We do not yet know the name or the precise intentions of the person who hung a noose on the office door of an African-American Teachers College professor on Tuesday, and it's possible we never will. One thing is certain, however: while the apparent premeditation and directness of this offense are especially chilling, the incident is far from unique in Columbia's recent history. It is joined by the racist graffiti found on a SIPA bathroom wall several weeks ago, slurs and excessive force allegedly used during the arrest of an Asian-American student last month, and the scrawling of anti-Semitic language on the wall of a Ruggles suite in 2005, among others. In the coming days, the fresh wound of Tuesday's outrage and the scars of prior offenses will surely spur further discussion and demonstrations on campus. We hope that the Teachers College incident, abhorrent as it was, will move more members of the Columbia community to join this dialogue already in progress.
Many have argued that by responding publicly to nonviolent acts of hatred, this community lends credibility to disgraceful behaviors and deepens the very sense of fear that their perpetrators hope to inspire. That is an understandable sentiment, but it misses the point. While it is imperative that we not be intimidated by faceless attacks, it would be both foolish and dangerous to sweep them under the rug when they do occur. Hatred, especially in such a cold-blooded form, requires confrontation, not silence.
Similarly, many are content to view each act of hate at Columbia as unconnected and beyond collective recourse. Like the blind men and the elephant—each touching a different part of the animal, each offering a different theory for what he feels—this logic ignores the larger beast. Is every Columbia student to blame for what happened Tuesday morning? Of course not, but that's not the point. As with some past bias incidents, this occurred in an area restricted to CUID holders and registered guests. If nothing else, that should disturb us to the point of public outcry.
Certainly, acts of hatred are neither unique to Columbia nor alone among the injustices that occur on campus each year. Violence and fear are perpetrated in many places and forms, usually in ways that do not attract the public's attention. But to write this off as an unavoidable incident or to throw up our arms in exasperation at the scope and nebulousness of the problem would be gutless. That the sickness of hatred extends far beyond Columbia's gates is no excuse for indifference or inaction toward its symptoms here.
Not so long ago, the noose was more than just a symbol in this country; it was an instrument of murder. Decades of social progress—much of it hatched in educational environments such as ours—changed that. As players in an institution charged with better understanding and improving the world in which we live, it is incumbent on members Columbia's community to help eradicate of the specters of hatred that still haunt us today.
Comments
We're looking for comments that are interesting and substantial. If your comments are excessively self-promotional or obnoxious you will be banned from commenting. Consult the comment FAQ and legal terms.