The fifth annual Critical Social Justice explored opportunities for building individual and collective resistance and resilience. Events throughout the week, the theme of Rise, challenged us to think about how we can do better, do more, and persist in doing it when it comes to working towards positive social change and activism. Take a look back at some of highlights from throughout the week and catch up on anything you missed!

Leading up to the week, we were SUPER PUMPED for Critical Social Justice to get started – and so was the rest of UMBC!

You can see many of the other “I rise for…”

We kicked of CSJ on Monday with Chalking for Change on Academic Row before CSJ 101.

While people were writing what they rise for outside, CSJ 101 was taking place directly inside where students, faculty, and staff were encouraged to learn about Resistance and Resilience in social change and activism.

Those who attending brainstormed what they resisted for and how they can practice resilience.

Tuesday brought our keynote speaker, Dr. Adrienne Keene of the Cherokee nation to UMBC!

Her first stop was the Women’s Center for an intimate lunch and discussion with students and staff.

After lunch, Dr. Keene presented a workshop entitled, Responding to Campus Racism,  that covered her work with racism and cultural appropriation. Using a case study of a themed party that relied on harmful stereotypes of Native Americans, Dr. Keene encouraged students to think about how they would respond to the incident from an individual and institutional perspective. Through brainstorming, students learned from each other about campus resources and departments that could be helpful in responding to the issue, in addition to working on ways to prevent an incident like this happening in the future at UMBC.

Later that night Dr. Keene gave her keynote presentation entitled, “Native Appropriations, Indigenous Social Media, and Responding to Racism,” to a standing-room only crowd in the UC Ballroom.

To conclude her presentation and with Halloween quickly approaching, Dr. Keene gave us all some homework to help reduce cultural appropriation through the call to “don’t dress as (or let your friends dress as)  an “Indian” for Halloween.”

On Wednesday, faculty and staff participated in a panel and discussion called “Rising Tensions and Teachable Moments” that explores the ways in which faculty and staff could talk about hard issues both in and outside the classroom with not only students but their colleagues.

Later that evening, the Mosaic Center hosted “Rising in Times of International Tragedies: The Impact of Oppressive Symbols,” which was a panel of faculty and staff centering European, Jewish and African-American voices discussing their shared, intersectional perspectives connected to historically oppressive symbols.

Panel members from the Rising in Times of International Tragedies: The Impact of Oppressive Symbols event. 

Although the threat of rain meant the Monument Quilt Display was cancelled on Thursday, the Women’s Center still hosted two workshops surrounding sexual violence and support for survivors. During the quilt making workshop, participants spent time talking about the #metoo movement and how the online activism and story telling surrounding the hashtag showed up for them in their own lives.

Friday concluded CSJ with the Baltimore Walking Tour led, for the third year in a row, by Dr. Kate Drabinski from Gender + Women’s Studies.

Thanks again to all our partners and everyone who attended CSJ last week – You all made the fifth year of Critical Social Justice: Rise possible! We’re excited for next year, but let’s be sure to keep the momentum going. Critical Social Justice isn’t just a week but a year long commitment!

So to keep that momentum going:

• Follow the Women’s Center and Mosaic Center via myUMBC and our social media accounts to stay up-to-date about all of our social justice programming throughout the year. The Women’s Center is on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
• A great round-up of diversity and inclusion resources can also be found at UMBC’s Diversity and Inclusion website and the Race, Equity, Inclusion, and Justice myUMBC page.
• Tell us what you think! Participate in the CSJ: Rise survey. Your feedback is important to us.

Last Thursday, October 12th, the Women’s Center held the second roundtable discussion in our fall series. This one was titled Women and the Environment, and prompted a conversation about how women’s work with regard to the environment was different from men’s, as well as how the environment has disparate impacts on women. Ultimately, we set out to answer the daunting question of how we can bring awareness to the intersections of gender, race, and class with regard to environmental justice.

