This story was originally published in The Willamette Collegian on Sept. 3, 2014. Katie Dobbs and Bronte Dod of Willamette University contributed reporting.   According to the National Center...

In mid-December, I, along with over 100 faculty members, attended a special faculty meeting to vote on a motion to cancel classes on Thursday, Feb. 20 in order to convene the Power and Privilege Symposium. Pen to paper, the faculty in attendance voted, and the motion passed by an overwhelming majority. The text of the motion upheld reads as follows:

I’ve often heard it said that people at Whitman don’t talk about race. It is quite true that an impoverished lexicon for discussions of race and racism exists at our institution, but this is not unique to Whitman—it is a generalized problem typifying political discourse in the United States, in which "race" surfaces to diagnose affective extremity (e.g., racial hatred), suspicious mobilizations of history (e.g., race-baiting) or demographic minoritization (e.g. “the Hispanic vote”). No wonder, then, that even faculty struggle to conceptually separate "race" (the historically contingent, political phenomenon through which categorical differences are ascribed to bodies) from "racism" (the creation or reproduction of structures of domination based on essentialized racial categories).

Growing up in urban, working class, immigrant neighborhoods, I never felt a claim to anything in nature. The land we were on was government owned, or I knew we could pick up and move any second. Why, I thought? Why didn't I feel like this part of nature could be mine? Too suddenly, I was reminded that someone paid for me to be on this trip. Nothing was free, even the outdoors. I was reminded of why I didn't like such activities. Even in nature, I could never just exist.

I wanted to express my thoughts about the article published entitled "Residence Life Shuts Down Camp Whitman," published in a recent edition of The Pio. While I understand it is unfortunate that underclassmen will find it more difficult to stay through commencement, I believe that this article does not fairly address the issue. I feel that the article was particularly shortsighted when it comes to why the decision was made to close the halls earlier than in previous years. I was a resident assistant in a first-year hall, so I experienced the logistics behind Camp Whitman first hand. ResLife's first priority is always the safety and well-being of all residents, which become real concerns once students are given a week of downtime at the end of the semester. Instances of disruptive behavior during Camp Whitman have become significantly more prevalent over the past couple of years, and these instances become safety issues not only for those involved in the behavior, but also for those around them. Many students must travel home during this period and need to be well rested to do so safely.

Of the many issues contained within this recent debate on campus regarding race and diversity, one that I've heard mentioned more than a few times is isolation. That is to say, some people considered diverse, be it racially, sexually or socioeconomically, feel isolated on a campus overwhelmingly comprised of white, heterosexual, upper-middle class students. While I cannot address the issue of isolation due to sexual orientation or due to socioeconomic status, I can speak to the issue of isolation due to race. But before I do so, I want to clarify something.