Speaking for those who can speak for themselves
Before I started school, I had this romantic vision that college was a place where you get different perspectives on life.
You meet all kinds of people who are different from you racially, religiously, sexually, economically, nationally, et cetera. These different perspectives are supposed to make you a more enlightened individual.
However, from my experience so far, talking to people of different perspectives doesn’t happen as often as it should.
We have a tendency here at NDSU to seek opinions of different people not by listening to different people, but by listening to people who are like us and who talk about different people.
Let me give you an example. I’ve worked as a peer mentor for Residence Life for two years now.
Throughout the year, we have training periods where we attend sessions on various topics that are relevant to the job.
Through ResLife, I’ve probably attended three or four sessions on race and racism.
Because we might have students on our floors that are different than us racially, it’s good for us to understand how to interact with them in a supportive way.
Sounds good in theory, right? Unfortunately, when I attended these sessions, the audience was 90 percent white and the speakers are always white.
White people, talking to other white people, about the struggles of minorities.
Something doesn’t sound right here.
Instead of listening to people who are like us talk about those who are unlike us, why don’t we talk to those who are unlike us about those who are unlike us?
I think whites, especially white males (myself included), have a tendency to speak for others. We call them the voiceless.
We think that it is our duty to right the wrongs of previous generations, and we do this by giving a voice to the voiceless.
But instead of letting the voiceless speak, we find it easier just to speak for them.
Let me give you another example. I few weeks back I wrote an article about abortion, hoping to spark some dialogue on the issue.
It did spark dialogue; I succeeded there.
However, the only letters to the editor printed in this paper and the only comments I received from outside of The Spectrum were from males —males who were speaking only for females and not their own gender.
The problem with trying to hear the voice of others, though, is that here at NDSU, other perspectives are severely limited.
Looking at the promotional brochures NDSU sends to perspective students, you’d think NDSU has a lot of diversity, since there’s always a good mix of minorities in the pictures.
When you actually get here to school, though, you realize the vast majority of the students are white and come from Christian backgrounds.
That doesn’t mean other voices aren’t present, though.
There are still lots of international students, people from other religions, sexual orientations and economic backgrounds; you just need to know where to look for them.
So for those of us who fall into the majority, I urge you to stop trying to speak for others.
How can we have meaningful discussions with people who are unlike us when we don’t even include them in the conversation?
My recent article on Muslims did spark a lot of dialogue outside of The Spectrum’s pages with three Muslim graduate students, who I’ve been speaking with.
In my next article, I want to share their views of the Middle East with you so other students can hear what they have to say.
Dennis is senior studying management communication.
Columnists' opinions do not necessarily reflect the views of The Spectrum