Affirmative action is our generation's '60s activism

Laurie Mayk She Says So

That decade is often idolized and idealized by today's youth, who long for the unity and passion the protesters and flower children seemed to exude. Perhaps '90s teen-agers and 20-somethings are enamored by the decade because the youth of that time played a staring role in most of the prominent events. They were key players in the establishment of the Black Panthers, the Democratic National Convention of 1968, the Vietnam War, Woodstock and lively political campaigns that ended both in victory and tragedy for their candidates.

And today we complain of voter apathy and a general disinterest in politics and social movement. There is no cause around which to rally, we say, and we simply don't have the opportunity to make the same kind of impression our parents made. But we're wrong.

The struggle happening right in our own backyard may be the defining issue of our college-age generation. Within a year, we may know the fate of affirmative action in higher education, and by extension in government and industry.

The issue hasn't been a quiet one on the University's Ann Arbor campus; supporters and opponents have shouted at each other in the Diag and in panel discussions, and debates have brought some students to tears, raised passions in others and even made some afraid to speak their mind. What began as a special interest of those following the progress of affirmative action challenges in California and Texas is slowly finding its way into theme semesters, course syllabi, student government and campus and local media.

There were jokes when the activism began on this campus about the familiar faces of the protesters and organizers, who seemed to have logged quite a few hours on the picket lines of a variety of causes. The campus chapter of the College Republicans and a conservative state representative were the only symbols of the opposition. Most of the time, students passed the picket lines and read quotes in newspapers with the apathy we so despise about ourselves.

But in the year and a half since two lawsuits challenging the use of affirmative action in the admissions practices of the University's Law School and College of Literature, Science and the Arts were filed, the movement and the campus have changed.

Affirmative action and its fate at the University has become an emotional issue on campus. No longer do students have to be publicly vocal about the issue to privately express concerns or opinions. We are beginning to realize that we are all affected in some way, and that our backgrounds and experiences play a major role in determining what side of the table we support.

Diversity on campus has been in the spotlight. It makes us proud, and it scares us. It's a lot easier to get along when we don't talk about issues that tug at our emotions and values.

The movement itself - or perhaps I should say the movement of each side - has expanded as well. The language and the practice of policies in California and Texas have changed. The kind of attention factions are getting has changed.

Academics and activists thousands of miles apart are cooperating and organizing days of action modeled after '60s teach-ins and demonstrations. Will our children talk about Michigan's connection to Jessica Curtin and BAMN the way we talk about Tom Hayden and Students for a Democratic Society? Maybe.

But most important, we are recognizing that the lawsuits, protests and admissions policies that we have been reading and talking about for the past two years have the potential to change the way Americans think and act about race, education and hiring practices in the United States. If one or both of the University of Michigan lawsuits reach the Supreme Court, which seems a definite possibility, the protesters, state lawmakers and professors giving speeches in our backyard will make it into history books.

Many people on both sides of the issue believe the time has come for the Court to take a definitive stand on affirmative action. As times, attitudes and workforces have changed, the definition and purpose of the practice has been muddied. Regardless of whether the Court affirms the need for such policies and sets legal guidelines for the 21st Century or declares the practice unnecessary and unconstitutional, the late 1990s will be remembered as a pivotal time on college campuses.

So if you haven't been paying attention to all the shouting going on in our backyard, start. You just might want to tell your children you were here when it all happened.

- Laurie Mayk can be reached over

e-mail at ljmayk@umich.edu.

02-12-99