Lack of effort towards true understanding silences minorities' voices
May 2017, Feature (TBD)
Creating opportunities to celebrate voices of color — through affinity groups and the annual Common Ground and Martin Luther King Jr. Day assemblies — is not unusual at St. Paul Academy and Summit School. It is rare, however, for students and faculty to find the stamina necessary to move beyond simple celebration and towards actual understanding and equality. Instead of moving towards understanding, SPA students and faculty usually attempt to celebrate students of color by over-glorifying their success, a practice that often leads to the silencing of that student’s voice.
Upper School History of Race teacher Ryan Oto believes that the over-glorification of minority students’ success can have deeply damaging effects. He describes a study where a scholar explored the question: What does it mean to put Martin Luther King Jr. on a pedestal for civil rights? This scholar talked to young African American students in various schools about MLK and then asked if they saw themselves as civil rights activists — to which many of them replied “no,” because they didn’t see themselves as good enough to be like MLK.
“[One of the African American students] couldn’t see himself as MLK, ‘cause he wasn’t smart, [persuasive or charismatic] enough, so he didn’t see himself as an activist in the first place and that was really alarming because that’s the future. Those are the people who need to be able to see themselves as making change,” Oto said.
Oto sees a similar trend at SPA when students or teachers glorify the success of former graduates, especially the success of former students of color, like Dalante Peyton (‘15) and Mansuda Arora (‘15).
“I definitely worry about what are we setting ourselves up for if we continue to make reference to former graduates as ‘look at how great this person was’ and they’re great, but the thing is everybody here is great, that’s why they’re here,’” Oto said.
K-12 Diversity Dean Karen Dye has seen this phenomenon happen her whole life, even with Caucasian students.
“This happens in every community, to be honest, not just for students of color [but] the additional layer of being a person of color does bring a different sort of focus on it especially when there are so few of somebody in the community...it puts you on a pedestal,” she said.
Dye saw SPA alum Mansuda Arora’s success with furthering the discussion around civil rights as an example of how this objectification can lead to the silencing of a minority student's’ voice.
“[Mansuda] was put on a pedestal because she spoke out and she was very vocal about how she felt and very active in trying to make change. [People] thought she was a great person but…it was more of ‘here’s a symbol of the person we want to be,’” Dye said. “[It] started turning negative when people realized they didn’t want to hear what she had to say.”
Dye describes how this elevation and success quickly turned to push back against minority students for members of Common Ground, an affinity group that offers a platform for students of color to speak out about issues that matter to them.
“I can name probably almost every Common Ground student in that first group of students who did monologues [in 2014] who I saw that happen to — they have their voice, but after that sort of honeymoon phase was over and everybody was like ‘oh, that was so brave, that was so great’ then especially those students who returned for that next year ‘okay, we’ve heard this before. Why are you still complaining? Why are you still whining?’ so yeah, it has happened,” she said.
Dye remembers Mansuda being the target of much of that negative feedback from the student body.
“People stopped listening to her...she didn’t have that same voice [her senior] year,” she said.
Even when the community was acknowledging or praising her work, Arora never felt like she had real support from the SPA student body.
“I educated people but I don’t feel like I changed minds...I never took any of the praise or awards seriously or took them to heart because I know white guilt speaking when I hear it,” she said.
However, Arora believes that the institutional support and acknowledgement she received at SPA played a significant part in her decision to become an activist.
“As a college student I have found that it is much harder to do the work when you are not being supported...I would say that when I was younger, if SPA hadn’t amplified the voices of seniors doing social justice work then I may not have become an activist,” she said.
And, although the acknowledgement for her work was important to Arora, she disliked how superficial some of the support seemed to be.
“I am opposed to performative activism. People never knew who I was in SPA until black kids started getting shot. The fact of the matter is that I would keep doing the work regardless of acknowledgement, but knowing that it is rare post high school graduation makes me more grateful towards receiving acknowledgement now,” she said.
Oto believes that being transparent with the narratives of minority students is one way to avoid this objectification and subsequent silencing.
“Ultimately, it comes back to a question we ask in history and social studies a lot, which is ‘who’s telling the narrative?’” Oto said. “Transparency in narrative, is one, always making sure I’m not speaking for someone else...and also [being] transparent about the context in which these stories are being told.”
Despite the potential harms possible for both minority students who are put on a pedestal and those who aren’t, Dye believes that it’s still vital for all students to continue to put their voices out there.
