Course Reflections

Below are brief reflections about Public Scholarship from the African American Studies students who have been working and learning together over the last semester in order to create this digital space. Spring 2020

Eliza Tesch

In AFAM 399, I felt like a part of the AFAM community for the first time. In this course I met peers who inspire me and can match the passion that I have for learning and for social justice, and had a professor (Dr. Brackett) who cares deeply about the success of all of her students but at the same time pushes us to do our very best work. Without AFAM 399, my semester would most likely have gone very differently. This class was my only class this semester that actually met (virtually) every day we were scheduled to meet, and our (often very lively) class discussions made my day every time. Even virtually, the passion came through from my peers, and we discussed the pandemic, our readings, and current events. Working on the Public has been an incredibly rewarding experience, and I am very proud of what I and my classmates have created. I got to flex my writing muscles while writing about the topics I am most passionate about, and discovered that writing is something I really enjoy and want to pursue further. In summary, the most impactful part of this course has been the community. We have gone on this journey of adjusting to virtual life and school together, and supported each other through this process. This group of people truly give me hope for all of humankind, because if everyone could be as kind, inquisitive, and determined as my 399 class the world would be in great shape. 

Emma Piorier

Participating in AFAM 399 has been transformative. In many ways, the application of the theoretical to our everyday, our campus, our language and the world around us, challenged me to engage in the work of critical social justice in new contexts and broadened my understanding of concepts of justice, power, oppression, community and activism. Through this course and our engagement with Patrica Hill Collins I have grown a comprehension of the larger work I am doing in African American Studies and the context in which it exists within. I have fostered a sense of certainty in my desire to work with theories of public scholarship be it through teaching,writing or speaking outside of the borders of academia. I have felt challenged by my peers, awakened by my classroom and trained to examine the nuances and presence of power and positionality in seemingly small instances of the everyday. I will take these lessons with me throughout my life.

George Jackson

I am very thankful to have taken AFAM 399, Public Scholarship. There are very few classes where I can use what I was taught and put that into immediate use in my life. I took AFAM 399 as part of the African American Studies major not knowing what to expect. Public Scholarship has allowed me to understand the complexities of different issues throughout many different points of view. I have been able to better understand some of the situations I face on a daily basis. Such as thinking about the privileges of those who are not in the minority like myself. As a black male on a predominantly white campus, I do not have the luxury of seeing people who look like myself on a day to day basis. This course has allowed me to gain a better understanding of the power dynamics that occur because of race. I am very appreciative of Dr. Brackett, as well as my peers, for the effort and the relationships I have built through the course.

Isaac Sims-Foster

AFAM 399, for me, was the perfect way to reconnect with a campus that I’ve felt increasingly distant from. After my semester abroad in Namibia, learning about and grappling with the first-hand effects of oppression and racism, I feared that returning to campus would leave me feeling empty; like there was no place for what I had learned to be applied outside of my major. 399 quickly reminded me of how precious social justice oriented education is, precisely for the reason that it circumvents the cultural, political, and societal differences between nations. I found myself again engaging with complex curriculum that elevated my understanding of systemic oppression inherent in our global society’s structures and reconceptualized knowledge as so much more than just what’s published by a university press. The internal and external critical thinking I learned and practiced in Namibia continued seamlessly in AFAM 399, which to me proves the power of social justice literacy and education. AFAM 399 taught me that knowledge has no borders.

Makenna Hess-Fletcher

AFAM 399 taught me the importance of speaking not only to the institution, but to the public. This class reaffirmed the reason I am an African American Studies major, as African American Studies majors do the work!  Creating access to information and resources is ingrained in the work that African American studies majors do. Not only are we scholars but we are neighbors, friends, community members and public scholarship is used to connect these worlds. Through the creation of the digital publication “The Public” I learned that I am capable of partaking in public scholarship even as I continue to work towards my academic goals, that I don’t have to be finished with school to start the work.