We started off by looking at some of the statistics about women’s employment in environmental fields, which were harder to come by because of its broad and interdisciplinary nature. Still, by looking at large trends (only 12% of the jobs in the green energy industry are held by women), case studies at a few prestigious universities, and patterns of leadership, we found large discrepancies in the rates at which women and men were employed in these sectors.

From there, we moved on to hear what our panelists had to say about larger themes regarding women and the environment. Dr. Dawn Biehler, a professor in the Geography and Environmental Systems department here at UMBC talked about the history of environmental organizations and how many of the white men who ran them blamed women and people of color for environmental degradation and then silenced their voices when it came to conversations about reparations. Dr. Biehler explained ways in which these patterns are seen today, such as the narratives that blame the higher fertility rate of women in the developing world for problems like poverty and hunger, rather than looking at factors like colonization and the unequal distribution of resources.

Sustainability coordinator Tanvi Gadhia talked further about a global perspective and the differences between her work in India with Vandana Shiva and her work in the United States with various sustainability groups. Ultimately, she argued that the hierarchical structures seen in the West benefit those with privilege and hurt marginalized groups like women and people of color. Additionally, she argued that tokenistic inclusion of women and minorities in these groups is not enough; representation does not matter if an institution is not receptive to the voices and leadership of everyone, especially those who have a history of being silenced.

Lastly, graduate student Macey Nortey talked about her work studying disaster relief and the concept of holistic recovery. Because of the bureaucracy associated with receiving aid, it is often difficult for communities to wait for the aid of the federal government. Furthermore, government officials may also be selective about who they deem worthy of receiving aid (see Puerto Rico). Therefore, it is necessary for communities to do some preparation themselves to make up the difference. Holistic recovery is also beneficial in that it allows for everyone’s voice to be heard with equal weight.

Ultimately, the main themes that came out of this conversation were how to be inclusive of marginalized groups and why it’s necessary, understanding how different groups of people have different relationships to the environment and environmental labor, and how access to resources shapes who gets a say in environmental policy. The inclusion of suppressed voices is integral to our social justice ideals–different communities have different needs, and only by including all voices will all needs be met. The disproportionate impacts certain groups of people face in the aftermath of environmental disasters are not coincidental; they are the result of human intervention and it is our responsibility to correct them.

Further Reading:

• Tampons vs. Diva Cups
• The link between feminism and the environment
• Learn about eco-feminism
• An old Women’s Center blog post about why the Flint water crisis is a feminist issue
• Some research from one of our panelists: Dr. Biehler
• Check out a young Baltimore woman who won a prestigious environmental award!
• An interview about women in environmental professions
• Women’s Environment & Development Organization

A reflection from student intern, Sheila, about the subtle moments of life, both good and bad. 

A little while ago I asked someone for their life story. This is a random thing I do whenever someone new starts working at my restaurant (#serverlife), to see if they can stay on their toes. The response I got back was that this person was only 18 years old, and that they were too young to have a life story. I proudly said, “I am not too young for anything…. Only to rent a car for a good price … and I can’t run for president.”

Someone asked why I couldn’t run for president, and if you didn’t already know, it’s because you have to be 35 years old to run for the president of the United States.

Overhearing the question, my boss turned around and started laughing. He thought I couldn’t run for president because I wasn’t born in this country. For those who don’t know, you have to be a natural born citizen of the United 

My “Bro!… seriously?!” face

States to run for president. I was born in Gaithersburg, Maryland…  (aka in this country).

He laughed and asked me if that was racist.…

I said, “Kinda…”

If you didn’t know what a microaggression is, that was one.  

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary a microaggression is “a comment or action that subtly and often unconsciously or unintentionally expresses a prejudiced attitude toward a member of a marginalized group (such as a racial minority).”

Some people do not see microaggressions happening because it can be so subtle. These are statements/actions that we hear or see every day– but no matter how common, microaggressions still have underlying meanings attached to them.

Another Example!

“Shalia. Sheyla. Chalia. Shayla. Sheila.”

