Dear Columbia University: Don’t Ditch Diversity!
My daughter and I have a standing appointment each weeknight.
We meet up in our living room at 9 p.m. CST and fire up the big screen to watch NewsNight with Abby Phillip on CNN.
Call it the shared guilty pleasure of two political news junkies.
We’re rarely disappointed; for a lightning-fast 60 minutes, a glowing Abby mediates the oftentimes bombastic conversation between five pundits who, like most Americans today, have wildly differing views on polarizing issues. Between 9 p.m. and 10 p.m., our neighbors get an earful of us either cheering or lambasting the guests for their takes on the topic at hand.
(We particularly love to hate when commentator Scott Jennings brings his smug, conservative views to the table. Don’t even get us started on multimillionaire Kevin O’Leary. “Mr. Wonderful” our asses!)
But, I digress.
In 2002, I was featured in a magazine that focused on the business of diversity in the newspaper industry.
Last night, one of the segments was about the Trump administration’s threat to pull federal funding from Columbia University unless it meets a list of demands that were outlined in a letter sent to the university’s interim president. (You can Google what led up to the federal government strong-arming Columbia, but understand that this is arguably part of a broader Trump strategy to gain control of academia at all levels. Because … the more you know doesn’t jibe with authoritarian sentimentality…but, again, I digress.)
One of the Trump administration demands reads that Columbia must “Begin the process of placing the Middle East, South Asian, and African Studies departments under academic receivership for a minimum of five years.”
What even is “academic receivership?”
According to the Associated Press, “Academic receivership is a rarely used practice that puts an academic department under the oversight of a professor or administrator outside the department. It’s sometimes used to reset a department in financial or political turmoil.”
Whatever it means, it struck me that the administration specifically called out these particular three ethnic or regional areas of study. (Of course, the letter doesn’t give an explanation as to why, but those of us with even a little bit of under-attack education can offer up a guess.)
Anyway, back to the Abby hour … During the next commercial break, I sort of nonchalantly, without any braggadocious intent at all, said to my daughter —
“I won an award from Columbia University one time.”
It was as if I said I’d collab-ed with Kendrick Lamar as a co-writer of “Not Like Us.”
“What?!” my daughter exclaimed. “What award?!?”
Well, it just so happened (I mean, honestly…this was really not planned at all) that on the floor next to me, half propped against our little bookcase, half underneath our couch, was my notebook full of circa 1990 charcoal sketches mixed in with a bundle of newspaper clippings of articles I’d penned, along with the September 2002 edition of the Newspaper Association of America’s “People & Product” magazine which focused on the Business of Diversity in the Newspaper Industry.
I prominently graced the cover of that issue along with other “New Faces of Leadership” journalists.
You see, a story I’d written had gotten some traction.
The award-winning story that addressed a glaring racial disparity
In 2001, photographer Peter Yang and I produced a six-page spread for the Austin American-Statesman on makeup for Black women in Austin, Texas.
In 2001, I was a features reporter on the staff of the Austin American-Statesman. Staff photographer Peter Yang and I produced a hard-hitting, in-depth investigative report on…well…(ahem)...yeah, um…makeup.
Yes, makeup.
Now, wait…hear me out. When you are a dark-skinned Black woman in Austin, Texas — a city that is only about eight percent Black — you are going to go through it trying to find a foundation that matches the color of your skin! In 2001 (before 9/11 happened) this was real talk!
What had happened was, without appointments, Peter and I popped into local salons and asked the beauty consultants to beat my face (again, it was 2001, so I probably said something more like “Mrs. DeMille, get me ready for my close up.”)
Long story less long, only a couple of the salons we spontaneously visited that day had any foundation makeup even close to matching the skin on my face. A couple of the makeup artists, obviously embarrassed, dabbed and daubed away on my forehead, cheeks, and chin, using as minimal amounts as possible of the darkest creams or powders they could find in their storerooms. But, even their brownest products were way above my skin grade.
It was scandalous! Our findings made for a scathing (okay, slightly remonstrative and generally light-hearted) report.
I interviewed international supermodel Iman for my investigative report on the lack of makeup for Black Women.
With my writing and Peter’s photography, our investigative work, headlined “I’m Ebony, Not Ivory,” ended up being a whole six-page spread (albeit) in Section E of the newspaper! (Even international supermodel Iman told me that “women of color, whether they are celebrities or the girl next door, share one common denominator: They have limited options and choices in terms of makeup.”)
Here’s why the piece was a “spread” and not just a blurb: Because the makeup was a metaphor for a much larger and more broadly lived experience for Black people in Austin. I may have written the piece with lightness and humor, comparing Kermit the Frog’s gripes around being green with my experiences in the beauty industry around being dark brown. But, I was also able to elevate some sober truths. Like, when I quoted a Black, Los Angeles-based makeup artist.
“If you really date back and think about it,” she said, “you’ll note that our grandmothers and great-grandmothers were busy fighting for things like freedom from slavery and the privilege to vote. It wasn’t about makeup.”
And, I was able to make the point that because my skin is dark and I live in a city where few people look like me, I likely have to search longer, travel farther, and pay more for certain products: The explication being “Racism is always racism-ing, y’all.”
For a young, Black journalist just starting out in the field, this was a heady moment! I could not have been more proud of my hometown newspaper for giving me the space to address an issue that likely directly impacted just a few of their readers. Because even then, representation matters.
In my early days of journalism, I felt so proud of the institution and its mission to cover issues of diversity, equity, and inclusion. Not so much today.
Here’s why institutions must not abandon diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts
Our work that year landed Peter and me the Columbia University School of Journalism’s “Let’s Do It Better!” award which honored print and broadcast coverage of race and ethnicity. We each won $1,000 and were flown out to the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism in New York to present at the Columbia Workshop on Journalism, Race, and Ethnicity. (This is how I ended up being prominently featured on the cover of that aforementioned magazine — a copy of which, until last night, lay dormant in a notebook between old charcoal sketches and newspaper clippings.)
I won that award early on in my journalism career. That whole experience fueled my resolve to write as much and as often as I could about issues of Blackness, diversity, equity, and inclusion. I would go on to write much more on the topics of race and racism. Back then, my adoration for the institution of journalism, and how it aimed to fulfill its mission as a watchdog for the people, was palpable. Today, not so much.
The Trump administration’s push to erase whole histories is nuts! Every day, every journalist in America should be shouting this from the tops of press rooms and studios.
And, while I’m sure Columbia University wants to continue receiving its federal funding, I hope it does not easily capitulate to the demands of a self-described wannabe king who wants us to believe that his overwhelmingly White cabinet is about merit, and who implies that White history is the prevailing history.
I want academic, journalistic, and other institutions to embrace the fact that America is diverse, and that people of so many different ethnicities, cultures, and backgrounds have contributed to whatever successes this nation can claim.
Thank you Abby Phillip for setting me off on a nostalgic journey down memory lane, where my daughter and I made a stop on the corner of makeup for Black women and my Columbia “Let’s Do It Better” award.
If only the powers that be would actually and consistently do it better.