Monica Schweitz

This year, I was grappling with a difficult internal dialogue. Several experiences and interactions over the summer and fall of 2019 had made me doubt my choice of major and, on the precipice of graduation, I was beginning to panic. At first, AFAM 399, with its flexible class structure, its relative informality and intimacy of discussion, and the passionate and sometimes vulnerable style of participation it encouraged, for lack of a better word, confused me. This was unlike any other class that I had taken. Was this “academic?” It just felt like honest conversation amongst friends about connections between a text and our lived experiences. But one day, during a discussion on Patricia Hill Collins’ ideas of power and “props,” my perception shifted. I realized that I had been confusing “academic” for dry and dispassionate. My education prior to (and sometimes throughout) college had primed me to accept only that which is written in a textbook as valid knowledge. Burdensome and disinteresting became equated with academic rigor. AFAM 399 changed that for me. Having, sharing, and listening to personal experiences are not just valuable forms of learning, they are, I would argue, the most valuable forms of learning when it comes to the type of learning that precipitates social change. So, of course it is passionate, vulnerable work. That doesn’t mean it’s not scholarship. This realization has left a significant impact on me and is something that I will take with me throughout the rest of my education both in and out of the classroom.

Serena Sevasin

In taking AFAM 399, I have been able to take time to more critically analyze information through the ways in which I validate, process, and share it with others in public spaces. Being a natural skeptic, it was validating to learn that not everything that is shared in masses equates to being legitimate knowledge. This course has helped me expand on what authenticity is, where it comes from, and what authenticity looks like for me. I have been most impacted by the creation of The Public, a publication that has allowed me to expand on my narratives, and more importantly realize just how much they matter. I have had the opportunity to use a column to deconstruct structures of power from a personal lens, and more importantly how to articulate them in ways the everyday student and myself can understand. I find myself grateful for the experience of taking Public Scholarship, and more so knowing the mediums I can utilize to share and expand on information I obtain and experience from other places.

Sofia McLaren

Continuing in this major and specifically in this course (AFAM 399), I have become more confident in my voice. The learning I have done has helped me understand that I can contribute in a meaningful way. We have confronted the topic of positionality which helped each of us realize where we stand in the class, the conversation, and the world. This class has also given me the ability to ask questions I never would have asked. I have stopped taking situations for granted, I am constantly asking myself questions about what happened, why it happened, what could have happened, or what should have happened. I have learned the importance of acknowledging that your perspective is unique to you and cannot be taken for granted. There is no umbrella perspective in this world, each and every person experiences things differently. On a more surface level, this class has also given me the ability and confidence in creating and asking questions. I have always thought I was no good at creating thought-provoking questions that sparked deep discussions; however, because of the weekly questions we had to create and the discussion we had to lead I am more confident in my ability to help people engage critically with materials. This class has also given me general confidence in the decision I have made to major in African American studies. I won’t lie, switching my major was a relief in some ways and scary in others. I knew the classes were engaging and rewarding for me, but it was the outside voices that made it hard. My parents and friends were very supportive, but I got push back from some of the older people in my life, questioning the relevance of the topic and calling it too narrow of an area of study. This course has been an immense solidifying factor for me, it has shown me over and over again the relevance, importance, and necessity of what I have chosen to study. We can not aspire to “check the race box,” we need to live continuously conscious and responsive lives.  

Rachel Lorentz

Going into my Public Scholarship class, knowledge found in academia and “the real world” seemed like two completely separate things to me. Throughout this course, I have learned that Public Scholarship is where the rubber meets the road in academia. It focuses on how to make knowledge created in academia accessible to the public in a way that is useful and understandable to us all. Without Public Scholarship, the impacts of higher education would never reach those who are not fortunate enough to be in academic spaces.

Moose Abdirahman

I am very appreciative of this course, my peers gave me a new insight in life and in my community here at the University of Puget Sound. I have enjoyed creating accessible information and content, not only to show our growth and passions about African American Studies but also to build connectivity amongst each other in the midst of this pandemic. AFAM 399 has really widened my understanding of social justices, and black feminism. I enjoyed the structure of the class and how it prompted critical thinking and empowered a deeper understanding of our own experiences.

One Final Assignment: This is your Seventeen-Years Moment, Celebrate it!

Written and Spoken by Professor LaToya T. Brackett

Listen to this letter in audio form. Be sure to open in a new tab, to read along.


A Prelude: I love being a professor, at times I loathe being both a professor and an empath, and a trained counselor. I loathe it because I often pick up on things that many of my colleagues do not, or if they do, the intentionality of responding is not always there. I loathed seeing my students on virtual classes after our spring break. But mostly, I loathed seeing the removal of joy in my seniors. And as professors, we all did, I am sure. But at moments I would feel the depression they had, and their removal of excitement—excitement that had been building and worked towards for seventeen years, and some change. It was gone—almost. And I couldn’t allow that. So I sat down to write this letter to you all.

