From the issue dated June 11, 2004
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Black Professors: On the Track but Out of the Loop
When I was in my first year as a tenure-track faculty member, a friend of mine summed up a concern that many of us newly minted African-American professors had. She said: "I am not so sure that I am willing to become the person I must become in order to gain tenure." Her remark drew a round of "uh-huhs" and "I know what you means" from the audience. My friend and I were speaking at a symposium on African-American faculty members at predominantly white institutions, held at a national academic conference. Members of the audience -- primarily African-American academics -- obviously felt that the stories my friend went on to tell were their stories, too. I had had the same reaction during an earlier conversation with my friend, during which we had decided that our feelings about and perceptions of tenure were not just the conclusions of two paranoid faculty members. Since then, many of my friends and colleagues, particularly other African-Americans at predominantly white institutions, have shared experiences with me that were not just parallel to my own, but virtually identical. Disciplines and fields notwithstanding, we had all gone through similar triumphs and struggles, victories and defeats. Five themes were almost universal. Proving yourself over and over. Many African-American faculty members see themselves caught in a never-ending cycle of having to prove their competence as intellectuals. The literature on the experiences of minority professors shows that many believe that they must work twice as hard as other faculty members to get half as far. All professors have to gain the confidence of their students, by developing effective syllabi, valuing diverse styles of learning, communicating information, and so forth. Yet African-American faculty members sometimes feel that students never fully accept them as skilled in their respective disciplines. One professor told me he felt as if his students were always questioning his credentials. Providing the entertainment. At the beginning of one semester, a student dropped by my office to ask what textbooks and supplementary materials she needed to purchase for my course. After I answered her questions, she said, "I am very excited about taking this course with you -- I hear that you are a very good teacher. But I expect you to make this fun!" I had listened to my nonminority colleagues in nearby offices as they engaged in similar conversations with students. Their discussions centered on issues of academic expectations and rigor. Not once had I heard their students talk about the enjoyability of courses. It was as if they could satisfy students by providing knowledge, while for me the bar was raised. Not only was I to convey academic content, but I also had to entertain students. One of my colleagues echoed my feeling: "I don't have the luxury of coming to class with just a book and a smile, like some of my nonminority colleagues. I have to 'flash and dash' them with media and PowerPoint, lest they view me as lazy and incompetent." Another said ruefully, "It would be nice to sit back and just enjoy teaching without all of the extra pressures of trying to be an entertainer, but I guess this is not my lot." Being kept out of the loop. No faculty member can be successful without establishing professional networks -- that is, being included in the higher-education loop. Unfortunately for many African-American faculty members, gaining access to the loop is difficult, if not impossible. New professors typically get into the loop through their advisers, mentors, and more-established colleagues. But many African-American faculty members have no one to help them make connections. Many of us have felt excluded from networks since graduate school, when professors chose nonminority students to write papers or make presentations with them, ignoring minority students with equally high grades. Playing two roles. Members of minority groups often have to engage in what sociolinguists call "code switching," moving back and forth between identities to succeed in two disparate worlds. Sometimes the switch has to take place very quickly, in as short a time as it takes to walk from your car to your office. Actions, behavior, language, persona all change as you turn off the rhythm-and-blues music and turn on the academic mind-set. Many African-American faculty members form support networks with people outside of higher education: family and friends, folks living in the 'hood, members of their church, and acquaintances from the beauty shop or barbershop. With those people, one professor reported, he could jettison the burden of having to prove his academic prowess and enjoy the comforts of "just being black." Feeling unwelcome. Many women, members of cultural and ethnic minority groups, and many gay and lesbian people have found academe an inhospitable environment. African-Americans at predominantly white institutions, in particular, often stop hoping for anything more than toleration. Few universities offer a supportive infrastructure. Although some institutions have offices of minority affairs, those are typically designed to meet the needs of students; faculty members must fend for themselves. Many minority faculty members feel that they cannot change the system. The most they can do is to simply maintain their identities in the face of a climate so cold that one professor referred to it as "subzero." What should academe learn from the experiences of African-American professors? A crucial point is that institutions must seek overarching solutions. For example, the problem of students' questioning professors' credentials is obviously linked to the problem of students' demanding that professors entertain as well as teach them. Equally, the chilly climate in academe is a primary reason for the lack of relationships that help minority faculty members get into the loop. The African-American faculty members whom I have talked with about these issues clearly love their students and delight in teaching. Some also expressed a deep-seated passion for research. They are seeking from academe the same things that nonminority professors seek: opportunity, respect, and trust. Yet their knowledge and skills often go unappreciated and unused. Colleges and universities should establish retreats on the experience of the minority professor. Even a half-day retreat -- one that includes panel discussions of racism and perceptions that minority faculty members are too interested in their own concerns to be involved in broader campus issues -- would promote greater cooperation between minority and white professors. In addition, institutions should create opportunities for minority professors to interact with groups of both minority and nonminority students, perhaps through a program of informal lunch meetings on topics related to the academic interests of the professors. Colleges must make it possible for professors to be both themselves and respected members of academe. No one should have to sacrifice his or her identity to gain tenure. Fred A. Bonner II is an associate professor of adult and higher education at the University of Texas at San Antonio. http://chronicle.com Section: The Chronicle Review Volume 50, Issue 40, Page B11 |
Copyright © 2004 by The Chronicle of Higher Education