A call to action

The editorial in last Tuesday’s Argus protested that “the student body has shown an alarming amount of apathy, and the administration has been reluctant to transform [the racist and homophobic graffiti in Clark into] a call for public action.” My sense is that plenty of people are calling for public action. I’m calling for public action. You’re calling for public action. I bet even Bennet’s on deck with us. The problem isn’t that no one here wants action; it’s that nobody knows exactly what action we are calling for. Maybe if we named this elusive public action more clearly, some of our peers who seem apathetic would be inspired to act. Any ideas?

While calling for action, keep in mind that public, publicized action is not the only sort of action that makes a difference. When I discover that extremely disturbing graffiti was written in my bathroom by a fellow student, I do feel called to action. I am reminded and inspired to fight in my daily life for a better reality by treating others with unconditional respect, by being even more empathetic, and by making a continual effort to challenge my own prejudices.

It’s okay to be frustrated by the fact that not enough people are frustrated. I also think it’s even more powerful for each of us to work on being as respectful and compassionate as we possibly can be, in our own interactions—because it’s right, and because it’s contagious. Healthy outrage and compassion are not mutually exclusive; maybe the former can even fuel our determination to live the latter. All I’m saying is, notice where you focus your energy.

I would love to see dramatic public action. I simply have no new ideas today. If you do, call me (seriously); let’s make it happen. In the meantime, I refuse to feel powerless. If you feel powerless, remember that you are Wesleyan, and that regime change starts at home. If you want to see more respect, focus that surplus frustrated energy on living respect. If you want to see more compassion, be that change—I’ll join you. Human interaction is what it comes down to. So, to playfully risk a laugh and a sigh, I quote Dar Williams ’89: “Go ahead, push your luck. Find out how much love the world can hold.”

Noa Wotton
Clark Hall resident