An Open Letter to Student Affairs:Student Affairs is not Safe for Black/African American People

On Wednesday, September 4, 2019, like many others, I learned that Breitbart News had written an article regarding 2016/2017 tweets, where I used my voice and social media platform to increase awareness regarding the very present existence of racism toward Black/African-American people. To provide context, I served as the Associate Dean for Diversity & Inclusion at Johns Hopkins University in 2016, where it was my job to be a vocal and active advocate around issues impacting historically marginalized communities. In 2017, during the time of the second tweet, I was the Executive Director for my fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha — the first intercollegiate fraternity for Black/African-American men and the same fraternity as such activists and change agents as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall, Dr. Cornell West, Paul Roberson, and countless others committed to racial and social justice for our community. In reviewing the comments section of the Breitbart News article, it seemed that mostly white conservatives had expressed particular concern with my opinions regarding the United States Flag existing as a representation of systemic racism for Black/African-American people. There was also great disdain for my assertion that white people shouldn’t have opinions about racism since it is a cultural phenomenon that they cannot personally nor institutionally experience. This has been researched and proven by several scholars across multiple disciplines (e.g. Delgado & Stefancic, 2001; Gillborn, 2006; hooks, 2004; Jones, 1980; Lynn & Dixson, 2013; Riley, 2011).

Navigating Racism as a Black Man
As a result of this experience, I was overcome by many indescribable emotions. These emotions were exacerbated by emailed death threats, tweets, and comments which I received moments, minutes, hours, and even days, weeks, and months following the release of the story. In an instant, my life and safety were both threatened because I spoke 400 years (1619–2019) of truth and power into 140 typed characters on Twitter. For Black/African-American people, navigating racism, marginalization, and racial oppression is part of our daily routine — it’s like breathing. It’s something we either seek to fight against or, for many of us, a reality we’ve digested and internalized as normal. I’ve committed to the former.

In the midst of this newfound chaos, I mistakenly felt a sense of security and a deep feeling that I would be protected via a cadre of higher education/student affairs faculty, professionals, administrators, and association leaders who would strategically and purposefully act, organize and speak out against Breitbart’s attack. I was sure of this because, throughout my career, I’d seen it done before. I’d seen our associations take very public stances against policies and legislation that sought to limit access or opportunities for same-gender-loving and transgender professionals. I witnessed our associations lead boycotts of states that passed exclusive legislation. I observed platforms given to other professionals and faculty who had been wronged or targeted for their very progressive and inclusive views. Additionally, I believed that my voice and my direct advocacy embodied the values and ideas of student affairs; that we [student affairs] were a profession that stood up for using one’s active voice to increase the capacity of others, that we promoted story-telling as a tool of transformation, that throughout our careers we are encouraged to speak out against injustices in the name of inclusion while using our resources to advance the awareness, knowledge, and skills of others around racial and social justice. Comparatively, six months later and no formal action has been taken on my behalf. This lack of action forced the realization that I was left to heal and “bounce back” from this traumatic experience without the formal assistance of my profession, its associations, or its leaders.

Navigating Student Affairs as a Black/African-American Man
Since the release of the Breitbart News article, I have thought deeply about how this scenario went wrong — if I deserved all that happened; if I made a misstep. After deep prayer and reflection, I concluded that my only miscalculation was trusting that I was safe as a Black/African-American man. That as a US citizen, a person of several intersected social identities, and the son of working-class parents, including a military veteran, I had the natural-born right to speak about the ills that have systematically plagued me and my greater community, directly. Before moving forward, let me be clear, one skill I developed over the years was the acumen necessary to navigate political landscapes, strategically. As an administrator, a faculty member and a trained facilitator, I learned how to advocate and bring light to the experiences of marginalized communities without “frightening” the majority because, as we know, white fragility is real (DiAngelo, 2011). We [Black/African-American people] see, feel, and live through it daily, even while employed on college and university campuses.

