MAY 29, 2020
Dear colleagues:
Warmest greetings. This morning, I write to you with a heavy heart. On the most basic human level, the last few days have been very troublesome for me and perhaps for you as well.
I learned, at a very early age, while growing up in the rural South, about unnecessary pain and suffering. I watched many members in my community experience undeserved slights, neglect, and mistreatment simply because of their skin color. Of course, many were able to rise about the social milieu of the South, but it was not without emotional and psychological costs.
As a way to protect my genius and prevent the threats of existential nihilism, my family overshadowed me with love, care, encouragement, and the necessary supports to not be weakened by the bigotry that had persisted from the very beginning of time. The teachings, stories, and narratives that I heard on the front porch from my great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents still resonate today. In these stories, you heard joy, happiness, pride, sadness, horrors, tragedies, and redemption – true Netflix content. More importantly, you were expected to attentively listen and to pinpoint what lessons to carry with you in your life journey.
You should not get into diversity, equity, and inclusion work unless you really believe that your efforts can truly make a difference in the world. In fact, you should not do anything unless you believe your efforts are the tipping point. Thus, when you let yourself dream of a better world, you must be prepared for a range of experiences and emotions, even those that you catch you off guard like a police officer who kneels on a man's throat until he dies, like a man watching birds who gets law enforcement called on him for nothing, or like a man who is chased to his death for the crime of jogging in his own neighborhood.
It is exhausting and painful to see the cruelty of the world directed at people who look like me, our relatives, our friends, our co-workers, and/or our neighbors. And for it to come at this time—when we are more alone than ever and frightened by a pandemic bringing death to our doorsteps—makes it even more unsettling.
It is clear that some of our law enforcement officers need greater training and responsiveness. Without critical examination, true reconciliation, and equal justice, false accusations will continue to be made about people of color and other vulnerable populations. Such groups will continue to be falsely accused, over-surveillanced, and even wrongfully killed. Add the names Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and Ahmaud Arbery to the dreadful and endless roll call of individuals that we have witnessed tragically killed.
I know this is not a very good pep talk, but the truth is the healing is in the pain. We have been given a special opportunity—the power to mend our broken hearts and end our disillusionment through the work we do. With this in mind, I believe in the power of education. We have an immense opportunity to transform the lives of our students and colleagues as we put our stamp on the next generation of leaders. The next generation will take on these issues that have bedeviled us and build on the work that previous generations have done.
The reality is we have, in the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a chance to “bend the arc” of the moral universe toward justice. So, once you have processed your pain, I ask you to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart. Our work is, too, important to wait and needed now more than ever.
Thank you for all you do to advance diversity, equity, and inclusion at our beloved The Ohio State University. Equally as important, thank you for working to make our world a better place.
Go Bucks!
Respectfully,
James L. Moore, III
Vice Provost for Diversity and Inclusion
Chief Diversity Officer