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Dr. Garrett Felber/Image via University of Mississippi

Up until last week, Dr. Garrett Felber was on track to become a tenured history professor at the University of Mississippi. Dr. Felber studies race and incarceration in the U.S. and is a dedicated advocate for people who are imprisoned. He's also a published author, having written "Those Who Know Don't Say: The Nation of Islam, the Black Freedom Movement and the Carceral State" and co-written "The Portable Malcolm X Reader" with Pulitzer Prize-winning Malcolm X biographer Manning Marable.

In August, Felber was awarded a one-year fellowship at Harvard University's Hutchins Center for African and African American Research and is working there during the 2020-2021 school year. Dr. Noell Wilson, University of Mississippi's history department chair, praised Felber for the award at the time.

"Garrett is an indefatigable researcher and community builder whose knowledge of the carceral state stems not merely from archival digging, but also from his volunteer engagement with prisons as a teacher," Wilson said. "We are thrilled with this award because it both recognizes his national profile in the field of African American history and provides critical space for him to advance two pioneering interpretive projects."

Four months later, Wilson notified Felber of his termination.


In a letter dated December 10, the department chair informed him that his employment with the university would be terminated as of December 31, 2021. Though she cited communication issues between her and Felber in her letter, some believe his termination has more to do with his speaking out about the university kowtowing to racist donors.

Felber has been involved with a project called "Study and Struggle," which he describes as a political education project on mass incarceration and immigrant detention. Wilson rejected a grant for the project in October, saying it was a political instead of historical project and might jeopardize department funding.

"The real issue is that (UM) prioritizes racist donors over all else," Felber tweeted. "So it's not some mythic politics v. history binary, but that this antiracist program threatens racist donor money. And racism is the brand. It's in the name."

A statement from the university's communications office said that the grant refusal "was made after several considerations and in consultation with the relevant campus offices. Dr. Felber did not follow the appropriate process for seeking external funding, a process for which he has been briefed individually by representatives of several administrative offices across campus. Dr. Felber submitted his proposal to a private charitable foundation without the knowledge of his department chair or other officials."

"If he had followed UM's process of engaging with external funders," the statement continued, "his department chair would have had the opportunity to advise him on how best to align his proposal with the Department of History's research, teaching and service mission as articulated in its mission statement. As a public research institution, the university is committed to supporting the work of all faculty, being good stewards of both public and private grants and ensuring that all work on behalf of UM aligns with the mission of our collective schools and units."

However, at a time when anti-racism research, education, and academic projects are under attack—not just by society but by the federal government—it's hard to separate what might be legitimate personnel issues and what might be pressure from funding soruces.

Another UM professor told the Mississippi Free Press: "Feel free to note the increasing levels of paranoia on campus." Professors from around the country have come to Felber's defense, with some even having predicted that his anti-racist academic work would lead to Felber being ousted.





While some scold academia for being intolerant of views that don't align with "liberal" thought, the opposite can be just as true, especially where money is involved. While the University of Mississippi has made some strides in coming to terms with its racist history, the roots of racism run deep.

"I'm just so deeply dismayed by the willingness of faculty and administrators at all levels of the university who acquiesce to the will of these powerful racist, donors," Felber told the Mississippi Free Press in October. "Individually, these people will continue to tell me they respect the work, and appreciate it, and support it, and will until the push from above comes, and then they willfully misrepresent and do things like what my chair did."

"It's all very calculated and it feels—it's not just structurally racist, it's also personally betraying to say that you support these things, then when it actually matters they always acquiesce. It just has a profound effect on all of us doing the work to actually continue to do the stuff that matters and not get mired in calling the university out for its lies continually. The people that that harms the most are the people who benefit from these projects. People who are already excluded from the university through structural racism."

When asked what people can do to support him, Felber has encouraged people to donate to a campaign to buy toiletries for people who are incarcerated in Mississippi.

That's called putting your money where your mouth is. The world—academic and otherwise—could use a whole lot more of that kind of integrity.

