Diversity 101

In his monthly column last week, entitled “Student Diversity and the Campus Climate,” President Skorton wrote that when it comes to diversity, “perception is reality.” All too true, but for those of us who meander through campus each day, the reality we perceive contradicts Skorton’s optimistic take on campus life: there’s a whole lot of polarization, and not much diversity to speak of. Skorton’s article continues in a long tradition of misunderstanding diversity as a function of numbers and figures, rather than as an ideal of mutual understanding.

The tension between diversity-on-paper and diversity-as-an-ideal has deep roots in the American education system. In trying to bridge the achievement gap between whites and non-whites at the high school level, educators traditionally poured more and more money into failing schools. But, as the sociologist James Coleman demonstrated in 1966, higher per-pupil expenditures do little to equalize achievement rates: so-called input factors like additional resources or spending rarely outweigh family background factors of race or income. Coleman argued that one of the few ways for students to overcome disparate upbringings was to learn in diverse environments.

To that same end, the Supreme Court established affirmative action programs at the college level. But, as the Court held in Grutter v. Bollinger (2003), “universities cannot establish quotas for members of certain racial or ethnic groups or put them on separate admissions tracks.” Coleman and Sandra Day O’Connor arrived at a similar conclusion: the racial achievement gap will not be bridged by increased funding, but by racial interaction within institutions.

Yet Cornell and other schools continue to discuss diversity as a function of numbers and figures. This is what diversity looks like on paper:

“The proportion of students who identify themselves as other than white has more than doubled from 20 percent in 1985 to 43 percent in 2005.” — President Skorton, in the Sept. 20 Daily Sun.

“In the September 24, 2003 edition of DiversityInc online magazine, the Ivy League universities’ web sites were graded for their demonstration of a commitment to diversity and Cornell’s web received a grade of “B” — the highest grade received by any of the Ivy League universities.” —“The Cornell Story,” a brochure created by Cornell’s Diversity and Inclusiveness department.

Isn’t it ironic that we pride ourselves on a grade that would send most overachieving Cornellians to their TA’s for makeup tests? If we’d stop taking comfort in statistics, and stop rejoicing in middling grades, we might question the numbers and figures behind our grandiose claims of diversity. Indeed, the majority of responses I received from underrepresented minorities after I last wrote about diversity suggested that we look a lot better on paper than we do in practice.

“I live in Balch because I chose not to apply to Ujamaa,” one freshman reader responded, “but I regret the decision because, being the only black person in my area, I feel like the odd one out and often, I get weird looks from other students. People do not live in Ujamaa because they hate white people, but because they need a central home. Because, even though Cornell boasts about how diverse it is, the air is very dirty between races.”

Adds another student, “I know some people find this hard to believe, but it is difficult for minority students who have grown up in a predominantly minority area to adjust to being surrounded by mostly white students and others, some of whom prejudge them as being unqualified to be at Cornell … In most cases, these students have not had the same opportunity as others. I think you would understand the frustration of these students if you were to attend a college that is mostly made up of minorities.”

These claims of isolation dramatically oppose the ideal of diversity, and they are exactly what the University should be seeking to undo. This problem hardly goes unnoticed in Day Hall. In Skorton’s own words: “Some individuals within our community doubt the seriousness of our intentions and question whether our actions and policies are conducive to fostering a more inclusive community. They wonder where we are in our quest for an ever more diverse student body.”

But that’s just the problem. Our focus — our “quest” — is always toward the future, and never mindful of the present. Just as increased funding wouldn’t help struggling high schools, and greater racial quotas couldn’t legally diversify whitewashed campuses, so too won’t higher minority admissions rates guarantee a graduating class with the skills needed to function in a diverse workplace. Last year’s racially motivated stabbing, and the administration’s ongoing support of segregated program houses and Greek organizations, demonstrate that upping the percentage of minorities on campus is not enough.

So, on a polarized campus, how do we locate diversity? One suggestion comes from student-elected trustee Doug Mitarotonda in his column yesterday, “Breaking Bread.” Mitarotonda supports a program from Colgate University, in which “student groups that cross traditional social boundaries” are provided funding to talk diversity over a jointly prepared meal.

“Breaking Bread” is a worthwhile pursuit, but it only draws on students who are already involved in organized groups. If I’ve learned anything about diversity here, it’s that people would rather opt out than dig in. We’re content with conformity, and averse to diversity. That’s why Cornell needs to force-feed us diversity, early and often.

I suggest that the University impose a mandatory weekly seminar for all its first-year students: Diversity 101. The classes should mirror the 35/65 split between non-whites and whites and the 50/50 gender split, and, with a professor well versed in open-mindedness, discuss issues of race, religion, sexuality and tolerance. We need to hammer out our differences and locate our similarities. In the absence of understanding, our cross-racial dialogues are hindered by the political correctness that’s been ingrained in our minds since grade school. We don’t know how to speak to each other, so we don’t speak at all.

The magic formula for diversity is nothing but a mirage. Our administration should work with what it already has, by appreciating the contents of our canteen, and irrigating our existing networks. Ironically, it is the pressure of progress that undoes genuine improvement. Superficial reforms are rewarded by the U.S. News & World Report rankings, while substantive changes, like Mitarotonda’s initiative, are yet to receive funding. As we’ve lost sight of the notion behind the numbers, it’s no surprise that diversity here is worn paper-thin.

Rob Fishman is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at rbf25@cornell.edu [1] Agree to Disagree appears Wednesdays.