My Dearest Class of 2020,

The reality is… these are moments you will remember.

Since childhood you’ve thought about what college you would attend. What friends you would make. Wondering what you would major in. Places you would go for breaks. The type of freedom you would feel away from home. And most likely, you dreamed about what it would be like to walk across that stage, with your cap and gown, in front of your families and friends. The moment you knew would represent seventeen years of schooling, seventeen years of homework, seventeen years of being tested, seventeen years of new friendships, broken friendships, and forever friendships. Seventeen years of awesome teachers, teachers that did the best they could, teachers who changed your life, teachers you would like to forget, and teachers you can’t wait to tell, “I did it!” For many of you, college has been a part of your future since you knew what a future was.

Well guess what, that future is now.

Those seventeen years of yearning are coming to a close. Unfortunately, your culminating moment comes in a time of crisis, of uncertainty, of quarantine, of social distancing in a time where social over-exaggeration is THE requirement, you are in a pandemic—Covid-19. And this virus, that has no vaccine, or guaranteed cure, is out there removing your seventeen years of accumulated joy. And we have come to know that the only cure for this vaccine, is to have patience, perseverance, unknown health strength, and perhaps quite a bit of luck;

My Professorial last assignment to you, is CELEBRATE.

That’s right, I’m assigning you more homework. You thought you were finished. Well you’re not. I reserve the right to alter the syllabus at any time (professor humor, I know you might not be laughing). This assignment is required, it is not extra credit. Because this is a moment you will remember. I won’t allow any incompletes, because This. Is. The. Moment.

I know many universities are doing their best to prepare in-person graduation celebrations for the class of 2020 in the future—we still don’t know what the future looks like—so these celebrations (like the one at our university) are slated for a year after your original graduation date. And this is wonderful, it really is, and I hope all of you get to participate in that moment. But trust me, that moment, one year later, is not your Seventeen-Years moment. It will be a great moment indeed, but not like the one you are in right now. This pandemic-moment that you knocked out of your way to finalize those requirements for your college degree, is your Seventeen-Years-and-a-Pandemic moment. No one else has had a moment like this, and trust and believe no one has had a final semester/quarter of college like this. You are the novel graduation class of 2020 (sorry perhaps I shouldn’t use a pun so soon… but it is the truth). You spent seventeen years (and some of you, seventeen and some change, and you better know it doesn’t matter, the degree does), reaching for the same moment your friends from the class of 2019 had, your parents from the class of (they won’t tell you), because they showed you pictures or you joined in their pictures of their moment, and it was joyous. It was extreme social over-exaggeration, and they loved it and you yearned for one more year to get yours. Well, guess what, compared to their years, yours probably still feels like… To Be Determined…

My assignment to you is to be determined to make your moment positively memorable.

I remember my Seventeen-Years moment. I remember all of it. The good and the bad—but my bad came on suddenly with no warning, my bad couldn’t have been altered into an outlook of “damn, I finished those classes online, in quarantine, with uncertainty, and now I’m getting that paper. King, Kong ain’t got nothing on me,”—moment.

The reality is, I remember all of my graduations, high school, college, and graduate school. And the reality is, my moments were not so great. I did not always feel like some of the members of my family were there to cheer me on. At two of those graduations there were moments they proved my worries were right. I could tell you the torrid details of those moments, because guess what they are memorable, even more so, because they were in my Seventeen-Years-type of moments. But I won’t. I will tell you what I know to be true because of those sad memories.

I remember my joy before the unfortunate moments.

I remember my walk from the Arts quad, behind the Pan African flag with my friends to the field, where they told us to stand and move our tassel from one side to the other and we were thus graduated. I remember who I sat next to. I remember the people I greeted for the very last time ever. I remember trying so hard to find my best friends, but our Seventeen-Years moments were happening at the very same time and their Seventeen-Years moment cheerleaders socially overexaggerated around them. And I got pictures with each of them separately. But the day before we got one good picture before the amazing storms of celebration and joy that descended on our campus on the hill. I remember moments like this for my doctoral graduation as well, different type of level, different type of joy, but good memories. And for me, to still remember the great in those moments, when the bad still makes me wish for a do-over, means you can make your Seventeen-Years moment count too. And guess what, you already know what the worst aspect of it will be—all things covid-19.

