I’m ashamed of East Carolina University
Some things are bigger than football
In college, I was always the “protest girl”. I was the kind of girl who staged group “die-ins” on campus to protest the war in Iraq. In recurring editorials for the East Carolinian, I urged the university to take stances like cutting ties with Aramark over their prison abuses. ( Warning: I was 19 when I wrote that. Read at your own risk.) I successfully talked my literature professor into including more women and people of color on our syllabus.
While I was known on campus for my activism, I was far from the first student activist at ECU. In fact, student protest is a proud part of the university’s legacy.
In 1969, fed up with a hostile racial climate on campus, Black students had a tense confrontation with then President Leo Jenkins, armed with a list of demands and their powerful voices. These Black students successfully got the university to stop playing Dixie and waving the Confederate flags at games and to hire more Black faculty in the name of campus integration. No one would disagree that these students standing up for what they believe in made the university a better place.
It was in the lecture halls of East Carolina University that I learned to carry on the legacy of these brave students. My professors taught me to challenge things. They taught me to think critically about the world around me. Even though I was just some nobody kid from nowhere, my professors made me feel like I could make a difference by speaking up.
While I’m no longer staging die-ins on college campuses, I have built a fulfilling life at the intersection of activism, politics, and social change. I’ve helped student leaders find their own voices while teaching courses on writing and social change at Howard University. I’ve questioned President Barack Obama about his stance on Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I’ve spoken up about important issues involving racial injustice on national television. I have worked on dozens of campaigns in the name of making our country a better place. None of this would be possible if not for my time agitating on campus at East Carolina University.
But right now, I’m afraid that other students at ECU will miss out on the fundamental power of protest on campus.
Last Saturday, as I watched several members of ECU’s marching band take a knee in peaceful protest of police brutality and racial injustice, my heart swelled with pride. I felt these students were carrying on ECU’s very proud tradition of student protest of which I was part. For all the talk of the political apathy of the younger generation, these students were using their voice to stand up for what they believe, and it was beautiful.
ECU Chancellor Cecil Staton’s statement on the protest underscored the power of civil discourse and the importance of believing in something bigger than yourself, two values I learned during my time at East Carolina:
While we acknowledge and understand the disappointment felt by many Pirate fans in response to the events at the beginning of today’s football game, we urge all Pirate students, supporters and participants to act with respect for each other’s views. Civil discourse is an East Carolina value and part of our ECU creed.
Sadly, this feeling only lasted a day because Stanton soon reversed his stance and vowed to crack down on protests:
College is about learning, and it is our expectation that the members of the Marching Pirates will learn from this experience and fulfill their responsibilities. While we affirm the right of all our students to express their opinions, protests of this nature by the Marching Pirates will not be tolerated moving forward.
Perhaps Stanton was caving to pressure from angry alumni who threatened to stop donating to the school. Perhaps he was trying to soothe the ESPN affiliate refusing to air the next ECU football game if the protests continue. Either way, the fact remains that a chancellor’s concern should be the well-being of the students first and foremost.
Cracking down on protest is the wrong message to send to our community’s young people.
I have spent most of my life trying to prompt people to get involved in the world around them. Students need to know that their voices are powerful. They need to feel supported and empowered by their university to stand up for what they believe in. Furthermore, they have a constitutionally protected right to freedom of expression. This right doesn’t end when students put on their purple and gold marching band uniform.
To make matters worse, it seems that the racial climate on campus has gone from simmering to a rapid boil. Many students felt threatened when a professor responded by promising to carry a gun around campus to demonstrate her Second Amendment rights, seemingly forgetting that doing so is against the law. A racial slur was found in the library. In a climate where racial tensions are escalating, trying to muzzle students who are clearly trying to start a dialogue on the issue isn’t the right move. Not talking about it won’t make it go away.
As a Black woman, I’ve felt the sting of racial injustice on campus at ECU. I’ll never forget the night a pack of drunk guys shouted a racial slur at me out a moving car. That night, as hot tears stained my face, I made a silent promise to myself that I’d never live in the South after graduation — I just couldn’t take it anymore. What’s worse is that nothing has changed. Knowing that students are still having to putting up with this same racial animosity on campus that I did ten years earlier feels like a knife in the heart.
As I watch men and women who could be my father or my cousin face death at the hands of police, I wonder why Pirate Nation is seemingly more concerned about students taking a knee than they are about the deaths of these men and women. Is a small act of silent, peaceful protest really more of an outrage than racial injustice?
If it wasn’t for my time engaging in activism during my time at East Carolina, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I’m asking that the students of the ECU marching band get that same chance to use their voices just as I did during my time there.
