Leann Burke — Class of 2015
Race relations took center stage at DePauw during my junior and senior years. I remember covering the events for The DePauw, first as a copy editor my junior year, then as editor-in-chief in the first semester of my senior year, and finally as a writer in my final semester at DePauw. It was my privilege to cover the first DePauw Dialogue, a day that became a key point in my education at DePauw.
As I look back three years later, I realize it’s also a day that changed me as person and prepared me for the road my life would follow. During that day, for the first time in my life, I heard in-depth from people of color in a face-to-face setting. That experience changed the way I viewed race relations. I come from a relatively conservative family as a whole, and we are, for better or worse, not without our supply of racists. My views of race had been becoming more progressive throughout my previous years at DePauw, leading me to question some of what I had heard growing up, but not quite so powerfully as my experience at DePauw Dialogue. I look back at DePauw Dialogue as a turning point in my life. That day was when I began to understand privilege, and it lit a fire in me to learn more about race relations and the history of race in the U.S. It made me want to be an ally.
Most poignantly, I remember sitting in one of the small group discussions and being asked a question by one of my peers of color. I don’t remember the question anymore, but I remember how it made me feel. It required me to speak on behalf of my entire race — on behalf of all white people. That’s something we as a culture ask of people of color regularly with myriad questions. Take for example, why do black people join gangs? Or why do Latino people enter the U.S. illegally? These were both questions that, until that moment, I had been OK with asking the people of color brave enough to engage a naive white girl. That changed the moment I was put on the spot and asked to speak on behalf of all caucasian people. The room was silent for a while. I remember thinking, “I can’t answer this. I can’t speak for my entire race. We’re not homogenous.” It was uncomfortable. I squirmed in my seat. Then, I bucked up and gave my perspective. I thanked my peer for asking a question that put me in her shoes. When I look back over my time at DePauw, I remember a lot of great professors and peers who challenged me, friends and sorority sisters who laughed and cried with me, and assignments that kept me up all night or in the library all weekend. I remember moments of elation, of sadness, and of significance. But only a few changed my life. That moment in a small DePauw Dialogue group was one of the few.
DePauw prides itself on providing “uncommon success.” I want to remind everyone on campus that uncommon success does not come from being comfortable; from not admitting we might be, or are, wrong; from never taking risks; or from never squirming in our seats. Uncommon success comes from engaging with people who are different and listening to their perspectives; from being brave enough to not only ask hard questions, but to be asked hard questions; and from taking responsibility for making a positive difference in the world.
I want to challenge everyone on campus to react to the recent bias incidents in an uncommon way. Instead of becoming defensive and retreating to familiar sides of the aisle, extend a hand across. To my fellow caucasians, recognize that extending that hand will likely be easier, and safer, for you. Take responsibility for making our campus and our world a better, more accepting place. I did, and I have never regretted that decision.
