Link turn---we reconstruct the academy!

We fight because the current system is antithetical to what we believe academia can be and what it claims for itself. We fight for ourselves, our colleagues, students, and families. We fight in hope that others will know they are not alone and they, too, can learn how to fight the system so we can stop fighting ourselves and each other. We fight to save the future not only of academia but society itself. Our victories and losses have meaning beyond the immediate sphere of academia. As challenging as the last point may sound, dismantling corrupt systems within academia will lead to a more just society, just as failing to do so will increase injustice in society. We know we are not alone in this fight. There is a movement toward a new kind of academy, even as there are forces aligning to entrench the capitalist-patriarchal academic system. Not every revolution must involve one person being supported by disposable rebel pilots to destroy a Death Star. We are not asking to be saved or claiming to be saviors but are acting to save ourselves and each other a little bit at a time. No one needs to be a hero—or, more likely, a martyr. Rather, we envision a revolution in which our defiance and strength will mirror the warriors that came before us and inspire all those that will follow to establish tangible change. This is a rhizomatic/grassroots revolution not about replacing white men with women of color at the head of the same failing structure but about decentralizing and democratizing power while redefining what “power” means. Hence, the first acts of resistance against the powers of oppression involve extending kindness, justice, and empathy to those in need.

Contributors to this volume who choose to remain in the academy are constructing an academy in which they can be happy and thrive. Those who choose to leave also continue to be dedicated to the fight. Ultimately, institutions or leaders dedicated to social justice must also be prepared to allow for their own end; to do otherwise is to allow self-preservation to pervert power.2 Allowing for one’s own power to come to an end or experience radical change is the hallmark of true justice, as social justice transformations such as the end of slavery or apartheid revealed. What the change looks like will vary based on specific institutional histories, local community variations, and other factors; therefore, rather than dictate one model for liberation of academia, we offer instead a variety of processes and principles that might help us collectively continually create multiple academias informed by local concerns and assets.

To make this change, first we have to confront the reality of the academic system as it is: not, as described in chapter 9, the way it has been misleadingly labeled, a “rational world” of reward based on merit but as an abusive hierarchy. Starting in graduate school and extending through tenure, many academics face a gauntlet of hazing. This may manifest in fighting against one another for time to speak, for the favor of “star” professors or administrators, and for coveted positions; hazing methods including social ostracization, humiliation, and other forms of bullying.3 And this oppression is often exacerbated because of the culture wars dictating that those who research marginalized discourses or communities face the devaluation of their work against the hard center of academic hegemonies: being women, people of color, and queer or studying these subject areas positions these scholars more precariously (Aryan & Guzman, 2010; Trotman & Greene, 2013). As Huynh and O’Brien reported (see chapters 6 and 13), the power dynamics between grad students and their professors are reproduced in the relationships between junior (untenured) and senior (tenured) faculty, while too often adjunct faculty are simply ignored and neither mentored nor consulted, unless for the benefit of a power play (Charlier & Williams, 2011; Wallin, 2004). All of this is done under the guise of preparing students and junior faculty for “the harsh reality” of academia.

But what is left out of this narrative is the simple fact that we are academia. It is not outside us; we—academics—are inside it, even when we are marginalized within it, just as Galen Erso, the scientist in Rogue One, is simultaneously marginalized and inside the Empire. We therefore have the power to shift academia’s institutionalized culture, even if our power to do so is precarious, and even if, like Galen Erso, we may need our daughters to build on the work we have started. We all gain that power by critiquing the models and methods we have been given, by asking about the differences between policies and practices; by questioning why some ways of teaching, researching, and serving are valued above others; and by re-creating assessment rubrics with our colleagues that give us all real opportunities for success. These steps require building trust instead of suspicion and fear among colleagues. It is important we approach one another with a commitment to truth and reconciliation over the many ways that we academics hurt each other; giving lip service to “collegiality” is not enough. By modeling for our students and communities the kind of respect and empathy upon which social justice is built, we make a commitment to take collective action to change this dysfunctional, destructive system.