working for change. Rather than honoring these influential, creative and innovative individuals, time after time I’ve seen them leave UR unacknowledged or disgraced. Yet, I see people who are unaware of their biases and uninvolved in the dialogue about making UR more inclusive, elevated to positions of power and authority. We desperately need to change our institutional practices. I think it’s wonderful that the Theatre and Dance department named the situation and pushed people to consider their roles in making things better but I also think our campus has much further to go.
An Invitation for Students to Connect with White Allies
In light of recent campus events, are you looking to connect with white allies on
campus? Are you searching for what you can do to support people of color and foster an inclusive community? Do you wonder why there aren’t more white allies? The Multicultural Student Union invites you to Refusing Racism, a student conversation about what it means to be a white ally and how we can better support people of color and each other. If you already identify as a white ally, we’d love to hear about your journey and motivations and any advice you can give to those who are interested in becoming allies. If you’ve just become ready to stand up to racism, we look forward to helping you find ways to get involved. Join us from 6:30-8 PM on Monday, April 14 in the Richmond Room (downstairs in d-hall). Bring your tray down for dinner– and we’ll provide the food for thought! Please e-mail me(allison.speicher
@richmond.edu) with any questions.
I’m responding to Kathy Panoff’s question: “Can Common Ground help articulate and guide us [in] what ‘living diversity’ means in terms of our day to day behavior”?
My immediate answer is YES. We’re happy to work with anyone (individuals or groups) who wants to deepen their understanding of diversity and inclusion. So please contact us if that describes you, since I think a discussion about your particular concerns could be really useful.
Shifting from what Common Ground can do, I also want to respond in a slightly more personal way. To me, the question of how to live inclusive diversity on a daily basis is huge. It’s like asking, “How can I be a loving person?” In fact, I think it’s pretty related to that question.
You can observe and seek advice from role models. And that can help. You can make a point of reading books and taking classes. And that can help too.
Ultimately, though, the answer comes from your *determination* to really do it. If you wake up every day by challenging yourself with that question, you will find a way—and there are many ways to be sure.
Wise people or books can guide you along, but in the end, we make the road by walking it. So there is no roadmap, no comprehensive checklist of daily activities. Sorry to disappoint!
All that said, here are a few of the principles that I try to put into practice myself. Word of caution: some of these points include ideas or concepts that might be unfamiliar to you. If that’s the case, no problem, but do let me know since, as I’ve said, I’d enjoy the opportunity to discuss these issues with you.
· I try to always think about which perspectives are present in a discussion and which are not. Then I try to ask hard questions about why certain perspectives are missing and do everything I can to bring those perspectives to the table. I try to notice patterns of exclusion and then ask hard questions of the social systems and attitudes that perpetuate those patterns.
· I strive to make empathy my first response (not always easy!), especially when someone or a group of people feels harmed or unsafe.
· I try to insist on meaningful, productive dialogue, to not shy away from talking about the difficult stuff (again, a real struggle!).
· I strive to understand and interrogate my own privilege (as white, as male…) and I try to make it normal to talk about privilege on individual and systemic levels.
· “Remember,” I tell myself, “this is an imperfect, long-haul process. The means are the ends.” If I am really determined to pursue an answer to the question, I have to let go of the comforting idea that it is possible to figure it all out, to know for sure that what I’m doing is always right.
· Whenever it is strategically appropriate, I make the case for diversity as an essential aspect of excellence.
I’m very interested to hear from others, because I know there is a lot of wisdom out there, and I’ll guess that my ideas raised even more questions.
What are your thoughts or questions about how to live diversity and inclusion?
I admit that it’s difficult to understand racism, because I grew up colorblind. Even in my small town of Winchester, I had friends from different cultures and backgrounds, but it didn’t really dawn on me that they may have looked different or were a different skin color until I got older. My background makes it difficult for me to understand how people see in such stark contrast, and why they behave with malice towards others, so I have to try to make myself reason with these ugly forces.
Dr. Martin Luther King, in his famous “I have a dream” speech, said that one day he dreamed that people would not be judged solely on the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. Students and faculty on this campus that may have a difficult time seeing past color should look deeper into Dr. King’s words. The character of a person bespeaks of their works, and determines how society will perceive and judge them. In truth, we are all judged (not a live or die kind of judgement, but a “what kind of person are you” judgement) every time we make a move, because we live among thousands of people in Richmond. Skin color is like looking at the outside of a book–you just don’t know what’s inside until you take a look at the inside and get to know it.