I wanted a do-over of my moments, and there will never be one. I could attempt to put on my cap and gown today and walk across that stage, but all the energy that led up to when I earned my degrees, are no longer tingling and itching to get out. I worry that a year from now, my graduating students will no longer have that tingling and that itching, and walking across that stage will simply be protocol. And the reality is, the class of 2020 is beyond protocol. So, despite the reality that we must quarantine in your Seventeen-Years moment, be creative and celebrate like you never would have thought before.

We are all virtual now. That teacher from the 5th grade that told you how great you were at math, and gave you the confidence to fall in love with numbers and equations, can be at your virtual celebration. The professor that made you realize that you wanted to study something that you were excited about, can be there. Your grandparent who can’t travel anymore, can be there. Your friends from all over can pop in to say congratulations at any time. People you met on your study abroad to Ghana can be a witness too. So be creative.

I spoke about that tingling and itching you have right now to be finished with school, to have your university bequeath that you have met the requirements for your degree, and I wish to speak about it again. Don’t let go of it, not quite yet. Don’t let your worries about the world delete this feeling. Not until you’ve done the things that you always thought you’d be doing in celebration of this Seventeen-Years moment.

I’d like to share a story about one of you seniors. A senior told me she hadn’t taken any senior pictures. When I asked her for a picture to put up for our department’s virtual graduation celebration to recognize her, she felt she was falling short. She felt like, her picture she sent was not good enough for her graduation recognition moment. And that was an honest feeling. And I reminded her, this is the moment you have been waiting for, for a long time. She, like me is first generation, and she spoke about how her entire family was looking forward to her moment, because as many of us First Gens know, our success is a collective success. She was still living on campus while taking virtual classes, and I told her to go take her senior pictures. That’s right. I told her go get dressed up, and capture some memories. I suggested she ask one of her classmates in my course to help her—I knew just the right person with just the right amount of positivity in this uncertain time to make her senior pictures moment fun. And I told her, “no one is on campus, and no one will be looking at you funny as you pose—however you wish to pose.”

She took those pictures. She told me thank you. She told me her family was so excited to see her senior photos. She said it felt like she finally had a sense of closure on campus. 

I’m glad I gave her an assignment. I’m glad she embraced it. Because now I am embracing my role to share with the class of 2020, that this moment is memorable, and it will be remembered. How do you wish to remember it?

Assignment Title: Class of Covid-19

Assignment Prompt: You are the class of 2020, and in a decade or so you will probably be referred to as the Class of Covid-19. I hope you will embrace it, as it reiterates how amazing you truly are. But it is not yet a decade from now. For my students, May 17, 2020 was the date you were to participate in the official commencement ceremony on our campus. As of March 23, 2020, you found out that in-person commencement was postponed, and it will be held one year from now.

The first part of this assignment is to respond to the following questions:

  1. What were you most looking forward to for commencement?
  2. What things did you plan to do prior to commencement in preparation for it? (ex: buy a new outfit, get a fresh haircut, figure out how your hair would fit under that cap, buy a pair of shoes that your family could see from the stands, decorate your cap, send thank you cards to family, friends, professors, remind your family to purchase the cake that says “you did it!”, take senior pictures, grab a meal with your closest friends, send out invitations, look at yourself in the mirror and say “I made it.”)
  3. What things did you plan to do after your commencement ceremony? (ex: go out to dinner with family, have dessert, go to a party with friends, pack up all your stuff to move out, take pictures with your family, friends, and favorite professors, bask in the joy, shed a few tears at the bitter sweet, try not to worry about what’s next, experience the now.)

Secondly, now that you have responded to these questions, highlight the things you STILL CAN DO. Remember be creative. Enlist your family and friends for help. Brainstorm. Use all of those critical thinking skills you gained in your college career, and after seventeen years of homework, don’t let this one be late.

Congratulations to the unique, novel, resilient, determined, unapologetically celebratory, college class of 2020.

Sincerely,

Professor Brackett

P.S.

