The massacre and kidnappings in Israel and the ongoing war against Palestinians living in Gaza have revealed deep fault lines within the MIT community. We use the term fault lines because the tensions on the campus have resulted in administrative actions that have cast one segment of our community as people from which the broader community needs to be protected. For those who study Critical Race Theory and Critical Feminist Theory, we are not surprised that the students we are being “protected” from are all students of color and predominantly female. We are, however, dismayed.

On December 1, 2015, the Black Graduate Student Association (BGSA) and the Black Student Union (BSU) presented a series of recommendations to MIT’s President and Academic Council “. . . advocating for greater transparency and accountability in the Institute’s handling of race-related issues.”  Five years later, acknowledging the progress that has been made, the BSU and BGSA were compelled once again to write a letter “. . . calling on MIT leadership to be proactive in making MIT a place where Black people and POC can exist safely and thrive.” After these and other efforts by students of color, it is reasonable to expect that before relying on existing policy and regulation (or making up policies in haste, as things are unfolding), there would be a pause for reflection, an inquiry to understand: Why are these protests happening? Why are the people who are being disciplined all people of color? Amid such ongoing trauma, do we have the appropriate resources and capability to support the students? How do we engage with the fundamental question the students are asking: What does complicity look like in a time of genocide?

Instead of responding to the needs of all students, a different approach was taken. As illustrated by three articles submitted to the FNL, the impact on the students marked for disciplinary action is profound. Each article offers insight into what is happening to the students who are protesting MIT’s unwillingness to address the question of complicity in the face of Palestinian genocide.

• The first article addresses the vote at the last Institute faculty meeting to move to an executive session for the conversation on Free Speech. The reason? A faculty member felt unsafe with the students – namely representatives of CAA – present. This, of course, presupposes that CAA students and others were there to cause problems. This is a common tactic to silence black and brown voices.

• The next article covers a sequence of events that calls into question the notion that CAA flagrantly defied Institute rules when it held an emergency protest on February 12th. The facts presented in the story are up for interpretation. For some, the facts will validate the administration’s decisions. For others, the facts indicate unfair treatment of CAA. These two interpretations suggest the decision to suspend CAA was based on more than just the facts of the case.

• Finally, personal testimony from a student whose family was caught in Rafah during the bombing provides a broader construct for understanding the need for protest. As mentioned in a previous editorial, “In the face of a global crisis, one important purpose of protests is to give individuals an opportunity to join together to express a deep moral concern and influence action. Moral integrity demands of us that we express our moral sentiments.” Why can’t we see protest as a reasonable response in the face of such shock and grief?

These extraordinary times call for MIT to embrace the challenge of supporting these students of color through this defining moment in their lives. It is a pivotal moment for testing our commitment to the Institute values. It is a moment for testing our moral courage.

Editorial Subcommittee

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