These are the ways my name has been spelled and/or pronounced over my 22 years of life.

If you know me, saying my name wrong is one of the most hurtful things you can do to me.

On my first day of class, I walked in five minutes late because I had to go to the bathroom. When I finally walked in my professor yelled out “Sanchez!” as I confusedly looked for a seat. I realized the professor was speaking to me, hoping that I was the person that missed attendance and that their class wasn’t going to be only the 12 people currently seated.

Now, back to my original point, people have called me a bunch of different things in my life but I had never gotten “Sanchez” before. I corrected my professor, as I always do with my first name, and took my seat.

It wasn’t until 2 hours into our 2 and half hour class, I realized there was no one named Sanchez in my class. There was no one else with an “S” sounding last name in the whole class, actually.

Why in the world did my professor call me Sanchez?

Why would people continue to pronounce my name wrong after me correcting them for months?

Why do people continue to tell me I am pronouncing my own name wrong?

My reaction when some tells me I am pronouncing my own name wrong. Like… what?

Recently I have noticed when these things happen more and more often.

When I face microaggressions, I challenge them! I fight for myself! I question why people believe these things to be true of me but the real question is… why I constantly have to fight these things? Some folks will tell me not to bother, that people don’t know better and I can’t let these tiny moments in my life impact me as much as they do.

I want you to know: I hear you. I don’t want these tiny moments to hurt. But it doesn’t change the fact that I shouldn’t have to deal with these things, I shouldn’t have to correct my professor or my boss, I shouldn’t have to waste my energy worrying about someone seeing me in a different light because of how I look. It gets tiring, sticking up for myself and challenging people.

While writing this blog, I spent my free time thinking about two moments. Knowing that these people did not intend anything negative by their words but it still filled this week with many headaches and moments of disheartening doubt. Why would anyone care what a queer latina women would have to say? Would they even believe what I wrote?

With all the personal demands I face during a week, I needed to take care of myself after thinking about why these moments in my life deeply impacted me repeatedly for the past week. This is where I talk about one of my favorite things in da world!

==========================================

Self-care!

I actually wrote another blog about it last year. If you like to read it, here is the link

¡Hola! Me llamo Gerardo Herrera-Cortés y soy un pasante por los poblaciones hispanos y latinos en el Mosaico: centro para la diversidad y cultura en UMBC. Estudio diseño gráfico, pero tengo una pasión para la vida y experiencia de los universitarios.

In translation to the American English language, I just said my name, that I’m the Hispanic and Latino/x intern for the Mosaic, as well as my major and my main interest. Those two sentences took about half an hour to write. If you’re fluent in written Spanish, you can perhaps see the mistakes I made. I search endlessly through search engines and Spanish websites to ensure that my grammar is at least decent. In English, that’s lesser of an issue.

I was born in Puebla, México and immigrated to the United States with my mother at trés meses. I already knew that I was an undocumented immigrant, along with other members of my “nuclear” family (Side note: I found out what nuclear family meant this past weekend and it’s quite a weird concept). It was no biggie – my family had their life and other folks had theirs. We kept a sharper eye at the skin tones of police officers and the immigration Q&As on Univisión Noticias than others. It was normal. Normal.

My hermanos, 19 and 14, are American-born and, as my dad likes to put it, malagredecidos. They’re enjoying the American experience and the benefits of health insurance, an American passport, and citizenship. Aren’t they lucky, huh?

I applied to colleges, the first in my family, and got stuff done. I didn’t know how money worked nor how much it was but I went for it. During my sophomore year in high school, my sister and I applied for and were granted I-765 work permits and deportation deferral through DACA. I worked full-time for slightly above minimum wage – $7.80 at the time – because I had the ability to speak (decent) Spanish. I worked full-time, every week, from October 2013 to August 2015. Then, my mother revived her Permanent Residency application that was filed in 1993, back before the time of any children, with a costly lawyer during my junior year.