"Administration! Come out!" chanted Camila, her voice echoing across the quad outside Brown's University Hall.

Camila was just one of hundreds in a fervent chorus of students, staff, and faculty who walked out of class at Brown University on Nov. 16, 2016, joining a nationwide protest.

Camila, a junior political science major, carried a makeshift sign on a piece of brown cardboard that read, "Yo grito lo que mi familia calla," or "I shout out what my family keeps silent." Together with the gathered crowd, she marched through the crisp autumn air to deliver a list of demands to the university administration.


What did Camila, and the other students around her, want? Among other demands, they wanted a formal declaration that would establish the campus as a sanctuary for undocumented immigrant students.

All photos by Danielle Perelman, used with permission.

Camila took part in the walkout in support of her undocumented peers. But she also participated because she knows new immigration laws could affect her life too.

Camila grew up in Mexico City and has a temporary student visa. Now, at Brown, she's heavily involved in activism and advocacy for marginalized communities. She's especially focused on helping victims of her home country's ongoing drug war. (We're withholding her last name because of the sensitivity of the situation.)

But now, things feel different for her. Donald Trump's election has engendered a new wave of hate and xenophobia across the country, inspired in part by the president-elect's own anti-immigrant stances.

Now Camila says she feels scared to walk home from the library at night. She's afraid of the angry, harassing voices that swarm her every time she logs online. She's worried about what Trump's presidency means for her future, and her friends' futures, especially if the federal government keeps their promise to crack down on immigration.

Brown University isn't the only place where this sanctuary movement has come to a head.

In fact, more than 100 other colleges reportedly held their own walkouts at the same time as this one in cooperation with an immigrant activist organization called Movimiento Cosecha.

By formally declaring itself as a sanctuary, Brown University and other universities like it could protect undocumented students from harsh or unfair targeting by federal authorities. If they lived on a sanctuary campus, undocumented students could continue to pursue their educations with less fear of being turned in for arrest or deportation.

"The university should understand that you cannot study in peace if you're worried about your health or about your legal status in the country, or if you're worried about whether to wear your hijab or not," Camila says.

This kind of sanctuary policy could be meaningful for about 150 people at Brown, including students, faculty, staff, and families who are affiliated with the university in some way.

That's still a fairly small undocumented population in the grand scheme of things, but it'd be a particularly powerful statement to have an Ivy League school with a reputation for academic progress and bright alumni leaders spearheading this kind of movement.

Which brings us to another good question: Why wouldn't the school agree to these measures? Well, sanctuary cities are already reportedly being threatened with a loss of federal funding, and campuses that declare themselves as immigrant sanctuaries might be placing themselves at a similar risk. One spokesperson for Brown has also indicated that some aspects of the sanctuary request would fall outside the school's legal jurisdiction.

This march is just one small part of a bigger movement all over the country to build safe places following Trump's election.

For an immigrant student like Camila, this matters both personally and professionally. While she is fortunate enough to be attending Brown on scholarship with the assistance of a student visa, that paperwork only offers her temporary protection. But a sanctuary title would allow her to chase her ambitious dreams with less fear.

"[I want to be] someone who can connect with marginalized communities but also kind of have the human capital to talk to government people as well, and just creating those bridges," she said.

To do this, she'll need to build that network of connections and secure a work visa to stay in the United States after college. With current rules in place, it'll be hard, but not impossible, to achieve these goals. But she worries that in Trump's America, her ambitions willbe impossible.

"Honestly one of the reasons I came here was just to feel safe," she said, referring to the work she's already done as an advocate against the drug war that has left her targeted in her home country.

"I could go back but it's really hard to find a community. Once I did here, it was the right place, and I want to stay now. And I think it's legitimate."

For her thesis project, Arcadia University senior Katherine Cambareri took pictures of clothes. But while the photos might appear ordinary, they’re anything but.

All the items she photographed were worn by students while they were sexually assaulted.

"Well, What Were You Wearing?" — Cambareri’s senior thesis project — aims to challenge how society can blame survivors of sexual assault by questioning the way they dress, she says.


