Life in Words

“This is not a small voice
you hear               this is a large
voice coming out of these cities.
This is the voice of LaTanya.
Kadesha. Shaniqua. This
is the voice of Antoine.
Darryl. Shaquille.
Running over waters
navigating the hallways
of our schools spilling out
on the corners of our cities and
no epitaphs spill out of their river mouths.”- Sonia Sanchez, 1934 (accessed from https://poets.org/lesson-plan/teach-poem-not-small-voice-sonia-sanchez)

I walked down the hallways of my campus for the last time, eager to have a conversation with my advisor. This was it, after four years of writing, studying, and reading, while also juggling being a wife and mom, my time had finally come. I strolled down the corridors confidently, eager to confirm that I had taken the right courses. As I made my way into the waiting area for their office, I realized that they were speaking to someone else. They were speaking in lower voices, so I assumed that the conversation was important. I sat on the wooden bench to wait until they were finished. I said nothing, not wanting to be rude. I attempted to read a book while they went back and forth, but their words gripped me. I did my best not to listen, but what they said next haunted me.

“I mean, honestly, we need to do away with this affirmative action. I mean my daughter couldn’t even get in. I think we need to let in people who truly deserve to be here,” a voice spoke. 

They went on to talk about how much of a disservice it was for “people” to be let in who don’t deserve it. I listened as she continued to rant about how disappointed she was that her clearly intelligent daughter didn’t make it into the university of her choice, and how those who didn’t belong, needed to be removed. 

I could hear my advisor with their “mhmm’s” and “yeahs”. They quietly distanced themselves from making any comments. I let his lackadaisical responses lead me to believe his indifference in that moment. 

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I was not surprised, because I knew that many white Americans felt like the very legislature that was meant to remedy the effects of Jim Crow and segregation, was meant to hurt them even more. But her words still weighed inside of me, painfully. They were talking about me, my people, and people who looked like me. 

They were talking about the millions of minorities who sit in the same position every year, being blamed for non-pocs for not making it into their desired university, or being consistently told that they did not earn the right to be there. They were talking about me, the mom in college who wrote her essay while holding the baby she had just given birth to hours before.

They were talking about my previous students, who might decide to college, and could be told that they do not belong. They were talking about those who might apply for a job, and could rejected, because their name sounds too black. They were talking about my daughter, who has told me that she wants to be a teacher, who could be fired for teaching about diversity and inclusion. 

I cleared my throat, knowing it would end their back door conversation. 

“Is someone there?” my advisor asked. 

“Yes,” I answered, “but I can come back later.”

“No, they said, you stay right there,” as they promptly dismissed their guest. 

When their visitor excited the office, the look on their face told it all. The immediate guilt and shame of having their beliefs exposed to the very person they were speaking of bulged in her wide eyes. It was quizzical to me, how they could be so confident and bold in their beliefs, willing to undermine the hard work of talented minority students, and erase their presence on campus, but couldn’t even look me in the eyes as they walked away.

I sat through my meeting with the words that had just been spoken piercing through my heart like a dagger, and yet I did what a lot of us do, I continued through as if I had heard nothing. I left full of regret. I blamed myself for not saying anything, but I was afraid. 

I was afraid that my advisor agreed because they did, right? Their quiet but subtle responses meant yes, right? And his guest, who I assumed to be a fellow professor, or educational professional, made their stance clear. I was afraid that my exposing their conversation in hushed tones and small voices would show me the true power of white opinion. I was afraid that, just like my advisor’s guest said, I would be erased. That somehow they would find a way to make it impossible for me to graduate.

And yet, here we are today, sitting in the ultimate erasure. 

Today’s decision illuminates the power of these back door conversations that white people lead themselves to believe are harmless drops in the buckets of political beliefs, but legislature always proves to be on their side. Today, like every day, we are shown just how much our systems want to erase black and brown folks from every sphere of life. 

The whisperings of anti-Critical race theory teachings have led to the obscuring and obliteration of true and complete histories of Black and Indigenous groups being taught in school curriculums, the firings of teachers, and the banning of books. The All-Lives Matter chants, a rebuttal to the Black Lives Matter Movement, has led to the erasure of why and how the Black Lives Matter movement even began, the upholding of systems that continuously harm and destroy Black bodies, and the legalization of gun violence against Black bodies, with laws that disproportionately affect our people. This Affirmative Action decision has us staring in the face of our worst nightmares and fears as it comes to education: re-segregation.

While the Supreme Court uses its colorblind rhetoric to try and lead us to believe that they are simply “leveling” the playing field for all people, we know that first, systemic restructuring in all areas, from the top down, in academia must take place to even begin the conversations on equity in education. To rectify years of systemic, structural harm and erasure, there must be radical systemic change within leadership first. They would have to acknowledge the terrible and horrific things done to black and brown folks in the admissions processes, to professors, to students, etc. And I pray that day will come, but this decision clearly defines who it benefits, and who has a say about it. 

While this is truly a slap in the face for teachers, educators, professors, students, and all involved in the education system, I have a hope in those of us who are constantly in the shadowed valleys of white supremacy. To those of you who are going to college soon, do not let this keep you from pressing on. 

To educators and dreamers everywhere, keep fighting the good fight. 

We are not a small voice.