El trío was granted residency status in March 2015. We spent more than dos mil dólares por persona. I helped my older sister in funding the federal “forgiveness” fee, biometric fees, application fees, and lawyer costs. I came to UMBC, paid for my first semester with the dos mil that was left in my bank account and whatever leftover money the federal and state government had (and none from UMBC at the time).

Fast forward, I’m working several jobs here at UMBC, living financially unstable, enduring discriminatory and injusto practices and cultures, and still worried about several loved ones. Mi familia transverses the six of us. I acknowledge that the 1993 case was a life (and deportation) savior for most of my family.  I acknowledge the ability to live in lesser fear. I want you to acknowledge that getting benefits and “security” is not always truest to their words. I want you to acknowledge that la experiencia de un inmigrante no ha cambiado y la guerra para igualdad sigue más fuerte que nunca. Yo quiero lo más mejor por mis padres, mis parientes, y esos de la misma o peor experiencia. Tú eres querido, importante, y vital en este mundo. Y en el fin, yo asciendo por la guerra, por la gente, por mi gente, y por vos.

¿Necesita ayuda con la traducción? Need assistance with translation? Visit http://www.spanishdict.com/

I rise for our undocumented people whose voices are silenced. Our voices are silenced as soon as we internalize the belief that living in the shadows is our best chance at assimilating. We know this is oppression, but it keeps us relatively safe from deportation, discrimination, prejudice and their ripple effects that wound our families and spirits of life. Essentially, our shelter in the shadows is living fear in silence.

Like many of the 11 million undocumented immigrants in this country, I was born on the “wrong” side of the border. My home country is Mexico, Mexico City where I recollect 7 years worth of wonderful countryside memories with my mom’s family. I also vividly remember my crises of identity when I realized I was the abandoned child in the family. As a single mother and head of the household, my mom worked vehemently with a desperate heart for our reunion. In 2005, “coyotes” brought me over the border, across grasslands and from underground housing networks to my mother-daughter reunion. While we did bond effortlessly, I was well aware of my suppressed resentment toward my mom’s decision; a decision I felt placed me in a deeper crisis of identity than ever before. After many reflections and questions, I have come to understand and respect her valiant decision.

Shortly after making peace with the decision that flipped my world on its head, the 2016 election happened. I could not stop crying. Feelings of betrayal, anxiety, and confusion pained my mind and body. Then, everything changed when my dear friend asked me to speak out. You see, I am an immigrant with privilege in this country. DACA temporarily protects me from deportation, and it grants me permission to work here. Most importantly, it gives way for the peace of mind many undocumented immigrants are very likely to never experience. I am an immigrant with privilege.

When my dear friend asked me to advocate and organize for change, it dawned on me that I could no longer remain silent. Had I rejected her hand for help, I would have done a great injustice to her, my loved ones, our fighters in the shadows, and myself.

 “I rise for social justice” seems such a simple idea. The fact that one person deserves basic human rights is a very controversial topic, but should it be? In my opinion, everyone should have access to these rights, including life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. These ideals are very vague, yet we see these ideals throughout the left/ progressive movement. Life, or free healthcare for all, liberty, the choice to do with your body as you wish, and the pursuit of happiness, going to college if that’s what you wish for a reduced cost. Unfortunately, there are a few of us are very interested in controlling whatever possible. It’s ironic how they want less government control in their lives, yet seem to enforce their laws wherever they go. 

This is an example of a social injustice, which is something that “SJW’s” (Social Justice Warriors) and feminists fight against. I have been a feminist all my life, even fighting with parents whenever they said something inappropriate. Social Justice is something that everyone deserves, not just the societal elite and white people. These marginalised groups are exactly why I put #BLM or Black Lives Matter in my photo. 

Overall, everyone needs to realise that just because someone is different than you, doesn’t mean you should treat them differently or discriminate/segregate them from yourself. That’s one of the things I love about UMBC, it’s a very diverse and inclusive campus. With the exception of a few of us, that see the world through a different lens, this campus is a bubble of love.