The same university that made a commitment in their strategic plans and ad hoc policies to fulfill the ‘promise’ removed signage that was implemented to welcome individuals whose ancestors were denied entry and education based on historical accounts, at an institution that sits upon the stolen land of Black and Indigenous communities.
The removal of signs was a reminder that at some point, individuals accepted the ‘effort,’ but the institution and its players never intended to change or protect the campus community that was supposed to provide a form of ‘freedom.’
Higher education’s challenges are not new. We still gripe and write reports on the decline of student enrollment, increasing tuition, affordability, retention, and the state of historically silenced identities on campus that experience the aforementioned in addition to lacking a sense of belonging on campus. However, with recent legislation and silence, I wonder what promises were fulfilled and not.
What about the promise to provide funding for populations and identities that history chose not to acknowledge because of their race, national origin, gender, sexual orientation, religious affiliation, socioeconomic status, disability, etc?
The promise to ensure an opportunity to create the career of one’s dreams or the right to learn, explore and challenge hard truths of the world with the right to fight back? What about the promise of an education that would bring on tomorrow and its challenges as we equipped students who would change the world? What about the promises made each graduation season as speakers douse the mic with reminders to “work hard and go far,” “never give up,” “you are the future,” “each of you will change the world,” “the world needs you,” and countless quotables that inspire those who can actually believe it.
Many of us knew these speeches did not always include our narratives and challenges. We knew well before the speakers bellowed these words, these institutions did not speak for all of us. We knew the representation on marketing materials did not reflect the demographics in the classrooms. We knew, when courses that reflected our cultures were not taught by the ones who held the identities. We knew when the courses that fostered community and amplified voices were cancelled, even with high interest and enrollment. We knew when anti-DEI legislation rose to the top of priority lists but broken systems were hidden or ignored. We knew when diversity, equity, and inclusion roles and departments were closed, while lousy leadership received raises. We knew then we were not a part of the promise, unless it increased rankings and revenue.
What happened to those promises?
These recent actions dim the lights that once made this university a safe place for some, while creating hell for others. Constituents watched as messaging was released, complying with harmful ideologies and practices.
Leaders did not just ‘sunset’ diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI), they ripped away and destroyed a community, a purpose, an action plan for justice, and correction to historical trauma. This decision confirmed higher education’s desire to return to ‘darkness.’ This darkness (sunsetting of DEI), is where problematic policies are conjured, deceit and silence are welcomed and where accountability goes unenforced.
Remember, this was an opportunity to resist and have a positive role in history to get it right and not displace communities, again. Even with clear signs indicating these choices are harmful, leadership, along with others at colleges and universities, moved forward with intention — the intention to comply with the law and government policies.
This was a choice to disregard the same people and identities, again, over 50 years later.
What will be the apology or promise now? Will it be stated that this time, no ‘physical displacement’ of people took place? Will the response be that the institution followed the law, but failed to recognize how doing so displaces the forgotten, disabled, queer, Black, brown, international, first-generation, parents, veterans, low-income, unhoused and multiple unprotected intersecting identities by doing so?
Will the promise, apology or silence restore the grants, research funding, scholarships, access to loans (noting the immense debt that occurs), educational opportunities, career development or cultural graduation recognition for families that were cut?
Hoping for the best, but expecting nothing, unfortunately, I realise there is one promise that seems to always be fulfilled — it’s the promise that the same experiences, expectations, and privileges in leadership will make decisions that will displace the same people, pain, and resistance that power has always tried to silence.
Never overpromise and underdeliver.
Take care,
#DEIHomegirl
