I want to take this space to publicly acknowledge and thank the African American Studies faculty for their remarkable understanding and compassion during this time. The coronavirus outbreak has been a difficult and even traumatic event for all of us in different ways, but my professors in the African American Studies department have acted as a lifeline for me. As a senior student athlete, the weeks following the cancelation of my last season were extremely confusing and distressing. I logged on to online classes trying to maintain a demeanor of optimism, but my professors in the AFAM department immediately knew that this was a façade. Once I admitted to my professors that I was not ok, I was met with an unprecedented level of personal support, empathy, and kindness. I would specifically like to recognize Dr. Brackett and Dr. Livingston for the mentorship roles they played in my final weeks of college. Though we communicated only online, the sense of connection I felt through these interactions was invaluable for my mental health and my ability to finish undergrad in a way I could be proud of, even under these circumstances.
As Dr. Livingston reminds us, living and learning are inextricably linked. My AFAM classes were among the small number of spaces that succeeded in striking the delicate balance between ignoring the significant sadness of this time and wallowing in it. My AFAM professors encouraged the recognition of this period of mental mourning through its incorporation into the learning process. One example of this is Dr. Brackett’s Public Scholarship class (AFAM 399), which afforded me the opportunity to write a reflective article for The Publicon my experience as a Logger athlete, something that I didn’t know needed to be written until it was done. Completing this assignment was not only therapeutic for me, it reinforced the values of the class: sharing knowledge publicly as a means of impacting the social landscape.
Furthermore, my interactions with my AFAM professors were characterized by a distinct honesty and openness and a refreshing absence of fake, flippant optimism. My professors made no attempts to dismiss reality while simultaneously modeling and exuding real fortitude and hope. By bringing their real, honest selves into the classroom, they let us know it was ok to do the same. Of course, the professional relationship of professor/student was still there, but so too was a distinct recognition of mutual humanity, something that literally everyone on earth needs right now.
There is no guidebook for being a professor during a global pandemic. I believe that the extraordinary level of understanding I received from my professors in the AFAM department can be accounted for both by the characters of the individual professors themselves as well as the field of African American Studies being one in which empathy is not just encouraged but fundamentally crucial. That is one of the many reasons I am continuously grateful and proud to have majored in African American Studies at the University of Puget Sound.
In 2014, at the University of Puget Sounds in Tacoma, Washington, faculty voted yes for the addition of the KNOW requirement, short for knowledge, identity, and power. This course requirement for graduation necessitates all UPS students to take one class that focuses on power differentials and social inequalities and how they relate to the production of knowledge. Reading through the 2014 Trail article entitled “Controversy within Faculty Send KNOW Proposal to Final Vote,” it is obvious that the KNOW requirement did not garner the undivided support of UPS faculty. While the vote came out 59 to 14 in favor of the new requirement, those in opposition were not silent about why. Professor Richard Anderson-Connolly, of the Sociology and Anthropology department, stated that the requirement, “…doesn’t pay attention to the idea that race can be a harmful social construction,” stating that while we shouldn’t ignore the impacts of racism, “…we also shouldn’t be teaching students to view each other as representations of different races” (Dohrmann).
Although the KNOW requirement was a step in the right direction, I would argue that those who view the requirement like Professor Anderson-Connolly, as one that could bring forth potential divides by highlighting social differences such as race, are the same minds that the requirement initially set out to reach. It is interesting to note that the KNOW requirement guidelines say nothing specifically about race, but the faculty conversation immediately centered the conversation on race. Rather, the learning objectives listed in the Bulletin course catalogue state that the KNOW requirement for graduation would help students, “develop their capacity to communicate meaningfully about issues of power, disparity, and diversity of experiences and identities” (Knowledge). After reading Professor Anderson-Connolly’s comments, it is no surprise that the word race never made it into the official description of the requirement. The portion, “diversity of experiences and identities” is the closest mention of race in the description.
When I scroll down the 70+ classes available to satisfy the KNOW requirement, I see classes that address the, “issues of power” and, “disparity,” but very few that address the, “diversity of experience and identities.” For instance, I believe intro-level classes like AFAM 101 or GQS 201 meet all three of the listed learning objectives of the KNOW requirement, while other classes listed as meeting the KNOW requirement, like HON 214 Interrogating Inequalities, do not. While I took HON 214 and can attest that the class was based around interrogating inequalities and allowed me to learn how to communicate meaningfully about issues of power, I still was not exposed to the intricacies of inhabiting a marginalized identity in our hegemonic society or taught about the presence of alternative historical narratives and knowledge. In HON 214, I was exposed to dominant, progressive, white topics regarding inequality, not novel ideas that were purposely not covered in my high school textbooks. Throughout the course of taking AFAM 101 and GQS 201, I not only became a more socially conscious individual, but I had my eyes opened to a world that was previously closed off to me in higher education.
