Piecing Together the Multicultural Mosaic

Photos by Tom Hogarty

Duke's vision manifests itself in each person's ability to respond to others as persons of worth in their own right. We, therefore, reject stereotyping, prejudice, and discrimination for any reason; and we will not condone turning a human subject into an object to be manipulated for someone's self-benefit.

--excerpt from "Duke's Vision"

When Duke created its Vision in the fall of 1989, it had noble enough goals: to confirm "the importance of respect for human dignity no matter what a person's race or religion, gender preference or cultural background may be," according to a letter sent to all incoming freshmen by then-President H. Keith H. Brodie. The program was fairly straightforward: New students would receive a glossy brochure explaining "Duke's Vision" and would attend an orientation-weekend address by author Maya Angelou.

Six years later, Angelou's magnificent speech is still part of a freshman's first weekend. "Duke's Vision," however, is not--and has not been since the fall of 1993.

What happened? Did the University suddenly give up on respecting "human dignity"? Was multiculturalism no longer seen as a viable goal? Did the Vision get cataracts? No--it simply got complicated.

It didn't, of course, start out that way. At the beginning, the Vision seemed almost amusingly simplistic. Throwing around terms such as "multicultural equality" and "uniculturalism" with naively reckless abandon, the brochure reads like a spiritual tract for the culturally sensitive.

"Multicultural equality is not sameness," says one particularly profound passage. "Therefore, we ought not to impose a unicultural perspective upon the diversity of persons who comprise the human family. Racism and sexism are two common expressions of uniculturalism. They, and any other expressions of a world view and value system based solely on any one culture, are a denial of the humanity of others."

Often overlooked by such simplistic manifestos as "Duke's Vision" is the complex nature of multiculturalism. Indeed, the very word "multicultural" is itself more complicated than it is often thought to be.

"There's a particular irony about the term `multiculturalism.' It implies to me that up until this time we had a single culture," says religion Professor Melvin Peters. "That is not now nor has it ever been the case in America, or frankly, in the world. I see the problem at the most elementary level of language.... What is culture, and can culture truly ever be singular?"

Peters says multiculturalism is not an "issue" to be debated--it is simply a fact. The very nature of American culture is that it has no inherent nature, no objective center. Simply because the founding fathers and their ilk were the ones who wrote the history books does not mean that theirs is the only history.

Trinity sophomore Minh-Thu Pham, political chair of the Asian Students Association, says that even as we question the meaning of multiculturalism, the definition of "American" also needs to change. "Currently, being American is not being American--it's being white American.... Until we can change that definition, we have to force people to understand that being American is African-American, is Vietnamese-American, is Chinese-American, Indian-American, Hispanic-American, all of that," she says. "A multicultural America is not a faction of America... it's what America is."

A "multicultural America," then, is something of a tautology--there is no distinctly American culture, and trying to find such a center is like peeling an onion: you keep stripping away the layers until there is nothing left.

Seeing eye to eye

Also overlooked in much of the debate over multiculturalism (a term that I will use for clarity's sake, if nothing else) is the fact that even minority groups themselves do not always see eye to eye regarding ostensibly "multicultural" issues.

Last spring, for example, the Duke Gay, Bisexual and Lesbian Association was denied admission to Spectrum Organization, the campus "multicultural" group, on the grounds that Spectrum's focus was, and had always been, race and ethnicity, not culture.

This was not always clear from the start. Since its inception, Spectrum had billed itself as a multicultural organization and in so doing gained the benefits of using such an inclusive term. "Multicultural," after all, sounds much nicer and more accessible than do "multiracial" or "multiethnic."

Trinity senior Anji Malhotra, president of Spectrum, admits that the organization's use of the term was somewhat convenient--it was adopted as a "catch phrase"--and that when challenged on it by DGBLA, they had no choice but to shift to the latter two terms.

Malhotra stresses her support for gay rights and her belief in a distinct homosexual culture, but says that issues of sexuality were not, nor had they ever been, part of Spectrum's mission. Because of that focus, she says Spectrum would not have been able to do justice to the issue of sexuality but that she will support fully programming efforts with DGBLA in the coming year.

