Grown and Tired: A Letter to Academia by Jordan Harper

I often struggle to make sense of my position in academia. One day he’s kind, one day he’s violent; one day I love him, one day I don’t. While I certainly do not speak for the entire Black graduate student community, I am sure that many will agree with some of these points. This letter is not to sing the praises of the academy, but more so to grapple, in public, with the tensions that many of us hold and have to sort through on our own. We hold deep care and admiration for some of the people that make up the institution (i.e., students, faculty, staff), but at the same time, we struggle with existing in a space that cares little about authenticity, transparency, transformation, and liberation.

• And as a result, Black graduate students lose some of the ones we love and care for because of it.
• As a result, we continue to perpetuate harm and violence.
• As a result, we run the hamster wheel of diversity, equity, and inclusion conversations and wonder why nothing has translated into action.
• As a result, we talk a big game about transforming institutions and infusing new practices and policies, but the conversation rarely leaves the Zoom rooms or the pages in the academic journals because we fail to address deep, structural issues such as white supremacy and neoliberalism.

Dear Academia,

The optimism and curiosity that brought me to you (academia) can no longer sustain me. One could argue that it is fun to read and write—but it is also exhausting. Especially when we are reading pieces that were written decades ago and still nothing has changed. Especially when our hope is dwindling down to the size of a mustard seed, the same size of the faith you tell us to have. We act as if the university is divorced from broader society. When the world is on fire, the ivory tower is too. But you act as if it is not. Faculty and administrators alike have continued to make poor and irrational decisions about operating during a global pandemic that continues to disproportionately claim the lives of Black people in comparison to other racial groups. You do not have our best interest at heart. We must look out for ourselves, learn how to say no, speak up and speak loudly, and surround ourselves with a community of people who center radical love and care.

We can no longer let you (academia) make us feel a sense of guilt or shame. We must prioritize your undoing and critique the very institution we are a part of. We must ask for forgiveness for neglecting our intuitions and our mental health. We must sit with the tension of existing in academia and recognizing the harm it is doing to our people. We must reconvene relationships that have faltered. We must take the picture that is academia, break it, and take a hard look at the pieces and figure out a new way of existing while also simultaneously sitting with the idea that some pieces are better left on the ground. We must stop romanticizing the institution and the credential we receive at the end.

The time has come to (re)center ourselves, our interests, and our commitments. Academia, you do not love us, and just because we are nestled within your arms does not mean we have to necessarily love you back. It is a deeply complex and nuanced relationship that we should interrogate. Graduate students, repeat after me: I will no longer hasten to the throne of academia. From this day forward I am recommitting to myself and my interests and investing in the things that sustain and affirm me.

Sincerely,

A Grown and Tired Black Graduate Student

Jordan Harper is a Ph.D. student in the Urban Education Policy program at USC’s Rossier School of Education and a research assistant in the Pullias Center for Higher Education. His research interests include leadership, change, non-tenure-track faculty, and non-academic staff in higher education.