I've got one question that I doubt you've pondered: HOOS ignorant? Just when we were ready to complacently forget the racial history of this University and laugh at the thought of racially motivated incidents, one happens. Have you heard about it? No? The fact that acts of malice and ignorance go heavily unnoticed in our community is almost as large a problem as the acts themselves.
My name is Amey Adkins, and last Wednesday, I found my vehicle defaced with what the politically correct would call "a racial epithet." I'm a black woman, so take one good guess as to what was written across my front hood in a disgusting substance that took a detailer to remove. Appalled, shocked and confused, I used a blue light phone to notify police, filed all the proper papers, made phone calls, had meetings and discussed my safety with administrators. After one day of concern, I heard nothing more of my story -- from anyone.
The treatment of this incident frustrates me to the core. The gravity of this event was diminished and written off as isolated -- an ahistorical analysis, at best. The investigator seemed uncoordinated, repeatedly calling my home for information after I made clear I would be staying with friends and family for the first few days after the incident. Even after the FBI began to link my case with the alleged racial assault on Daisy Lundy two years ago, I still did not feel the administration was able to support my desire to share my story with the community.
The fact that someone was bold enough to approach my car, very likely at a place on Grounds and perhaps in the alleyway behind my Lawn room, tells me that he or she is bold enough to knock on my door, call my phone or watch me in class. Next to my own concerns for my personal safety, I feel that my voice has been stifled; word of this event has slowly seeped to some people around Grounds, but the majority of people have no idea. This makes it all the more difficult to be constantly questioned, e-mailed or called to recount (and subsequently relive) the events of the past few days. I want to scream about this from the rooftops, and I had hoped that this would be done for me. I see now that the only way I will be heard is if I put forth the effort myself -- I shouldn't be responsible for this in light of what I have had to go through, but I am sickened at the thought of not turning this event into a positive situation.
Though there was an ad in last Friday's Cavalier Daily with a statement from Vice President for Student Affairs Pat Lampkin, it went unnoticed unless one was looking for it. Though I asked for an e-mail to be sent informing the community of this event, I was told that the Student Affairs' policy is to only send out e-mails when a description is available or when a threat is considered imminent. After multiple incidents, discussions and a Web site devoted to diversity awareness, there is still no protocol for how to handle such events. Haven't we dealt with enough in the past four years to realize that we need to be proactive instead of reactive?
After repeated demonstrations of racial aggression in our community, no precedent has been set for how to deal with those victimized or how to apprise the community of such events. Acts of this nature are not passive; they are deliberate, harmful assaults and must be treated as such. If the mindsets shown by what took place last week are truly the minority opinion, it is only appropriate to call such incidents to the whole community's attention. Must we wait for someone to be physically harmed before our community can come together in support, or even be made aware of such bigotry?
This incident at the start of the school year could have easily been capitalized for its educational potential and used as a stepping stone for unity and awareness. However, I feel that without my pressing the issue, it will soon be forgotten and will remain unsubstantially acknowledged. If so, we can really begin the countdown to the next racial incident. As far as our administration is concerned, it is easier to keep things quiet. Be reminded, however, that silence is consent. It is time that we stopped being so worried about our reputation and started dealing with our reality; otherwise things will get much worse before they get better. HOOs ignorant, you ask? We all are if we continue to apathetically turn a blind eye.
Amey Adkins is a fourth year in the College of Arts and Sciences.