While current DGBLA president Seth Persily, a Trinity senior, was disappointed with Spectrum's decision, Tim'm West, Trinity '94 and former president of both the Black Student Alliance and the Duke Gay and Lesbian Association (the group changed its name in 1994 to include bisexuals), says that he does not think DGBLA belongs in Spectrum.

"I've always been against that," he says. "The focus for Spectrum is an ethnic concern. To take a group like DGBLA, which is a legitimate culture, and just kind of throw it in--you're saying that different ethnic groups don't have a responsibility to address issues of sexuality... [and] to challenge their specific homophobia."

Was Spectrum wrong to exclude DGBLA? Perhaps. It does seem rather odd that an organization so dedicated to promoting equality and tolerance would (re)define itself in such a way as to exclude a group with similar goals. What this example shows, however--regardless of right or wrong--is that even among those who support multiculturalism, there are no easy answers as to how the mosaic should fit together.

"What are the personal experiences of people at Duke?" asks Trinity senior Roberto Lopez, immediate-past coordinator of the Latino student organization Mi Gente and founder and president of the fraternity La Unidad Latina. "That's what the multicultural mosaic should look like."

"The content of their character"

Accepting the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964, Martin Luther King, Jr., said, "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."

In essence, this is the ultimate goal of any multiculturalism--to create a society in which skin color means no more than hair color or eye color. Consider that for a moment: One of the most oft-cited justifications for the awareness of racial differences is that the first thing someone notices about people of color is, in fact, their color.

From there, of course, we draw conclusions and distinctions--ones that have been fostered historically, whether it's white Americans importing black slaves from Africa or placing Japanese Americans in internment camps. Because of this history, racial categorization and consciousness are understandable and undeniable--but ultimately unproductive.

Why, after all, should skin color matter? Eye color is also genetic, and brown eyes, like black skin, are a dominant trait--but you don't hear anyone complaining of optical miscegenation when a blue-eyed boy marries a brown-eyed girl.

Again, the history of racial politics cannot be denied, and there has never been a holocaust based on eye color, but it must be recognized that skin color is just as arbitrary a trait with which to discriminate. Perhaps it was selected because you have to look someone in the eyes if you're going to oppress them for their eye color; choose skin color, and you can keep well enough away.

What of King's point? Why do minorities insist on emphasizing their skin color like it is the be-all and end-all of their existence? But as Latino fraternity president Lopez asks about racial identity, "To what extent is the color of your skin the content of your character?"

Leonard Beckum, University vice president and vice provost, says that although he agrees with the ideal behind King's dream of an end to racial judgments, American society simply isn't at that point yet.

"Dr. King said `Judge the person by his character not the color of his skin'--that hasn't happened, and it's still not happening. What makes it difficult, then, is for people who still get treated more because of their skin color than because of their character, it's a real problem.

"How many people see me out and say Let's ask him about his character' before they react to me because I'm a black male with a leather jacket on and I walk into a convenience store? It's not going to happen. They're going to say,Black males, dressed like that, typically do the following things.' They're not going to say, `Let's see if this guy has a Ph.D. from Stanford, if he's served on the Board of Trustees at Stanford, if he's a vice president at Duke.'

"Yes, sometimes down the line; but the first thing you get to are those connotations that are more prominent and carry with them a perception--and that's where the King statement breaks down."

Although few people, including Beckum himself, would like to admit it--people like to think they've moved a little closer to the dream during the past 30 years--what Beckum says is probably true: American society in 1995 simply does not have the capacity to be color-blind. Race is too important--people find comfort in it, whether because they can use it to find strength in commonality or exclusivity.

This does not mean that we should stop striving to put on the emerald glasses and see everything in Oz as green; it means that we need to recognize the reality of race in America--as difficult or counterproductive as that may seem--and proceed from there.

Several people interviewed for this article also point out that it is easy for white people to advocate a color-blind society, because most whites do not have to be conscious of their color. Vik Chiruvolu, president of Diya, the South Asian Association explains it this way:

"It's very easy for white people to say `Let's have a color-blind society' and it's very difficult for many non-whites to say that, because it's not the reality that they're living in now... you're not part of that privileged class for whom race consciousness is a luxury.

"Whites needn't be race-conscious because whiteness by definition is almost a lack of race. It is not a race, it is just personhood--whereas for every other identification, that isn't the case necessarily. It's terribly difficult to negotiate."

