On a policy, through a story
Well, some people were angry.
But, I don’t think it would be fair to everyone to continue without telling the story.
Some time ago, some people invited a guest speaker to Aquinas College. Upon securing his presentation date, the world continued spinning and No one gave it a second thought.
As Saturn’s winter again conceded to Jupiter, the date grew near. Suddenly signs grew up from the ground like weeds in a prim English garden proclaiming the visitor, “John Corvino: Gay Moralist.”
Some said, this could be exciting.
A gay moralist giving a presentation on a Catholic campus, that could be taking a step, could be “reaching outside our boundaries,” could be nothing to worry about. I mean, should the right hand know what the left hand is doing?
Some questioned.
The days passed approaching the day that the gay moralist would step onto campus, and the same “No one,” which didn’t give it a second thought to begin with, refused to think a second time about the thought of a second thought.
Suddenly, people known as The College decided that this was an issue. And, the event was postponed.
Then it was cancelled, and well, some people were angry.
To be fair, though, the gay moralist did come to Aquinas to meet and greet The College. I heard it was pleasant.
Also, he spoke in Grand Rapids.
Some were angrier than others and everyone thought that it was an uncomfortable experience.
In the moments before the school year ended, The College made an effort to ensure that this calamity would never be repeated.
The College formed an Ad Hoc Committee of students, faculty, staff and administrators to address the problem of the, then infamous, “policy gap.” The rag-tag ad hoc group said that the policy would be “more about establishing clear channels of communication and review and less about coming up with a formal list of prohibitions.”
Notwithstanding the dedication of the ad hoc committee, the task proved too ambitious to complete in such little time before the end of the term.
Then there was silence, and it wasn’t a silence you could hear. To hear this silence you had to listen closely and remember how loud things were. It continued through the summer and into the fall term.
On the day that No one heard the silence anymore, the day in October, the 280th day of the year in the Gregorian calendar (in leap years), the ad hoc committee delivered. The day will be remembered for the promulgation of the Communis Aquino, the document that reminded people to talk to each other about important things.
The policy reaffirms its goal not to be “a list of ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts,’” and also assures people that most campus events shouldn’t need any such “formal review process.” The policy gives the responsibility of recognizing the relative controversiality of an event to the planner.
Once recognized, such a controversy should be reported to the respective Dean/Director. The Dean/Director can send the issue to the Provost, the Provost to the President, and finally, if the President cannot work out an agreement with the event planners, then the President can call for an ad hoc advisory committee for a recommendation.
To grossly oversimplify the worth or goal of the new Campus Events policy, it simply says, If it seems like your event will bother people, then you might have a responsibility to tell someone about it. Was it this easy all along?
At least we can continue our goal to be inclusive and open, but before worrying about being an inclusive campus that values openness by bringing all sorts of events to campus, perhaps we should practice our inclusivity and openness on each other, by talking.
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