As a professor of African American studies, as a first generation student, as an African American woman, who never knew she’d be where she is today, as the graduate who worried about how her family would be able to afford the trip from Virginia to New York and later Michigan, as the sometimes three-job-having college student who worried how to afford my cap and gown, my new dress, my hair style, and the gas to drive myself back to Virginia, as the granddaughter of a grandparent who was incapable of walking from the stadium to north campus, as the black girl with a middle name she worried wouldn’t be pronounced correctly, as the First Gen who knew she would have to translate all the college speak for her family, as the dream and the hope of the slave, as the code switcher, as the girl who would tell people she graduated with honors from Cornell University and would often receive tones of congratulations that have the sound of surprise… It would be disrespectful of me to close out this letter without speaking for those often unheard.

I see you. I know that your future narratives from childhood don’t always look like what our society tells us it should. Your families may never have spoken about college. You may not have a family. Your seventeen years of schooling may not have looked like what our society defines as average, and this often means you are above average, but no one ever told you that. They told you something was wrong with you, they told you graduating from college probably wouldn’t happen. They said you would never make it. But you did. And this is why I get a tingling when I see you all, those often unseen, walk to commencement through our line of cheers as your proud professors. I get overly excited to see your joy. Your moment is most precious to me. So precious that I gladly wear my regalia each year, hat included, and sit as they read your names, and stay on campus until the tent of refreshments has no one left to refresh. I’m happy to hold the camera and get many photos of your entire crew in one image, or I’ll keep pushing the button until you captured the perfect graduation picture for all of your social media accounts. Because you won’t get this moment back. Because I know.

You are probably more likely qualified to survive this pandemic because your lives were required to have patience, perseverance, unknown health strength and some luck. Many of you ask yourself from time to time, why me? Why am I the one that got out? Why am I the one that made it?

I worry about whether you will be able to return to campus a year from now to participate in the commencement ceremony set to replace the one you are missing this month. I worry that your family can’t or won’t make it. I worry you will not want to return to a campus, a place, that you spent four years and maybe some change at, and still felt unheard and unseen.

Please for the often unheard, and often unseen, read between the lines, because I write this especially with us in mind. This is your Seventeen-Years moment, with seventeen years worth of doubts from others and yourself, and you made it. You made it. So celebrate it.

And it is you that made me say, I must write this. You won’t get this moment back. And you will always remember it. So make your Seventeen-Years moment positively memorable.

P.S.S.

Here’s a link to a celebration that showcases: This is how we do it.

https://www.facebook.com/TND/videos/284797529633597/?v=284797529633597

Citations Still Matter: For the credit and links to the Cap Designs, see list below, by number from top left to top right, and bottom left to bottom right.

1. Ancestors Cap 2. Dream & Vision 3. Chemistry 4. Si Se Pudo 5. Black Girl Magic 6. Ho’omau 7. Migrated 8. First Gen 9. Bball

Disappearing Act: The AFAM Class I Signed up for was Canceled, and Here’s Why

By Sofia McLaren

Last semester I decided to enroll in AFAM 375, Harlem Renaissance, however, before I could enroll the class was taken down and no longer being offered. The cancellation of classes was a phenomenon I had not experienced before signing up for a class in the African American studies program. I don’t think I even knew it was a possibility, but it seems that the resources in the program can’t always support the classes that professors would like to teach. I immediately mentioned it to Professor Renee Simms, a professor in the African American studies program as well as the English department. Professor Renee Simms explained to me that this kind of thing happened, that they had to delete a specific section of 101 as well because they didn’t have the resources to make it happen. I had other friends who were planning on taking the section of 101 and were also unable to do that. I was irritated, not only because this had happened to a class I wanted to take, but that it had happened in the African American Studies program specifically.

“The identity based programs continue to be the smallest programs on campus and because they are small they don’t get the title of department on the University campus.”

Why was it that I was only hearing about this happening in AFAM? I spoke with Professor Simms about the resources in the program and how the allocated resources are similar to the Gender and Queer Studies program (GQS) as well as Latino Studies. In these identity based programs there tends to be a greater need for and use of adjunct professors which changes the allocation of funds in the program and is an indication that these programs are in need of growth. The identity based programs continue to be the smallest programs on campus and because they are small they don’t get the title of department on the University campus.

