Huddled in the depths of a tower in New York sat nine students from different corners of the country. Sneakers poked out from dress pants, each student draped in expressions of their individuality.
For two hours ideas of activism, equality, empathy and social action bounced back and forth. We discussed not only the bill in Arizona banning ethnic studies and an entire body of books, but the teach-ins, protests and networks we are supporting and creating. We shared tales of everyday battles, personal failures and successes, and how to fight for what you stand for.
A few hours later in a room next door, top academics met for a double session. The room was silent as one after the other they read their latest articles, 12-letter words melding together to squeeze into the allotted 15 minutes. With the “two minutes to go” sign, these words became an amalgamation of complex theoretical concepts.
Then my peer and I told a story. As the only undergraduates allowed to present at the conference, perhaps it was pushing the boundaries of academic legitimacy, coming from that little potato-growing place called Idaho. But as we wove a story and engaged the audience of academics through drawing and asking questions, we noticed a strange thing. People started listening. In part it was an anthropological experiment, and partly a statement we do not wish to theorize — we wish to do, beginning now.
I sometimes feel guilty for criticizing the intricately constructed systems and knowledge of my elders. I have great respect for their work, in the field and the classroom. However, I also feel confident in saying well respected professors should show support and solidarity for up-and-coming professionals. And, of course, some did and they were wonderful. Yet, there was something strange about the conversations I had with the panelists and keynote speakers.
The top professional anthropologists did little to hide the feelings behind their eyes and messages of their body language. It’s easy to tell when you’re being dismissed. That glossy look appears in their eyes as they stop listening and look past you, their answers to questions are perfunctory, and responses to your professional concerns are non-existent.
When a prospective student applies to schools he or she generally prioritizes a selection of universities based on prestige, price, exclusivity and departmental focuses. Students often make a wish list of schools they know they can’t get into because of one reason or another, generally price or application requirements. I was nervous to present a paper in front of tenured professors from these wish list schools. That is, until I watched their presentations and asked them questions.
It is particularly disheartening when you hear the same professors complaining “we just don’t have any (revolutionaries) in the field anymore.” Of course this is just the opinionated bias of an undergraduate from a poor school, but perhaps we could begin by mentoring the youth of today. Perhaps when young people ask questions about the field they are studying they shouldn’t be avoided or transformed into a platform for a professor to talk about their own work.
I understand that everyone is caught up in this hierarchy, a pecking order I feel confident in assuming you are not at the top of. We understand that tenure is desirable, and that these rungs on the ladder mean more academic freedom and a more comfortable life. But if an academic at the top level does not support students, the new generations will still mold their dreams. They will simply do it without the structure of the academy.
True engagement uses academia to support the needs, voices and dreams of people around the world — not to support the hegemonic cycle of perpetual publishing and profit. Our publicly funded mountains of knowledge can make a real difference through active civic engagement.
As a student, I choose to make the commitment of tens of thousands of dollars to my field of study. I believe in what I study as a tool for change. I choose to invest years of my life to a scholastic journey and will gladly fly to New York to discuss my concerns with current professionals.
I just ask one thing of the academy: Listen to the voices of the majority you were created to serve. Universities were built for students and the greater good of society, not the other way around.
Bethany Lowe can be reached at [email protected]