Northern Michigan University and Racism in the Literary Canon

Trying to change the literary canon and being in an alternative discourse is dangerous grounds on a university campus. During the two years I attended Northern Michigan University, I learned three things about predominantly white colleges: #1 Diversity is a topic that is embraced within a minority culture but looked upon as nervous energy among the majority population; #2 Whiteness is transparent among the majority population; and #3 Multiculturalism must be supported by the concentration groups as well as the majority group in order to be implemented successfully.

Diversity and the Majority Population

There were no African-American literature or history courses at Northern Michigan University, so when I learned that the concentration for American Literature III would include the Harlem Renaissance, I jumped into the course. Two months later and the only black person we'd talked about in the class was an uneducated slave named Jim in Mark Twain's book Huckleberry Finn, for which white students got to read the word "nigger" repeatedly aloud in class. I was the only black student in the class and after seeing the word in the book so many times, I continuously volunteered to read aloud because my ears almost bled from hearing the racial slur amongst white students. I can't stand saying the word, so I definitely didn't want to hear white people say it. After the end of this book, I finally approached my professor and asked her when we were going to talk about black writers. Her response was: "I throw that in at the end," as if I'd asked her what happened to the instant gravy for the steak and potato meal. I was so offended by her comment that I went to the Head of the English Department. He was a new chairman, not quite familiar with my professor, and willing to listen. By the end of that conversation, I was optimistic about the class changing for the better.

A couple of days later I received an e-mail from my professor stating that I had "betrayed" her by going above her head to the Department Head. She told me she was entitled to teach the course however she saw fit and it was her "prerogative" to use the authors she wanted to. I e-mailed her back stating that I was equally entitled to pay for a course described in the handbook as teaching about Harlem Renaissance writers. I told her that her antics were highly unprofessional and that I'd followed proper protocol. I went to the Department Head again and asked him if it was possible to change the description in the handbook for American Literature III so other students would not be manipulated into taking a course that professors have the "prerogative" to change. He refused with the reasoning that the books were already printed for the year. I don't know what happened between the time I saw him first and this time, but his attitude changed from concerned to lackadaisical and we ended the meeting with me storming out of the room saying I had wasted my time.

I wrote an article in the Diversity Student Services (an organization dedicated to multiculturalism) newsletter, DSSPatch, and warned students against taking this course. I wrote a letter to the President of the University in regards to my experiences, helped with a petition against the cable company who wouldn't show BET (Black Entertainment Television), and wrote a letter to the school newspaper in regards to their lack of diversity in campus topics. I started a one-woman battle that I refused to lose. Although other members of DSS (Diversity Student Services) tried to get other black students involved in my goals with the school, these faculty members were met with indifference from the students. The same black peers that I'd partied with, studied with, and hung out with were content with their alternate discourse and their own world. They didn't care that whiteness prevailed the campus and their logic was that the Marquette, Michigan was a predominantly white town so whiteness was expected.

Although Chicago is said to be the most segregated city in the United States, I'd gone to a diverse high school, Morgan Park, and a predominantly black grammar school, Fort Dearborn. I'd never been slapped in the face by whiteness and had never considered the thought of it for seventeen years. It never occurred to me that whiteness could play a part in why my high school teacher consistently made jokes about black students pronouncing the word "ask" as "ax." She'd say "Did it hurt?" and laugh, instead of correcting them on their mistake. Because I grew up in a dominant environment of "bilingual" people who could speak Standard English as well as African American English (AAE), skipping back and forth had never been a problem for me. I often corrected my nephews like my paternal grandmother corrected me, when it came to using Standard English.

I'd never paid attention to British Literature being a requirement from high school. It didn't occur to me that I was reading a diverse canon throughout grammar and high school. But when I got to NMU and had the two meetings with the Department Head, I realized how fortunate I had been to be able to know how valuable diversity is for me. I had a straight "A" in that course until those two meetings. I also only had three papers left before the semester ended. I started getting "C"s when I'd usually get "B"s and she failed me on my final exam. The exam question was about the lack of diversity in the canon and was an opinion piece. I had never received an "F" on an English paper in my entire life. There were few comments to justify my grade besides saying I didn't follow instructions (for which I did). She didn't even give me my last paper in person. She sent another colleague downstairs on the elevator before I could come up. I opened the plain, white envelope and I was furious.

