Conversation surrounding Flint’s water crisis is dangerously stunted

On (the) edge: Appreciating the liberal arts: STEM elitism and the myth of the easy major

When I tell people that I attend Bowdoin, I always receive one of two reactions: either the judgmental “What is that?” or the impressed “Oh, good for you.” For those in the latter group, the fact that I go to Bowdoin is enough to warrant praise. To them, the acceptance letter and degree progress hints towards a successful future. Within the walls of this institution, however, simply pursuing a degree is not enough; one must pursue the right type of degree. This belief, likely held by students across the country, is the myth of the “easy” major.
This myth perpetuates the notion that certain majors are not as important as others. For most, the line between an impressive major and a “joke” major is drawn between science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) and the social sciences and humanities. Many people place STEM majors on a pedestal and regard others as inferior. This mindset seems to stem from the the belief that majoring in a STEM field will result in obtaining a practical and high-paying career.
I delve into this issue as neither an apologetic STEM major, nor a scorned humanities scholar. In fact, my schedule this semester consists of two lab sciences and two humanities courses. I understand the struggle of spending hours in the laboratory and leaving to find that the sun is long gone. I also understand the exhaustion of watching the sun rise while trying to write a 10 page paper. As someone living both lives, I have begun to question the reasons for the perceived hierarchy.
I have witnessed the aforementioned myth in action many times; from my mother’s caring, yet frustrating, push for me to focus on math and science to STEM elitism from students in my classes. When I return home for breaks, I often answer questions about classes and my eventual future with banter about my science courses only. I find myself instinctively dwelling on “Biogeochemistry” when people ask about my current courses, likely because I subconsciously want to talk about what I know sounds most impressive. Because of my science coursework, I have also heard this myth perpetuated from the inside. Stressed out STEM majors are quick to say they should “just be an English major.” While studying, my peers have looked at laughing students nearby and questioned how they have free time, reasoning that they “must be a sociology major.” Then, there’s the decades-old joke that psychology majors should study a “real” science.
Though I see the trouble with this mindset, I do not intend to vilify these students; in fact, I have caught myself thinking similar thoughts on more than one occasion. Long nights in Hatch Science Library are tiresome, as are afternoons in lab. Degrading the work of others in order to place importance on your own is almost therapeutic. In essence, I believe that this phenomenon comes down to a very common, though underlying, need for validation, as well as a society-bred feeling of self-importance.
The ludicrousness of this myth is glaring once explored. First off, I find it hard to believe that any Bowdoin department could ever be considered easy. A rigorous curriculum is part of the Bowdoin experience, not the Bowdoin STEM experience. Humanities and social science majors may not spend hours in a lab, but this does not mean that they have less coursework than a chemistry major.
At 2 p.m. on a Tuesday, some students might be found testing photosynthetic rates in Druckenmiller Hall, while others might be debating government policy in Hubbard. The world needs our generation to provide leaders in both of these fields. What makes one superior over the other?
The difficulty of the departments is completely subjective; the perceived difficulty of each area will shift with each student you ask. Some people find that essays are a breeze, but struggle to complete their MCSR requirement. Likewise, a number of my friends in STEM find writing an “A” paper to be nearly impossible—these are often the same people who claim that the humanities are easy.
STEM elitism and the easy major myth undermine the importance of the humanities and social sciences. Claiming that certain subjects are useless or unemployable is not just elitist, it’s incorrect. Our world is indeed moving into an era where STEM majors have a plethora of options. However, I implore you to imagine a future without writers, performers, politicians, linguists, historians, psychologists, humanitarians, et cetera. Life as we know it would cease to exist. Frankly, I’m not so sure that is a world in which I would want to live.

