Temperature Check—Ice Cold

BY LORI LATRICE MARTIN

Nearly two and a half years ago, the world watched as George Floyd, a human being, had his life snuffed out by Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin. Officer Chauvin applied pressure to George Floyd’s neck while other officers made sure that he could not move, and another made sure no bystanders could intervene. The horror of watching George Floyd’s last nine minutes of life compelled some individuals and organizations to confront ongoing racial disparities, including the unnatural deaths of Black people at the hands of white law enforcement officials and ordinary citizens. Many organizations, including higher education institutions, issued statements denouncing racial injustices and expressed commitments to do better.

landscape with snow, icy water, and a small iceberg with a partly blue surfaceIf we were to take a take a temperature check of colleges and universities to determine the extent to which changes have occurred, we would conclude that little has changed, that the advancements that we hoped to witness have not materialized, and that there is a strong and stubborn resistance to meaningful change. Indeed, the climate for new and existing Black faculty members and administrators is not warm but may best be characterized as ice cold. I discuss the failed promises for racial reckoning in my new article for the Journal of Academic Freedom, “Black Out: Backlash and Betrayal in the Academy and Beyond.”

The killing of George Floyd led many colleges and universities to issue diversity statements, which often included acknowledgements about their institutions’ failure to respond to the ongoing calls from historically marginalized groups for greater equity on a host of issues. While some racial justice pledges resulted in new hires—particularly in the areas of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI)—there is evidence to suggest that such commitments were short-lived and disingenuous, as evidenced by backlash aimed at DEI initiatives and the ongoing unequal treatment and characterization of Black students, faculty, staff, and administrators.

Committees that had been created to address the naming of buildings after individuals with a demonstrated history of hostility towards Black people were dismantled. In places like Georgia, laws were passed to prohibit such name changes. Strategic plans that included roadmaps to diversity and diverse faculty hiring initiatives were abandoned. Holistic approaches to evaluating prospective students were called into question for fear that a more diverse student body meant that students of color were somehow academically inferior and that their presence on campus would threaten longstanding customs and traditions that donors and alumni revered.

The all too familiar explanations for colleges and universities’ inability to attract Black students, faculty, and administrators reemerged, especially in places like the Deep South, where institutions claimed they could not attract Black students, faculty, and staff because of their location—or blamed pipeline issues for the lack of qualified Black students, faculty members, and staff in some fields, especially in the sciences, engineering, and math.

The reality is that many colleges and universities have abandoned their previously stated commitments to creating more equitable spaces, and higher education remains a hostile environment for Black students, faculty, and staff. It is not uncommon for Black faculty at predominately white institutions (PWIs) to express reservations about recruiting other Black faculty because they know that their departments and their universities are not welcoming places—and they may find it unethical to promote units and institutions so lacking in collegiality toward them.

Talented Black faculty also understand that even after the killing of George Floyd, too many colleges and universities have reverted to hiring their white colleagues, especially for positions outside of the DEI space, because they consider them “a better fit.” Black faculty with strong publication records, years of administrative experience, creativity, and other talents are often met with hostility when they have the audacity to apply for open administrative positions. In some cases, search committees are hastily put together with almost exclusively white members who hardly bother to read the materials of Black candidates and seem confused that they would even apply for non-DEI positions. The hostility that many Black applicants encounter in interviews for administrative positions—for example, in the Office of Academic Affairs or the Office of the Provost—can be compared to the kind of interrogation Ketanji Brown Jackson underwent in her Supreme Court confirmation hearings.

Black administrators in mid-level positions are routinely blamed for the failure of chairs and directors to do their jobs. Deans and other administrators are far more comfortable chastising and micromanaging Black associate deans than risking angering their largely white chairs and directors. These Black administrators become the proverbial scapegoats and must deal with the undue stress and anxiety that comes with enduring micromanagement and self-interested political maneuvering.

It is not enough to promote historically marginalized fields of study such as African and African American studies from programs to departments, a trend that occurred in many colleges and universities after the killing of George Floyd. It is dangerous to blame such units for low enrollments when they do not have adequate support and instructional staff to support their visions and missions. Moreover, colleges and universities must take seriously reports that advisers are steering students away from such majors.

Colleges and universities cannot simply include more Black faces on their promotional materials as evidence of greater representation while continuing to treat Black students, faculty, and staff in ways that make them feel unvalued and underappreciated. Representation is not enough. You cannot “black out” the very people whose pain and suffering were the catalysts for transformation. Equity is essential. Pay Black faculty, staff, and administrators what they are worth. Grant them the same course releases and research leaves so readily given to their white counterparts.

Do what is right and not what is easy is not just a popular saying. It is an imperative if colleges and universities are going to fulfill their missions and be spaces where Black students, faculty, and administrators succeed professionally and feel a sense of community and belonging.

Lori Latrice Martin is associate dean in the College of Humanities and Social Sciences and professor in the Department of African and African American Studies at Louisiana State University.

Read the complete volume of the 2022 Journal of Academic Freedom here.