On Wednesday, April 1st, 2015, I woke up to several text messages, missed calls, and emails in response to the noose that was hung from a tree on my college campus. As I read the texts and emails, I felt numb. The noose was not a foreign symbol but it was a representation of the racial discrimination that my grandparents, who were adolescents during Jim Crow, often reflected about.
This act of hatred was densely weighted with the history of over four centuries worth of oppression for black americans. The most unsettling part of the situation was the responses from my peers:
“I’m sure he or she didn’t mean it. The nature of this was probably just a joke,” and “Does that really count as a noose?”
If you share any of these sentiments, you are part of the problem. Institutionalized racism has conditioned many to rationalize the microaggressive and discriminatory tendencies that persist in predominantly white spaces. And intentionality does not change the magnitude or historical implications of the act regardless of what was meant by the noose, regardless of whether or not it was a joke, it does not change what I see.
I came together with my black peers and shed tears. Our spirits were wounded. Our hearts were heavy. At 1:00 pm, we gathered. We grieved. We listened.
Together we, along with allies, protested the act of hatred.
We chanted, “We are not afraid. We stand together.”
The power of our words grew with every utterance of our declaration.
At 5:00 pm, the university held a forum. Administrators denounced the act. Concerned students gathered. Everyone agreed that this was “not the Duke we [were] here to create.” Post-forum, my peers told me they were “ready to start the conversation.” Yet, all I heard was, “we haven’t listened to you all year.” Many shared my posts on social media as selfproclaimed allies. “#DukeYouAreGuilty” was trending.
On April 4th, 2015, my world was rocked again when Duke won the final four game against Michigan State. Duke was trending, but not for the reasons addressed at the forum just three days before. Duke trended as:
“#DDMF”
“#GoDuke”
“#DukeNation”
According to my news feed, the student body had moved on. Duke was no longer guilty now that we were on the court, but as a black student, nothing had changed. Pride for Duke basketball is not enough to mask the damage of seeing a noose on my campus. On April 4th, 2015, I felt more isolated than ever.
We can celebrate a championship that may be in the near future, but let us never forget that Duke has not yet championed a racially inclusive environment for its students. Yes, Duke Basketball Never Stops but neither does Duke’s institutionalized racism.
Jamal Edwards
T'16
President, Black Student Alliance
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