I have had multiple students tell me that AFAM 101 changed their lives. This was not simply because they learned about power structures and inequality; AFAM 101 also addresses the creation of knowledge and dominant narratives with a focus on listening to the repressed narratives of a marginalized people. How can one communicate meaningfully about disparity when they do not know about the presence of institutions in our society that perpetuate that disparity but benefit whiteness? Identity-based social justice classes like Latino/a Studies, African American Studies, and Gender and Queer Studies address every aspect of the KNOW requirement’s learning objectives, including developing, “the capacity to communicated meaningfully about issues of… diversity of experiences and identities” (Knowledge). Discussing the presence of disparity is one thing but talking about the forces that cause those disparities not only to be there, but to continue to be there, is a less performative and more meaningful way for UPS’s majority white students to engage and learn from other identities and experiences.
In order to meet the original standards of the KNOW requirement, I propose that the language be changed from “experiences and identities” to “experiences and identities of marginalized folk.” It is important to note that this will narrow the range of available classes that meet the KNOW requirement significantly. With this change, it is important to note that the LTS, AFAM, and GQS departments are some of the smallest, youngest, and most overloaded and understaffed on campus; putting the burden of teaching our majority white students at UPS on these departments should not be done. It is not the job of those with marginalized identities to fix white peoples’ shortcomings when it comes to understanding race. Rather, professors who teach classes already meeting the KNOW requirement would have to resubmit their applications to the Curriculum Committee with an addendum specifically about how the class meets the new, more specific requirement of teaching about “experiences and identities of marginalized folk.” The addendum should also include what kind of pedagogy the professor plans to use when teaching this altered material about, more than likely, an identity other than their own. It is also important to ensure that people of color and marginalized identities occupy seats at every single Curriculum Committee meeting involving the decision of a class counting toward the KNOW requirement.
Including the “experiences and identities” segment of the course description gets at the core of what the KNOW requirement initially set out to accomplish, yet the vague language allows for the presence of auxiliary classes offered as cop outs for those who may believe race is a harmful social construct that should be avoided at all costs. It is important to notice the positionalities of those who make this kind of statement. Very rarely will someone who has experienced discrimination because of their marginalized identity buy into this colorblind notion. Students of color at UPS are already forced to be representations of their own races on our majority white campus. White people are the ones oblivious to the fact that race matters, as Anderson-Connolly so astutely explained to The Trail. This is why it is important to ensure that the KNOW requirement meet certain standards regarding marginalized identities and race.
This is a letter to my 6-year-old self. As a 5-year-old my house was flooded by Hurricane Katrina and my family remained in New Orleans for another year so that I could finish Kindergarten. This letter informally addresses what went on during that time for my white family and attempts to point out to my younger self the inequities that occurred during that time and connect them to the current pandemic that we are experiencing. This is relevant because New Orleans, specifically the black community in New Orleans, is being targeted by the corona virus due to different circumstances. I am hoping that by reading this letter to my younger self, you are able to ask questions similar to the ones I raise and remember past experiences through a new lens. Hopefully, you feel inspired and want to read more pieces that we as a class have created.
Dear Sofia,
I know you are feeling as if your world will never be the same; this is not a unique feeling, and the fact is that you will return to “normal” much sooner than many others around you. You have lost the stability that you knew so well. But remember the day that Hurricane Katrina hit. You were safe, far from the path of destruction, unable to imagine what it would be like to be the people on top of the roofs of their houses. You simply stared at the television, like you did with your parents every morning, before the hurricane hit your house, wondering what destruction would be announced next. Asking, “Why isn’t someone helping people off their roofs? How did they end up there in the first place?” The idea that these people had been abandoned in an unfathomable position was impossible to you… you did not know better.
“Evacuation was not what you wanted, but it was something you were given, not a punishment.”