Racism is born of fear of the unknown or an unwillingness to accept change. Chances are, people don’t like what they don’t know. If your friend tells you they don’t like deer meat, for example, you ask, “Have you tried it?” Your friend responds, “Well…noo..” Then how do they know? (I enjoy venison, so this happens to me all the time, btw.)
A heavier example is WWII and the Nazi party’s extermination of Jewish people during the Holocaust. The years and days leading up the the beginning of the Holocaust were confusing and frightening for all people living in the affected areas. In the documentary “A Nazi Officer’s Wife,” a Jewish woman who took a non-jewish name to survive, becoming the wife of a Nazi officer, tells her story of living in Vienna. She says that the people were agitated, given the opportunity to turn their agitation and unrest on the Jews, they took it wholeheartedly. She says that she was so hurt and heartbroken that the people she had lived with all her life in this city just turned against her. She says that she thought they had hated us for a long time, but never had the opportunity to show it. By government order, they were allowed to take Jewish businesses, possessions, homes, valuables–and she says that she wasn’t surprised they took it. It *was* being given away, she rationalized.
Fear of the unknown, coupled with an environment that harbors fear, creates a terrifying animal that waits to strike. So long as discussion remains open, people are educated about these issues and what they can do to change, and the University remains committed to a stance that racism will not be tolerated, I think that progress has been made. Will the fear that some people still harbor exist? Yes. Will there be questionable incidents in the future? Most likely yes. People’s hearts don’t change overnight, so it takes a committed community of people, like those that posted in this forum, to make sure that that fear is dispelled.
I live in Jackson Ward, in Downtown Richmond. If anyone should be fearful of their neighbors, it should be me. However, I don’t judge the people in my neighborhood by their skin color–it’s just not right. What I do notice is if they swagger, look high, walk aggressively, etc. Even in a predominantly black neighborhood, I don’t give myself the opportunity to be prejudiced. I will judge someone by the content of their character, I will love my neighbor, and I refuse be afraid. There is no ugly animal in my heart, waiting to strike. As a student at the University, I think that this is simply part of my responsibility as a student.
I am both saddened and sickened by this incident. I am currently student teaching in a high school with a large African American population and it frightens me that these students who I’ve grown to care so much about could be confronted with that kind of twisted, irrational hate in 2008. I am proud that UR is not laughing this off as an “inappropriate” joke.
Dear Rachel,
Thank you for your post and for sharing what I can tell is your sincere desire to live in a world free of racism and prejudice. I agree that prejudice is often borne from the fear of our differences. However, I don’t agree with you that being “colorblind” is a helpful solution to our problems.
Acting as if there are no differences between the races negates the different life experiences of members of marginalized groups from those in the privileged majority. While the intention of a colorblind ideology is to see members of these groups as “equal” to majority members, which of course they are, the effect can be to ignore the very real differences in treatment, opportunities, protections under the law, etc. with which members of those groups live.
So as Glyn said above, being willing to develop a true empathy for the experience of people of different races, sexual orientations, etc. is the first step towards living inclusively. It is not enough to “do no ill” to people who are different than us, or to try hard not to see their differences, we must ask ourselves how well we understand what it would be like to walk in their shoes. What is it like to be the only person of color in every one of your classes at the University? What is it like to be a faculty member of color going up for tenure if there are no people of color evaluating your work? What is it like to fall in love if you are gay and you don’t know if you will ever have the right to marry?
This is the work that I, as a majority member, must commit to doing. It is hard work. And it makes us have to confront just how discriminatory our world can be. But for me, it is an important step towards living inclusively.
I, too, welcome comments and suggestions from others about what living inclusively means to you.
Lisa,
The term “colorblind” can be taken two ways, and depending on the person, can be interpreted differently as well. When I say that I’m colorblind, I mean that I accept everyone as they are without needing to categorize them as a race, culture, or creed. That doesn’t mean that those things don’t matter to me, but I don’t take them into account when I’m in a new place making friends or something like that. Skin color may be important to a person and what makes them who they are, but it’s not something that I will judge a person on at first glance.
Colorblind could also be taken to mean that one wants everyone to be the same, and that peoples’ individual characteristics don’t matter. That’s one way to take it, although I don’t agree with it.
An entity like the federal government would probably also have a different definition of what “colorblind” is, and is probably closely related to “equal opportunity” or something like that.
You raise an interesting point, and I certainly will take some time to think about the term and what it means to me. And unless it’s already been done, that would make a fantastic research paper.