On (the) edge: The dangerous miseducation of Americans through Eurocentric curricula

If your secondary school curriculum resembled mine, then you might have learned to equate success with whiteness. It’s likely that this thought never consciously crossed your mind—but it was there. I prefer to think that school boards do not purposefully instill this notion in their students. However, by solely focusing on the accomplishments and contributions of Europeans and their descendants, teachers perpetuate the notion that members of the white race are the greatest contributors and thus, more naturally inclined to succeed.
In light of recent racially charged tragedies, an attack on the education system might seem petty. It is not. See, the aforementioned subconscious thought that Eurocentric curricula fosters can lead individuals to later harbor views that are much more sinister. When these resulting ideas are voiced, the speaker is quickly labeled racist, ignorant or bigoted. Many will assume the individual is uneducated. In many cases, “uneducated” is a mislabel. I would argue that a lack of education is not the reason behind your Uncle Joe’s racist rants. On the contrary, the education that he did receive might be the true catalyst.
The inflammatory statements made by people like Uncle Joe prompt those around them to respond by attacking only their words. This knee-jerk reaction is dangerous. By reacting this way, one fails to detect and destroy the flawed foundation upon which Uncle Joe bases his ideas. The root cause of his prejudice should be the prime target of those hoping to change him. If we continue to chop away only at the ideas that stem from the root, genuine change will remain a fantasy.
This idea directly applies to modern racial discourse. Consider those who attempt to justify the shooting of unarmed black Americans. Some members of the Black Lives Matter movement are perplexed by those defending the police; I am not. As a woman of African descent, these views certainly haunt me, but I am not even slightly confused by their mindset. Why? Because there is a pattern. Though the explanations always vary, the underlying sentiment remains the same.Regardless of whether the black victim was involved in criminal activity, “thug” is a justifier’s most beloved noun choice. Evidence of drug use becomes reason to denounce the victim’s entire character. To them, resistance, running or cursing suddenly become crimes that are punishable by death.
These are the arguments used by those who attempt to rationalize these tragedies. This mindset is not simply the result of a lack of education. These warped justifications expose the potential—or lack thereof—that the speaker feels the victim possessed. To these people, the dead black man is guilty because he must be guilty. For many of these defenders, these deaths are not that tragic because these black people were not really going to contribute much, anyway. The media is quick to post an incriminating or unattractive photographs of the victim alongside a smiling, clean-cut photo of the officer. As stated, there is a pattern. The sentiment remains the same.Again, this sentiment does not result from a lack of education. Prejudiced views are not inborn. They are taught. Thus, racism is not the mantra of the uneducated, but of the mis-educated. Though many Americans are aware that this mindset has led to the devaluation of the black life, many fail to recognize the connection between this devaluation and the Eurocentric nature of our nation’s classrooms. By ignoring this connection, we are continuing to plant ideas about racial categories—and the inherent value of each—in the minds of our youth.
This failure can affect how children of all backgrounds view race, but can be especially detrimental to the way in which students of color view themselves. Though many minority parents take extra steps to supplement their child’s knowledge of their culture and history, some parents do not have the time, will or awareness to do so. While some of these children are not affected by this lapse in education many, sadly, are. These are the students who move into adulthood consciously or subconsciously believing that their potential is naturally lower than that of their white peers.
If unfamiliar with these ideas, one might swiftly cry “race bait” and denounce the entire concept. Luckily, a multitude of social and psychological studies have focused on the effects of internalized racism. Most of these studies have specifically focused on the black community. Though some have used these studies to spark discussion on internalized racism, the root of this issue is rarely questioned. Though many experiences result in the devaluation of the self, it is especially horrifying that this poison might first be prescribed in the classroom.
The change I’m calling for is quite small. If teachers can spend time discussing Alexander Graham Bell’s telephone, then they can also mention that America’s first clock was created by Benjamin Banneker—a black man. If we can take the time to study Ancient Greece and Rome, why can’t we also study Ancient African and Asian communities? Civilization first arose in the Eastern hemisphere—our textbooks do not reflect that. There is more to non-white countries than European colonialism—the curricula of many schools suggest otherwise. The histories and contributions of people of color belong in the classroom alongside those of their white counterparts.
We cannot simultaneously support a classroom narrative that quietly upholds racial inequality and expect to somehow evolve into a magical post-racial society. If we wish to dismantle racist ideology from its core, we must first understand where that core lies. Simply studying the surface accomplishes nothing.

