The acts of hate that hold us back
By Editorial
Nooses aren't supposed to exist in our enlightened, post civil-rights movement, 21st century world. They're supposed to be images in history books and museums that remind us of a shameful past of slavery, oppression and discrimination, not be part of our daily news cycle.
But it's the year 2007, and we still can't seem to escape them.
An incident where three white students hung a noose from a tree on a high school campus in Jena, La., sparked racial tensions in the town, culminating in a fight that left a white student in the hospital.
Although the student left the hospital later the same day, five of the six black students who attacked him were charged with second degree attempted murder.
Since the incident in Jena, nooses have been popping up all over the country. Someone put one in a black U.S. Coast Guard cadet's bag. Another noose showed up on the University of Maryland campus. Someone even had the nerve to hang one on a black professor's office door at Columbia University.
The professor, Madonna Constantine, said tears came to her eyes when she saw what had been left on her door.
"It felt very personal and very degrading," she told ABC news.
The pain that Constantine and others experienced is inexcusable. This kind of blatant racism should be a remnant of a distant past, not something that black people in the U.S. continue to worry about facing in a higher education setting today.
Whether the people who commit these crimes are acting out of frustration, ignorance or some sick sense of humor, the fact remains: There should be absolutely no tolerance for hate crimes in America today. In addition to inflicting unwarranted psychological and even physical pain, every time a hate crime occurs, it sets back the progress that this country has made on race relations.
What's most disturbing about these crimes is they cause our national dialogue surrounding race to regress. The polarizing effect hate crimes have forces constructive dialogue to take a back seat to fear mongering.
Guerilla attacks of fear and hate hold us back from having the real conversations about societal issues involving race that we should be having.
The incident in Jena has illuminated the kinds of questions that we as a society must ask: Why are there more black men in prison than there are in college? Is there a discrepancy between judicial punishments for white people and minorities? Would the six black students at Jena High school have received the attempted murder charge had they been white?
When we ask these questions, we make the brave decision to heal. We take the opportunity that the horrible situation in Jena has created to grow as a nation. But when this process is hijacked by forces of ignorance, immaturity and hate, it stalls.
Here at Santa Clara, we have entered a similar dialogue regarding race relations. Though this university has seen a marked improvement in diversity, we have not been immune to discrimination, as homophobic and racist graffiti have appeared on campus in recent years.
Though our cultural differences will undoubtedly lead to misunderstandings at certain times, we as a community must make a commitment to never resort to the kind of childish tactics seen in Jena or at Columbia, but to face racial discussions with an open mind and a level of maturity that is worthy of our campus.
By doing this, we will set an example for a country that maybe hasn't come as far as we thought.