Christien Tompkins

One of the dangers of looking back so lovingly on my time at Columbia is that I may isolate the efforts into particular outbursts or spectacles of energy, when in fact these movements were developed with enduring care and patience by many people over long periods of time.

In my experience, identification with larger communities has been a great source of strength, but has also rendered me vulnerable to having my individuality compromised and confined.

Columnist Christien Tompkins discovers that it isn’t so easy to last as the “post-racial” candidate but finds comfort from an unlikely source.

Bobby Womack’s 1972 hit “Across 110th Street” describes a Harlem that is both very different and strikingly similar to the one that many of us at Columbia (don’t) know. While 110th Street may no longer be the barrier it once was, substantive racial and class reconciliation and cultural exchange are going to require a lot more than moving in next door.

Though I remain ever suspicious and critical of mainstream electoral politics in the United States, there is a significant part of me that really wants to believe in Barack Obama. Yet, I am deeply troubled by what an Obama presidency could mean for racial politics in the United States, specifically the notion that his candidacy is symbolic of the confirmation of a “post-racial” era in this nation.

There are plenty of retrospectives and opinions on 1968, but I feel that a great many are missing a big piece of the picture. Looking over Spec articles and reflecting upon opinions I have heard, I believe that black students’ participation and investment in the 1968 student rebellion is grossly ignored, as it disrupts the neat narratives that many people like to tell.

During last semester’s hunger strike, one of the strikers called one of his fellow students “white.” While to this student and some others this was a shocking expression of racism and insensitivity, I understood that the striker was trying to say that someone who is white might have different perspectives on the hunger strike and issues of race and racism due to white privilege.

When applying for a column in the Spectator, I jokingly told my friends that I was thinking of naming it “Race Man.” I thought this funny because of its multiple layers of signification.

Yesterday, five students began a hunger strike, depriving their bodies as the worst aspects of Columbia University have deprived all of our minds, hearts, and spirits.

I am at the breaking point. The events of this semester and student, staff, faculty, and administrative response have convinced me that most of my efforts as a “student leader” and/or “student activist” have been an absurd charade, and I must not be the only person on this campus that feels this way.

On Tuesday afternoon, I received a text message in class about a noose being hung outside of a black professor’s office at Teacher’s College. I could barely contain myself from slamming my fist on the table in front of Professor Partha Chatterjee.

At a meeting with “student leaders” last Thursday, University President Lee Bollinger assured us that the purpose of hosting Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Iran’s president, would be educational, that the event would be an intellectual engagement with a very controversial world leader—a showcase for academic freedom and freedom of speech.

In the spring of 2006, I was a member of Stop Hate on Columbia’s Campus (SHOCC), which formed in the aftermath of the “Ruggles Incident” and created a platform of initiatives for making the campus more inclusive, safe, and just