“I discussed it with friends and no one else had experienced this in their prospective major departments.”

The deletion of classes was a new thing to me, but I couldn’t believe that I was only hearing about it in the African American Studies department. I discussed it with friends and no one else had experienced this in their prospective major departments. African American studies has had a rollercoaster of a ride at University of Puget Sound (UPS), being part of the curriculum in the 1970s and then being nonexistent from about 1978-1999. However, in the 1990s Dr. Nancy Bristow was hired in the history department and Dr. Hans Ostrom was hired in the English department, both saw the importance of African American Studies and it was approved as an area of study in 1994-1995. The minor first appeared in the bulletin in 1999. Although this was a victory for the field of study, the problem that remains today can be seen with professors housed in other departments helping to round out the African American Studies department or the other way around. An example of this today is Professor Renee Simms, who was hired in 2011, although she is listed as an associate professor in the African American Studies program, she is also a contributing faculty to the English department and works with the Center for Writing, Learning, and Teaching (CWLT), meaning less classes that can be taught in African American Studies. She was originally interviewed to be part of the english department and ended up being hired for the AFAM program and has enjoyed the focus she has been able to allocate to the black diaspora.

Professors have a set salary and that means that they are expected to teach 3 classes a semester, however, there are so many other things going on in the African American studies program, therefore, not all the professors have the opportunity to teach 3 classes within the program, or 3 classes at all. The program is dedicated to actively involving the community and contributing to the University in meaningful ways that they greatly enhance the University in other ways, besides teaching classes. Professor Simms is an example of this, she works in the CWLT as a faculty advisor, which gives her a course release. Course releases can be given for being a faculty advisor in a specific area, grants for research, directing projects, and various other reasons. Due to Professor Simms’ course release she teaches a 3:2 year, meaning she teaches 3 classes during the fall semester and only 2 during the spring semester. The course releases exist to give professors an opportunity to allocate time in other areas besides their classes, showing their dedication to bettering the University in multiple ways.

“The AFAM professors allocate great amounts of extra time to the University, investing in the future of this campus and the students that are enrolled here. It is time for the university to fully invest in the program.”

Dr. Dexter Gordon is another professor in the department with immense responsibilities and projects. He was hired in 2002 as the director and has remained the director of the African American Studies Program, director of the Race and Pedagogy Institute, and a professor in Communications Studies. These roles all take time and dedication and make it difficult for Professor Gordon to teach as many classes as other professors, therefore, he is given course releases for this extended service. The program has managed to stay grounded and in 2015 became designated as a major. The AFAM professors allocate great amounts of extra time to the University, investing in the future of this campus and the students that are enrolled here. It is time for the university to fully invest in the program. The investment in the community that the AFAM program works so hard on is one of the many reasons that the program is valuable. Community involvement is pivotal for getting ideas circulated and giving the University the right recognition. For the amount of investment the AFAM program puts into the University it is time to see the University investing in them.

“The lack of classes is exactly how programs disappear and the AFAM program needs to stay, it is a vital connection for this campus to the community.”

The designation of African American Studies as a major was a huge victory because it was, and still is the only major offered in African American Studies in the state of Washington. I am grateful that I have the opportunity to major in an area of study that I care about, however, I want to know why there is such a struggle to offer enough classes. The battle has become the ability to offer enough classes in the program so that students can achieve the major. Two years after the major was designated, the University hired Dr. LaToya Brackett, a 3-year visiting professor who has now interviewed for a tenure track position and been hired. This interview for a tenure track position came after years of proposals to the university, years of extra work. While these are great accomplishments, the fact remains that the department continues to cancel courses because they do not have the resources to teach them. The lack of classes is exactly how programs disappear and the AFAM program needs to stay, it is a vital connection for this campus to the community. As a community we can not let the program become invisible and slowly disappear, it is our job to make sure the program continues to get stronger.

Upon further questioning, I discovered that the professor who was going to teach the Harlem Renaissance course this semester was Dr. Juli McGruder who retired from the Occupational Therapy Program here at UPS. Dr. Juli McGruder would have been an adjunct professor and that costs more money for the program which is partly why the class was designated to be cancelled. Dr. McGruder did not study African American studies, however she has been very active within the program because, as Professor Simms said, she is “an independent scholar and has a love for Black literature and arts.” The decision for the teaching of the class by an adjunct professor was made by Juli Christoph, the Associate Dean, who also made the decision to cancel the class. According to Juli Christoph there are “usually quite a few (50-100) course additions, deletions, and corrections that happen in the month leading up to registration.”

