When and Where I Enter: Black Women in the Academy
By Carol E. Henderson
Despite the psychological, emotional and intellectual violence done to us on a daily basis, Black female professors have had to stand firm within
the “quiet undisputed dignity” of their personhood. I am still amazed at the naiveté of colleagues in the profession who are blissfully ignorant of our predicament. We are African and Americanand female in a predominantly White, male profession.
Many of us traverse a fine line. Our mental and spiritual health is depleted by constant exposure to those who want to understand us as if we are foreign objects or subjects for display. Many of our colleagues are torn between despising us and wanting to be more like us. Our very presence elicits quite a bit of curiosity among those who see us as a link to Africa — and as such, a link to a past that is shameful and unimaginable in this day and age of intellectual and technological advancement.
But how deceiving that can be. Since Sept. 11, 2001, many of my colleagues and I have found the mood on campuses across America to be extremely intolerant of difference, change or any academic engagement that challenges the supremacy and goodwill (or dominance) of America. “Counterculture” seems to be a dirty word of late, and the twins “diversity” and “multiculturalism” have all but dropped out of the vocabulary of some administrators and faculty members. The trickle-down effect of such national intolerance is that on the local level students and some department chairs have begun to question the validity of nontraditional academic fields such as African-American, Asian American or American Indian studies. This is despite the fact that these cultures tell us more about America than this country has been willing to reveal about itself. The impact in the classroom can be chilling. And the effect on the instructor can be extremely stressful and at times humiliating.
Tara Green’s concerns at her particular university are legitimate ones that threaten to affect her livelihood and development as an instructor and scholar. Based on the students’ response to her class on African-American literature and all that “race stuff,” Tara got mixed reviews — some of them downright hostile. This reaction is common among students who feel uncatered to or “unmammied.” If a course challenges their comfort zone or their mode of thinking, the resistance can be toxic.
As a reaction to her concerns, Tara’s superiors questioned her integrity as a teacher, saying that it was her responsibility to develop a pedagogy that would help her students learn the information while easing their discomfort with the central theme of the course: race. What did this mean, exactly? And, more importantly, how can such an outcome be determined? Who sets the standards? And why is it her responsibility to “fix” the ills of her home institution? Tara’s betrayal was heartfelt. Having experienced such encounters myself, my advice to my colleague involved a multi-level strategic approach.
