Saturday was the anniversary of the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision which made abortion legal in the United States. When I was an undergraduate at Gonzaga University, every year a group of pro-life students would place a cluster of small white crosses on one of our campus lawns to represent the number of abortions that have taken place since then. I was reminded of this as my Twitter timeline started to fill with posts regarding pro-choice blogging to mark the anniversary of this landmark decision. I remembered how much I tried as an undergraduate to help demonstrate that not only were there pro-choice voices at the university, but that there were many pro-choice Catholic voices both at the university and across the United States. Many of the students on our own campuses are just as active and passionate about controversial political issues, and perhaps as a student you even were yourself!
In my Master's program we were discussing whether or not we share our views on politics in the office around our students. As someone who was a student activist and spoke out often on controversial issues, I'm more inclined to share with those around me how I feel, but a classmate of mine disagreed. To her, it was important in a professional role to maintain a perception of neutrality, that taking sides would silence students who disagreed with you. Since you enjoy a position of authority and power in relation to the students with whom you work, you should strive to make sure all students feel safe and comfortable when working with you.
The two major professional roles I have had (which sandwich my time in my Master's program) have been in areas which engage controversial, political topics constantly. Before graduate school I ran an LGBT Resource Center at my alma mater, and since graduation I have worked in Diversity and Multicultural Affairs at a Seattle-area community college. I have worked with students from a wide diversity of backgrounds whose identities cross politics on a regular basis. For many of these students, their ability to attend college has been the result of political deliberation and legislation, which means for me, it is much harder to remain silent on how I feel about issues that directly impact my own students.
One example of this is immigration reform, particularly the DREAM Act. For those of you unfamiliar with this piece of legislation, its purpose is to create a path toward residency and citizenship for undocumented youth who were brought to this country at a very young age. In Washington State, undocumented students are legally allowed to attend state colleges and universities, and can claim state residency under specific guidelines to pay in-state tuition rates. We work with many of these students (whether they disclose to us or not), and the DREAM Act is a very important issue for them. As a fervent supporter of the DREAM Act myself, and a believer that involvement in political issues is an important piece of civic engagement (an important educational outcome from college), plus knowing that my support for this legislation shows my commitment to these students' success, I am more than happy to be open about my beliefs on the issue with my students.
How about when political issues impact our own identities? Recently, there was a proposed referendum in Washington State to vote on our expanded domestic partnership law that granted the same rights under state law to lesbian and gay couples as married heterosexual couples. Not only have I worked in LGBTQ student affairs before, I currently am an advisor to our Queer and Allies Club and am one of very few openly gay staff members at the college. I obviously cared deeply about the issue, and I engaged in many passionate conversations with students who wanted to know what they could do to support passing Referendum 71 (which would uphold the law). Again, I was more than happy to share my feelings on the issue, and as an openly gay role model felt it important to affirming many of our LGBTQ students for me to take a stance on an issue important to our community.
Now, there are obviously limitations to discussing politics with students. I work at a state-funded institution, and there are ethical guidelines around "promoting" political issues during the work day. As a state employee, I can not engage in activity on state time that is intended to impact a ballot issue one way or another. I knew I could not advocate voting on the referendum one way or another, but I could help students learn about the issue and find ways to express their voices on campus. The same applies to discussing the DREAM Act--while I could not do activist work on the issue while in my professional capacity, I can help students who want to learn about the issue find information, and I can educate my colleagues on the experiences of undocumented students achieving higher education. I also believe sharing my views on a matter is a completely different issue than trying to influence how my students think about said matter.
My classmate had an important point though--how can we make sure that other voices are not stifled if we are open about our political beliefs? How do we ensure that students who disagree with us know that their views are valued on campus and their beliefs validated? I would hope that someone who feels differently than I do knows that just because I, as a college staff member, may feel one way on an issue, does not mean I do not believe in their freedom to pursue higher education and their right to express their views. But I know there is a power dynamic at play when students hold views that differ from those with authority.
As a former student activist, I remember not being satisfied with the idea that a plurality of perspectives were all good and valid. I wanted everyone to agree with me! As I have matured (I hope) and grown into a student affairs professional, though, and as I have reflected back on my interactions with other students, I've realized that I need to do the self-work to allow other views to be true and valid. I need to be able to understand that a perspective different than mine is not wrong, just different--and that the viewpoint holder's experiences, beliefs, and values all played a role in shaping that perspective just as mine did for me. Some of my self-work in cultural competence, like understanding my background and discovering my lens, has made a tremendous impact on my ability to tolerate--even appreciate--the tension of uncertainty, of holding various and often contradictory viewpoints as equally valid. Yet at the same time that same work has helped me hold stronger to my own values and beliefs.
The most important skill a student affairs practitioner would need to utilize to discuss politics with students is empathic listening when students express their views. We need to remember the education taking place is the student's process, and that our focus is on the student's growth as a result of the conversation. It's okay to share our perspective to either validate a student's opinion or to help a student examine her or his views more deeply. It's not okay to use our opinions on topics to shut other students down or to establish "acceptable" points of view in our offices.
One model/theory that I think should become a more integral part of student affairs work is Patricia King and Karen Kitchener's Model of Reflective Judgment (King & Kitchener, 1994). Their model looks at cognitive development in college and how young adults learn determine what it means "to know" something. Reflective judgment deals with ill-structured problems--often the root of contemporary political issues--that have no clear solution and the ways we develop our beliefs on how to address those problems. If we plan to discuss the important issues of our times with our students, we need to make sure we're giving them the tools to truly analyze the complexity and synthesize their opinions on the matter. This model is a great tool for structuring these learning opportunities.
How do you feel about this issue? Are you open about your political beliefs with your students? Why or why not?
Reference: King, P.M. & Kitchener, K.S. (1994). Developing reflective judgment. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers.
