College is a great place to wander and collide with people with substantial differences from yourself and, as Columbia University President Lee Bollinger writes, to "cross sensibilities" and to see "the world through different eyes ... realizing that your perceptions may not be accurate." Diversity on a college campus is critical to this understanding, and while we should embrace diversity in its many forms, Bollinger writes that racial diversity presents one of the most important challenges to our sensibilities.
Achieving diversity is not a passive process, and we should not consider it a noun that a community can lack or possess. We cannot rely on the Office of Admissions to make Tufts what we want it to be. Rather than a noun, diversity should be a verb, and we should measure our success as a community by how active that verb is. Supportive, nurturing communities require attention to the needs, struggles and successes of all of its members all the time. That's what community is about, and that's how we can all get the best out of Tufts.
Affirmative action is a hallmark diversity program on college campuses. Professor Lani Guinier of Harvard Law School provides an alternative way of framing this program, which she calls "confirmative action" in a December 2001 article for The Chronicle of Higher Education. This is the process of linking -- not detaching --diversity and merit, understanding that people are qualified to attend a particular school because of their identity background, not because different people need to make a campus "diverse." And because college graduates are "leaders in ... democratic polity," she writes, preferential treatment to students from marginalized communities "confirms the public character and democratic missions of higher-education institutions."
Confirmative action is helpful, too, because it doesn't stop with the admission letter, and it connects rich diversity programs with the mission statements of colleges and universities. At Tufts, this could mean more faculty and established departments for various identities studies programs, sensitivity training for faculty and staff -- and generally changing the ethos of Tufts around diversity from a point of pride to a core value.
But this is not just about the impact that others can have on us. We also need to be more sensitive to the impact that we have on others, to have an idea of what part of our identity is unexplored and it might be impacting others in unintended ways. Bollinger writes that college should help us develop "an appetite for being puzzled, for being confused, indeed for being openly stupid, and that -- despite what you may think -- is very difficult ... Use your ignorance as well as your knowledge for creative means." I would only add that we must continue to illuminate our ignorance and make new mistakes.
For example, I have been working recently on formulating my idea for a history thesis on the African diaspora in Latin America. But it wasn't until a friend of mine asked me "Why African diaspora?" and "Why Latin America?" that I was really able to engage in a meaningful way with the material. I soon realized that my interest in diaspora communities falls into a passion for promoting cross-cultural dialogue. Giving that answer is more productive when explaining my interest, and it helps me look for connections to future work.
I am thankful that I have had the opportunity to contribute to the campus community, to help create new connections between people in the student body. I am most thankful for all the relationships I have made and strengthened over the past year. But I know that most people will not remember Tufts by the student government president who was in office; we will remember Tufts for the friends we made and the activities we were a part of. I am most grateful for the opportunity to support others in their role in defining what Tufts is, for working behind the scenes in the Tufts Community Union Senate with 34 other passionate people to help make Tufts a better place. For me, the greatest benefit of the presidency was the opportunity to meet other people here who have challenged me so much.
Knowing this, I am humbled to write this piece for the Commencement issue, because I know leaders at Tufts -- in the campus, in the community and in the world -- whose thinking and accomplishments far better qualify them to address the senior class than mine. But I will do my best.
Someone told me once that the challenge of college is to become the most interesting 22-year-old you can. The current seniors are some of the most fascinating people and closest friends I know. Thank you to all for the guidance, friendship and inspiration you have given me -- and sorry if I haven't told you that until now.
--
Duncan Pickard is a rising senior majoring in history. He is the outgoing TCU president.
