Letters
The Barnard Effect I read Kira Goldenberg’s article, “The Barnard Effect” [Winter 2020], with great interest and pride. As a Barnard anthropology major (1973) and Columbia anthropology Ph.D. (1980), I’m happy to claim my lineage and the work of Boas, Mead, Benedict, and other pioneers to debunk myths about race and immigrants. Anthropology’s work in the 1920s continues to be relevant and critical in the 2020s. As the owner of an independent bookstore for the past 25 years (The BookMark in Neptune Beach, Florida), I’m enjoying selling Charles King’s Gods of the Upper Air. Thanks, Kira, for your great article. And always: thanks, Barnard! —Rona (Mazer) Brinlee ’73 As a writer and an admirer of Zora Neale Hurston, I was delighted to find her featured in “The Barnard Effect.” Curious about the source and context of the pull-out quotation (“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you”), I Googled and got multiple hits with the words attributed not to Zora Neale Hurston but to Maya Angelou! Thanks to my research skills (developed and honed at Barnard, of course!), I finally found the original quote. It is indeed Zora’s, from her 1942 autobiography, Dust Tracks on a Road, in the section where she wrote about her writing process. Zora’s exact wording has some subtle differences that any writer will appreciate: “There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.” Earlier in the volume, Zora recorded some fascinating comments about her experience at Barnard — but I leave it to interested alums to read her book for themselves. —Bonnie Tocher Clause ’64 The Last Word I felt deeply understood when I read Eve-Lynn Siegel Gardner’s article, 4
“Reclaiming ‘Opinionated Woman’” [Winter 2020]. I serve on a local board. In December, I voted against a program advanced by our board chair, Louise, whom I greatly admire. After the meeting had been adjourned, I heard Louise lament that I had shared multiple opinions before the vote. I paused to breathe. I approached her and said, “While I affirm that you feel upset because I rejected the program, please respect that I value the chance to contribute to this board.” Louise apologized. “I appreciate that you said that,” she said, looking impressed. “No colleague has ever told me when I mistreated her.” We looked at each other and were free, somehow. I thought about the first place I had seen someone stand up against a person trying to silence her. The place was Barnard. “Thanks,” I said, not just to Louise. —Leah Metcalf ’14 Inclusion? I was incredulous when I read that Barnard had appointed a vice president of “diversity, equity, and inclusion” [“Forward Momentum,” Winter 2020]. For years, Barnard has been working toward its stated goal of an inclusive student body, and the makeup of the incoming class certainly reflects success in reaching that goal. What is the VP going to do all day? Her hiring points to what I find so laughable about Barnard: It has reliably pledged allegiance to all the clichés that have circulated around academia during the past 40 years — “diversity, equity, and inclusion” being one of the latest. Notice the use of the odd contemporary locution “identify as women of color” in the breakdown of the incoming class. Seriously, could someone with white skin and blue eyes “identify” as a woman of color and be accepted by Barnard as such? [In another article,] Professor Jordan-Young’s research
