A Response to the Silent Protest

By Felix Yeung

Columnist

Like many, I was stunned to hear of the incident that occurred at the annual Halloween Costume Contest. The costume, depicting a “wall” with a “Make America Great Again” slogan on it, was offensive and degrading—deeply so—to many. I recognize this anguish and affirm the people who suffered it. The choice to present this costume was not well thought-out, nor was it empathetic to members of the Academy community. Yet, I have some qualms about the way that members of this community have chosen to respond—both those who felt this hurt and those who did not.

What follows is not an evaluation of the intentions of the staff members. On that, I have nothing to offer—I have not spoken to the staffers in question, nor have I attempted to. Equally, this is not an evaluation of the pain that was caused. I cannot speak to that, being an outsider to the groups that were hurt. On that hurt, all I can do is listen. Instead, the words that follow are my thoughts on the events that unfolded after this incident occurred. It is my analysis of how people responded to the impact that this incident had on our community.

I will begin with the actions of those whom this incident did not affect. I have heard several of my peers question whether the event was problematic at all. By and large, these individuals are not members of the communities that spoke out against the costume.

To them, I have only one question: how can you, as an outsider to these communities, comment on whether this incident was hurtful or not? The short answer is: you can’t. Rather than minimizing the experiences of those who felt their identities demeaned by what happened, these individuals should try to listen and engage. Then, they should try to empathize.

Instead, several of these students, as well as adults, were callous at the silent protest that occurred on Friday. They pushed through the human chain that some students formed, purposefully disrupting the protest.

All the while, there were alternate entryways to the Grill area that students and adults could have used. If these students had thoughts about the protest, they could also have steered clear of Grill and aired them at a later time. Students who felt hurt should have had a forum to air their pain, unbothered by others who disagreed with their methods. Certainly, disagreement is healthy. But so is giving people the space to heal—and people did need to heal.

Now, I turn to the response of those who did take offense to the costume. The evening of the contest, word of a protest during Assembly Break disseminated on social media. Later on, another statement was released, indicating that the protest was not targeted towards specific employees of Grill.

The timing of these statements left room for confusion. The organizers of the event should have clarified from the very beginning that the protest was not against specific employees. They should have announced with the protest that its purpose was to bring to light an endemic issue at the Academy: “a lack of concern for the Latinx community on campus.” They should also have list their four demands before the protest itself.

Moreover, the organizers should also have clarified that they notified the Grill workers of the planning of the protest. Without this information, they implied to the student body, again, that the protests were about those specific staff members. While the staffers themselves knew that this protest was not against them, the community did not. Thus, the protest could have sent the message that the Grill workers were being effectively condemned, without any chance at reconciliation.

The organizers should also have provided more context for the protest itself. As several people have relayed to me, the issues surrounding identity and marginalization are ones that have existed at Exeter for a long time—we see that in what happened with the Afro-Latinx Exonian Society’s proposal several years ago and numerous other events that illustrate how discussions on race have been and continue to be fraught. At the time, a number of proposals on diversity sat on then-Principal MacFarlane’s desk for a hundred days with no updates on its progress. As a result, the club’s Arts Committee produced a video, highlighting stories of racial atrocities. The administration’s resultant all-school assembly was met with a sit-in in the Principal’s Office. The majority of students at Exeter were not present for these incidents; yet, it is vital that what happened continues to be told. Thus, context is vital to ensuring that the intentions of the protest are clear and the ends necessary.

Due to the content and timing of the announcements, I feel that this protest caused additional divisiveness in our community. It could have been perceived as a protest against specific individuals—which it was not—rather than a protest against a general problem. Frankly, this undermined the very mission that the organizers were trying to achieve. They would have likely been better served by more clarity in their communications.

But my questions extend beyond the lead-up to the protest; they concern the execution itself too. I’d like to begin with when the protest took place. Assembly Break is a twenty-minute period. This incident, I feel, requires more time to unpack than that. Last year, the sexual assault sit-in lasted over two hours, and public discussion about it with Principal Rawson extended into Assembly next day. To truly allow students to stand as one, the organizers should have set a time that would allow for an extended protest or discussion.

I also wonder if the mode of protest was the most conducive to the organizers’ intentions. According to the document released, the organizers hoped to initiate discussion with their actions. They wanted to create solidarity and build a movement.

To that end, was a silent protest the best way to do this? Should the protesters have tried to start a discourse? Should they have tried to pose questions to the administration about how this incident happened and the steps we can take as a community to heal? Certainly, silent protests have historical meaning and can be effective tools to send a message. Still, I question the extent to which we can spark a discourse by beginning with silence. After all, this is a community, one that must be willing to engage about its faults to advance as a whole.

Lastly, I wonder why the protesters decided to form a human wall. One of the mantras shared on social media was as follows: “Build movements, not walls.” Why, then, was a wall built in Grill? The manner in which the protest played out did not seem, to me, to be encouraging of dialogue later on. I understand that the human chain may have been a sign of solidarity—or something else entirely. But to wall off Grill seemed to imply a desire for separation instead of connection and communal reflection. At the very least, the organizers should have explained the purpose or meaning behind this wall.

In my view, these issues would not have arisen had there been more time between the initial incident and the protest itself. I wholly affirm the desire and need to protest. I believe that when students see injustice, they should stand up united. At the same time, I believe that protest needs to happen after much conscious thought and meticulous planning. I believe that, in this case, the organizers would have benefitted from more of the latter.

Now, some may wonder if the onus for such clarity in communication falls on the organizers of the protest. In my view, it does. To have an effective movement for change, the intentionality behind the protest must be clear. To rally others behind a cause, the context around the protest must be clear. Without clarity, there is room for conscious misconstruction and unconscious misinterpretation.

I air my thoughts because I believe this is a time when we can make genuine change. This is a time when we can come together as a community and talk about what happened, when we can talk about what continues to happen to students of various backgrounds and creeds. This is a time when we can forge a stronger whole. I am committed to the intentions of the organizers—to spark a dialogue, to begin a difficult conversation that needs to be had. That is why I feel the need to offer my perspective. I hope these efforts affect the greatest degree of change. Because change needs to happen. And I believe it can—if only we learn from each other with honesty, courage and a shared commitment to the core values of this institution.