Make it Make Sense...

A native Iowan's inside look at the spiraling state of our State.

Introducing ‘Make it Make Sense…’ a recurring column within ‘Of Spanglish and Maximalism’ where, as a native Iowan and former higher-ed DEI professional, I connect the threads on the coordinated efforts to regress our state to an oblivion only the GOP could stomach.

The meeting that ended up being the last straw appeared on our Outlook calendars with no context or description. All we knew was that it was scheduled first thing in the morning, that it was a rare in-person meeting with the top brass, (actually, maybe even the only in-person meeting I can recall with our full “leadership” team) and it was the worst type of meeting; one with absolutely no written agenda.

Actually, scratch that. It was even worse than that. A few days prior our New Boss asked our team to make an agenda that they, the higher ups that is, could respond to. We proceeded to detail every concern and grievance we had for the near future: The wholesale scrubbing of our training descriptions from our webpage (which was done in response to an email asking us “…why we don’t offer a Black Privilege Training, specifically how Black people can be racist to everyone else,”) the cancellation of our Diversity Catalyst Awards. An event that just marked its 25th year and whose last attendance numbers were marred after transphobic gutter troll Matt Walsh was originally counter programmed against it, the cutting of our DEI training offerings, and the hiring of our New Boss, a figurehead replacement with close to zero knowledge pertaining to the job, who our team and numerous campus partners flagged as problematic during the interview process. (Exhibit A: during a presentation, for the position of Director of Inclusive Education mind you, they divulged that they, “just learned about this term last week, I don’t know if you heard about it…BIPOC? Though I’m not sure if Asians are included in there?” Cue the furious scribbling of notes by multiple onlookers in attendance.)

While compiling this agenda a spark of a fear flinted inside me. I knew. That this agenda was futile. That it was an act worthy of Sisyphus. Deep down inside I knew that our team would sit across from these higher ups and the response would be rote answers, feckless platitudes about “not taking things personally” or “needing to be politically neutral” about neutering our LGBTQ Safe Zone trainings.

Before this meeting I stopped before heading into the room. In the hallway leading to our offices is a basket of Iowa branded facemasks and trinkets. I decided to grab a mask. In part because one of my colleagues had a relative recently diagnosed with COVID but also for another reason. I didn’t want to give the higher ups the opportunity to see my full range of emotions. It felt like the mask and my glasses would be the smallest of buffers. Halfway through the meeting I lowered my head. I lost count how many times they repeated that they were “just keeping the status quo” (how!?) and not really changing the crux of our mission (do they even believe that?) With my head down I remember feeling my breath against my mask and seeing the tear drops fall against the inside of my glasses. I thought about the absurdity of a work environment so toxic that I felt the need to grasp at the thinnest of emotional barriers. I thought about the barely disguised farce of it all. It was then and there that I decided to quit. Without anything else lined up. Without a safety net. Imagine how bad it must be that a University employee would do that? My therapist tells me it’s disheartening how many people stay here because the Insurance and Benefits. In that moment I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. With a new resolve I stood up, “That’s it. I’m done. I’m done. And by that I mean I quit,” and I walked out and started gathering my things from the office.

I expect this column to be something like Pandora’s box. I can already imagine the counter narratives to my story. The painting of my character. “Oh he’s a disgruntled worker painting his supervisors in a bad light.” Big woop. Moving on. Business as usual. Only it’s not. This is not normal. To my colleagues still there. To my campus community and one’s like it across the nation. I assure you this is not normal. But more than merely telling you I plan on detailing the ways that it’s not. How this is a coordinated effort to get people like me to end up in meetings like that. To push us out and break our spirits. That is what this column will be. Connecting the dots and telling that story. It will take some time to lay it out and I’ll need to go back a few months (an eternity in today’s fast paced news cycle) to properly detail the coordinated attacks on our campuses and how this is all connected to larger GOP strategies.

But in the mean time I want to ensure people that I am okay. After I quit it felt like a huge weight was lifted. Like I could finally look at myself in the mirror. Things are scary and uncertain for sure. But I will be more than fine. What I urge folks to do is pay attention to what is happening on a human level across our campuses. The DEI professionals that the GOP is targeting are real fucking people that want to make their campus communities better places. Morale is at an all time low. They are hurt and scared and being made to feel guilty for feeling hurt and scared. Stand up for them. Speak out against the injustice that quisling higher ups ensure us is business as usual. No matter how much our society deems it to be, higher education should not be rooted in business, but rather, in the people that push it forward. Listen to them before there’s no one left to push that rock up the hill.

Coming up next time on ‘Make it Make Sense!….“The Curious Case of the Copy-Pasted Legislation”