the time for change was yesterday

Hundreds of students gather at President's office to speak about breaking the cycle of systemic racism, violence

A note before we begin: The practice of using the trauma and emotions of Black and brown people in order to further my own career does not sit well with me. I understand the demand for high-quality clips and this is an article I am proud of. However, that does not mean that I am comfortable with the industry asking me to commodify the voices of my peers. Therefore, I will only be sharing a excerpt with all names censored and I will not be including photos. You can find the article in its entirety at The Front.

 

In 2015, several students made racist death threats against then-Associated Students President BS online. Then-President Bruce Shepard detailed plans that he said were only the beginning of the work Western had to do to combat racism on campus.

Three years later, students of color say not much has changed.

“When I was a freshman, seniors were telling me about the messed up things happening on campus. Now I’m a senior teaching freshman about the same things,” said MS.

MS spoke from the stairs of Old Main, where over 200 students gathered to demonstrate their frustration with Western’s ongoing lack of proactivity to address racism on campus. What started as a sit-in in President Sabah Randhawa’s office to raise concerns about the lack of transparency and action in the university’s response to recent racist vandalism on campus soon became an open forum for students of color to express their feelings.

“For 18 years, all my mom wanted for me was to go to Western. Now my brother is a junior and I’m telling him not to go here,” said demonstrator MU. Other students of color shared similar sentiments.

At one point, a member of the demonstration asked how many students of color had considered transferring or dropping out after the most recent hate crimes. Over 40 people raised their hands.

Students said they want transparency, they want proactivity, they want safety. They wanted it three years ago, when classes were cancelled after — was threatened. They wanted it in summer 2017, when Islamophobic posters were spread across campus.

Not only do they feel administration is late in giving them what they want, but once they reached their destination, Randhawa’s office, he wasn’t there. 

Greeted at the doors by Melynda Huskey, vice president for Enrollment and Student Services, students poured in, in droves - filling the alcove of the fourth floor Old Main stairwell with their presence and their voices. Using a microphone, Huskey fielded questions and comments from demonstrators both inside and outside the office for nearly three hours, awaiting Randhawa, who was in Seattle for a meeting with donors about diversity and inclusion.

“I see more regard for the safety of your office than the people in it. I see more regard for the safety code in here than out there,” demonstrator MJS said from the entryway to Randhawa’s office, where University Police Chief Darin Rasmussen enforced the fire code, refusing to let more than the recommended number of students in the room.

Huskey, Rasmussen and Assistant Dean of Students Michael Sledge answered questions and heard comments ranging from public safety concerns to expulsion practices. Students fact-checked and challenged the three, pulling up sections from the student code of conduct and other university policies as proof of their unshaken belief that the system could be—has to be— changed.

Students asked plainly for this: show them, through direct action, that their voices and efforts are valued.

“We want to hear from people and see it in their eyes that they want to help. And we haven’t seen that. That’s why we’re still here,” MJS said. “We should not have to take time out of our lives to figure out how to keep us safe when there are people who have jobs for that.”

The catalyst for this dialogue was student concern around potential consequences for the student recently arrested on suspicion of breaking into Nash Hall and allegedly writing racial and homophobic epithets and threats of sexual violence on the namecards of nine residents.

Despite their best efforts, students were met with bureaucratic gridlocks as they tried to negotiate the process of possible expulsion of the student.

“If you tell them what to do, they’ll do it. Use your voice, you have so much power. This is why these systems are like this... You are a white woman in power. It’s not that hard, put in the effort, they’ll listen to you. They’re listening to you right now. Do it for us,” SI begged Huskey.

Huskey and the other two reiterated that their hands were effectively tied by the disciplinary process.

According to Rasmussen, the vandalism wasn't targeted at a single person, and therefore wasn’t considered a threat of violence that would warrant immediate interim suspension, citing the student conduct code, section 516-21-260.

“When I read the n-word, to me that is a death threat,” said Ethnic Student Center employee and fourth-year student JA. “That is knowledge that has been passed down to me.”

JA and other demonstrators felt that the concept of a “threat of violence” was defined too narrowly in the code of conduct. MS said it’s unfair that administration gets to decide when students are unsafe.

“We feel unsafe right now,” students chimed in.

The problem, they said, is that students and administration are stuck in a loop.

“How do you guys change your policy so that this doesn’t continue- for these people to think it’s okay to do this. I’ve been here for four years and this stuff is a cycle. It happens, it continues to happen, your administration acts the same every single time. People are continuing to feel unsafe,” said MU.


Originally posted to The Front, December 5, 2018
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