Captivating personal stories
tells about the people who live it.
Maybe I need a divorce. I have been a Servant Leader at colleges and universities in and around Pittsburgh since 2005.
As I watched Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and MacArthur Genius Fellow Nikole Hannah-Jones grapple with the typical baseness of black women I know as the norm in higher-level newspapers, my throat felt dry. I was disgusted to read about the controversy over Hannah-Jones being denied employment * for a university position traditionally associated with this benefit.
I recently decided to step down from my position as Executive Director for Diversity, Equity and Inclusion at a college in a neighboring state because commuting and stress became too much for me. It was a tough decision, but I knew it had to be done for my health and wellbeing. I was invited to apply for two other positions at institutions that I know well. I jumped through the rings of fire. I told them how much I would like to work on their teams. I turned on my digital reputation monitor to look for terms that would mark me as undesirable if I post them on my social media accounts, like “cop,” “racism” or “black” or “life” or “Matter”. And then I waited.
I finished projects, watched students graduate, cried with those who didn’t, and waited a little longer. Months passed and I was faced with the reality that I had to cast a wider web in order to find a new job in higher education.
I was looking for HR and administrative positions.
I usually didn’t have faculty jobs. These are very difficult to get for women of color in PWIs (predominantly white institutions). Fun Facts: A colleague at a university once asked me what a PWI was. Another time a colleague at a university asked me what Title IX was.
The things that concern me at a university are not important to everyone, and no diversity training has changed that in the last 16 years. The pay was terrible. I once reported directly to a white woman who was making six times my salary, a fact I learned while reading the institution’s 990 to the IRS. I struggled to find affordable housing. She had an apartment on campus made available to her by the institution.
At one point I found myself in education and faculty support for someone I realized had never taught a course or held a faculty position.
Add to that the fact that I was on a team of nearly 70 people who couldn’t keep more than one or two colored workers for more than a few years. I was seated at the table with an all-white leadership team with only one or two people who ever had to do the work we were leading, let alone the work of considering diversity, equity and inclusion.
“It will not be easy to put my new life as an independent scholar together,” writes Tahirah Walker. “I will schedule regular therapy sessions. I will listen to loved ones when they cheer me on, and I will have confidence.” (Photo by Ryan Loew / PublicSource)
When I got the job as Executive Director, people thought I was going to advance.
They wanted to contradict the offer. Guess what? I made less money with the new job. I went because I wanted to go where I would be valued and respected. I was fed up with arguing with whites about why I should have been tapped for projects where our unit allegedly cracked down on racism. I left because it was more appealing to make change in a smaller institution than being able to say that my favorite world-famous historian, poet, and social worker was across the street in that literal ivory tower on campus.
And like the city itself, Pittsburgh’s rich college landscape is livable for only a few.
It would have been a dream if I hadn’t discovered a sad truth. The presumption of incompetence, a cesspool of microaggression and misogyny was not an isolated case in higher education. In fact, it was ubiquitous. I asked why I hadn’t seen it earlier.
Why had I built a career in a place that was never really made to accept my presence? The answer to this has two parts. In my early years in the sector, I had two great leaders. They fought valiantly for justice and inclusion and stood by the marginalized when we faced unfair treatment. Like my dominant cultural colleagues, I was not perfect. But these two people made sure that I never gave up on myself and my worth as a professional. When the leadership changed, it did too. Unfortunately, I did not know that what I had experienced was abnormal. I basked in this naivety for far too long, and when I emerged into the reality of post-secondary education, I was numb as copper.
And now I feel completely oxidized.
My disenchantment probably only solidified months before, on February 10th to be precise. I had received an anonymous suggestion from a colleague who informed me that my DEI programming was missing. The note began, “I would like to see more white culture programs …” Ten days of Black History Month had been too much for this person. My boss didn’t do anything about it. I turned to allies on campus. White allies. Together we ran a workshop on white culture that I hope would have made Princeton University historian and professor emeritus Nell Irvin Painter proud. I was guided by your book, The History of White People, and these people came for me. But the damage was already done and I could no longer explain these experiences away as peculiarities. I recognized them by the descriptions in Isabel Wilkerson’s “Caste”. This is a centuries-old script that is played over and over again in American institutions of all kinds.
similar posts
And like the city itself, Pittsburgh’s rich college landscape is livable for only a few. Of course, I am not suggesting that there are no times when minorities rise above oppression. Nor am I suggesting that people with a dominant cultural background do not suffer harm from their treatment.
As award-winning writer and professor Christina Sharpe might say, this is only part of the trail behind a great suppression ship. Black people work in this wake to mourn our losses and create liberation through literature, music, visual arts, and much more. But I did this choppy job in higher education where the waves are wild. I’ve reached a point where I’m sick of drowning. So I bow. If this piece doesn’t burn all bridges, maybe I will go to some part-time teacher gigs to remind myself that the classroom is a magical place. I’ll try a consultation. Putting together my new life as an independent scholar will not be easy. I will schedule regular therapy sessions. I will listen to my loved ones when they cheer me on and I will have confidence.
I will continue.
Before starting my career in higher education, I worked as a secretary and liaison at the Albert Schweitzer Hospital in Haiti. Day after day, I watched people come there for life-saving medical care. Some of them traveled wounded, feverish, worried and broken for miles away. The hospital was a center for global and local talent. There have been many success stories. But that’s not why people came. They came because they believed there could be better. I have to believe that now too. I may not have figured it all out yet, but as my favorite Pittsburgh singer-songwriter INEZ wrote on her song “Hide & Seek”, “What do you do if you have to run away but your feet don’t move?” ..You go. You go away. You take the first step and then the next … you have to keep moving. ”I am deeply grateful to all of the allies who have supported me through so many of these miserable moments. For others out there who are leaving, safe travel. I wish you a peaceful journey.
* The Trustees of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill voted in favor Grant Nikole Hannah-Jones tenure on June 30, months after it was rejected and it became a public controversy. On July 6th, Hannah-Jones announced she would accept a permanent position at Howard University.
Tahirah Walker is a writer and teacher writing her liberation story in the Pittsburgh area. To send a message to Tahirah, send an email to firstperson@publicsource.org.
source https://collegeeducationnewsllc.com/pittsburgh-educator-describes-racial-injustices-in-higher-education/
No comments:
Post a Comment