Friday
Editor in chief: Jack Clifford
Managing Editor: Jessica Blanchard
Newsroom: (541) 346-5511
Room 300, Erb Memorial Union
P.O. box 3159, Eugene, OR 97403
E-maii: ode@oregon.uoregon.edu
EDITORIAL EDITOR: MICHAEL J. KLECKNER opededitor@journalist.com
STRIP AWAY
your notion of diversity
SERENDIPITY'S
WAND
SERENA MARKSTROM
Normally graduating Emerald staff
members use this column to dis
pense self-indulgent “I’m a senior
and you’re not” advice. I was
tempted to go that route, but there is some
thing less fun, less perky, that I’m going to
take this chance to address.
About a year ago, I attended a conference
for minority journalists at the Irvine, Calif.,
Marriott. I walked down the hall with my
roommate, Mariam, toward the ballroom,
wearing my new dark green INC pantsuit,
with an off-white sweater and my hair neatly
clipped at the nape of my neck.
Actually, I may have been strutting a little.
I had the right to. That morning I had five en
couraging interviews with newspaper re
cruiters.
I was feeling good about my prospects. In
deed, the recruiter for the L.A. Times told me I
had the “feature writer’s touch” and intro
duced me to a program the paper has for young
journalists, for which I am now a finalist.
Mariam also looked professional, wearing
a gray skirt and jacket. We both carried note
books containing our resumes and work
samples.
Just before we reached the ballroom, a ho
tel patron stopped us.
Then it happened: He asked us if he could
get extra towels and told us his room number.
The only thing uniform about us was our
brown skin. Whatever bubble my new pro
fessional clothing and recruiter-generated
encouragement had created popped for a
second. We each gave him a nervous laugh,
and I said, “We don’t work here.”
He must have felt stupid. He should have.
I hat was a stupid thing to say. Funny
though, I doubt he’s still thinking about the
interaction.
Mariam, who is Latina, said this sort of
thing happens a lot, so it barely bothers her.
For me, it created a warm feeling around my
heart. Just as a bruised area is hot when the
blood below is trying to return to normal af
ter a blow, my chest smoldered.
“That’s so unfair,” I thought, not wanting
Mariam to know that it did bother me. I start
ed to mentally list my accomplishments and
remind myself that I perform well above
most of my white peers. People give me
awards and scholarships for being smart and
full of potential. My brain was trying to fan
the heat away from my heart.
There was no way around it: He was
wrong, and I was hurt.
I wondered if there was anything I could
have possibly said to have the same effect on
him. I came up empty.
I’ve replayed this incident in my head
many times and thought about it in relation
to my experience at the University. The dif
ference between this interaction and some of
the ones on campus is that it happened in
“the real world.” Whatever the setting, these
daily blows have been given a name in the
diversity discourse: “paper cuts.”
This paper cut wasn’t malicious, but the
concept of successful minorities was out of
his immediate frame of reference. That’s a
shame, but a pervasive shame.
I have been involved with much of the dia
logue surrounding diversity. I worked at the
Multicultural Center for two years, and that
experience helped shape how I would come
to view the issue of diversity.
As it stands, I am the only minority stu
dent on the Emerald editorial staff who has
participated with ethnic student groups.
That unique perspective put me in an odd
spot when I got the job at the Emerald. There
have been times over the past year when I
have marveled at some fellow staff members’
lack of understanding of diversity.
Giovanni Salimena Emerald
I respect my fellow Emerald staffers. I
think they are some of the smartest people I
have met at the University. Just like most of
the students in the unions don’t know what
it’s like to be a reporter, the reporters don’t
know what it’s like to be a minority at the
University.
Many staff members and other students
seem to want to oversimplify diversity and
absolve themselves of any role in it. It has be
come a meaningless buzz word to many stu
dents, and they use it with spite, resentment
and disgust. This is troublesome.
Why are people so threatened by the idea
that others don’t want to be on the margins?
Why is it hard to see how any student, espe
cially white ones, can help remove the psycho
logical maid uniforms from minority women?
It’d be pessimistic for me to say that I don’t
have much hope for the average middle
class college student to understand this issue
without full immersion, but that’s what it
took for me to understand it. I even studied
in Mexico and learned how important being
American is in shaping a privileged identity.
We all need to consider where we are from
and how that affects how we see and treat
others. I am from Eugene, and though my fa
ther is black, I was raised by my white moth
er and had little contact with my black rela
tives. I have had to battle my own prejudices
while here — including prejudices about the
groups I belong to.
I understand this issue now because I made
it a lifestyle to do so. I took for granted that I
didn’t know anything about anyone else and
learned accordingly. The required eight multi
cultural credits are not enough for anyone to
come out of the University with a sound un
derstanding of this complicated issue.
Diversity is not just about having a black
friend or going salsa dancing once in a while.
It is the visceral knowledge that every other
person has things just as important, if not
more so, to contribute to this country. It’s tak
ing people in one at a time, so that even in the
context of southern California—where most
of the Hispanics are working class—you can
avoid making ignorant statements and hurt
ing other people.
This knowledge comes from repeatedly
thinking about where your thoughts came
from and questioning whether they are cor
rect.
All I can ask of the rest of the students here
is to take this time within a forced and unnat
urally small community and use a different
route now and again.
Pride yourself on being well-rounded, and
Turn to Markstrom, page 3
Leftfield
Frank Silva
Elections must end
Election Haiku
For those who don’t know haiku,
It is Japanese.
Written in three lines,
This poetry is arranged
By syllable count,
The first line is five,
The next line must run seven,
The last, five again.
Orthodox haiku
Describes feelings of nature
In a structured way.
Our haiku’s free form.
But syllablesare counted.
We hope you enjoy.
Jacobson and Cook,
Nilda and Eric, the rest—
No more grievances!
ConCourt meets tonight
Will it make a decision?
Not until Monday.
This is important
It involves lots of money
So why don’t we care?
Maybe we’re all bored
With the endless re*voting.
So get on with it.
Stop confusing us
And stop the endless drama
Let’s vote already.
There’s more confusion
With these student elections
Than in Florida.
Give us a break, please.
Students have more important
Things to be doing.
It’s Dead Week, for one
The elections brouhaha
Just isn’t pressing.
With finals next week,
The court should just rule today
And end our torture.
This haiku represents the opinion of the Emerald
editorial board. Responses can be sent to
ode@oregon.uoregon.edu.