Here are the items she photographed:

1. A simple women's T-shirt.

All photos by Katherine Cambareri, used with permission.

2. Converse sneakers.

3. A flowered tank top.

4. A standard long-sleeve T-shirt.

5. Sweatpants.

6. A lounge tank top.

7. A heavy winter sweater.

8. Jeans.

9. A casual baggy T-shirt.

10. A flannel.

11. Again, simple and casual jeans.

12. More baggy jeans.

13. Cotton shorts.

14. A simple necklace.

15. And, finally, a modest dress.

The moral of this story? What people wear has nothing to do with sexual assault.

Cambareri says the project was inspired by the book "Missoula: Rape and the Justice System in a College Town"by Jon Krakauer, a moving narrative of sexual assaults at the University of Montana.

“It really opened my eyes to victim blaming,” said Cambareri, “and the questions that survivors of sexual assault are asked [that] protect the perpetrator rather than the victim.”

The ultimate goal of her project? To challenge our beliefs about the connection between "too sexy" clothes and sexual assault: “I want people to take time to look at each photograph and realize that society’s assumptions are not always correct,” Cambareri said.

More

When a beloved professor was denied tenure, these students took action.

One Ivy League university isn't doing well on the subject of diversity.

True
Aspen Institute

In May 2016, Aimee Bahng, an assistant professor at Dartmouth College, was denied tenure — despite unanimous support from her colleagues and glowing recommendations from her students.

Image via Dr. Su Yun Kim, used with permission.


In addition to being beloved on campus, Bahng is also said to be a brilliant teacher with a wide range of expertise. She specializes in Asian-American literature, feminist science and technology studies, and queer theory. But she is perhaps most well-known on campus as a community organizer who brings students of color together.

She helped found — in response to the death of Michael Brown and the failure to indict Darren Wilson — the Ferguson Teaching Collective at Dartmouth and teaches a popular course centered on Black Lives Matter.

Image via Gerry Lauzon/Flickr.

The denial of her tenure — especially considering Dartmouth's stated commitment to make its faculty more diverse — was especially troubling.

"Once we sort of got past the anger, we were kind of shocked," Melissa Padilla, a Mexican student attending Dartmouth, told The Associated Press. "We didn't understand why the college would not take this opportunity to keep a professor of color on campus that is not only providing the academic prestige they want but is also mentoring students of color."

Dartmouth is bound by confidentiality when it comes to discussing the tenure process. But some believe the decision to deny Bahng tenure is due to the advisory committee's inability to evaluate her experimental work and service responsibilities.

Bahng said she would appeal the school's decision. However, she can't officially start the process until she receives an official letter from the school explaining her rejection. Tricky.

Image via Institute for Humanities Research/Vimeo.

The decision struck students as uncalled for and unfair. So they decided to take matters into their own hands.

Students started using the hashtags #Fight4FacultyOfColor and #DontDoDartmouth on social media in order to spotlight the story as much as possible. And the effort is paying off.

The movement has spread. Students from around the country are uniting as one to express their support and are fighting the good fight with Bahng.

This is all the way across the country in USC. Image via Kaitlin Foe, used with permission.

The students also banded together with teachers to start a petition directed at the higher-ups.

They rallied to spread Bahng's story on Change.org and now have over 3,600 signatures supporting the cause. They also gained some powerful words of encouragement from the public.

Screenshot via Change.org.

Students even rallied together to organize a symbolic "funeral," mourning the loss of their departed teachers.

It was a bold move, but it sent a powerful message across campus.

Image via Mariko Whitenack, used with permission.

Whatever the outcome, it's inspiring to see the student community working together to create real change.

We've seen students demand their school take down a symbol of oppression. We've seen students come together to help end sexual violence. And we're seeing students across the country stand up for more diversity among faculty and speak out against what they perceive to be unfairness.

Whatever happens with professor Bahng, one thing is clear — there are many students out there who care deeply about important issues and will continue to fight for what they truly believe is right.

Loudly. Together.