POSTED BY MATTHEW BOEDY

Students (English majors) in my University of North Georgia Advanced Expository Writing course that focuses this semester on the link between higher education and democracy were asked to write an editorial answering this specific question: Would I participate in a student-led campus protest? The editorial below is by Nicole Clifton, who is a pursuing a BA in English with a concentration in writing and publication.

UNC police offers confront protesters on April 30. 

I will not condemn student-led protests. I admire them, their goals, their leaders, and their participants. Several student-led protests have sparked substantial change in the past; however, the current environment of many U.S. higher-education institutions is not conducive for securing those results. As New York Times columnist John McWhorter puts it: “Passion counts for a lot. But the bottom line should be results.” In recent years, it has been rare that a student-led protest proved remotely successful, let alone achieved its goal.

This is why while I’m a university student, I won’t participate.

Aligning with McWhorter’s sentiment, my ultimate goal is results—to be able to make long-term, substantial differences when it comes to the injustices plaguing our world. For me, the greatest tool in my arsenal for making a long-term difference is the education I’m currently pursuing. Participating in a student-led protest, where my chances of facing academic disciplinary charges are currently disconcertingly high, poses a substantial risk to achieving this goal. Student protestors face the threat of being banned from campus as a result of their participation in student-led protests, interrupting their education substantially and potentially costing them their eligibility to graduate or ever be accepted at another higher-education institution. When students lose their opportunity for an education, they lessen their long-term ability to make a difference—to motivate notable change against injustices. This may not be true for all students, but for those like me—who don’t come from families of notable funds or social connections—education is the strongest tool in our arsenals to make an impact on the world. This is why the current environment on campus is not ready for results.

This goes beyond the piece of paper we receive upon completing our studies. The skills, knowledge, and perspectives we gain from our time pursuing a degree enable us to obtain stability, influence, and security—if we play our cards right. And that’s part of the purpose of higher education—it gives us the tools we need to succeed, and it teaches us how to use them.

To be the most capable of instigating long-term change, we need to finish our educations. To gain even more opportunities and influence, we may even further them through graduate studies. The consequences of participating in a student-led protest endanger both these endeavors. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still make a difference while pursuing our educational goals.

In the words of human rights activist Ginetta Sagan, “Silence in the face of injustice is complicity with the oppressor.” Look at the conflicts between Israel and Palestine, between Russia and Ukraine; the ramifications of overturning Roe v. Wade; the casualties in American school shootings. Look at systemic racism in our education system, among other forms of discrimination. Look at the protests responding to them—they’re a scream at authorities and institutions of power against these injustices.

We don’t need to ask what inspires these protests to happen. But what we should ask is: what has changed on campus – specifically in administration offices – that has made student-led protests much more difficult? Once that is answered, we might then ask what methods other than protesting can students employ to challenge injustices?

Earlier this year, in just two weeks of nationwide campus protests responding to the Israel–Palestine conflict, over 2,000 students and faculty were arrested by police who often acted at the request of university administrators. But why?

When it comes to people’s rights during protests, the guidelines are fairly simple and clearly stated. For example, in Georgia, protesters must hold their protest in a public place, remain peaceful, not obstruct traffic (vehicle or pedestrian), and, if needed, obtain a permit (e.g., if the protest involves a larger number of participants or will use noise amplifying equipment). Additionally, the University of North Georgia (where I’m pursuing my degree) lists the public places on campus where it permits expressive activity, explains when it is necessary to request a reservation for use of those locations, and outlines its policies for acceptable behavior during protests.

Of course, things are almost never as simple as they seem, especially in environments where chaos ensues, like protests involving arrests. One complication is many of those arrested at protests are never charged. Then there are the academic disciplinary charges which are overseen by institutional elements that according to one lawyer “operate in a quasi-legal structure of their own.” Not only do students have to learn their institution’s policies alongside state and federal laws for protests, but their institution’s policies are subject to change in a much more rapid and less public manner, as seen with Indiana University students’ campus protest earlier this year. There policies were changed the night before the protest—without informing students or faculty. School administrations then called in state troopers, leading several students and faculty members to be arrested and banned from campus.

While I trust my university never to do something like this, the reality is that this transgression of integrity by Indiana University sets a precedent that other universities could do the same.

Is participating in a student-led campus protest even worth the risk?

For me, it’s not. I want to make a difference. I eventually want to pursue a graduate degree to make an even greater difference. Participating in a student-led protest could jeopardize that. I will not remain silent in the face of injustice, but I recognize where my best chances lie in yielding long-term results.

While I’ve mentioned that obtaining an education is vital for many—including myself—to make a substantial difference in the world’s injustices, that doesn’t mean we can’t try to make a difference while pursuing our degrees. We can attend protests led by professional, reputable activists or social justice organizations (and pick up some pointers for protest planning and participating along the way); call or email our administrators, officials, or representatives; spread awareness of injustices and helpful social justice movements through social media; write and sign petitions; or find whatever other manner of activism best suits us in our present situations.

Students of higher education institutions are in a unique position in that they are often being taught the historic importance of identifying and speaking out against injustices while actively learning about those prevalent today either inside or outside of the classroom. These higher education institutions also offer a gathering place for an innate conglomerate of like-minded and intentioned individuals and a convenient location for the protest to take place.

As an active undergraduate student myself, I can vouch for the truth of this environment, propitious for the planning and execution of a protest. We see the injustices around us. We know the consequences of inaction. We know the history and basics of how to incite necessary change.

Passion we most certainly have. We can—and we will—make a difference. Our passion will bring about results. And one day maybe we’ll lead our own protests, just maybe not as students while the tumultuous dynamic of higher-education institutions’ current policies towards protests persists.