I came to one conclusion during this journey — student affairs, as a profession, is not safe for Black/African-American people. It only becomes safe when we center our racial identity and personification of it within the comfort of white fragility. Only when the dominant racial group is comfortable with our existence (i.e. our hair, our clothes, our accent, our tone, our disposition, our advocacy, our voice, etc.) are we even possibly safe. Only when we’ve learned to fully navigate our identity within the constructs of white gaze, are we possibly guaranteed some level of protection. What an unjust reality for a race of people that have consistently navigated white evaluation and Black degradation since being kidnapped and forcibly brought to this country 400+ years ago. This is even more troubling because most employment opportunities are on campuses that still struggle with Black/African-American diversity and inclusion; locations where Black/African student affairs professionals and faculty have to sacrifice cultural comfortability to survive and thrive within their careers.

A Path toward Black/African-American Justice in Student Affairs
Until student affairs is prepared to discuss and address the systemic issues plaguing Black/African-Americans, instead of collapsing it within the constructs of multicultural or people of color, the field will continue to lose professionals and miss opportunities to fully conceptualize the nuanced lived experiences of each member of the student affairs community. Freedom of speech does not come with an expectation that we all will agree upon a shared view of the world. It also does not give any of us the authority to ever challenge the humanity or lived experiences of others, especially those navigating marginalization daily. True freedom of speech must include the right of the historically oppressed to openly share the societal nuances that impact their lives. I stand behind my expression of my lived experiences and hope that — by sharing — others will finally accept that racism has been and is still a crippling institution used to dismantle the rights and privileges of Black/African-American people.

In closing, I understand that I make meaning of the world as a descendant of the enslaved. I know my lived experiences may be hard for some to understand and may make some angry or resistant to the realities of our society. Yet, what I hope it causes is a level of dissonance that requires student affairs associations, and white administrators and faculty to intentionally think about how systemic racism toward Black/African-American people, students, staff, faculty, and association leaders still continues to permeate throughout the profession. I hope the contents of this letter evoke a greater conversation about the importance of fostering environments where Black/African-American student affairs professionals can authentically navigate majority-white spaces without the lingering fear of external retaliation — environments where using one’s voice strategically and boldly is celebrated and encouraged. I also hope that if, at any time, fellow Black/African-American student affairs professionals are attacked for speaking their truth, the entirety of the profession will rally behind them in full support, using its collective power in a steadfast protest.

We [Black/African-American people] should have the right to live as freely as our counterparts from other identity groups. However, I am sad to say that we do not. My experience is unjustifiable and there should be no reason why, as a professional, I was left to fend for my humanity alone. Although this experience has caused me to walk away from the profession at this time, I am excited to further my life’s work as a committed advocate within the nonprofit sector where I will be able to use my voice to advance state and federal policies related to the eradication of racism and poverty. Honestly, this letter is not about me. It is, instead, about the thousands of current and future Black/African-American student affairs professionals who believe they are safe — free to speak out against injustice and to advocate for their own humanity. It is about a true road to inclusion for Black/African-American professionals. We as a community and as a people deserve that at the very least.

References

Delgado, R., & Stefancic, J. (2001). Critical race theory: An introduction. New York: New York University Press.

DiAngelo, R. (2011). White Fragility. International Journal of Critical Pedagogy, 3 (3), 54–70.

Gillborn, D. (2006). Rethinking White Supremacy: Who Counts in ‘WhiteWorld.’ Ethnicities,6 (3), 318–340. https://doi.org/10.1177/1468796806068323

hooks, b. (2004) We real cool: Black men and masculinity. New York: Routledge

Jones, W.T. (1980). Perspectives on ethnicity. In L.V. Moore (Ed). Evolving theoretical perspectives on students. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Lynn, M., & Dixson, A. D. (2013). Handbook of critical race theory in education.

Riley, J. R. (2011). Racism, discrimination, and prejudice: Through the voices of undergraduate Black men at predominantly white institutions (Doctoral dissertation). Retrieved from https://getd.libs.uga.edu.