Taking My Share of the Load

Someone tried to take down a faculty member of my college this week with a piece of vicious hate mail. I won't repeat verbatim what was written in this post, but I will just say the phrases "Go back to Africa" and "Remember the Jena 6" were used.

An open meeting was held to address the situation. Professors, college staff, and administrators flocked to the meeting. Indeed, the room wasn't big enough. Unfortunately, I didn't perceive a student presence as strong.

Too many students did not witness the positive reaction and beautiful show of support that the meeting evoked. I wrote this piece and submitted it to the student newspaper immediately afterward the meeting. I also approached the president of our student body and asked her that the SGA provide an opportunity for students to experience something like it.

Taking My Share of the Load

Stepping into the meeting, I asked my professor, “Is this for students?” I was unsure because I recognized dozens of staff, professors, administrators and librarians, but I counted the number of students on two hands.

I am not condemning the student body. All Simmons College students have the daily challenge of slicing hours of the day to accommodate our assignments, jobs and opportunities. I almost didn’t show up myself. Almost.

Maybe it’s because I’ve had hate shouted at me on the street or calmly directly at me in a classroom. Maybe because I’ve experienced how hate can keep my eyes down and make me hold my breath until I reach home. I know about the burden of hate and I would never let someone carry it alone. That’s why I showed up.

Professor Bailey stood and spoke the words that were meant to close mouths, lower eyes, and halt steps. These words weren’t meant for just Prof. Bailey. They were an assault on us. Our community. Our Simmons.

But, we were not bowed down. Of course, there was suffering and there was outrage. Then it happened. All of us present stood up as one and transformed shock and outrage into resolve and purpose. Instead of showing tears and shame, we created laughter and hope.

We resolved that the courage and support visible in that room would not end at the door. We would not let the memory of this meeting fade as deadlines and paperwork approached. Each of us as individuals would take the shared lessons and carry them out to those who were absent.

We learned to acknowledge each other. Now, our gazes will meet and we will trade smiles. We learned not to stay strangers with each other. We will not remain silent when another person says or does something hurtful. Because we will first hold ourselves accountable, we will not hesitate to hold others accountable as well.

Simmons College will be stronger because this burden does not rest on one set of shoulders. I have taken my share of the load, but it will be lightened as I stand up and speak to others in my role as a student. As a friend and a daughter. As an artist. As a Dix Scholar. As a library worker. As an African-American.

Because I am you. We are a community. We are Simmons.