YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, AUGUST 28, 2015 · yaledailynews.com
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FRIDAY FORUM
DEBATING THE TITLE "MASTER"
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COUNTER-POINT GUEST COLUMNIST JT FLOWERS
GUEST COLUMNIST TONY KRONMAN
On Oxbridge and Pierson Our honorable masters
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ost reading this have already formed firm opinions on Stephen Davis’ decision to remove the title “master” from Pierson College’s operational lexicon. I ask only that you enter this conversation open to hearing another perspective. I will address the topic specifically as it pertains to Pierson, and without outlining its contextual implications within the other residential colleges. Still, I believe that a justified structural change in Pierson College would necessitate uniform change across them all. The term “master” at Yale was not coined with the intent of carrying any racial weight. To claim that the term is inherently racist is patently false. As it pertains to our University’s 12 residential colleges, the title “master” is plainly rooted in the British Oxbridge system. Within such a system, the term applies exclusively to the head of an educational institution in an indiscriminate, non-racialized fashion. However, it is important to ground this discussion within the framework of the larger conversation on race taking place right now in America. The U.S. is a country in the process of rethinking its own identity. Contemporary social pressures call on citizens to consistently and systematically question the cultural origins of structures, institutions and formalities. We exist in an era where interpretations of history itself are being revised to reflect the struggles of the many communities fighting for a voice in the budding American attempt at a fully inclusive society. For many Yalies of color, such struggles are directly linked to residential college vernacular. A friend who grew up surrounded by plantations in Fayetteville, Georgia, told me she finds it impossible to separate the various meanings of “master,” having been raised in a Southern culture where its meaning is inextricably tied to slavery, violence and oppression. This is
the type of perspective that must be institutionally recognized and accounted for if we hope to advace as an inclusive community. That is not to say, however, that the discomfort of one individual is justification for the abolishment of a contextual term established within a non-marginalizing system. But the fact that a term with several meanings exists within a residential college with a particularly racist history should prompt discussion. On the Facebook group Yale Political Discussions, one Piersonite wrote, “the use of the word “master” […] could be offensive in a certain context, but the way it’s being used here has no real relation to that offensive context.” For those who agree with Davis’ decision, failure to distinguish between the two distinct frameworks outlined above is every bit as counterproductive as it is polarizing. The student went on to quip that taking grievance with the word’s usage at Yale “would be like if there was a building named ‘Lee Hall’ after Bruce Lee,” and someone found the name offensive because “Robert E. Lee was a Confederate general.” Though valid and soundly reasoned on its surface, this argument fails to account for the deeply ingrained emotional and psychological implications of U.S. racial history on contemporary students of color. Ten of Yale’s 12 residential colleges are named after known slave owners or men who supported slavery. Coincidentally, Pierson College has perhaps the most racially charged history of all. Until 1960, Pierson’s unofficial mascot was quite literally a slave. The college’s weekly publication was aptly titled “The Pierson Slave.” A “Bring a Slave” party was hosted onsite. Lower Court was referred to as “the Slave Quarters” until a Black Student Alliance at Yale protest in 1980 — long after the Civil Rights Movement. The context of a word matters indeed.
Though the residential college title “master” is not literally racialized or marginalizing, it is imperative to recognize that Yale’s adapted Oxbridge system does not exist within a historical vacuum. A word’s context is defined not only by its established origin and intent, but by the social, cultural and political forces acting alongside it as well. When considered alongside the history of Pierson College, the title “master” assumes an additional layer of significance that cannot be accounted for by the Oxbridge model. Associative overlap exists between the two verbal contexts. In referring to an authority figure as “master” in such a landscape, one cannot help but think of the Pierson College of 35 years ago. One cannot help but think of Fayetteville, or question whether to say “the master of my college” or “my master.” One cannot help but fight the hint of visceral discomfort welling in the depths of the gut. The vernacular change in Pierson requires a shift across the board. While every college does not reflect Pierson’s specific past, each shares the overarching racial narrative of both our University and this country. This is neither a matter of hypersensitivity nor political correctness. This is the result of a holistic consideration of the many ways that weighted history can subtly and unintentionally seep into the social fabric of otherwise benign practices, traditions and formalities. Such is the reality of a residential college system — and a nation — coming to terms with the full extent of its cultural complexity. Davis’ decision represents a firm step forward for our University. Tradition and history notwithstanding, there is no substitute for progress. JT FLOWERS is a junior in Pierson College. Contact him at javaughn.flowers@yale.edu .
