This Week at LU

It has been quite a week here at Lehigh. On Wednesday morning we woke up to discover that something horrible had happened that night. Someone had spray painted the “N Word” on, and egged, the Umoja House– a multicultural-themed residence hall at Lehigh. The U House is just a few doors down from the residence hall in which we live, is a sort of second “home” for many of the students we are closest to here, and is a well-known symbol of diversity on Lehigh’s campus.

I knew this week was coming; I knew something like this would happen at some point; it was just a matter of time… but still… there is no way to prepare, there is no way to know when it will hit, and when it hits there is no way to stop it from feeling like being kicked in the gut. We are living on a college campus, in the real world, and bad things happen. The Umoja House incident crystallized a lot of anger, fear, discontent, and frenzied frustration on Lehigh’s campus. It was like throwing a lit spark an already agitated, heated campus. There was no way, in living here, that we could protect Kyle and Owen from this.

Meera is still young enough to have a lot go right over her head. We chose not to tell her about it. She still seems too young to grasp any of it with meaning, and we were concerned it would simply scare her. So, we have kept her from knowing about it.

Kyle and Owen, however, are a different story. Nothing gets past them and they are wise — and socially savvy — well beyond their years. Many students who they are close with were deeply impacted, emotional, and overwhelmed. We knew that Kyle and Owen were going to find out what was going on, and we wanted them to hear it from us first.

I sat them down after school on Wednesday, and told them. I gave them the facts as straight-forwardly as possible: “Last night something horrible happened. Someone threw eggs at the Umoja House. And they also painted, in red paint, the word ‘Nigger.’ It is a terrible, awful thing.” Kyle’s immediate response: “It is a racist thing.” “That’s right,” I said.

Their first concern was their own safety. I knew that would be where they went first with it, and I was prepared for it. “Nobody was physically attacked, nobody was injured. This is violence and hatred, but not of physical violence.” They wanted to know if anything was broken or if there was burglary. “No, only hearts were broken. And no, there was no burglary.” “Good,” they said. “Where were the LUPD?” they wanted to know, “Did they see it happen?” “No,” I said, “but they are working hard to find the people who did it.” “This isn’t going to happen to Sayre B, right? We are safe, right?” I assured them, as best I could, and with some trepidation, that yes, we are safe. “But,” I said, “I don’t want to keep this from you. I want to be honest with you. I want you to know that this happened.”

Owen said that if he had been in the Umoja House when it happened, and if he had seen the people doing it, he would have yelled at them: “If you’re gonna throw eggs at me, cook ’em so I can eat ’em!!” The boys laughed and laughed at that. Owen said that the next thing he would have done was gone outside with his “two swords” (from his Halloween knight costume), and “scare them away.”

Kyle wanted to express his opinion. He was outraged about it. “It is white people who did this. Obviously.” He wanted a response from me: “Yes,” I said, “I agree, it is very probably white people who did this.” “It is racists,” he said. “Yes,” I said, “it is racist. Racism exists. There is no getting around it.”

They wanted to be assured that justice would be served– that the people who did it would get in trouble. They wanted to know that if students were caught, they would be expelled. I assured them. And they wanted to know what was being done to help the students in the Umoja House. I told them that about how that morning, while they were in school, Mommy and Papi had gone out to get bagels and cream cheese for the Umoja House kids, and that we had dropped them off with a note. They were very happy about that. And I told them that the whole campus was upset all day, and that a protest rally was being planned for that night. I told them I wanted them to go to the rally with me. And they jumped at the chance.

I wanted them to see that while there are, indeed, some bad people in this world who do the wrong things, there are also many, many good people in this world who do the right things. I wanted them to see that while there are still young people who feel entitled to express their hatred and racism in the most horrific ways, there are also masses of young people who want to support values of equity and justice, who want to uplift victims of oppression, and who want to change the world to be a better place. I wanted Kyle and Owen to know that as young black boys, there are many, many people — of all races, religions, and orientations — who are in their corner and who have got their back. I wanted Kyle and Owen to see people they know and love stand up to fight — in a peaceful and intelligent way — against racism.

So, we went to the rally on campus that night. And they saw it all.

As the crowd was forming, Kyle and Owen could see the numbers (over 1,600 people) and feel the electricity running through the crowd.

They saw many, many students they know and with whom they are close. They gave, and got, lots of hugs. But they knew it was serious, and they took it seriously, and I was proud of how they handled themselves. This photo (below) — of K & O with our friend Ralph — is just profound for me. It sums up the entire experience of that night. Ralph is a Haitian-American student I’ve had in two semesters worth of classes, and is an organizer of the movement on campus that coordinated the rally and a million other things to spear-head social justice on this campus in recent months. This picture brings tears to my eyes each and every time I see it. Complex tears, for my boys, and for Ralph, and for all the others in their positions. A picture tells a thousand words.

When the rally got started Kyle and Owen saw some of their favorite students up on the stage, leading the crowd, in articulating protest. I was so proud of my students for showing my boys how to do this, and do this well.

And Kyle and Owen saw and heard so much that night. Things I wish they never would need to hear. But things that, unfortunately, they do need to hear. Keeping it from them only serves as a disservice to them. And if they need to know — which they do — then, I believe, there couldn’t be a better way.

So, we walked together through that day, and that rally, and through this week. Kyle and Owen learned so much from this experience– as did we all. And they are learning so much from living here– as are we all.

Thank you to Christa Neu, Lehigh Photographer, for all of the photos in this post.