I had a lot of “ah-ha” moments while reading this piece. Like I said last week, I am ever grateful the education I am receiving because I am still collecting vocabulary words and theories that speak to the things I have experienced and seen. La Paperson’s idea of the Third University is truly revolutionary, not only because it redefines how we view power, education, and representation but, it is also something that is already present. The very space we are in during your class is proof.  This mini book was really validating for me. There have been many moments during my time in higher education that I have felt that something wasn’t right and most of the time, I was made to feel that I was overreacting; but I knew I was not. It is an interesting feeling, not being able to name or identify the violence you face. For the rest of my response, I will talk about my experiences going to a Second World University and working at First World University.

I went to a second university school for my undergrad. It was a small, liberal arts PWI in the middle of the nowhere Pennsylvania. There were obvious instances of microaggressions, blatant discrimination, and even violence. I was lucky enough to have been recruited with a group of students who became my tribe, had advisors who cared for my complete well-being, and was a member of scholarship program guide.The college touted the liberal arts idea of being unique, being of service to our communities, and being inclusive. Yet, the college had policies and priorities that were contradictory of these ideals, especially when it came to the success of marginalized students. This reminds of La Paperson saying that we all have a complex relationship with the colonial perspective because we all are products of it.

While I will speak highly of my alma mater for giving me the space to discover who was I outside of my neighborhood and challenging me to think beyond my expectations, I cannot imagine what I would think if I were to go back now (especially considering my growing vocab). I think back to my last year and I can see what La Paperson was talking about when they said, the decolonial desires can be present in a colonized space. Myself, along with the majority of black, latinx, disabled, and LGTBQ seniors formed what we called “The Coalition”. The upperclassmen, the ones who made it thus far, had seen how the administration had used our faces to promote inclusivity while not providing the necessary support to stay at there, all but pushing black faculty out, not responding to hate crimes on campus, and gutting the “diversity department”. Our first meeting was just a group my friends (it’s important to note that it was a majority of black queer women), complaining about we barely made it to senior year (and not because we couldn’t keep up with academic rigor) while also lamenting the loss of yet another black faculty member. It was really organic, we were all very active, the presidents of diversity/affinity clubs and were connected our other marginalized folk. After our collected our club members and friends, we acted. We staged protests, sit-ins, class walk-outs, and marches. We met with administration but knew we would not be taken seriously, so we started reaching out to trustees. Many of us weren’t too optimistic about the work of “The Coalition” during our time; we knew they were waiting for most of us to graduate so, we trained the freshmen. I am almost five years out of college. One of the original members of “The Coalition” went back for an alumni event. Several students thanked her for our work. There are mandatory classes on cultural inclusivity, more initiatives and support for students of color, and even recruitment has become more honest. I am super proud to have been a part of that but more importantly I am happy knowing that  marginalized students are passing down this idea that their voice is important and necessary. If that is not decolonization in action than I don’t know what is.

I work at a First World University. The institution is a private university in Brooklyn that has awful graduation and retention rates. The administration prides itself on changing the lives of their students but they really only leave many of them with an astounding debt and no degree. When I first started working here, I thought it was me. I thought I was missing something or that maybe I was relying too much on the student perspective. I know better than that now; students tell the truth. The way they are treated is actually quite sick. The university systematically targets poor students, first-generation immigrants, first-generation college students, and other marginalized students knowing that many of them will not be able to graduate. They encourage them to take out financial aid packages that drops off after the second year and when the students go to them trying to figure out how they got into this situation, they are vilified. The school’s interest in expanding and selling property is pushed not to create a better space for the students but to increase the overall revenue of the university. La Paperson’s talks about this when they discusses the academic-industrial complex. The administrators who do care are burnt out because they are the only ones who can provide students with some kind of support. Watching the power dynamics as an outsider (I work for a non-profit that is housed in the campus life office), I see a lot. No one is forthright, the higher ups like to pit faculty and lower level administrators against one another all while the students wander aimlessly.  It has been an interesting and exhausting time here but while I watch, I’m also taking note.

CITATIONS:

la paperson. A Third University Is Possible. University of Minnesota Press, 2017.

*Note: la paperson is the gender-nonconforming pen name of K. Wayne Yang. I used “they” pronouns when discussing la paperson to respect the author’s identity*