When it comes to valuing diversity and inclusion, the university seems to be falling short. Last year the university released its strategic plan with pride, but was chastened by students who saw no mention of diversity or multiculturalism. Last month the university held a town hall to address those issues then obliterated any good will it had earned by shuffling Dr. Cordell Black, Assistant Provost of Equity and Diversity, out of his post. This was a model demonstration of sending mixed messages, followed by a heartwarmingly diverse demonstration in support of Dr. Black.
This all made me think about one of the articles I assign in my spring Filipino American studies course. In it, the author, Rachel Bundang, poses this question: “If all we do is manipulate and maneuver to make space for ourselves, how do we ever really overturn the existing order?” When I first read it, I immediately recognized the wisdom in her words. She was saying that inclusion — which we value so much — is not enough; that true change does not happen simply because we have more people of color in the room. Those who get in have a responsibility to make change from within. But I think Bundang is going further and suggesting that perhaps we’re fighting the wrong battles.
Thus I also wondered if she was asking too much. I thought maybe she was writing this from the privileged perch of academia and not the trenches of experience. I thought she was diminishing my work, most of which has been about advocating for the health and well-being of Asian Pacific Americans and other habitually marginalized groups. Nevertheless, I put it on a slide and asked my class to think about what it meant.
I have continued to reflect on it as well. And now it makes more sense than ever. The growth of ethnic studies in the last 40 years is an example of successful and inspirational struggles to make space for ourselves in academia. But it’s not a stable place. The “existing order” lets them on the team, but keeps them on the sidelines. Then in tight budgets, those “special” programs that we fight for always seem to get targeted first. Some would argue that we should instead integrate ourselves more into the “mainstream” programs like history or literature. But really all that does is just shift the battle to a smaller playground. It’s still the same fight (and sometimes harder because it’s hidden). The inclusion is conditional.
In another example, many gay APAs have joined the fight to be included in the institution of marriage, not just for love, but for the thousands of federal benefits that are attached to the institution. That is the “existing order” of the institution of marriage. But a few people, including some gay people, are asking why all those benefits are attached to marriage in the first place. They are asking if we should instead be fighting for a de-linking of property rights and marriage.
Finally, perhaps the most anti-progressive example of inclusion is the last administration. President Bush reportedly appointed a record number of APAs. We had a Taiwanese American implementing anti-labor union policies, a Vietnamese American writing legislation that cast immigrants as terrorist threats, and a Korean American using his law degree to justify torture (Elaine Chao, Viet Dinh and John Yoo).
Workers’ rights, immigrants’ rights and the rule of law: three things that the self-proclaimed APA movement has fought hard for. How perfectly perverse then to have an Asian face as the oppressor. But this is not about a Republican failing. Minorities have complained for years about being taken for granted by the Democratic Party. We are included, but not in true positions of power. You may have hated Bush, but you can’t deny that he put people of color in real decision-making positions.
To be clear, I’m not comparing Dr. Black to Bush’s appointees. I met Dr. Black briefly last semester when we were on a panel together. I enjoyed listening to his experience and expertise, and I think we have similar politics.
I’m also not saying that we should not fight for inclusion. I am for marriage equality. In addition, I was there in 1990s when officials in the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services first met to discuss the idea of an APA serving institution. I was at the table with Congressional aides and community advocates in 2001 to draft the legislation to create such a thing. Now I am (coincidentally) teaching at a university that has been awarded that designation. I’m proud of my students who organized and marched in support of Dr. Black. We should continue to “manipulate and maneuver to make space” for him and for ourselves.
But we also need to open other fronts, to use a war analogy. Perhaps we can get what we want by going further upstream. Or maybe we need to go underground and attack the foundation. I can only speak in metaphors because it is exceedingly difficult to think about another way to get what you want when you have been trained in one way. But you don’t have that baggage. And so I leave it to you to overturn the existing order rather than just joining it.
Professor Gem Daus teaches two Filipino American studies classes in the Asian American Studies program. He is also the executive director of the National Council on Interpreting in Health Care.
