Reflecting on Activism at Oberlin

How do you define activism? How do you see this activism manifested on Oberlin’s campus?

College fourth-year Talia Brun:

I’m currently taking a class on social movements. I feel like I should know a lot about this. That being said, I feel like it is really broad. Obviously when we think about activism we think about social movements and protesting, but I think activism is also so much more than just being out and public. I think a big part of what people don’t always recognize is that it’s a lot of labor and work. It’s a lot of application of what you’re fighting for in real life. So beyond just posting on Instagram and going to protest, I feel like activism is a lifestyle. And I don’t mean that to be pretentious, but it is just, in general, practicing what you preach and contributing in more ways. I feel like there’s a lot more talk than action here. I think, unfortunately, a lot of that activism that Oberlin was known for in the past, not just pre-COVID-19 but also in the ’70s, and ’80s has been lost. I feel like a lot of it can be attributed to COVID-19 and a lot of this historical memory that’s been lost from Oberlin by all these [fourth-years] not really being able to pass on properly all of this information or culture and tradition. I also wanna argue that the College has a lot to do with putting a damper on the way that students participate in politics or even protest or activism in general on campus. I also think that Oberlin has just become a little bit less accessible for students of color and low-income students. So that’s also really played into who is represented on this campus and who feels like they can actually have a say that’s well-educated and well-intentioned on this campus.

College third-year Annie Crocker: It’s such a hard question. I would say activism is when an childhood rejection of the color pink, my detestation of dresses, or my refusal to associate myself with anything frilly or feminine. These interests — or lack thereof — are not inherently flawed, but as I’ve grown up, I’ve learned to be intentional about why I participate in or choose to separate myself from certain gendered structures. Why did I hate pink and refuse to wear dresses? Was my self-imposed distance from these traditionally feminine structures because I didn’t like these things, or was it because I was afraid of being equated with a certain “type” of woman I had been taught to despise? In the same vein, I have been able to evaluate the structures of femininity that I now operate within. I wear makeup and I shave my legs. I am often soft-spoken or worried to speak up about my own opinions or needs. I ask myself similar questions about why I take part in these structures. Do I make these choices because I want to or because I am afraid of being judged? I do not claim to have all the answers. It is a process I am only just beginning and will continue to undertake for the rest of my life. When we talk about activism, we tend to think of large-scale events — protests and strikes, nationwide or statewide movements that bring huge groups of people together in the name of social and political reform. Involvement in these movements, whether remotely or on campus, is a shared passion among the Oberlin community. We boast groups like Students for Energy Justice, Survivors of Sexual Harm & Allies, and Students for a Free Palestine — each dedicated to advocating for or against a specific cause. And though these largescale movements are important and work to unify individuals to engage in productive dialogue and enact specific legislative goals, it is important to make space in our definition of activism for more personal growth. Collective action is only made possible by the small steps we each take toward acting on our convictions in our everyday lives.

These small journeys of self-discovery within a larger sociopolitical context are integral to the on-campus activism within Oberlin culture. There is a narrative that I have heard, specifically as a first-year on this campus, that Oberlin’s activism culture has declined within recent years. While it may be true that large-scale protests and sit-ins are less common than they were in years past, Oberlin excels in a smaller, everyday activist spirit. I have been impressed by the attention our professors give to the importance of mental health in the classroom, the respect students have for remembering to ask for each other’s pronouns at first meetings, and discussions among friends about issues of race, class, gender, and sexuality that happen on an everyday basis and allow us, as students and as people, to learn and grow. There is an understanding that Oberlin College can sometimes be a bubble, closed off from the rest of the world. This Oberlin echo chamber can, at times, be harmful due to its tendency to cut students off from differing ideas and ideologies. But in other ways, the Oberlin bubble facilitates a community of students participating in these small acts that prioritize how we interact with one another and our own shifting identities on a daily basis. individual or a group of people stand up for something that they believe in — that they think is right — and do something as a collective to demonstrate their support or their desire for change.

I think about all of the marches we had, specifically last year, with Oberlin College for Ukraine and also, I believe it was last semester, the sit-ins that students had against the Board of Trustees. I remember at the time there was a protest that ended up coming into Mudd [Center] and they had a conversation with one of the trustees. I think that [the Student Labor Action Coalition] does a lot of activism on campus for workers’ rights, especially with how underpaid a lot of the workers on this campus are.

College fourth-year Greer Hobbs:

The first thing that came to mind is that when you go out of your way to do something differently or encourage others to do something differently, that will enforce systemic social change. I’m sure there are ways that it can be implemented into your everyday life where it’s activism inserted into regular activities. I think it’s more known for when you [participate in] big actions that aren’t part of your normal routine.

It’s collective. I think not a lot of people do it on their own, which makes sense. It’s power in numbers. Earlier on in my time here, I saw a lot more protests happening. I guess that still happens to an extent — a lot of little local protests and people spreading messages online. I feel like Instagram is a big platform that people use. All the different non-activist student groups sort of also have activist elements to them, so they’re kind of interconnected. I’m in a co-op, and all the time that’s where I find out about things that are happening.