I ended up transferring to an H.B.C.U., Lincoln University in Missouri, after meeting with the University President. By that time, I didn't care whether she would keep her promise and talk to the English faculty to follow the handbook and try to get a teacher in for a course on African American English. I learned at NMU that although my peers of minority culture embraced a diverse canon and their alternate discourse intermingled within some of those readings, it made plenty of white people nervous. In the essay that my professor failed me on, I pointed out that the reason the canon is not diverse is because it points out too many flaws in history. Talking about how badly black people were treated is common in African American writings of the Harlem Renaissance and to add that as regular reading would be like sitting in the living room for a family get-together talking about how Daddy raped Daughter. No one wants to point out their flaws and to talk about them continuously, whether it's about them or their close ancestors, can make some ashamed.

After I left, I received a letter for possible expulsion and disciplinary action for a scantron mix-up that was later taken care of. It didn't really matter whether the mix-up was handled though, because I had already transferred to a different college. But I had already left on such a bad note, so I didn't want to compromise my reputation as well. But even after that was straightened out, I found out from the DSS faculty that the English department viewed me as a real threat to their area because I'd caused such a ruckus with the Department Head and the President. They planned to kick me out before things could possibly change, and when they found out I was gone, they were all too elated. My presence, for the first time ever, was a true threat to a school when I had always been one of the students teachers liked most. Nervous energy turned a bad situation into a war.

Transparency on Whiteness

The second lesson I learned was how transparent whiteness was at Northern Michigan University. In that same American Literature course, my professor immediately changed her syllabus after the second meeting I had with the Department Head. She asked the class if they thought the canon should be more diverse and one student responded with "If black people couldn't read or write during that time, why should we change the canon? That's changing history." I explained to the class that by not including other cultures because they didn't speak Standard English was a show of bigotry. I agree with Patrick L. Courts that regardless of a student's background, all people should be given the chance to be heard. If black writers were passed over because they were different and didn't write the way the main literary canon author did does not make them any worse or any better. I don't necessarily agree with Teresa M. Redd and Karen Schuster Webb in A Teacher's Introduction to African American English: What a Writing Teacher Should Know where professors would be forced to learn a new "language" or vernacular. Regardless of what is spoken at home, there are plenty of reading and spelling lessons given in school to correct such careless writing mistakes. There are also plenty of black writers who followed Standard English procedures in addition to African American English, like Gwendolyn Brooks, Langston Hughes, Countee Cullen, and Maya Angelou. So while black writers may be looked over for using their own vernacular, they sometimes use both. Some of the black students mentioned in Redd and Webb's book may improve their writing skills if given the opportunity to read about people like them.

The student who spoke out against diversifying the canon assumed that black writers were not included because they could not write or read, but had never read writers like Toni Morrison whose writing is about as complex as Shakespeare. He assumed that incorporating these people in the same exact time period during history would change history. How is it possible to change something that really did happen at the same time? He saw diversity as a threat, but never considered that whiteness had already changed the literary canon to deject talented, black authors. I know he is not the only person who feels this way, because if he was, the literary canon would not be so segregated.

Embracing Blackness

The part that disturbed me the most about NMU was not the bigotry, the racism, the lack of a diverse canon, the ignorance of the student newspaper staff's take on multicultural events, or even my straight "A" grade being averaged out as a "C+" for American Literature III. What bothered me the most was the indignant behavior of some of my family and most of my NMU black peers. Before I left NMU, my brother joked about me turning into a popular activist, Sister Souljah. He told me "What did you expect? You went to an all-white school. You can't walk around changing things." My mother told me I should just shut up and do my work. She'd given me the nickname Ms. Malcolm X and was disappointed that I was going to an H.B.C.U. because she said they were party schools. Her lack of faith in the educational system of historically black colleges and total disregard for my honor roll grades in grammar school, good grades in high school, and consistently good grades at NMU even during my academic battles was surprising. Lincoln University and Northern Michigan University had the same amount of parties. I was crying and debating every single day at NMU, but my mother didn't understand why I couldn't suck it up. I love both my mother and brother to death, but they showed me a firsthand view of how numb black people are to change.
My father, an alumni member of Kentucky State University, rooted for me transferring to a different college. He understood my pain. Because my brother didn't go to college and my mother went to a local, junior college, I assumed that lack of experience may have led them to their unsympathetic views.