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he master of Pierson College has declared that he wishes no longer to be called “master” by anyone who might otherwise be inclined to address him as such, out of courtesy or a respect for tradition. His decision is of such little consequence that were larger interests not at stake, it would hardly deserve a reply. But his ill-considered judgment reflects wider currents of feeling that present a real danger to our community. To begin with, I must object to what seems the procedural irregularity of Master Stephen Davis’ pronouncement. Procedure can be the enemy of conscience. But it is also the guarantor of many values we cherish. “Master” is not a designation enjoyed by the master of Pierson College alone. He shares it with many others. Before any individual master takes the presumptuous step of declaring the title morally offensive, would it not be appropriate to raise the question with his or her fellows (and perhaps even to put it to a vote) before unilaterally declaring his own moral contempt for the title? Is his position so like that of the brave abolitionists who declared their conscientious opposition to slavery that he too is properly deaf to the judgments of others? His is an act of insufferable arrogance, unbecoming the dignity of one who is supposed to exemplify the spirit of open mindedness that is the lifeblood of Yale College. It reflects the enervating spirit of all-too-ready offense that has deformed our culture and produced the absurd demand for “trigger warnings” that seems, against all belief, to be gaining ground in America’s colleges and universities. As to the substance of the matter, “master” is a word with many meanings. It is what slaves called their owners. It is also what students have for centuries called their teachers. What the word means at Yale ought
to be determined by the context most relevant to its construction. Can there be any doubt that the right one is the academic setting in which the title is conferred and used? It may be that those who designed Yale’s residential college system were guilty of an anxious wish to emulate the Oxbridge model. But can anyone seriously contend that their use of the word “master” was meant to endorse the very different system of authority that underlay the antebellum plantation? Some will respond — this is Master Davis’ position — that it makes no difference so long as one possible meaning of the term is the offensive one that a single student places upon it. But those who make this their standard substitute for a democratic rule the requirement of unanimity (or, to put it pejoratively, the heckler’s veto). But such a requirement is hopelessly impractical (except, perhaps, around the kitchen table). In larger and more diverse communities, it produces mediocrity and quiescence. And if not constrained by some conception of reasonableness, it stifles democracy, debate and the habit of living with others who see things differently. It may masquerade as courage but is cowardice in fact because it cannot stand to live with disagreement. How small and unworthy of Yale. An undergraduate education at Yale is premised on the assumption that young people ought to challenge the traditions they have inherited. That is more than sound; it is indispensible to their growth as self-respecting men and women. But there is another side to the question. None of us comes into the world naked. We are all the beneficiaries of the traditions we inherit. Science is a tradition. Respect for equality is a tradition. And it has been a tradition at Yale for the better part of a century to call those who are responsible
TONY KRONMAN is the Sterling Professor of Law and a former dean of Yale Law School. Contact him at anthony.kronman@yale.edu .
