Letter from an Alumna
President Dudley,
I am a woman, and I am not a Southerner. I am writing this letter because I want voices like mine to be heard in an open discussion of what Washington and Lee symbolizes to its students and alumni.
My family endured generations of oppression and systematic extermination in Ottoman Turkey until they emigrated to the United States – as refugees. My maternal great uncle, at the age of seven, survived a death march to Syria with his mother. On this march the Ottoman soldiers gave him a large stick; he was ordered to push dead Armenian bodies that had washed ashore from the Euphrates back into the River. My paternal great-grandmother witnessed her husband dragged away to be killed. Subsequently, her one-year-old daughter was taken from her and murdered. Most Armenian (or “infidel”) children were loaded onto boats and dumped into the Black Sea to drown to death. I suppose this method of mass killing spared bullets. As a mother of three children, I understand why my greatgrandmother never recovered; she was emotionally haunted by their deaths her entire life. This is to say that I am no stranger to racism or prejudice. I feel the reverberations of my family’s persecution in my soul, though I do not despair. Instead, I am permanently humbled that their unimaginable horror enabled me to live freely in this country.
Have you ever contemplated what an elite education means to a refugee family such as mine? My uncle and I both graduated from Washington & Lee – a beautiful, supportive refuge worlds away from blood-soaked death marches! What a triumph for my ancestors! Our Washington and Lee education symbolizes victory over what came before. It means being not welcomed as a victim, but being welcomed as a victor over one’s past.
I am woefully concerned about the rapid path Washington and Lee’s administration and faculty are taking to address a single, macrocosmic problem within American culture. The University’s language swiftly changed from “standing on the shoulders of giants” to now whitewashing their names. Generals Washington and Lee were not without fault or sin, and their roles in a segregated society is undeniable. But I believe that their contributions to the nation and the University, respectively, remain worthy of merit.
Disturbingly, I have read firsthand reports from current students, who are hesitant about the removal of Robert E. Lee’s name, that they are afraid to vocalize their opinions on campus because any refutation is considered a racist act. Are these students also feeling ostracized by faculty members? Have you asked them? Is campus culture nurturing free speech and independent thought? One of my favorite writers and college professors, Camille Paglia (who, if you care, identifies as a socialist), has written courageously about this issue in her essay entitled, Free Speech and the Modern Campus:
Here we come to one of the most pernicious aspects of identity politics as it reshaped the American university – the confusion of teaching with social work. The issue of improper advocacy in the classroom has never been adequately addressed by the profession. Teaching and research must strive to remain objective and detached. The teacher as an individual citizen may and should have strong political convictions and activities outside the classroom, but in the classroom, he or she should never take ideological positions without at the same time frankly acknowledging them as opinion to the students and emphasizing that all students are completely free to hold and express their own opinions[.]
The University’s commission on institutional history, or whatever verbose name you applied to it, was the nail in the coffin for any fair assessment of Robert E. Lee’s role at our alma mater. It was your trick to slow-walk everyone into a renaming of the school, but we aren’t walking slowly now, are we. You vastly underestimated the intellectual aptitude of your alumni (your mistake!), because many of us see it for what it was: a thinly veiled committee predicated upon the conclusion it was engineered to draw. In the past few days, the Trustees have established their own version of this committee. Sounds redundant.
Furthermore, if the faculty who have petitioned the University to change its name possess such a visceral reaction to Lee (and Washington), why did they accept a position at Washington and Lee to begin with? I would not agree to work at a place which, to me, represents something that I despise.
My experiences within the old brick walls of Washington and Lee have made my life so much better. I implore current students and alumni alike to embrace a sense of gratitude, as well as victory, in receiving such an education. Let’s concentrate on what’s being learned inside the classroom and within this wonderful community, because that is precisely what a Washington and Lee diploma symbolizes.
Until the University shifts its focus back to education and away from erasing names, my husband and I will refrain from financial giving, and we will encourage our friends to make the same choice.
Respectfully,
Victoria Guroian Sanders ‘04