Dose of reality of oppression

By Katie Powers

A few weeks ago as I was walking through one of my favorite departments, I saw a poster that caught my eye.

It read: No one is free when others are oppressed.

Of course it was a pretty, creamy yellow and had a large butterfly spreading its wings, which was really aesthetically appealing, but its words made me stop. And think.

In between classes, papers, work and exams, you are vacuumed into your own self-gratifying tunnel of success. But this weekend, the Tunnel of Oppression challenged me.

It reminded me that life isn't just about what is good for me. It's not about getting the best grades or the best job, but about being a part of a global community.

It began with an in-your-face body image section, then moved to women's rights, which had me teary eyed with pride. Do you realize women couldn't attend Santa Clara until the 1960s? That the first woman to become Associated Students President was in 1987?

Farther inside, the tunnel became warped into a horrid, scathing path of pain, ranging from sexual assault to homophobia and racism.

Passing through hanging body cutouts with sexual assault statistics, hearing a tape of guys saying that she was just so wasted she was asking for it, I felt betrayed.

A wall was in place where passers could write their stories on a sticky note, sharing the pain anonymously, revealing that yes, it happened to us. It happened to my friend. It happens to people here.

Then you were led to a corner that captured acts of hatred committed against gay people. A picture of Matthew Shepard hung under a sign that read, "God hates fags." A story hung that told how a gay student was beaten in the Mission Gardens in the 1990s.

Later in the tunnel, you met racism. A tree hanging with nooses explained the injustice that is happening right now with the Jena Six.

And then our most oppressive self: a film documenting the south of the border theme party, featuring a montage of pictures from the party along with disgustingly hateful comments on The Santa Clara's Web site. Are we still not better than that?

Many of us have never faced the adversity of such violent oppression. Most of us will never have to. And for that, I don't think 20 minutes of walking through the tunnel compares to the suffering of those who are oppressed.

It was meant to be overwhelming. It was meant to be thought provoking. It was meant to oppress you.

How quickly we forget, in our jokes, in our day-to-day life, that there is still pain the world -- both inside our community and globally.

If anything, the Tunnel of Oppression was meant to wake you up.