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for overseeing the welfare of the students living in our residential colleges, “master,” regardless of race, sex or anything but the academic and personal distinction that has presumably led the president of Yale to entrust them with this duty. This is a tradition that should not be thrown away casually. Yes, there are rotten traditions. But is this one? I don’t see it, and Master Davis’ failure to give the question the consideration it deserves suggests that his reflections are not the ‘soulful’ ones they seem, but in reality self-serving and thoughtless instead. But that is hardly important. Master Davis is only one man, inflated by a sense of his own moral prestige. The troubling thing is the general devaluation of tradition his decision implies. When tradition becomes suspect for no other reason than that it carries the dead hand of the past, god help us. For then we are but the “flies of a summer” living in the self-indulgent glow of a moral certitude that has nothing to do with our connection to those who prepared the way for us and will follow us soon enough. Is this really a human way to live? Is it the way Yale College aspires to teach its students to live? I hope not, and with all my heart hope that those most immediately touched by Master Davis’ puerile declaration declare themselves with equal vigor in favor of procedural regularity, a sensible interpretation of words and the value of preserving Yale’s honorable traditions in a world that increasingly views all traditions with suspicion and erases them whenever it can, so that we may at last dwell in righteousness as the history-less citizens of Kant’s kingdom of ends.
GUEST COLUMNIST ESHE SHERLEY
GUEST COLUMNIST ISAAC COHEN
Small terms, large impact
Master your emotions
s many of us have now heard, Stephen Davis, a religious studies professor and the head of Pierson College, recently asked the Pierson community to no longer refer to him as “master.” When I first heard about the announcement, my initial response was: That’s nice, but not that big of a deal. Then I thought about many of the experiences that I and other black Yalies have had over the years. I remembered the time my friend sat down to lunch with two white guys in her college and one of them commented that black Yalies and athletes were basically the same group of people. Or when an all-white group of “counter protestors” came to the Unite Yale rally and told us, while yelling over the testimonies of students of color and students struggling with mental illness, that we should just quit whining. Or all the times someone said something blatantly ignorant in section or seminar and it was up to me to expend valuable energy to set them straight. And I realized that the small stuff, taken together, is important. Professor Davis’ logic that we ought to stop calling him “master” rests on the insight that racism can operate through the small and constant ways that we structure daily human interactions. Part of this dynamic has been termed “microaggressions” — where people in dominant groups intentionally or unintentionally marginalize other groups through everyday interactions. But it is also broader than the interpersonal — racism also operates through the institutional ways
that communities indicate who is a part of the community, and who isn’t. For some, the Yale convention of calling their head of college “master” makes them feel outside of the community. When we open up the question of “masters” at Yale to uncover this broader principle, it reveals a greater opportunity for our campus to become a more hospitable place for black students and other students of color. If we were content having a more narrow conversation, we could all call Davis “head of college” and pat ourselves on the back. But once we open up the broader question, there is no room for complacency; it forces us to not only reckon with how racism structures every facet of university life, but also with our responsibility to change it. Racism is a pervasive part of United States culture. Odds are, you have had a thought, or acted in a way, that helps create and recreate the racist culture that we all live in, even at Yale. But that doesn’t mean each of us should not actively commit to combating even the small ways racism manifests itself in our everyday lives. Today, the class of 2019 will step onto Yale’s campus. They’ll be full of anxiety, expectations and hope about what this place has in store for them. As a community, we have a responsibility not to let them down. Professor Davis’ decision to publicly ask students not to refer to him as “master” reflects a commitment to fighting the small but important battles against racism on this campus. It is a challenge to not merely intellectualize
about how racism pervades everything, but to do something about the pieces of it we can control. This doesn’t let us off the hook for dealing with the often intractable systemic issues that students of color face. Even if we worked tirelessly to reflect anti-racist values on a smaller scale, we would still have work to do. This is a principle that extends beyond racism. Sexism, homophobia, transphobia, classism and all other forces that marginalize our fellow students have a way of constantly shaping our interactions, our relationships to one another and to Yale. It is when a trans Yalie can’t get anyone to call them by their proper pronouns. It is when Yalies, particularly women, must endure flippant comments about sexual assault. And it is when a Yalie with a disability isn’t able to access many of the spaces on Yale’s campus. There are many things about how oppression functions that we can’t immediately address on this campus. There’s no way around that. But there’s also no way around the fact that there are many things we can control — within Yale as an institution, within our extracurricular clubs and within ourselves, in order to make this the kind of place where all of us can feel as respected as possible. As the newest Yalies arrive on campus, we owe them, and ourselves, at least that. ESHE SHERLEY is a senior in Morse College. Contact her at eshe.sherley@yale.edu .
