Throughout the course of our education, the ideals of our Western forefathers are impressed upon us. We are expected to become agents of free speech, advocates for democracy, and pioneers in progressivism. Engraved upon the columns of Butler library and expressed throughout the classrooms, such ideals are assumed to be at the forefront of our minds and are imagined to permeate throughout campus. For many, these utopian ideals are a reality. But for some—in this case the members of campus security—their voices are only heard, or tolerated for that matter, if they are quaint, complacent, and courteous. For many members of campus security, their voices are simply not as respected as those whose names are engraved on the buildings they tirelessly secure. Until now, many guards have not had the opportunity to voice to the Columbia community the injustices they have suffered and want to see changed. They want their voices to be heard.
I was made aware of the dismissed complaints that many campus security guards have struggled with while taking a survey about improvements suggested by campus staff. While many had no comment or claimed that they were completely “neutral,” one guard asked, “How much time do you have?” Once told that he would be quoted anonymously, he began to divulge what most were leery of even alluding to. He explained how security guards have been writing and sending anonymous letters to the their peers and to the president’s office, but they refuse to release their names in fear of losing their jobs.
He elaborated on this influx of complaints with the fact that “a lot of information is accurate ... [just] most of it is dismissed.” In his opinion, it is a relative lack of eloquence in writing that leaves these security guards at a disadvantage when confronting the administration of an Ivy League institution. In addition to sharing one of these letters with me, he decided that he wanted to publicize several other stories that he felt had been unjustly dismissed.
He reported that just two weeks before Christmas, one of his peers who worked “26 years for this university was fired for not renewing guard license on time.” He is now unemployed with three children. But this wasn’t a surprise to the officer I spoke to. Apparently, it is known among most guards that Columbia tends to let people go right before the holiday season.
Before leaving for the end of his shift, he made sure to hand me a copy of one of the letters that he had received in the mail entitled “Inappropriate Behavior.” The letter begins by addressing University President Lee Bollinger with a clear declaration of dissatisfaction and a desire for change. In it, the writer asserts that a variety of prejudices and monetary interests leave many “to sweat to get overtime” and that he and his peers are “treated like scumbags.” He concludes that it is simply the “philosophy of this administration” to allow the injustices to continue. In addition to the fact that the guard genuinely feels wronged and ignored, what is more compelling is how this Columbia community member expresses a hope that perhaps a local columnist who has “a way of getting the news” will make his voice heard. He asks Bollinger, “Are you sleeping at night?”
Now, I do not write claiming that these problems can be solved or that I have the experience with campus security to even define the specific concerns. What I am claiming is that it is astounding that guards, who secure a campus that prides itself on freedom of speech and equal opportunity, do not have a voice of their own. Their letters are rejected, their concerns are buried, and their voices are unheard. To see if there were any solutions available to make these voices heard, I asked a well-liked and optimistic guard what he would suggest. With a bit of hesitation, he simply asked for a forum in which students, staff, and guards could voice their thoughts. While he was not nearly as perturbed as the two other guards who contributed their opinions to this piece, his acceptance of the fact that there is not a space in which he can speak his mind to other community members struck me more than the anger expressed by the other guards. He made me think. Perhaps those wonderful Western ideals have really not permeated much at all.
The author is a Columbia College first-year.