So they ask their white supporters to leave:
Prominent Black Lives Matter activist Johnetta Elzie seemingly confirmed those with Caucasian skin were asked to leave the area, tweeting that the group had created a “black only healing space for the students to share, decompress, be vulnerable & real.”…
Mark Kim, another reporter for KOMU who was at the scene, told TheBlaze that he spoke with some people around the area and confirmed white individuals had formed a separate group upstairs.
“White allies are upstairs in their own breakout group,” he said in a tweet.
The news comes after the Concerned Student 1950 group had blasted the “white media” earlier this week for not “respecting black spaces.”
The obvious response is to comment on the irony of it all. But this is nothing new; many people have noticed for decades that integrated schools have produced a fairly large amount of racial self-segregation.
The earlier goals of the civil rights movement of my youth (1950s) involved a color-blind society in terms of equal opportunity and equality under the law. But there have long been separatist movements, going back to the 19th century (for an overview of the history see this; later, Malcolm X was the most popularly known advocate during the 60s).
The separatism of the black students at Mizzou can be seen in that context, or as a temporary touchy-feely effort to “share, decompress, be vulnerable & real” away from those prying white eyes, even of supporters.
[NOTE I: Johnetta Elzie, the prominent BlackLivesMatter activist quoted in the article, doesn’t appear to be a Mizzou student (there’s a January interview with Elzie here). And yet she seems to be some sort of leader at the university, allowed to organize and direct the student groups in this manner. She’s not the only Ferguson activist heavily involved, either; see this.
Little did Michael Brown know he’d become such an inspiration when he attacked police officer Darren Wilson.]
[NOTE II: You might wonder why I’ve written so very many posts about the University of Missouri. What’s happening there, and at Yale, has struck a nerve that’s been vibrating in me for decades, even back when I was a graduate student myself: demands by students that an entire university and all its administrators, faculty, and students, cater to their needs and their feelings, and never let them know a moment of grief or fear or even mild upset. I encountered the attitude for the first time in the early 90s; for all I know, it was established even before that, but that was my first personal experience of it as a witness to it among the undergraduates I saw. At the time, the topic wasn’t racial; it was what a particular student perceived as sexual harassment. But it was an ominous development then, and it’s an ominous development now, whatever the topic.
I wrote an earlier post on that graduate school experience of mine; here’s an excerpt:
I experienced this personally (as an observer, not a target) in the early 90s when I returned to school for a Master’s degree. The trend was already quite highly developed and deeply entrenched at the time, much to my surprise, even though it had escaped my notice till I returned to campus life.
But I discovered it when the young women in an undergraduate class I was required to take for my Master’s—a class which, being in the social sciences, consisted almost entirely of women—were virtually all in favor of a definition of actionably offensive speech that went something like this: “speech that offends any person in the subjective sense, rather than speech that is in fact objectively offensive.” In vain I stood up in front of the 100-or-so students, most of them around twenty years younger than I, to ask what the limits of this might be, to suggest that it was wrong to allow the most sensitive among us to dictate what was unacceptable, and to speak up for free speech in general. I was met with uncomprehending stares and impatient dismissal, a fossil in my own time.
I realized that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Not one person appeared to agree with me, or if they did they weren’t saying so publicly or privately. And the professor, a woman just a couple of years younger than I, was clearly on their side. I have never forgotten it, and although at the time I didn’t put it in a political left/right context (that came later), I realized it was a frightening development and it made me feel very, very uneasy and quite alone.
Things have only got worse, with the advent of the internet, social media, and twenty-five more years of student marination in leftist memes.
In my research on Mizzou, the other day I came across some videos of the student movement there. I plan to write about them in the future; viewing them told me something about the emotional component of the fight going on there. I don’t know if I’ll get around to it, but that’s my plan.]