Doom ‘n’ Gloom

How the Lack of Racial Diversity Among UMN Professors Impacts Students BY TRENT ANDERSEN Diversity Beyond Tokenism

During my college career, I have attended two community colleges and two state universities—messy, I know. What is even messier is that during that time I have only had four professors of color. It has been critically important to my personal, professional, and intellectual development to have professors who share my marginal identities. These professors include voices in their syllabi that may stray from the canon, enriching the learning experiences for everyone in the classroom, regardless of their race..

Being able to discuss the nuances of race at a predominantly white institution has been invaluable. Particularly given that discussions on the topic of race are often wrought with microaggressions and pointblank racist statements, intended and unintended alike. John Coleman, dean of the College of Liberal Arts, states that “to truly engage with the community, CLA must be a reflection of that community,” but it currently isn’t. In order for Dean Coleman’s vision to be effectively realized, the decision makers on this campus must grapple with the reality we are faced with and consciously recruit and include diverse faculty members in important, systemic decision-making processes.

The University’s student body is 67% white, and 76.5% of professors are white. There must be a system-wide push to not only recruit faculty of color but to allow for their full participation in university systems. This feels especially timely and critical in light of the Board of Regents voting 10-1 against President Kaler’s proposal to rename buildings on campus titled after racist figures. The University has a moral obligation to ensure students and faculty of color are given the resources necessary to succeed beyond their college careers, rather than simply serving as token representatives during discussions on race.

100 seconds to midnight and other grievances BY KYLIE HEIDER Doom ‘n’ Gloom

Every now and then, we are affronted with truths that are, to put it plainly, hard to reconcile with. Such things are often passing reminders of the collective distraughtness of our times—things that will fundamentally unsettle or disturb us but just as quickly be resigned to obscurity.

I usually encounter these truths on my Twitter news feed. For example, last May, I watched a man burn himself alive on the White House lawn on my feed. He died shortly after as a result of his injuries. It would seem such an act would carry some weight and would not so easily be chalked up to be the coincidental result of an altered mind, but the incident was soon forgotten.

These random events, evoking a chilling sense of existential apathy, are fascinating to me. Most recently, on my feed, I saw that the Doomsday Clock had been moved to “100 seconds to midnight.” “We have a doomsday clock?” I thought, “What is that?” According to the website of the Bulletin for Atomic Scientists, the Doomsday Clock is “a metaphor . . . of the perils we must address if we are to survive on the planet.” When we overcome the fact that the phrase “100 seconds to midnight” evokes cheesy allusions to apocalyptic 80’s movies and move past the strangeness of an object designed to measure time until the apocalypse, there’s a grim and unconsolable reality behind the clock’s time.

Everyday, the faltering impossibility of our future stares us down. Though we may look away from its harsh gaze, it is always there—right in front of us—looming. When they moved the hands of their fateful clock, the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists were not informing the public of something unknown. They, like many others, were reminding the world not to look away. 4