California Dreamin' [part X]
Continued from part IX. To read this story from the beginning, go here.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Room 338, Westin Hall
(student residence, USJ campus)
midnight
It's been another long day.
Today, I had my formal interview with the entire faculty of the School of Business Communications at the University of San Jose. The entire faculty is nine professors, and eight of them were there: The Director, who threw me to the lions yesterday; the professor named Clive, whose lions they were; Candace Barker, who looks like a tiny bird. A canary, actually. Doris Stickler, who it's quite clear is not in favour of my appointment; Alex Farber, the only member of the faculty who's under the age of 50; a cool professor named Tom who teaches in the journalism program and who is also the staff advisor for the student newspaper; a woman named Christine who teaches public relations, and who didn't ask me any questions.
And then there was the Diversity Guy.
He was a professor of broadcast journalism; a black man of about 55. He'd been sitting there, smiling, and I'd been getting a good vibe from him, right up until he asked me, "What is your experience with diversity?"
I didn't know how to answer that question. What I was thinking was, I'm Canadian, for fuck's sake. My country didn't do that to you.
I honestly didn't know what to say. It's not that I was trying to figure out what I should say, in the sense of what's the "right" answer, it's that I was baffled.
In Canada, everyone's family came from somewhere else, whether it was Scotland 200 years ago or Sri Lanka 2 years ago. I live in a city of three million people, where every person you see on the street is a different size, shape, and colour and speaks a different language from the next one. What I wanted to say was:
"What kind of diversity, specifically, are you referring to? Race, religion, language, or skin colour? Most of my closest friends are Jewish; of the others one is Indian and regularly wears a sari, one is from Mexico, one is Filipino, one is from Newfoundland, though we never hold that against him, and one is Iraqi. I've taught students from just about every country on the planet, including Afganistan, and I taught in China for six months. I speak English, German, and enough French to understand the commentary at a Canadiens game. Or shall I tell you about the diversity in my family? My grandparents, the peasants, who came here not speaking a word of English? My cousins who are native Indian? My three (that I know of) gay relatives? Or would you like to know how many married-in black people there are in my extended family? You'd have to give me a minute to count."
But I didn't.
I was reminded that every time I visit the United States I feel like Mr. Peabody's sent me back to the 1950s.
To be continued in part XI, after Postmodern Sass finishes reading The Da Vinci Code.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Room 338, Westin Hall
(student residence, USJ campus)
midnight
It's been another long day.
Today, I had my formal interview with the entire faculty of the School of Business Communications at the University of San Jose. The entire faculty is nine professors, and eight of them were there: The Director, who threw me to the lions yesterday; the professor named Clive, whose lions they were; Candace Barker, who looks like a tiny bird. A canary, actually. Doris Stickler, who it's quite clear is not in favour of my appointment; Alex Farber, the only member of the faculty who's under the age of 50; a cool professor named Tom who teaches in the journalism program and who is also the staff advisor for the student newspaper; a woman named Christine who teaches public relations, and who didn't ask me any questions.
And then there was the Diversity Guy.
He was a professor of broadcast journalism; a black man of about 55. He'd been sitting there, smiling, and I'd been getting a good vibe from him, right up until he asked me, "What is your experience with diversity?"
I didn't know how to answer that question. What I was thinking was, I'm Canadian, for fuck's sake. My country didn't do that to you.
I honestly didn't know what to say. It's not that I was trying to figure out what I should say, in the sense of what's the "right" answer, it's that I was baffled.
In Canada, everyone's family came from somewhere else, whether it was Scotland 200 years ago or Sri Lanka 2 years ago. I live in a city of three million people, where every person you see on the street is a different size, shape, and colour and speaks a different language from the next one. What I wanted to say was:
"What kind of diversity, specifically, are you referring to? Race, religion, language, or skin colour? Most of my closest friends are Jewish; of the others one is Indian and regularly wears a sari, one is from Mexico, one is Filipino, one is from Newfoundland, though we never hold that against him, and one is Iraqi. I've taught students from just about every country on the planet, including Afganistan, and I taught in China for six months. I speak English, German, and enough French to understand the commentary at a Canadiens game. Or shall I tell you about the diversity in my family? My grandparents, the peasants, who came here not speaking a word of English? My cousins who are native Indian? My three (that I know of) gay relatives? Or would you like to know how many married-in black people there are in my extended family? You'd have to give me a minute to count."
But I didn't.
I was reminded that every time I visit the United States I feel like Mr. Peabody's sent me back to the 1950s.
To be continued in part XI, after Postmodern Sass finishes reading The Da Vinci Code.
6 Comments:
Weird. The mind actually boggled. What did you end up saying?
doesn't seem weird at all to me, diversity is in fact an academic discipline these days and i doubt he had any interest in your personal life. i don't see how the question of diversity has anything to with slavery. and if you think no canadian ever owned slaves you'd be very wrong.
I agree with cynthia on this one. Why is it so odd to be asked about diversity?
The fact that you can count up how many friends and family members you have from various backgrounds and nations (which, by the way, many Americans can do, too) doesn't really speak to how you handle diversity, especially in an academic setting.
I don't think this question is at all inappropriate. In fact, I find your reaction to it the more puzzling of the two.
Diversity is an academic discipline? OK, now I really don't understand the question. I found it an odd question because in my experience, the fact that university campuses have a diverse student and faculty population is as unremarkable as that they have a library. It's as though he had asked me, "What's your experience with books?" I honestly didn't know how to respond to his question. What's your understanding of what he was getting at? What should I have said?
"Most of my closest friends are Jewish..."
No link to "Let My People Go?"
*shaking head*
most americans will never "get" canada, and most canadians will never "get" america. diversity included.
and to that, i say, thank fucking god.
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