On February 10, in the dark of the night, someone posted a series of writings by people of color in a stairwell at the U of M Barbara Barker Center for Dance. As spring progressed more images, words and phrases like “Privilege” and “What are you ashamed of?” continued to appear, all accompanied by the word “THIS.”

THIS is an anonymous protest. It is making people angry and making people talk. It addresses institutional racism, a series of non-overt practices that are inherent in our system. It criticizes faculty members who have spent years doing their best to fight racism. It refuses to delineate any specific instance of wrongdoing.

“When the protest first started, many people thought it was a project for my class,” said Ananya Chatterjea, director of the dance program. “I thought, finally, here we are. They’re joining our work.”

But then came the “Open letter to the Dance Program,” posted March 9 on the glass walls of the main floor lobby. “THIS protests against the lack of safe space for students of Color in this program. THIS protests against the failure of the faculty as representatives of the University, to provide students the resources they need to be anti-racist allies,” it reads. “THIS is your problem. You are responsible for it.”

The letter was hurtful and confusing for many faculty members who say they have spent years doing their best to fight racism. Four out of the eight core dance faculty are people of color. Chatterjea was born in India and heads a dance troupe of women of color.

Neither a mandatory town hall meeting nor a follow-up gathering led to any real solutions or revealed specific examples of racism. The group took down some of the postings, but the letter and much of the work remain in place.

In an e-mail interview, the protesters said that they maintain anonymity to keep focus off of individual wrongs and on the broad issue of institutional racism. Furthermore, they do not feel safe revealing their identities to faculty members who, they say, do not welcome criticism. But the lack of hard evidence has both classmates and faculty skeptical.

“I’ve never seen nor have I heard anyone expressed atmospheres of being silenced or being discriminated against, based on race or body type,” says Jeremy Bensussan. A third-year dance student, Bensussan started a Facebook group where he hoped students would anonymously post specific examples of institutional racism—no one did.

Bensussan admits, though, that he does not have a clear understanding of what institutional racism means. “I’ve been really struggling with that one,” he says. “I can’t tell you how to recognize it.”

“Institutional racism is a system of practices, values and norms that produce race-based disparities,” says Zenzele Isoke, an assistant professor in the Gender, Women and Sexuality Studies department who focuses on U.S. black women’s politics and activism. “It’s not just a concept; it’s not just a theory. It’s practices that result in observable harm to certain groups.”

It’s hard to argue that there is no institutional racism in the dance department. For one thing, it’s a part of a university that charges thousands in tuition each year. Entrance is contingent on success in high schools where students of color may feel unsafe or unrepresented. Schools in troubled districts may not prepare students for the SATs. More specifically, dance requires training that can be costly.

Chatterjea says that the nature of dance performance makes race that much more important. “So a painter paints an image. We do not see the painter’s body. We see the work. Dance is an encounter with bodies in an immediate moment. The moment we encounter bodies we recognize that there is race, there is gender,” she says.

Although Isoke says she has personally experienced institutional racism, she does not sympathize with the protesters. “Who feels safe ever? Do you think it’s easy for any student to feel safe in class when the instructor is different from you? That doesn’t mean that you don’t take risks. You still have a responsibility if you consider yourself a part of a community,” she says. “Just think of the civil rights movement. Those people made themselves vulnerable.”

The protesters say they have no plans to reveal their identities. So, for now, people are certainly talking, certainly thinking, but more than anything they’re scratching their heads.

Tags: Race, West Bank