October 22, 2006
I feel like the protest reached its climax yesterday with the parade. My only concern is that the peak of excitement and support will only give way to lessened commitment to the cause and weakened enthusiasm to keep the battle up. Alumni are leaving, students are slowly working their way back into their schedules, and the administration is biding its time simply waiting for everything to go back to "normal".
Normal??? Will Gallaudet ever know what that means again?
"Normal" would hardly describe my experience at Gallaudet since the protests began last May. "Normal" means ignoring the world around you. "Normal" means not paying attention to the neglect and atrocities that are constantly swirling in an endless flurry of complicated emotions. It's like ignoring a disastrous storm and pretending that nothing is going on outside even though your home is crashing down around you.
Is Gallaudet crashing? The administration would rather we weather the storm; are they prepared to deal with the clean up?
Think about hurricane Katrina: Will the survivors of the storm ever go back to "normal"? The government would like to think so. The tourism industry would like to think so. Ignoring the storm and refusing to deal with the serious consequences of the events, regardless of who is responsible, is a failure to identify the real issues surrounding the circumstances of people that are theoretically supposed to be "cared for". The government has an obligation to take care of its citizens and survivors of Katrina; Gallaudet has an obligation to take care of its students. Both have failed.
The parade was amazing. While walking along 8th street we came to a slight hill and I looked back to see how many people were following the march. The crowd went on for blocks and blocks. No matter what the affiliation or agenda or … how do I say this?... Despite the seemingly "conflicted" issues that have presented themselves during the protest, the mere number of individuals who were willing to give up their Saturday to make a stand for something they believe in was simply inspiring. The so-called "dissenters" casually strolled for an hour up to the Capitol: chatting, smiling, seeing old friends, and reinforcing the sense of community.
In reading King's letters and Fernandes' interviews with the press one might imagine that the participants of the protest were a rowdy crowd of animals trampling over the "paradise" of Gallaudet. I looked around me at the march- where were the angry faces? Where was the "chaos"? The "terrorism"? That is (verbatim) what Fernandes has called the protest. I didn't see it.
The tactics of the administration are slowly becoming more apparent to the general public. Whenever I am out in DC and people see me signing with friends they immediately begin discussing the protest – and I eavesdrop. 2 weeks ago people were saying "I don't really understand what's going on. What's wrong with Fernandes anyway?" Now they have started to say "Wow, things are really happening over there. I really don't see why she doesn't just quit. The students have made their case… how can she be so stubborn?"
There were two articles in the Post on Friday that further illustrated the confusion and mixed messages circling the protest. The first article discussed the disagreement between members of the Board of Trustees and some of their calls for Fernandes to resign. It was a fair balance between the protestor's demands and the responsiveness (or lack of responsiveness, as it were) of the administration. I was pleased with it. The second article seemed more like an editorial, and depicted the struggle of poor Fernandes in her pursuit for success despite the monstrosity of obstacles in her path. The articles painted very different pictures of the situation at Gallaudet; any reader should be able to identify the lack of congruence between the two, thereby knowing that while the administration attempts to distribute "factual" information regarding the situation on campus it is obvious flawed and construed to fit their own agenda.
And what is the administration's agenda? Ah… to get back to "normal", of course.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Protest Journal, 18 October 2006
October 18, 2006
This is my first journal of which there should have already been many. Fatigue coupled with emotional upheaval (not to mention laziness) are mostly to blame, and I would like to make up for that by reflecting on all that has happened over the past few weeks… months, rather, here at Gallaudet with regard to the protest over the appointment of Jane Fernandes as the 9th President of the University.
It's been a nightmare, to put it lightly. I don't even know where to begin.
The curse of being a counseling student is the constant awareness of one's emotions, one's reactions to situations, and the unending analysis of the relationship between the two. Since Fernandes' announcement at the end of the spring semester I have been incessantly grappling with myself over my position, my involvement, my level of commitment, and my overall emotional well being.
Most of these had plateau-ed during the summer, and have only begun to change and take shape in the past month when the issues became increasingly more visible and … desperate. Time is running out.
Honestly… I don't know where to begin.
I have never been happy with the administration at Gallaudet. Everywhere you turn there are ridiculous and tedious rules that appear to exist for no reason. A rule can only be as strong as the rationale behind it; Gallaudet has always been lacking in its explanation of how its structure is built. "Welcome to Gallaudet" is an expression used most frequently by incoming freshman and 1st year graduate students meant to shrug off the frustrations of a system that obviously doesn't have its students' best interests in mind.
We have seen that attitude become abundantly clear in the past month's events.
I have seen many changes. My personal opinion of the protest has remained mostly the same since May: I do support the ideas of eliminating the "isms" of the current system, of having a diversified faculty, staff, and administration, and of unity for a common cause. My only issue with the protest from the beginning has been the varied agendas fought behind a common banner, cheapening some of the values I had and goals I supported.
