Opinion: Blackness in the Classroom; White Allyship is Not Enough Anymore

The following is an opinion written by Dallas sophomore Naima Davenport.

Going to a predominately white institution (PWI) heavily impacts the Black consciousness on many levels. You are an outlier, no matter how accepted you might be within white spaces. No matter how small I make myself, there will always be a fear of my tone, my dialect, my opinion, my expression. 

Being an English major and Black makes me feel like even my writing can’t explain me sometimes. Having to participate in discussions about Blackness and its impact within classrooms feels shallow and meaningless knowing that outside of this space, many of my peers strongly oppose my right to be here. Knowing maybe half of our campus might feel like there is no space, no room for this Blackness or “wokeness” is extremely harrowing on the Black psyche. 

Requiring us to share our trauma, our opinions and our Blackness may help white people understand (to some degree) the various struggles Black people face at the hands of the white man, but is unnecessary. They have already made their mind up about what is and what isn’t Blackness. These presumptions are already negatively impacting our learning environment, especially at Albion College. 

You can all ignore the racist jabs made at Black, Indian, Mexican, Asian and all other minorities seen daily on sites such as YikYak. Most of us will not forget that however anonymous they may seem, there are faces behind those accounts, many being our peers in our classrooms. 

How safe, how comfortable can our Black and brown populaces be on campus knowing what a vast majority is thinking about us? Why would I ever want to share my opinion, knowing that as “liberal” as this campus might be, much of it still spits out rhetoric my ancestors would have been killed for? Just last week, a Black person was killed. I don’t have to Google it to know it happened anymore. 

I have been betrayed by white liberals – the ones at the front lines doing the work, admitting their racism, past and present, but still facilitating and allowing racism to continue benefiting their whiteness at the expense of Black minds and bodies. 

When I talk about Blackness from my point of view, it feels like putting myself up on a pedestal for white people to sympathize with. I shouldn’t have to reveal my innermost traumas in a classroom for those not like me to understand just how serious these matters are when the only thing they’re taking from it is a participation grade. Non-black people do not and will not understand that what’s at stake is life and living.

None of my white peers on this campus have ever made me feel 100% authentic around them. Which I say to ask; when you read that line, why are you thinking about how wrong I am for admitting that hard truth instead of searching for a way to do better? Yes, maybe your activism is thankless and yes, your parents might not agree with you for defending Black lives, but none of these are even comparable to the duress felt by being Black and having an opinion. 

I can no longer tolerate white solidarity. I want to see radical abolition across my campus, especially during times such as these. I want to see you tell your homeboy he was wrong for saying that to that Black girl. I want to see Greek life have Black people in it for more than “inclusion.” I want to see professors get in hot water for their snarky comments to the quiet Black boy in class. 

When rights are being stripped away hourly; who’s to say yours won’t be next? What will become of us when the only thing left to bank on is proximity to whiteness? Where does that leave the rest of us who have always had to remember how not white we are? What will that mean when you’re still a woman? Disabled? Queer? Then will you fight with us? 

I’m tired of hearing about Black pain and Black trauma in my English classes when all the Black population wants to hear about is the joy and wonders of being Black, American, African, Hispanic, all of it. Because believe me, there are many joys to existing in this Black body. 

I have not only endured strife in my life, so why highlight only those moments in the past? I want to pick up a Black book in my English classes and read about life being lived not taken away. I definitely don’t want to talk about Black death any more than I’ve lived in it. I refuse to continue any longer.