A
s a Muslim, I
quickly
learned
that the claims
of this being an
inclusive campus were not
as earnest as I originally
anticipated.
Every
year
I find myself expecting
instances
of
hate,
and
thus far I have never been
proven wrong.
For many students with
minority
identities
on
campus, issues like the
recent racist vandalism in
West Quad Residence Hall
are simply expected. This
is an issue demonstrated
over
and
over
at
the
University
of
Michigan,
as the administration and
faculty alike often ignore
the recurring acts of hate.
It is only a question of
when these incidents will
occur, rather than if they
will occur. Yet the question
of who can talk about these
issues is one that often halts
conversations that could
create any real change.
I am lucky that I feel
supported in writing about
my experiences on campus,
but I also know this can be
a challenge itself. Although
I do receive a lot of support,
I also get a lot of concern
about attaching my name
to such strong opinions
and putting a spotlight on
myself. I feel, though, that
the spotlight is already
on me in a way — as
everywhere I walk my hijab
reveals that I am Muslim —
so I might as well use it for
something.
As a future educator,
I also know publicizing
personal opinions can be
a problem when searching
for,
and
keeping,
jobs.
Teachers
are
generally
discouraged from sharing
too many of their opinions
with their students, unless,
of course, most parents
share that same opinion.
So though many newer
teachers
have
in-depth
knowledge on social issues,
the discouragement from
helping
society
move
forward is one that a lot of
teachers have to navigate,
when teachers can often be
one of the most important
catalysts of social change.
Similarly,
issues
of
diversity are not always
directly spoken about in
class and people are often
not expected to understand
nuances of diversity or
appropriate speech until
they are in the workplace.
This
university
only
serves as a microcosm of the
country as a whole, where
the line between acceptable
and unacceptable speech
begins to blur, and people
are taking advantage of
the
opportunity
on
all
sides.
As
Americans
in
2017 take to the streets
with torches in the name
of white nationalism and
Nazi slogans, the question
of where the line is seems
to disappear.
The campus debates over
how to handle incidents
of
hatred
reflect
the
greater
national
debate
on
how
such
incidents
should be handled. The
debates surrounding Colin
Kaepernick
kneeling
for
the national anthem only
intensified after President
Donald
Trump
publicly
stated anyone that who
kneels
for
the
national
anthem in the NFL should
be fired. In the aftermath
of
this
statement,
the
response from NFL players,
NBA players and fans alike
began to break another
barrier — one that often
keeps professional athletes
silent.
The distinction between
“hate speech” and other
forms of “allowable” speech
being pushed for by some
campus voices is a specific
point of contention. There
is no concrete definition of
“hate speech” in American
case law that can legally
be curtailed, though such a
distinction exists in many
European
legal
systems.
And yet, it is only when
hate
speech
is
publicly
condemned and restricted
in various ways that society
moves forward as a whole.
In the same way that
condemning
practices
like
blackface
or
Nazi
propaganda
undoubtedly
moves society forward, hate
speech should be classified
as wrong. But this is often
not the case. People often
use the guise of free speech
to justify verbal harassment
and hate speech without
realizing that there is a
moral logic behind many
of the laws that govern
society.
To
claim
that
there
is
no
underlying
morality or to trust that
people
understand
hate
speech using their own
judgements is unrealistic.
The question of why speech
is the exception to the rule
remains unanswered, and
when certain instances of
hate speech go from being
acceptable to unacceptable
only happens over a great
deal of time.
Rather than have clear
sets of rules defining hate
speech, this keeps incidents
of hate on campus and in
the United States as a whole
“debatable.”
Year after year I see the
same incidents on campus
and across America. I see
glimmers of hope as people
come together to condemn
hate,
but
the
mental
barriers have to be broken
if there can be any hope to
move forward. My identity
as a Muslim and a future
educator encourage me to
protest hatred on campus
and in society.
When
the
ideal
expectation is for people to
correct one another, how
is this supposed to happen
when so many are asked
to be silent? As a minority,
Muslim,
and
future
educator, I struggle with
this question each time I
choose to speak up even
when some might find my
opinions to create a biased
lens. And yet it seems that
some
issues
are
worth
kneeling for.
3B
Wednesday, September 27, 2017 // The Statement
Let’s talk about it: Kneeling for justice
BY RABAB JAFRI, COLUMNIST
ILLUSTRATION BY EMILY HARDIE