Due to the gravity of the situation and the crucial need for solidarity in our voice to combat the administration, my initial hesitance to support the protest for the aforementioned reasons has fallen by the wayside. Yes, there are multiple agendas. Yes, some people are fighting for what I consider to be the "wrong" reasons. Yes, MANY new demands and calls for changes to the University that were not included in the original protest in May have been added.
It doesn't matter. The system must be changed. The issues must be addressed. Only by numbers and unity can this be accomplished, despite the confusion and chaos between agendas and purposes.
My concerns have been put aside. Those are to be addressed should Fernandes resign and the selection committee continues their work to find a new President.
It has been a difficult week. I have been suppressed from discussing the protest with my students at Kendall. I have seen letter after letter be sent in opposition to Fernandes, and continuously ignored by the administration and Board of Trustees. I have seen friends and peers cry. I have seen myself cry. We are all upset, and we are all hurting.
I have learned about sacrifice. I have learned to accept that sacrifice for a cause is important, and that some things must take a backseat- including my own education. How much am I willing to sacrifice for the protest??? I don't know. But more than I thought I would, that is for certain.
I have seen people look me square in the face and say "this protest doesn't effect the academic education of the students" at Kendall. I have seen the PR office distribute lie after lie about the "dissenters". I have watched an administration stall and hope that the momentum of the protest will die out. Perhaps it will … many people who are uninformed about the issues would like that.
I heard my own elementary students at Kendall say "I don't feel safe" the night of the arrests. I have cried so many times over this that I can't believe it. That one moment will remain fused in my emotional hardwiring for quite a long while. The ONE place where deaf children should feel safe- from oppression, from the hearing world… from a world that doesn't understand them and their extraordinary uniqueness- wasn't safe for them.
I'm crying even now.
How can that one moment affect me so strongly?
I've had it.
This is my first journal of which there should have already been many. Fatigue coupled with emotional upheaval (not to mention laziness) are mostly to blame, and I would like to make up for that by reflecting on all that has happened over the past few weeks… months, rather, here at Gallaudet with regard to the protest over the appointment of Jane Fernandes as the 9th President of the University.
It's been a nightmare, to put it lightly. I don't even know where to begin.
The curse of being a counseling student is the constant awareness of one's emotions, one's reactions to situations, and the unending analysis of the relationship between the two. Since Fernandes' announcement at the end of the spring semester I have been incessantly grappling with myself over my position, my involvement, my level of commitment, and my overall emotional well being.
Most of these had plateau-ed during the summer, and have only begun to change and take shape in the past month when the issues became increasingly more visible and … desperate. Time is running out.
Honestly… I don't know where to begin.
I have never been happy with the administration at Gallaudet. Everywhere you turn there are ridiculous and tedious rules that appear to exist for no reason. A rule can only be as strong as the rationale behind it; Gallaudet has always been lacking in its explanation of how its structure is built. "Welcome to Gallaudet" is an expression used most frequently by incoming freshman and 1st year graduate students meant to shrug off the frustrations of a system that obviously doesn't have its students' best interests in mind.
We have seen that attitude become abundantly clear in the past month's events.
I have seen many changes. My personal opinion of the protest has remained mostly the same since May: I do support the ideas of eliminating the "isms" of the current system, of having a diversified faculty, staff, and administration, and of unity for a common cause. My only issue with the protest from the beginning has been the varied agendas fought behind a common banner, cheapening some of the values I had and goals I supported.
Due to the gravity of the situation and the crucial need for solidarity in our voice to combat the administration, my initial hesitance to support the protest for the aforementioned reasons has fallen by the wayside. Yes, there are multiple agendas. Yes, some people are fighting for what I consider to be the "wrong" reasons. Yes, MANY new demands and calls for changes to the University that were not included in the original protest in May have been added.
It doesn't matter. The system must be changed. The issues must be addressed. Only by numbers and unity can this be accomplished, despite the confusion and chaos between agendas and purposes.
My concerns have been put aside. Those are to be addressed should Fernandes resign and the selection committee continues their work to find a new President.
It has been a difficult week. I have been suppressed from discussing the protest with my students at Kendall. I have seen letter after letter be sent in opposition to Fernandes, and continuously ignored by the administration and Board of Trustees. I have seen friends and peers cry. I have seen myself cry. We are all upset, and we are all hurting.
I have learned about sacrifice. I have learned to accept that sacrifice for a cause is important, and that some things must take a backseat- including my own education. How much am I willing to sacrifice for the protest??? I don't know. But more than I thought I would, that is for certain.
I have seen people look me square in the face and say "this protest doesn't effect the academic education of the students" at Kendall. I have seen the PR office distribute lie after lie about the "dissenters". I have watched an administration stall and hope that the momentum of the protest will die out. Perhaps it will … many people who are uninformed about the issues would like that.
I heard my own elementary students at Kendall say "I don't feel safe" the night of the arrests. I have cried so many times over this that I can't believe it. That one moment will remain fused in my emotional hardwiring for quite a long while. The ONE place where deaf children should feel safe- from oppression, from the hearing world… from a world that doesn't understand them and their extraordinary uniqueness- wasn't safe for them.
I'm crying even now.
How can that one moment affect me so strongly?
I've had it.
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