It's that simple bit of philosophy: Why are we here? More specifically, why are we on this campus? And, here in this paper, why are we journalists?
Hopefully, the answer isn't to build a resume, or to get your byline read. And hopefully, the answer also doesn't include the word "objective," because in a world where power is concentrated at the top, treating "all sides as equal" and letting them unfairly battle it out themselves is anything but fair and accurate.
In this election, the Daily rejected an endorsement of the activist presidential candidate because that would (somehow problematically) "mean that [the Daily] values the student voice above all else, even when it means stepping on the toes of the administrators." If ever there was an instance of a violation of journalistic integrity - if ever there was a "responsibility" that an independent student publication has - it was to amplify and uphold the voices and rights of those our society has systematically ignored. Where we are: Administrators have power over students. There was a candidate who, for his entire career, has undertaken the mantra of liberation passionately and compassionately, and that was disregarded. On Tuesday, the voices of the student body - despite the numerous op-ed digs at progressive activists this week, including accusations of being "alienating" and "too radical" - spoke up in support of the progressive activist. Joe Thibodeau fights for the underprivileged. And, for shame, his candidacy was rejected by a media that ought to be doing the same.
The fact that an endorsement is made at all proves a truth that is often subverted: Newspapers are politically powerful, and they know that they are. But not just in what headline appears above the editorial every day - they're powerful in every word that they publish. Everything is political. Running an ad plastered over an entire page of the paper that violently targets Muslim students and their allies is an agonizingly obvious instance of this and is blatantly unacceptable. But every aspect of this paper, every aspect of this community, that tries to shield itself from our ferociously unequal and oppressive culture by billing itself as nonpolitical is upholding that very culture itself.
Why are we here? The answer is the same for every level of specificity you can iterate through: We're here to live and to facilitate the living around us. Oppression stunts living. The stories that are untold are of those who have to fight to live. We're here for every religious student whom the CSL policy threatens to exclude from their own community. For every sexual assault survivor who has been ignored or dismissed by a Sexual Misconduct Policy tainted by Tufts' dedication to a false image or security. For everyone who wants to integrate their experience with their academics - as real "education" ought to mandate you do - through critical race studies, for everyone who's been assaulted for being Korean or whose success is crushed under the pressure of a structurally unequal academia. And for everyone who has attempted suicide after being dragged underwater by the pain of living in an unsafe space and having been ignored by those with the power to help them.
We have an obligation to the lives of those around us. People, editors and reporters and op-ed writers and students alike, will toss out accusations of "radicalism." But the use of the word "radical" at all is an admission that something is grossly wrong with our system. The second we let the word leave our lips, let's admit it: We should be radical. In everything we're doing, we are living out why we're here. And we're here for each other.
--
Walker Bristol is a junior majoring in religion and philosophy. He can be reached at walker.bristol@tufts.edu.