“The interest and dedication in the program needs to continue to grow because that is the only way to ensure its permanence. The University needs to do their part in helping the AFAM program grow and continue to thrive on this campus, that does not include continuing a pattern of cancellation.”

Although they had found a professor to teach the class, they weren’t able to have a professor from the program teach the class. This shows that even with hiring a visiting professor, now a tenure track professor, the program is still in need of professors and needs to continue to grow in its capacity. In the words of Dr. Gordon, “The future of African American Studies depends, as it always has done, on the work of scholars, students, and communities of interest.” It is important that as a University community we recognize the areas of the institution that need support and relevance on a larger scale than is being offered now. The interest and dedication in the program needs to continue to grow because that is the only way to ensure its permanence. The University needs to do their part in helping the AFAM program grow and continue to thrive on this campus, that does not include continuing a pattern of cancellation. We as students also need to continue to advocate for the program and share the amazing experiences we’ve been given by being a part of the program and by taking the classes taught by incredibly engaging professors.

The Outsider’s View from Inside the Bubble

This piece is written with inspiration from Sandra Rosa Bryant’s work “Studying Abroad On My Own Campus,” featured in the Autumn 2012 Arches publication. After reading her piece, her experiences and those of her peers feeling excluded, isolated, and underappreciated led me to think of how similar my University of Puget Sound narrative is. This piece is written in solidarity to hers, and one that has led me to reflect on my own experience at the university. 

Link to Bryant’s article here: https://www.pugetsound.edu/files/pages/arches/arches_autumn_2012/files/assets/seo/page18.html

What is the University of Puget Sound to me?

When first applying for colleges, I wanted to go as far from Tacoma as the eye could see. It was the beginning of my senior year of high school, and I had just moved to the North End after being raised in South Tacoma the first 17 years of my life, where the University of Puget Sound was far from on my radar. In all honesty I only ended up here due to the scholarships I had been provided, and this was incentive enough to stay. As I have come to learn, being a black student at Puget Sound has been both my greatest learning experience and my greatest hardship. 


Who am I to Puget Sound?

I first noticed a feeling of duality at the end of my first year. I spent most of the time in my first two semesters doing what I had done throughout all of my schooling: being in every club, taking every subject I could fit in a schedule, and making friends in every place I could. However, when getting to college with this same mindset, I felt a heightened emotional exhaustion unlike any I had felt before. I couldn’t put in the same effort, or at least I didn’t feel that I could. No matter how much extra I did nothing was going to be enough for others, and in turn, enough for myself. I grew more and more tired, skipping meals and grabbing the extra coffees, and sitting in the Anderson/Langdon lounge from dusk to dawn doing any and everything to feel ahead because the feeling of accomplishment just wasn’t present. 

How did I realize I didn’t belong?

I went into my second year on campus ramping myself up to do better than I had before, even if what I did before was actually my “best”. I found myself in a rut. I hadn’t come to this realization however until I found myself taking my first AFAM class, an Introductory course to African American Studies with Dr. Brackett. Of course, being in the midst of internal conflict, I did not realize the ways I reflected the oppression I lived by being a black student on campus, and more importantly one trying to leave a mark everywhere I went. There was a single concept we studied that both enlightened and intimidated me: double-consciousness. 

W.E.B. DuBois coined the term double consciousness.** For me, in my own words and reality, double consciousness is my: Blackness, womanhood, and Americaness. My life is seen and controlled by several lenses: my own lens and the lenses of others.  Everything I do is approached from this dual perspective from being both within and outside the dominant group, resulting in an inner conflict and tension I must grapple with every day. 

W.E.B DuBois

How do I define double consciousness…and how does double consciousness look for me, here at Puget Sound?

Once I learned what I was feeling had a term and was quite common for African Americans, I found myself reassessing the way I valued my work, why I valued my work, and where these feelings of validation actually came from. Once I noticed I relied so heavily on the external validation, I found myself more cognisant of my success, and more so seeing that I was and always had spread myself too thin to appease others. In the wake of recent circumstances, going virtual has granted me time to look inside myself, but also to metabolize this new version of reality I have found myself to be living in. I am not nearly as critical to myself, and find I am much more ambitious than cautionary about the way I converse with others, take on projects, and even how I approach academia in general.