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t matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. That is the last stanza of “Invictus,” a popular Victorian poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley. This ode to perseverance has inspired many: Nelson Mandela is said to have kept it scrawled on a scrap of paper in his cell on Robben Island, and Winston Churchill paraphrased its closing lines in a speech to Parliament in 1941. Is “Invictus” now toast? Its famous last couplet uses that now infamous word: master. This word, we are told, is “offensive” and hurtful. It is “deeply problematic”; it carries “racial and gendered weight”; students forced to use it have been “viscerally marginalized.” Never mind that the title “master,” as we use (or once used) it at Yale, has nothing to do with American slavery or with the subjugation of black people. But the decision has already been made, and we must fall all over each other to get in line. Out with “master,” in with “head of college.” Few will say it, but many will think it: This is deeply silly, and it is unbecoming of Yale’s students and its faculty. Ousting the word “master” will impoverish our language and our thoughts. “Master” connotes much more than the master-slave relationship. It is a fine word, rich with meaning. “Master” originates with the Latin “magister,” meaning “teacher.” The word connotes erudition, skill and wisdom, which is often hard won. A master is a person who has developed expertise in
some area, who has honed his or her talents to a high degree or who has learned something useful about leadership or life that elicits the admiration of others. There are golf masters, concertmasters and master builders. “Master” is often what we call little boys, whom we adore, before they become men, perhaps in anticipation of the men we hope they will become. The word “master” also bespeaks courage, self-discipline and self-control — mastery over oneself and one’s mind. It is this connotation that I would invite my fellow Yalies to ponder. Black men and women are woefully underrepresented in computer science, math, economics, medicine, academia and so many other vital fields. It is not the use of words like “master” that prevents them from entering these arenas in greater numbers. Common sense dictates that study and scholarship are far more likely to help than a university-wide kumbaya about our “sensitivity” and our “compassion.” Some will answer that sensitivity and achievement are not mutually exclusive. A few students are upset. Does it hurt to indulge them? Actually, I think it harms them, and the rest of us, a great deal. We only have so much time at Yale, and only so much mental and emotional energy to spare. Are we to spend it nursing feelings of offense and hurt in response to such a rich, meaningful and ultimately benign word? Are we to spend it banishing “master,” or developing mastery? In his email explaining his decision to drop the title “master,” Professor Davis said that he had “heard stories and wit-
nessed situations involving members of our community … who have felt it necessary to move off campus their junior or senior year to avoid a system where the title ‘master’ is valorized.” Are these Yale students of whom he writes? How, with all due respect, do they ever get anything done? Are they mastering game theory, biochemistry, public policy, literature, the arts or some other subject of their choice? How will they function in graduate school? As scientists, writers, lawyers, doctors, civil rights advocates? How will they govern? Purging the title “master” from our lips is not a step forward. It is certainly not progress. It is a step backward — to petty distractions, to navel-gazing and most of all to solipsism. In pouring our efforts and energy into eliminating this title, we allow self-obsession to substitute for true achievement and for real progress — the improvement of human abilities and minds. Sadly, this move represents not only individual selfobsession, but also a community’s self-obsession — the Yale community’s. We do not seem to be encouraging our peers to be the masters of their fates and the captains of their souls. We seem rather to be nurturing a childlike parochialism — that vain urge to peer first into one’s own feelings and emotions, putting inner states ahead of an outward focus on the wider world. I wonder: Can Yale students master their emotions, or will their emotions master them? ISAAC COHEN is a senior in Davenport College. Contact him at isaac.n.cohen@yale.edu .
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