Week One, Strike Two
In my first week of law school, a tenured 1L professor used the N word in class. I did not intend to write this kind of post when reflecting on my first week, but here we are. Luckily, this wasn't my professor, but I was shocked to hear the story from my peers.Apparently, the professor was acting out the disagreement which preceded a tort case wherein the plaintiff was denied service at a restaurant due to his race. While racism was certainly an issue in the facts of the case, the transcript of the opinion used the term "negro," (an undeniably hurtful word) which was a commonly used legal label in the era of this case. The professor, on the other hand, said the N word with a hard R, as if it wasn't already bad enough to revive either version of that slur in a classroom! Students reported that he said it in a flippant, relaxed manner, as if he had comfortably said it many times before. Even worse, no one spoke up and questioned him.Coming from a predominantly white college to a predominantly white law school, I was expecting the usual "brush it under the rug" attitude from administration, but I was surprised by the speed with which students organized to hold the professor and administrators accountable. Within hours, an emergency Black Law Students Association (BLSA) meeting was scheduled with the dean of the law school in attendance. The dean spent hours listening to students' complaints and suggestions for administrative actions moving forward. This meeting left me with my brain buzzing.First of all, I am so thankful for the culture of acceptance and solidarity that BLSA cultivates. Though I don't identify as black, I was repulsed and hurt by this incident, and BLSA made it easy for me to get involved. BLSA also me feel proud to to show solidarity with my fellow POC classmates. The members have learned to articulate the merits of cross-cultural solidarity more elegantly than I've experienced anywhere else. I found that to be so moving and powerful. Furthermore, this is the first space where I have seen multiple non-black Desis being active members in pro-black organizations. Normally our networks limit themselves to peripheral allyship, falling short of addressing our own privilege in American race politics, and neglecting to confront anti-blackness in our communities. In college, not only did my South Asian friends never attend meetings for the Organization of Black Students (OBS), several expressed that they were "scared" of the OBS board. (problematic? YES!) After festering in that unproductive environment, I'm excited to lean into my role as an ally and challenge separatism among minority advocacy groups.In the meeting, it was heartbreaking to hear how several black students reported feeling physically ill and scared about their future in the class. How were they going to talk to that professor privately in office hours? Would students start using those slurs next? How was this situation going to escalate? And why did it seem that everyone in the class was looking at them to gauge their reactions, but no one was saying anything? These anxieties mounted on top of the "regular" suite of abuses from non-black classmates, such as questioning the origin of black students' hair or whether they "only got in because of affirmative action." These stories reminded me that hate speech may not be a physical attack, but hateful language cultivates an environment of exclusion, which builds until it feels like psychological warfare. Definitely not the best addition to a rigorous academic environment.The logistics of the meeting were vastly different in content compared to what I'm used to. I attended the University of Chicago for college, which has an administration that champions 'free speech' to a fault. Throughout my three years at UofC, many students and teachers used slurs and very little was done by the administration. Furthermore, any time a student group was able to sit down with deans or the provost, these discussions were censored, limited to a select group of students, and often thickly tense with the feeling that administrators wanted nothing to do with students advocating for social justice. At my law school, I was comforted by the willingness of multiple deans and professors to give students the floor to express themselves, as well as their ardent apologies on behalf of the community, and their affirmations of student pain.
On the other hand, I learned some shocking and painful stuff in this meeting. We were told law school faculty were not given any cultural sensitivity training, despite students being required to go through those very sessions during orientation. This seemed strikingly hypocritical. Furthermore, I realized that our own cultural sensitivity training did not go far enough if no student felt they could speak up in the class when this happened. The failure to equip students with knowledge on how to intervene, combined with the shallowness of our internal bias training, were the first mistake that the institution made with regards to race this year. The professor's comments were the inevitable strike two. Many of us also felt let down by our classmates. Lots of my non-black classmates were quick to describe the BLSA complaints to the dean as "whining" and have argued that the professor deserves to continue teaching without being punished.The day after the comments were made, BLSA students organized to silently occupy the back of the professor's classroom as he delivered his apology. I found strength standing shoulder to shoulder with others who found the professor's actions reprehensible, and I feel that our presence successfully translated the severity of the professor's mistake to those in the classroom. Unsurprisingly, his apology seemed like a list of excuses rather than an expression of true regret. Later that day, a statement was circulated to the whole law school, saying that the professor has been temporarily removed from teaching courses while the Office of Equity and Inclusion conducts an investigation. I felt that this was a fair response to the professor's actions, but unfortunately, the change in instructor and syllabus has disrupted at least 80 first year students' reading schedules.
This week sparked many conversations about race on campus, and I began to realize that some of the remarks I had brushed off as beginning-of-the-year awkwardness were truly insensitive. I'm working on recognizing that kind of thing faster, and speaking out in the moment rather than letting it sit. Despite a blooming awareness of potentially toxic social undercurrents, this week has been extremely rewarding.I think I've carved out a niche =of radical and uplifting friends. My boyfriend is visiting me next week, and my I've already planned a picnic with my new pals so that he can meet them. I've met a surprisingly large number of students from Chicago, and it's always comforting to connect with people from a similar background and with links to the same organizations far away.The assignments (the real reason I'm here, lol) have been a steady source of challenge and fulfillment. I'm definitely not used to reading this much or this closely every single night, but I feel proud of myself whenever I finish an assignment. It's also so thrilling to think about how any of the material I'm learning from this moment onward could be used in a courtroom to win a real case. Additionally, my professors seem genuinely excited to teach us, and I appreciate the support many of them have already offered me. Truth be told, I'm already a tad behind on readings, but I think this weekend will put me back on the right track.Next week, a variety of student organizations in the law school have planned to stand in unity on the law school lawn to remind the community that we do not tolerate hate. I'm looking forward to finishing these case briefs and joining in.