How do I continue to move forward with this realization?

Being at the halfway point of my undergraduate experience at the university, I am always expanding on my knowledge of how I shape the world for myself, and how it in turn shapes me, for better or worse. However, out of these lessons have come excess labor, pain, and the necessity for resilience. I find myself growing and strengthening in my knowledge, love, and acceptance of self through being here, but will always find myself wondering if the oppression I feel on a daily basis is worth these lessons. I often find that there is a sort of sadness when thinking between the things I want versus the things I am as a black student at Puget Sound. However, having the ability to learn where these disparities come from in and out of the classroom and living as an active force against a recurring storyline for many like myself is greater than anything a single university could grant me. 

**”It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness,—an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.” W.E.B DuBois, The Souls of Black Folk

The 2020 Race & Pedagogy Institute’s Strategic Planning Summit: Reflections of a Student Attendee

By Eliza Tesch

On Saturday, March 7th I was able to attend the second day of the Race & Pedagogy Institute Strategic Planning Summit. I had previously attended the Race & Pedagogy National conference in fall of 2018 and I am a member of the Student Association for the Race & Pedagogy Institute, but I still wasn’t sure quite exactly what to expect from this event.

I had a great time at the Summit, and met former students and community members who were just as passionate about social justice and making tangible change in the world as I am, and exposed me to a whole wealth of information I was not aware of about activism opportunities outside of UPS, as well as the history of RPI and previous work that had been done.

Promotional Video about the
2018 Race & Pedagogy National Conference

The attendees of the event included several students and former students, the RPI leadership team, as well as community partners, some of whom traveled for an hour to be able to attend the event. The day I was there we went through learning, reflection, discussion about the current state of RPI, RPI’s vision and mission, and ideas for the future. We also listened to speakers, including the RPI leadership team, community members and Puget Sound students.

Our Strategic Planning Summits are pivotal in the Institute’s work as they serve as major sites where the Community Partners Forum, along with Puget Sound faculty, staff, and student partners and collaborating constituencies beyond the campus and Forum, come together to critically examine the direction of our work within a longer view. Within the context of University of Puget Sound’s new strategic plan, Leadership For a Changing World, this 2020 Summit will examine our achievements and their significance, alongside questions of what do we need to emphasize and re-imagine, and matters of capacity building and deeper embedding of the work of race and pedagogy.


Excerpt from the Invitation letter for the 2020 Planning Summit

Race and Pedagogy Institute Vision and Mission

“In our 18 years of sustained, focused, and collaborative work, the Race & Pedagogy Institute has staged a range of more than 20 summits and conferences, spawned an assortment of collaborations across academia and communities, provided a variety of educational resources for transformative pedagogy on the Puget Sound campus and beyond, brought together disparate communities to generate vigorous thinking about race equity and education, inspired a plethora of initiatives focused on the work of education and equity in both K-12 and higher education, and been one of the voices of change seeking to transform the landscape of education on our campus and beyond. All of this has been undertaken as part of our mission of educating teachers and students at all levels to think critically about race and to act to eliminate racism.” –Race & Pedagogy Website

As an attendee of this event, I had a several takeaways (in addition to my observation that the catered meals were delicious and far superior to SUB food). An event like this summit with two days of programming takes a huge amount of planning and energy to put on, and the quadrennial national conferences take YEARS to plan. What many people don’t realize, is that the leadership team of the Race & Pedagogy Institute is made up of a very small group of people who perform a very large volume of work, through the power of what seems to me to be sheer willpower.

The Race and Pedagogy Institute is an incredible organization that we are very lucky to have on our campus, and in my opinion is not given the recognition that it deserves. RPI has existed for 18 years, and has put on youth summits, the national conference, speaker series, and other important events that have been extremely beneficial to the Puget Sound community and beyond. I highly encourage anyone who is looking to get involved in social justice, specifically working towards a world without racism to get involved in RPI by joining the Student Association for the Race and Pedagogy Institute or attending community partner’s meetings.

For more information on The Race and Pedagogy Institute check out their website.

https://www.pugetsound.edu/rpi