But I went from being slapped in the face to punched in the face when watching my black peers at NMU, who had experienced much of what I was experiencing, completely blow off my academic struggle. One guy told me I was "too militant and just need a man." While I was trying to expand the literary canon, correct the handbook, diversify the cable and newspaper criteria, and show professors that their students have a voice, this guy was giving me love advice. Many of the students that I had conversed with hated the school as much as I did, but feared their grades being threatened. Affirmative Action, although a positive way to level the educational playing field, does strange things to minorities. With that scholarship funding and the opportunity to grow, it made many of my fellow black students scared to speak up. Native American students joined together and rallied against hockey teams like the Blackhawks and the Chiefs for disrespecting such high-ranking cultural names. Latin American students convinced the school to start a Latin American Women Writers course and continuously celebrated common holidays like Cinco De Mayo with their peers. Asian American students were taking part in meetings to help diversify the school. But my fellow brothers and sisters sat by like subordinates just wanting to get by. I watched them shuck and jive past positions for diversity. I watched them transfer silently. I watched them complain to each other and joke about how messed up the university was to them. But the DSS mentor said I was the only one who went to the actual corporate members to try to change things. I was embarrassed and amazed that I wasn't fighting with many of my black peers for a multicultural society. I was fighting alone. So I gave up and left.

Throughout history, whenever black people felt that their culture was being threatened, they found a way to lash out (usually through music.) First gospel, then Blues, then Jazz, and now Hip-Hop. My black peers were content living in their alternative discourse (of which I was a member as well) of Hip-Hop where they could lash out at the educational/political/social system. But using this way of rebellion was not beneficial to getting to the great mass of people who don't follow the Hip-Hop culture. The idea of trying to make our culture accessible and able to be assimilated into the mainstream canon was unheard of. While reading about whiteness within the handouts of this course, reading Comfort's essay, and reading West's take on critical multiculturalism, I can't help but wonder what the point of speaking out against a racist society does if the people being mistreated won't speak directly to the ones hindering them. I love the Harlem Renaissance because the whole point of it was to show black culture at its best in music, literature, history, and fashion. Hip-Hop is a recycled version of the Harlem Renaissance. Although the Harlem Renaissance did not carry over into the white population nearly as much as Hip-Hop does, it's reasonable to believe that Hip-Hop is becoming more acceptable to different cultures. I was a threat to NMU. The AAE, liberal views, and economics involved in Hip-Hop are a threat to society relying on whiteness to survive. But I fear that just like the Harlem Renaissance came and went while many black folks still didn't want to speak up and promote their culture in the Fine Arts, Hip-Hop may fall into the same ignored movement. Just as whiteness is a privilege that is embraced in our everyday education, I'm still standing on the idea that the alternative discourse Hip-Hop should be too. This music era has crept into written advertisements, commercials, product sales, style of dress, and politics. If it continues, it may carry over into the educational system as well, not just in the form of African American English but in the Literary Canon as a whole. But before Hip-Hop can be intermingled within the Literary Canon, black writers from the Harlem Renaissance will probably have to be enveloped in the literature and the alternative discourse known as Hip-Hop will have to speak to the masses as well.

Conclusion

The same essay that my professor failed me on was later published in a New York magazine called Citizens in America. The owner and editor of the magazine is a white man. I am more proud that he is a white man than he ever was. For a white man to publish a five-page essay on how segregated the literary canon is (and the secrets it may unfold to many secluded people like the NMU student discussed previously) tells me that there is hope. I contacted my professor to thank her for dropping my grade down two letters. Not only did she become my motivation for pushing diversity, but that was my first paycheck for a written piece in my magazine. Her spitefulness helped my career. The more she embraced her whiteness and rejected anything different, the more I embraced my blackness. For every struggle for diversity in the literary canon I come in contact with, I am pleased. With magazines like Citizens in America and this Multicultural Rhetorics course, I'm starting to feel like I'm not fighting alone. When I see the alternative discourse known as Hip-Hop being paid attention to by a mainstream audience, I see the power in that. With more people speaking up, the literary canon as well as the educational system can change for the better.