I have truly enjoyed my time at Queen’s since arriving here last summer. I have also had several conversations with people whose experiences here have included (or in some cases, been defined by) acts of ignorance, harassment or overt bigotry. In each case, they have been hurt quite profoundly, and I find it quite diminishing to know that such an exceptional place can be blighted by acts of racism, sexism, homophobia and other forms of oppression.
Of course, the irony is that even the most well-meaning, decent people (I assume that is most of us) can unintentionally be a party to the marginalization of another. We have great difficulty discussing these issues, which interferes with addressing them. Consider, for instance, that the word “racism” (a scary and politically loaded word that I think has lost much of its valuable meaning as a result) often conjures up images of white supremacists, burning crosses and violence. Clearly, if such things manifested themselves on this campus I would expect an overwhelming outcry and response. Indeed, I am not talking about that kind of bigotry, but rather another form.
Several years ago, a teacher challenged me to consider the possibility that I personally participated in racism. At first, I found myself feeling very resentful of this suggestion. Moreover, I found myself secretly resenting people of colour for “making me feel this way.” I thought, “I am a nice person,” and “it’s not my fault that people of colour are oppressed.” I wondered why anyone would suggest that I might be racist, or even complicit with racism. It was later that I realized that the assertion wasn’t that I caused racism to exist (it obviously predates my birth). Rather, as a white person, I benefit from racism. That is, because of my skin colour, I enjoy certain privileges that are unearned, and which are often invisible to me. Peggy Macintosh, in her landmark essay, “Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack,” listed a number of examples of these unearned privileges. For instance, most media images not only represent white people, but they do so in a more positive manner; or that when I make a mistake, people tend not to secretly regard this as typical of my race. When I read the Henry Report, and especially in reading responses to date, I see how the assertion that there is a “culture of whiteness” at Queen’s has elicited some of the same feelings and reactions as those I personally had when I first started exploring what it means to be white.
Although the biggest elephant in the room, in my opinion, is the question of race, there are many others. I have become aware of crude remarks being made about Muslim students (or even verbal attacks and physical provocations) relative to Middle East politics and terrorism. Similarly, reports of anti-Semitic incidents have occurred as well. There are instances in which women (and men for that matter) are taunted for their ideas, dismissed by men who are “just joking.” I have met with women who have been sexually assaulted or systematically harassed by a male peer, or who have been verbally accosted by drunk (or not) male peers while walking down the street—male peers who by day are “great guys.” Even something as simple as the marketing of a dance can unintentionally promote and privilege one dominant image (e.g. heterosexual) of relationships while simultaneously eroding the self-esteem and safety of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, questioning and intersexed students.
So, how can we make Queen’s better? I have a few sincere suggestions. First, sit in the uncomfortable idea that you may unintentionally be complicit with a form of oppression, and that you certainly benefit from some form of unearned privilege—whether it’s simply due to having access to a Queen’s education, or because of your particular social identities. Use that lens as a catalyst for self-awareness, and as a reason to believe a person who tries to tell you his or her truthful experience of you (even if reflection doesn’t result in agreement). If you bristle at an unfamiliar face, food, faith or lifestyle, I encourage you to challenge yourself and to find words of connection—to see it as an opportunity to approach a new person and to broaden your experiences on this complex planet (and campus). I suggest that we embrace the difficult conversations about the “isms,” in the spirit of respect and human intimacy and connection. These suggestions will not eradicate the “isms,” but I do believe they will facilitate a culture at Queen’s that is defined by true and honest engagement across differences. In turn, I believe we will have even more to be proud of, and less to be afraid of.
—Jason Laker is dean of Student Affairs and associate vice-principal.
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