“We have to keep fighting the good fight even if there will be some times when it feels like we’re hitting a wall — so those students who are on the pedestal will hopefully continue to use their voices even if it’s not, at this point, received by the majority the same way,” she said. “[We need to] continue doing these things even when it doesn’t seem like people are as invested because it keeps it in their consciousness.”
Note: This version does not include a current students' interview. The interview will be added shortly.
Upper School History of Race teacher Ryan Oto believes that the over-glorification of minority students’ success can have deeply damaging effects. He describes a study where a scholar explored the question: What does it mean to put Martin Luther King Jr. on a pedestal for civil rights? This scholar talked to young African American students in various schools about MLK and then asked if they saw themselves as civil rights activists — to which many of them replied “no,” because they didn’t see themselves as good enough to be like MLK.
“[One of the African American students] couldn’t see himself as MLK, ‘cause he wasn’t smart, [persuasive or charismatic] enough, so he didn’t see himself as an activist in the first place and that was really alarming because that’s the future. Those are the people who need to be able to see themselves as making change,” Oto said.
Oto sees a similar trend at SPA when students or teachers glorify the success of former graduates, especially the success of former students of color, like Dalante Peyton (‘15) and Mansuda Arora (‘15).
“I definitely worry about what are we setting ourselves up for if we continue to make reference to former graduates as ‘look at how great this person was’ and they’re great, but the thing is everybody here is great, that’s why they’re here,’” Oto said.
K-12 Diversity Dean Karen Dye has seen this phenomenon happen her whole life, even with Caucasian students.
“This happens in every community, to be honest, not just for students of color [but] the additional layer of being a person of color does bring a different sort of focus on it especially when there are so few of somebody in the community...it puts you on a pedestal,” she said.
Dye saw SPA alum Mansuda Arora’s success with furthering the discussion around civil rights as an example of how this objectification can lead to the silencing of a minority student's’ voice.
“[Mansuda] was put on a pedestal because she spoke out and she was very vocal about how she felt and very active in trying to make change. [People] thought she was a great person but…it was more of ‘here’s a symbol of the person we want to be,’” Dye said. “[It] started turning negative when people realized they didn’t want to hear what she had to say.”
Dye describes how this elevation and success quickly turned to push back against minority students for members of Common Ground, an affinity group that offers a platform for students of color to speak out about issues that matter to them.
“I can name probably almost every Common Ground student in that first group of students who did monologues [in 2014] who I saw that happen to — they have their voice, but after that sort of honeymoon phase was over and everybody was like ‘oh, that was so brave, that was so great’ then especially those students who returned for that next year ‘okay, we’ve heard this before. Why are you still complaining? Why are you still whining?’ so yeah, it has happened,” she said.
Dye remembers Mansuda being the target of much of that negative feedback from the student body.
“People stopped listening to her...she didn’t have that same voice [her senior] year,” she said.
Even when the community was acknowledging or praising her work, Arora never felt like she had real support from the SPA student body.
“I educated people but I don’t feel like I changed minds...I never took any of the praise or awards seriously or took them to heart because I know white guilt speaking when I hear it,” she said.
However, Arora believes that the institutional support and acknowledgement she received at SPA played a significant part in her decision to become an activist.
“As a college student I have found that it is much harder to do the work when you are not being supported...I would say that when I was younger, if SPA hadn’t amplified the voices of seniors doing social justice work then I may not have become an activist,” she said.
And, although the acknowledgement for her work was important to Arora, she disliked how superficial some of the support seemed to be.
“I am opposed to performative activism. People never knew who I was in SPA until black kids started getting shot. The fact of the matter is that I would keep doing the work regardless of acknowledgement, but knowing that it is rare post high school graduation makes me more grateful towards receiving acknowledgement now,” she said.
Oto believes that being transparent with the narratives of minority students is one way to avoid this objectification and subsequent silencing.
“Ultimately, it comes back to a question we ask in history and social studies a lot, which is ‘who’s telling the narrative?’” Oto said. “Transparency in narrative, is one, always making sure I’m not speaking for someone else...and also [being] transparent about the context in which these stories are being told.”
Despite the potential harms possible for both minority students who are put on a pedestal and those who aren’t, Dye believes that it’s still vital for all students to continue to put their voices out there.
“We have to keep fighting the good fight even if there will be some times when it feels like we’re hitting a wall — so those students who are on the pedestal will hopefully continue to use their voices even if it’s not, at this point, received by the majority the same way,” she said. “[We need to] continue doing these things even when it doesn’t seem like people are as invested because it keeps it in their consciousness.”
Note: This version does not include a current students' interview. The interview will be added shortly.