It is discomfiting to see white culture in this monolithic, raceless way. There are, after all, millions of white immigrants who, by virtue of their accents or cultural backgrounds, live in the same duality of which Chiruvolu speaks. Whites can be--and have been--ethnic, too.

His fundamental point, however--that most white people do not have to enter a room, look around and feel like everyone is staring at them for being different--is sound. There is a greater level of "otherness" associated with skin color than there is with most other purely physical attributes. For this reason, whites have the ability to become culturally invisible in a way that minorities do not.

Ethnic dorms and balkanization

Cultural invisibility, then, seems to connote a certain degree of cultural comfort--it allows one, even if only for a short while, to forget about one's otherness and simply be oneself. Thus, it is understandable that people would seek to associate with people like themselves, because such an arrangement allows them to relax and just be natural.

At Duke, this kind of homogeneous interaction is most often found in the residential system, which holds up selectivity as the Holy Grail of housing.

One of the arguments most consistently leveled against selectivity is that it allows people to retreat into their "comfort zones" without having to challenge themselves by interacting with different kinds of people. If you play an instrument, live in the Arts dorm; if you support multiculturalism, live in Spectrum; if you didn't drop your "FL" requirement, live in the Languages dorm; if you're a beer-swilling white male, join a fraternity; if you're black, live on Central.

These typologies are, of course, exaggerations. They should unsettle, perhaps even offend, the reader. They are, however, the popular conceptions of how the campus segregates itself and an example of the comfortable polarities to which many people resort when choosing where to live.

Given this and the national climate, it is likely that during the next few years, the subject of ethnic dormitories will arise. In a residential environment like Duke's, the debate will be a particularly interesting and provocative one.

Almost every one of the 20 students and administrators interviewed for this article agreed that, given the University's emphasis on selectivity, ethnic theme dorms should be allowed to exist--they are, after all, a form of selectivity just like any other.

"I think it's completely valid," says Spectrum president Malhotra. "Minority groups are entitled to their own houses if we recognize that most fraternities on campus, except for [Alpha Phi Alpha, a historically black fraternity], are predominantly white.

Vice President for Student Affairs Janet Dickerson, however, offers a more reserved endorsement. Given the current configuration of the residential system, Dickerson says she did not think it would be fair to deny a particular ethnic group the chance to form a selective house. "On the other hand," she adds, "that is counter to what we say we want to do in a liberal arts institution in which students will learn from one another--because if it doesn't happen here, where will it happen?"

Trinity senior Stacy Ebron, former coordinator of the Women of Color Advisory Board, also expresses a mixed reaction to the idea. "In general... if you're in an environment without support, it's important to be around people supportive of you. I think, though, that Duke can do better than that."

Perhaps Duke can do better than that. There is, however, a right and a wrong way to have that argument. The wrong way is by relying on labels such as "balkanization," a favorite among those who believe in the current existence of a color-blind society. "If minorities want to become fully a part of society," so the reasoning goes, "why do they insist on isolating and balkanizing themselves?"

What this logic ignores, however, is that the separation process is not without its historical and institutional roots.

"I don't know how we can talk about balkanization' when we don't look at the selective groups and houses that we have that are predominantly white and not speak to those are areas ofbalkanization'," says Maureen Cullins, dean of campus community development. "I've come to resent the term because it points to people who are non-white as separatist, without looking at what it is that would lead people to behave in the same way that I think people who are white behave--in terms of having the ability to live with, interact with people who are like yourself."

"Balkanization" is an unfair term, and it's far too politically charged to evoke anything other than antagonism. The debate over ethnic theme dorms--or over any multicultural issue, for that matter--should be pursued in terms of current reality and the reasons for it, not in terms of simplistic and accusatory characterizations.

However the multicultural mosaic is pieced together, religion professor Peters has an idea as to how to begin the construction: "Once you get people talking to each other, the thing you should be saying is how much we have in common."

Perhaps the answer, then, lies not in the mawkish sentiment of a "Duke's Vision," but rather in open and honest communication among people who aren't afraid to leave their comfort zones. Vision, after all, can only take one so far; from there, it's a long, rough road to reality.