I feel the need to give you the back story to this. I’m taking a class right now that is all about oppression and activism. It’s an amazing class, in part because many of the most recognizable campus activists are in it this semester. And I was so excited that it fell on a Wednesday. In fact, secretly, it was the one thing I was looking forward to most about Day of Silence this year. I announced the day of silence events twice in class in the last week, and we watched a video in class last week in which June Jordan railed against all those people who will protest racism, but not homophobia. The timing was perfect.
I eagerly awaited class today, imagining the silence as those who most often participate were silent, hoping that for the first time in four years, I might have a class where I wasn’t one of a small handful in black, but part of a collective majority. I was so excited in fact, that I got there early. And as one after another they walked in chattering and wearing blue, pink, red, green, yellow clothing, my heart slowly sank. As I sat in class today, instead of taking notes, I wrote this.
An Open Letter to Student Activists at the University of Illinois
As I went through my day on this Day of Silence, I was profoundly sad. If people who call themselves anti-oppression, anti-chief, anti-racism, anti-sexism, against the racist, imperialist war on Iraq, or activists for justice and equality really were all those things, the whole campus should have been filled with people dressed in black the same way Foellinger was filled with people fed up with the racism, abuses of power, and unacknowledged privilege rampant on this campus. This was a singular opportunity to easily and visibly unite around a cause that affects members of all our communities, and it was missed.
I suppose it was naïve of me to have so much faith in other people. But these are not my enemies. These are MY people. They are my friends, my classmates, my, dare I say it, comrades in the struggle. They are those who nod in agreement when I question sexist attitudes, who smile and compliment my anti-chief t-shirt, who march with me when I protest the war. And I feel betrayed.
All that we asked was that you put on black clothing this morning. Silence was highly encouraged, but left to your discretion. And you chose not to participate. You chose not to take a stand against violence and oppression when doing so would have meant no inconvenience to you.
None of us is perfect, of course. We forget, we rush around without thinking, we get distracted. And if you were not aware of what today was, then I apologize. Our hours of chalking, hundreds of fliers, thousands of facebook ads and tens of profile pictures, our letters to the editor, weeks of quad tabling, and numerous class announcements went unnoticed.
But when such a huge proportion of a group shows such ambivalence, that is no accident. This speaks to me as the clearest evidence of what is wrong with this campus. Your complacency implicates you, and your silence on this issue speaks louder than the silence that we gave this campus today. And now, even as I am surrounded by those who chose to take a stand, I am profoundly sad.
In peace,
Bridget
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
Yeah. I feel you. And as much as I love Dr. McDuffie, I thought he completely dropped the ball and didn't mention it, even when calling on you during class. It was exactly what June Jordan said it was, and that sucked.
yeah, though he did apologize profusely for that after class and after I pointed it out. thanks for participating, eric (and everyone else who did : )!
Also, just to clarify, I know this goes in all directions. The only LGBT people I saw at Día Nacional de Acción last year were Latin@, and there were only about 30 people total at the protests this year on the anniversary of the start of the War on Iraq. But those are all things that could conceivable be explined with the "I had class/work" excuse. Wearing black is really easy to do.
Also, I've been exchanging with somone who didn't participate, asking her why and hearing that she was afraid to offend anyone in the community since she's straight and she's heard black people get angry when white people participate in their events. I challenged that and she agreed it's not good reasoning (being mad at allies), but that it is a reality. Anyway, (vegetarian) food for thought.
sigh, i felt it too.
I didn't see it on the quad. I didn't see it at McKinley. I didn't see it in the library. I didn't see it in my classes. And I SAW advertisements EVERYWHERE. I was jealous of your abilities to reach people on Tuesday night, eager to see the turnout the next day and disappointed in the lack of support on Wednesday.
it was, however, uplifting when I was in Ross' class for the panel. Lots of black.
lydia and i were at dia nacional de accion last year--last time i checked, neither of us are latina.
but i get what you mean--i tend to feel like even more of a minority than i already do on a daily basis simply because of the visibility the day of silence encourages (or lack of, in reality). instead of feeling empowered, i tend to feel (more) awkward and 'other' when i'm the only, or one of a handful, wearing black and keeping silent, just for one day a year.
i guess that's why it's called a struggle, right? not only from those who don't agree with you, but also with the ones that do.
Hey Bridget, it's Alex B. from the play/Feminist Majority.
I did participate in the day of silence, and although there weren't as many people participating, I did find it to be pretty powerful. It's the closest thing to impossible to have me keep my mouth shut, and I did it from 9 to 5. I talked to my professors about it, and they were really understanding. My English 250 professor wore black that day, and although she talked, she also knew not to call on me. The other teachers were warned in advance, and they were nice about it too.
I'm sorry you feel the way you do. It can be aggravating to have little participation.
If you'd like to check out my response to it, read my blog:
revelproductions.blogspot.com
Post a Comment