My fellow Reedies,
I am writing this letter not because I am looking to continue an argument, but rather because I feel the need to express my thoughts. I write to all of you not as the girl who restarted the Black and African Student Union nor as the girl who often finds herself placed within conversations of this nature, but rather as your peer who has been simultaneously hurt and enraged by recent events.
As many of you are aware, in the past week there have been a number of heated discussions on the ever controversial (albeit often entertaining) Facebook page Reed Relieves. One post in particular spawned one of the longest and most heated discussions surrounding race, privilege, and cultural appropriation that I have ever witnessed in my three years at this institution.
At its core, the conversation was an attempt to understand the politics, mechanisms, and boundaries of cultural appropriation. Reading through the first handful of comments, I found myself impressed by my classmates’ ability to discuss a sensitive topic with civility and intellect as well as their rampant desire to learn. This, I felt, was an example of Reedies at their best—working through a difficult topic, drawing upon reputable sources all based within fairly honorable discourse. However, as the conversation progressed, the discussion took a turn for the worse. The thread degenerated into accusations of unwarranted victimization, and silencing and blatant dismissal of different voices, experiences, and viewpoints. Probably most offensive of all was the overwhelming lack of desire to learn from the voices, experiences, and opinions of others. A roadblock appeared in the conversation, forcing those arguing on both sides of the argument to run in circles, dancing around the same point again and again, all in an attempt to have their opinions heard.
In an attempt to have their opinions heard.
For the sake of individual privacy and for my own sanity, I will refrain from rehashing some of the more offensive statements that were made. However, I will reiterate the fact that many involved in the conversation (myself included) felt as though we were pushed to the side, ignored, and ultimately silenced by the “louder” and somehow more “valid” opinions of some of our peers. While I do recognize that this conversation took place on the internet, where misunderstandings often run rampant, I also am fully aware of dismissive and dishonorable discourse when I encounter it. This conversation left me feeling frustrated, hurt, and most of all uncomfortable in the Reed Community.
As a Woman of color, I spend a lot of my time at Reed wondering where I fit. I straddle this line of feeling simultaneously hyper-visible and invisible—lost in a sea of people who look almost nothing like me and who have experiences disparate from my own. Being one of very few Black women on campus, I have days where I feel like I will never find a space that I can fully occupy. I often feel like I will never be able to speak loud enough to be heard. Some days I shy away from wanting to be heard at all. My reasonings for this are multifarious and complex, and come from a background that cannot be explained in the space that I have here. I will say though, that these feelings of alienation come in waves and have put me in a place where I have learned to better listen to the words and thoughts of my classmates. They have also made me more mindful of the things that I say.
After being at Reed for three years, I am happy to say that I have been able to find spaces where I feel that I can comfortably exist. That being said, I still wonder if this is the right environment for me. I wonder whether or not I made the right decision in attending a school that during my freshman year had no functioning Black Student Union or a school that did not (and still does not) have an Ethnic Studies program. I am not saying that these programs and organizations are what make an academic institution racially and culturally inclusive. They do, however, reveal an institutional commitment and respect for diversity and the inclusion of underrepresented groups. However, having lived and learned amongst my fellow Reedies and seen the generally open-minded and inclusive mindset of my classmates, I have come to believe that despite Reed’s lacks, inclusivity can be (and in many respects, is) a reality here.
Which is why I was so deeply saddened and hurt by the comments that were exchanged on the Reed Relieves threads. During those discussions, myself and many other people of color were silenced. Our viewpoints and lived experiences were dismissed. Our discomfort was tossed to the side. We were not given space to speak. We were not given the opportunity to fully participate in these conversations like our (white) peers.
I end this letter with two pleas, two requests, and one wish.
My first plea is for every Reedie to take the time to consider the implications of their words and their actions. My second is for every Reedie to take the time to consider the backgrounds, the struggles, and the feelings of every person that they converse with, themselves included.
My first request is for every Reedie to take the time to fully listen to their peers whether it be in conference, during a lunchtime discussion in Commons, or in an online forum. My second is for every person at Reed who has ever felt like they do not belong to never stop speaking. Our voices are valid. Our opinions are more than worthwhile.
My wish is for discussions as dishonorable and painful as these to never happen at Reed again.
I wish you all the best and a wonderful second semester.
—Maya Campbell ’15