I remember how it felt to be a college student in the mid-1980s, when the memory of the Civil Rights Movement was more immediate and fresh in the minds of my elders. Students like me who hoped to make some significant contribution to the common good had to wrestle with the seeming insignificance of the issues of our own time. From my relatively cozy position of privilege (as a white, male college student largely insulated from the effects of poverty and discrimination), I daydreamed about confronting injustice as boldly as those who marched with MLK to Selma, Alabama or organized bus trips to register African-American voters in the South. But in the 1980s there did not seem to be many demons as obvious as segregationist governors blocking schoolhouse doorways or lunch counter owners posting “Whites only” signs.
Instead we had disputes about what seemed like smaller or more technical matters relating to racial justice: How to retool university admission policies to provide equal opportunity, or how to manage university retirement fund investments to avoid indirectly supporting South Africa’s racist government. Activist students sometimes reached back for what seemed like old-school tactics anyway, organizing teach-ins and confrontations that evoked Vietnam War protests. I understood the impulse, and often agreed with their positions, but frequently felt like the old playbook just didn’t fit. What I wanted was a chance to stand firm in the face of unambiguous, racist evil. Chanting with a crowd or taking over buildings seemed to require more outrage and certainty than I usually felt in connection with the nuances of university policy.
I can see how it would be possible to spend a lifetime waiting for outrage and certainty, and vaguely regretting that fate did not drop me as an adult into Martin Luther King’s time so I could link arms with him and march for a better world. But these days, even in the absence of racist governors holding fast to segregation, I think there are plenty of causes worth fighting for, and systemic injustices worth fighting against. Like those of the 1960s, today’s causes are matters of life and death, love and hate, riches and poverty. We live in a great nation in which there is nonetheless profound and entrenched inequality of opportunity, and in which access to fundamental institutions still hinges on immutable characteristics. There may not be many demonic oppressors to resist and overcome, but that just makes the work of taking an appropriate and effective stand for justice more complicated, not less important.
So, UMBC, what opportunities do you see to pursue social justice? What are the great causes of our time, and how will you take your stand?
I can see how it would be possible to spend a lifetime waiting for outrage and certainty, and vaguely regretting that fate did not drop me as an adult into Martin Luther King’s time so I could link arms with him and march for a better world. But these days, even in the absence of racist governors holding fast to segregation, I think there are plenty of causes worth fighting for, and systemic injustices worth fighting against. Like those of the 1960s, today’s causes are matters of life and death, love and hate, riches and poverty. We live in a great nation in which there is nonetheless profound and entrenched inequality of opportunity, and in which access to fundamental institutions still hinges on immutable characteristics. There may not be many demonic oppressors to resist and overcome, but that just makes the work of taking an appropriate and effective stand for justice more complicated, not less important.
So, UMBC, what opportunities do you see to pursue social justice? What are the great causes of our time, and how will you take your stand?
Tags:
Posted: January 18, 2010, 10:32 PM