On (the) edge

Conversation surrounding Flint’s water crisis is dangerously stunted

This piece represents the opinion of the author:

Adira Polite

Columnist

January 28, 2016

It was almost too easy to choose this week’s column subject. This column focuses on an issue that has weighed heavily on my mind since it first appeared on my radar. Furthermore, since returning to campus, multiple people have asked if I planned to cover this topic. Upon texting my mother for topic suggestions, she replied with one word. “Flint.”

Flint. As many know, this Michigan city is in a state of crisis— a preventable, unnerving crisis. The seed was planted in 2011, when Flint was declared to be in a financial state of emergency, prompting the state to assume budgetary control. Michigan Governor Rick Synder then appointed an emergency financial manager who was tasked with cutting Flint’s budget. A proposal was made to switch Flint’s water source from the relatively costly Lake Huron to the cheaper, riskier Flint River.

Preliminary studies revealed that Flint River’s water could only be considered safe if it underwent treatment with an anti-corrosion agent. This agent would prevent the river water from eroding the pipes—a mishap that could result in discolored, possibly noxious water. After learning that this treatment would cost the state a mere one hundred dollars per day, the results of the study were ignored. In 2014, Flint’s water supply was switched.

In May of that year, Flint’s residents began to complain about the quality of their new water. It was brown. It was rancid. It made them sick. The complaints were ignored. In January of 2015, Detroit’s Water and Sewage Department offered to reconnect Flint to its original water supply. Despite the complaints from Flint residents, the emergency financial manager rejected the Department’s offer.

In February, the Environmental Protection Agency detected high levels of lead in the water, caused by the absence of the anti-corrosion agent. In September, one pediatrician began to publicly discuss multiple findings of lead poisoning —the effects of which are often irreversible. Though the water supply was finally switched back to Lake Huron in October of that year—over five months after the residents’ complaints began —the damage was done. To this day, the water pipes are corroded and the supply remains toxic.

As of now, all of Flint’s approximately 100,000 residents are considered at risk for heavy metal poisoning. Additionally, as of January 13 of this year, there have been 87 reported cases of Legonnaires’ disease, 10 of which resulted in death. Last week, over a year and a half since his citizens first reported this problem, the Governor of Michigan finally offered a weak promise: “I’m sorry, and I will fix it.”

Pause. Now, let’s backtrack and discuss demographics. Flint is roughly fifty-six percent Black. About forty-two percent of its population live below the poverty line. Most of you probably think that you know where I’m going with this. You don’t.

The lack of response and, thus, prolonged suffering of Flint’s residents, in conjuction with the city’s demographics, have led many to label this crisis an example of blatant racism. Many are questioning whether this would have ever occurred in a town whose residents are predominately white. Do I think that the residents of Greenwich, Connecticut would ever be made to drink brown water and ignored for a year and a half? Of course not. But it is not as simple as it may seem.

When I initially read about the crisis, I immediately thought “wow, racism” and ignorantly left it at that. Luckily, Professor Brian Purnell recently pushed me to delve a bit deeper. On Thursday, he asked our class to question the American notion that race is causative. In essence, this is the idea behind the assumption that a White man who killed a Black man did so out of hate for black people.

In a society often divided by race, it is both easy and understandable to think this way. Personally, the continuous killing of unarmed Black citizens makes it nearly impossible for me to avoid subconsciously assuming that white-on-black violence begins and ends with race and race alone. However, this knee-jerk reaction can cause one to ignore the bigger —and often, more insidious—question.

It is easy to say that the residents of Flint were ignored because many of them are Black. It takes more time and effort to evaluate the situation’s context and arrive at a more complex answer. Does the Flint water crisis have to do with race? Absolutely. But skin color alone is not the only answer. Race in America is and always has been irrevocably tied to class and power. Concerning Flint, that is the problem.

A majority of the residents of Flint are Black. Many are impoverished. Most are disempowered. I’m certainly no expert but I would surmise that their voices went unheard because of a centuries-old system—a system that should be dissected and critiqued. This cannot happen when one fails to recognize the simplicity of their thinking.

In order for our generation to exact lasting change, we must first understand issues to their fullest extent. It is imperative that we include context in our discussions. When discussing race-related issues, do not stop at race alone. Search for connections between race and other institutions. Venture to understand the reasons behind those connections. Dare to delve deeper.

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