I am telling you, from 14 years later, that now we do know better. It was our privilege to be able to evacuate, to drive away from the city of New Orleans on the side of the freeway that was supposed to lead into the city. You are safe, you are protected, you are cared for. You may have lost your sense of childhood safety, but many others lost the lives of the ones they loved, evacuation was not a given. As you played “Evacuation” with your best friend, using a dollhouse, you were unaware of what a privilege that was. To you, evacuation meant leaving behind possessions you thought you should have, you piled the car with toys and clothes only to be told that you were allowed one bag. One bag? How could you fit your life into one bag? You are five and you need your dolls, your dress up clothes, and your doctor kit. Evacuation was not what you wanted, but it was something you were given, not a punishment. You understood what had to be done, your gentle voice speaking to the dolls saying, “you can’t take that sweetie, there’s not enough room, only one bag.” But understanding did not mean accepting, and it did not mean considering that other people may not be doing the same thing. All you knew was that the traffic was horrible, there was no empty space on the road in sight, so that must have meant everyone was leaving too, right? Wrong.
“The hurricane was not the same for everyone.”
The luxury of leaving, which we had, was not the reality for many. Some people did not have the means or the support to leave the city, so they stayed in the convention center, they had no choice when it came to staying in the city. You did not know what to ask then, you did not recognize who was getting left behind, but you will later. You will know to ask who is being left behind and what is being done. You will ask why were there no relief efforts in the neighborhoods being hit the hardest, why were people being overlooked and why did they all look the same? Why are their neighborhoods still completely in shambles 14 years later? Why was the federal response so lacking? People weren’t jumping to their aid, it would take months for help to come. The Lower 9th Ward, the area right by some of the levees was hit hard; to this day there are concrete steps leading nowhere, in place of a home that used to be. The hurricane was not the same for everyone.
Today, yet again African Americans are being forgotten, the same thing is happening and you are seeing it. The convention center is open once again for emergency needs in response to the Covid-19 pandemic and will be used as a temporary hospital. Patterns have formed, the convention center is open again, the black community is targeted again, there is yet again not enough federal response in a city that needs more help and oppression continues. You’re seeing the numbers of Covid-19 cases rise faster in New Orleans, it wasn’t a specified population until more and more African American people came to the hospitals with symptoms of the virus. You may not know why or what questions to ask as a 6-year-old, but it is clear to you now, as a 19-year-old what needs to be addressed. Why are there certain communities with more cases?
“They are so called “essential” workers, but they are not thought of as essential unless we are in a crisis.”
Many African Americans in the community are working the lower income jobs that have them interacting with more people and places. For example, they work in grocery stores, drive buses, and clean facilities; in those jobs they do not have the option of working from home, as their job is to serve the local community. They are so-called “essential” workers, but they are not thought of as essential unless we are in a crisis. You have learned to ask, why are they essential now? Why are they ignored regularly? Why are they the main people working the service jobs? Jobs aren’t the only reason the African American population is at risk for the virus; black people are also less likely to be insured which may make them more hesitant to go to the hospital, get tested, and get treatment. Insurance is not the only problem with healthcare, because there are many inequalities and biases that affect the black community that have been prevalent in New Orleans for a long time. During times of crisis the oppressive tendencies of our communities surface, but they tend to disappear after the danger is past. It is our job to make them known and to notice them. We have to make known the crisis occurring within the current pandemic, and understand that the people in New Orleans have no choice when it comes to working their frontline jobs.
“Everyone may be experiencing the same crisis, but it is not the same caliber of crisis for everyone.”
Today, the new coronavirus is taking thousands of lives daily, but the lives being taken are not equal, the virus is not affecting everyone in the same way. Everyone may be experiencing the same crisis, but it is not the same caliber of crisis for everyone. You do not know what questions to ask, but 14 years later you do. You may finally know what to ask as a 19-year-old, but that doesn’t mean you have answers. You do not know why oppression continues and why people choose to ignore the reality of the world’s oppressive nature. It is because of this class that you know to ask these questions, to see the inequities and see the problems that lie behind crises and everyday scenarios. Where is the extra relief for the city now during the coronavirus outbreak?
My five year old friend, questioning is the key, observing the world through a critical lens that acknowledges your view is not the view of every person, your perspective is unique to you and cannot be taken for granted or used as the umbrella perspective for all those around you. As you mourn the loss of the world you have known, acknowledge the loss that has been more damaging than you can imagine. You are living in and out of friends’ homes and apartments, battling lice, dealing with robberies, and coming to terms with saying goodbye to the place and people you call home, but many have not been as lucky as you. You are white, you go to a private school, you have a web of friends to support you, and you have a family whose stability remains. The tears that you and your family have shed over the robbery, the mucking out of your house, and the blown-off roof of your church are valid, but the tears shed by others whose reality has gone unnoticed must be recognized. Recognize the oppression during the hurricane you have gone through and recognize the oppression that has resurfaced 14 years later in the wake of a new crisis.
