Select Page
Déjà Vu

Déjà Vu

Déjà Vu

Recently, a number of us gathered online for our 50th college reunion weekend. It was kind of surreal in a couple of ways. Not being in person and having a series of events on devices was one part of that, but the bigger part was a sense of déjà vu.

Fifty years ago, police shot students at Kent State. Our campus had closed down for ten days after that but had re-opened in time to allow us seniors to graduate. I remember feeling anxious at that point in time. We had gone through the draft lottery that spring, lots of unrests, and a lot of unknowns.

Starting to sound familiar?

Although there were all kinds of fun virtual events related to our reunion, I felt distracted. I kept seeing this cycle that comes down to this: we don’t seem to learn from previous experiences.

Yes, there has been progress and there have been some changes. But some of the changes were superficial. They weren’t the big, painful, necessary advancements that change people’s lives and hearts

We’ve seen generation after generation work to break down barriers around gay rights and gay marriage. While there’s still a way to go, I think part of that is coming to know people who identify as LGBTQIA and understanding them as friends, neighbors, family, and members of our community like anyone else.

But the deeply embedded institutional racism and sexism haven’t been touched really yet. We haven’t made systemic change.

That’s the change that’s both really painful and really necessary. While there are a lot of incredible people working to overhaul these systems, there are also lots of people who benefit from the current system and are invested in keeping it that way. We can’t let this opportunity for change pass us by.

I think people have been pointing out institutional problems along the way, but have we really listened? When we talk about having diverse campuses, for example, we are talking primarily about attending students. We’re not factoring in faculty, staff, and administrators.

Having a more diverse student population is important, but who they see as role models or people doing the work they want to do matters a great deal.

When I get that feeling of déjà vu, that feeling of “here we are again, how have we not come further,” I think about the youth who are refusing to stay silent. I hope there are enough younger people involved in this movement that when offers of superficial fixes come along, they won’t just sit down and say “we’ll settle for this.”

I still have my fingers crossed that big change will come. Hopefully soon.

 

 

 

*Barbara’s thoughts as written by Kate based on weekly (fascinating) conversations.

 

No Going Back

No Going Back

No Going Back

Something feels different this time. I don’t know if it’s the pandemic, the momentum of social movements, something in the water, or a combination of all the above, but something about this feels like a potential turning point in our history.

I’m speaking both about our history as a nation as well as our history as a community, and as an institution of higher education.

We have to be vigilant not to “return to normal.”

There’s a lot about “normal” that wasn’t working for everyone, and we have a unique opportunity to truly and deeply evaluate what we do and how we do it. We have the opportunity to build something better than what came before. Shouldn’t that always be the goal?

This is what I’m trying to keep in mind as we approach our June 26 regent meeting to approve a preliminary budget to send to the Unicameral. We are all budget, all the time. I’m not personally on the finance committee but we have been having meetings of up to (but no more than) four regents at a time in order to address concerns around the budget.

The scariest part of working on the budget is thinking about the impact it has on people.

If we end up dropping a whole program, or even part of a program, decisions like that are not easily undone. Whichever way we decide to go, there will be a ripple effect on students, faculty, and staff. We don’t take that lightly.

But instead of focusing on the fear, I like to focus on the future.

We’ve been looking at ways to not only save the school money overall, but ways we can help students save money while they’re pursuing their education. How can we support our faculty as they try to save money for the students? One example is how faculty select required materials for a course. UNO has been assisting faculty who want to revamp course materials so students don’t have to buy a bunch of $150 textbooks. We’re looking into other, more cost-effective ways to access that same information.

We also recognize that we have immensely talented and valuable faculty, and we need to figure out how to pay them what they deserve. COVID-19 has changed the formula on just about everything we’re having to consider this year, but we still should be investing in our faculty.

I think that the pandemic have given both parents and students a greater appreciation for incredible, hard-working teachers. I’m not sure that we’ve seen that same movement on the college level, but I would like to.

All of this is happening in huge messy whirlwind of re-working our budgets. It is a significant time for higher education and the University of Nebraska in particular.

Curiosity is critical. We need to be curious about the best ways to keep everyone on campus safe. We need to be curious about ways we can lighten our students’ financial burden. We need to be curious about what people do when they graduate, how it fits with what they’ve learned, and how to taper curriculum to real-world conditions.

This is valuable to us as a school, but also our society as a whole. Now is the time to look forward, not back.

 

 

*Barbara’s thoughts as written by Kate based on weekly (fascinating) conversations.

 

Listen. Learn.

Listen. Learn.

Listen. Learn.

Now is the time to listen.

Listen to the pain. Listen to the lived experience. Listen to the calls to address injustice. And when I say “listen” I mean actually take the time to process the depth of what is being said instead of jumping in or talking over others who voices need to be heard. I understand that can be difficult. The things that are the most worthwhile in life usually are. 

I have had many, many opportunities – due to my privilege – to speak in many arenas and to be heard. There are so many brilliant minds, creative, generous, and great people who never have those opportunities.

It is not only long past time to listen, but it’s important that we do it with curiosity in order to discover all that is possible if we work together. We have been sadly oblivious.

And now, faced with a long history of overwhelming injustice that continues today, as well as a pandemic that is disproportionately devastating communities of color, we need to listen to those who have been silenced. We need to hear from those whose cries for help, for change, have been largely dismissed or ignored.

Lately I’ve been thinking about the International Space Station. I thought about how incredible it is that we as a species – the same species that constantly wages war on itself – have been able to create a place with a shared, peaceful purpose of learning and discovery.  

I watched the female U.S. astronaut lead a streaming tour of the space station: where they eat, how they sleep, the different labs that are helping us explore and understand our galaxy. She spoke to her colleagues in their language, and they responded in hers.

Their lives depend on each other. They trust each other.

There is a lot that needs to change in our world, and it requires us to trust one another. We can learn from this. I believe it is possible but we must listen with our hearts and our heads.

I stand and kneel with peaceful protesters. I am discouraged by those who use this as an opportunity to commit destructive acts, but reiterate that we cannot be distracted from or lose sight of the protesters’ message. I worry for all who aren’t protecting themselves from COVID-19 with masks, just as I worry for all who risk their well-being to demand justice and change.

But instead of just worrying, I choose to listen. I invite you to listen, as well.

 

 

*Barbara’s thoughts as written by Kate based on weekly (fascinating) conversations.