“I heard some law students are getting suspended, stripped.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to get my name out there, I don’t want my future at risk.”
I remembered hearing this dinnertime conversation last October with some of my friends in Okenshields in response to the rising protests on campus. This conversation later expanded into one of discretion: don’t speak your mind, or you might be one of those students that end up in the news. Over the last few weeks, four pro-palestine protestors have been banned from our campus for three years, with many more suspended. This follows the case of Momodou Taal, the graduate student who was on the verge of deportation for participating in a protest at a recent career fair. There has been an increasing crackdown on pro-Palestine protests and rhetoric on this campus since last year, with administrators enforcing a series of high-profile suspensions. From a lay perspective, the University attitude seems extreme. The perceived attempt to control students’ expression creates a sense of eeriness over campus. It pushes forth the message, “you’ll be next,” if a student decides to speak out or show support. This goes back to the dinner table conversation from a year ago. But, now concerns raised by my friends then have become much more serious, with the University amping up its security and surveillance measures.
The actual policies surrounding protesting are jarring. Students cannot make a certain amount of noise or counterprotest in certain environments. The administration argues that the protest must follow “time, place and manner” restrictions. Even though time, place, and manner restrictions are normal regulations on free speech, the tightening control goes beyond what the administration says. The policy calls for approved usage of megaphones, approved locations and approved times. If a protest does not follow these stringent “protest guidelines,” then it is deemed inappropriate and is discouraged.
Students that decide to protest are often targeted and are encouraged by organizers to cover their faces and not bring any item that makes them identifiable. This results from mass suspensions — no one wants to get an email from administration saying their educational career is in jeopardy. Even then, masking is used by administration and opponents as a further justification for punishment. Despite changes made to the Interim Expression Policy, the administration continues to use “time, place, and manner” to justify mass suspensions. This means that speech is ultimately penalized by the degree to which it causes other students discomfort, with little consideration for the actual circumstances. Cornell is actively using fear tactics and its power as a university to silence students. This strategy is damaging because it creates a culture of suppression, where students who may otherwise protest decide to stay home out of consideration for their futures.
Through their policies, Cornell is demonstrating that they do not value civil disobedience. This is dangerous, because civil disobedience represents a way for people to engage others in a conversation that students believe is not going to be heard through conventional channels, which tend to privilege “money, rigid rules, prejudice, and power.” Thus, college level disobedience often feels like the only way for students to get their voices heard. When universities suppress that power of expression, they rob students of a platform to stand up for their beliefs. This creates a deadlock between administration and students, polarizing both sides and creating hostility on campus. Civil disobedience is historically an important part of society and democracy. When Cornell discourages civil disobedience on campus, a place of intellectual freedom, it defies the core values our country was built upon. Now, Cornell has become a place where if you decide to speak up, you have the potential to lose your education and residency.
As the first American university, Cornell has failed on its mission to uphold the importance of civil disobedience by betraying its history and its own mission statements. Cornell has long been a hub of protests, from the 1969 Willard Straight Takeover, to the Shantytown encampment against Apartheid, to the Day Hall takeover in 1993. Civil disobedience has been a driver of important change and a promoter of difficult conversations. For instance, the Center for Africana Studies was established after an armed takeover by students. It seems that Cornell is forgetting its roots as a site of student voices, and the restrictions on freedom of expression seem to have become more intense. When Cornell actively chooses to suppress student expression, it also suppresses change. Instead of relying on biases, Cornell should make an effort to focus on a culture of openness. This includes allowing all sorts of discourse on campus, whether it may be pro-Palestine or pro-Israel. The University administration must let go of silencing one group in favor of another, and only then will healthy discourse commence between the divided groups. This approach embodies the freedom of speech and gives a platform for all to be heard.
Asfi Tias is a second year student in the College of Arts and Sciences. Her column Thoughts After Midnight focuses on students’ academic and social experiences on campus with hot takes and political commentary. She can be reached at [email protected].
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