Love,
Slightly Older Sofia
I am hoping that by reading this letter to my younger self, you yourself are asking these questions and remembering past experiences through a new lens. Hopefully, you are feeling inspired and want to read more pieces that we as a class have created. We have another publication coming out dedicated to our work in this class that focuses on reporting different happenings on the UPS campus. Our goal was to document and report on events and happenings on campus this year. This class has given each of us different tools to continue with our education and use in the real world. This next showcase publication will bring home everything that we have learned and value about this class. I myself have come out of this class with a new perspective on life and the inner workings of the world, as a class we have confronted some difficult topics that have helped us become better and more observant human beings.
Among the student athletes mourning the end of the spring season are those who participate in campus club sports. Club sports exist within an interesting organizational framework- they are governed by ASUPS and thus are managed by ASUPS student senate in consistency with other club bodies. Essentially, club athletics, with some individual bylaws within the ASUPS constitution, are subject to the same governing as all other student-organizations.This framework has wide-sweeping implications for student organizations across the board: club sports are considered the same as identity clubs, various student leadership initiatives, support groups and interest cooperatives within the funding process throughout the school year. Furthermore, student elected representatives are tasked with the responsibility of navigating the intricacies of club athletics, club sport funding, club sports independent governing bodies and choosing how to prioritize the allocation of funds to best support athletes while considering the plethora of other student interest groups.
As a former senator and club sport liaison for the ASUPS senate, when allocating funding, I often felt like the questions I was told to answer felt like an unfair and unrepresentative comparison between sports, social justice, academic groups and student interests. Not because one is more valuable for a student experience, but because they exist in different realms of organization and resource needs. This dynamic was exacerbated in coverations of funding regarding identity groups and club athletes; How do you prioritize the funding of athletics versus that of the Black Student Union? Why should the Gay Alliance have to compete for the same funding as Men’s Lacrosse? Why do student interests have to be mutually-exclusive? In essence, club sports are a mountainous toll for student-elected leaders as sports require a vastness of resources that ASUPS feels ill-prepared to navigate- an implication that unfairly affects all student organizations not just the sport teams.
This system of imbalance is illuminated with the end of the sports seasons and the simultaneous end to the ASUPS budget year. Clubs at the University receive autonomy over their budget account until July 1st. Following the end of the Budget year, student budget access ends and the club reapplies for funding the following fall. Generally, this system is effective; clubs budget the money they need, apply for it through student senate, senate allocates, and if the students successfully follow-through with their budget they end the season with no remaining funds.
Club sports generally hold some of the highest budgets in the ASUPS office- tournament bid fees, flights, hotels and practice equipment add up quickly. To supplement these costs, club sports are also required to fundraise for their season.The end of the college sports season left thousands of dollars unused by sports teams who were anticipating future travel and competition.
Consequently, with the end of the budget year, club sports are now facing the loss of thousands in fundraising- funds that could be used in the following season to alleviate the stress of bringing in money.
As a member of the Women’s Ultimate team, we are watching over $5,000 dollars go unused, much of which we raised through various fundraising and campaigning efforts.*
This example highlights a larger question of structure; should student government be in-charge of managing a huge sector of student athletics? To me, the answer is clear. Club sports need the University to develop an independent governing system to reduce the toll on ASUPS and on club sports and alleviate the unfair representation that both student athletes and other non-athletic club participants face from being lumped into the overarching title of “club”. Student social justice work, art projects, and media production are crucial to this campus. As are the experiences of student athletes. Our student body should not have to compete for resources and should be encouraged to engage on campus in multiple dimensions. This is my call for structural change.**
*We have inquired about appealing the budget roll-over protocol. Though we have not been granted a roll-over, the new administration has expressed that we can apply through a finance request in the fall to re-retrieve the money from the season. We hope that the new leadership will consider revising roll-over budget protocol to ensure club sports have the ability to maintain autonomy of their capital.
**University NCAA Division 3 sports are funded separately through the University. Non-NCAA regulated sports are categorized as “club” and funded through ASUPS and governed through outside independent organizations. Link to club sports: https://asups.pugetsound.edu/asups-clubs
