The Red and Black

Issue date: 12/5/08 Section: News

Media Credit: GRAPHIC BY MELANIE MCNEELY [Click to enlarge]

[Click to enlarge]

DOZIER

JANOUSEK

Editor's Note: This is the last in a five-day series exploring the status of women at the University.



When Dawn Bennett-Alexander decided to leave the University of North Florida in 1988 to accept a job in the Terry College of Business, her sister had one question: did Athens, Ga. have paved roads?

Such was the perception for many minorities of the University at the time - that it was rural and lacked diversity. Minorities were so scarce, in fact, then-University President Charles Knapp offered departments incentives to hire more black faculty.

"I don't think it was a secret," Bennett-Alexander said. Word spread that departments could hire more permanent line faculty if they increased diversity, and "departments started scrambling."

When Bennett-Alexander came on staff, there was a certain personal obligation to be there for black students as a role model and support system, she said.

"I kept thinking about Martin Luther King Jr. - if not you, who?"

The University has come far in two decades. Minorities made up 15 percent of faculty and staff in 2007, though only 31 percent of them were female. The trick today is no longer just how to attract a more diverse faculty pool to Athens - it's how to keep them here, too.

For minority women on campus, finding a support system can be difficult. When there are only a handful of faculty members of color in a department, the University faces challenges in the effort to make them feel not alone.

"The piece we have to focus on is retaining [diverse faculty] here," said Melissa Shivers, director of Intercultural Affairs. "Finding your niche in the community [of a college town] can be difficult."

"I am the only African American female on the student affairs leadership team," she said. "I'm it. I am the woman of color. I don't have [another] person to bounce off of around that table."

"For students to see a faculty or staff member of color, [they] can breathe," Shivers said. "For faculty and for students it's important to have a strong faculty and staff of color to be supportive on campus."

Nine colleges have diversity representatives who dedicate at least half their work to recruiting diverse faculty and students.

About 40 representatives from all campus units with a dean or vice president were charged by the provost in January to create a University-wide diversity plan by spring 2009, said Cheryl Dozier, associate provost and chief diversity officer.

This will be the first campus-wide study of diversity and a chance to examine why fewer minority faculty are attracted to the University.

"I think one of the most important aspects that we can offer is a sense of diversity," said Cecilia Herles, assistant director for the Women's Studies Institute. "It's not just female professors but also female professors that are minorities that can really make a difference serving as mentors for undergraduate and graduate students."

The University ranks fifth among the nation's top 125 research universities in the number of tenured and tenure-track black faculty, according to Diverse Issues in Higher Education. But female minority faculty new to campus need support in navigating higher education, a professor said.

"Females really have to work very hard," said Rose Chepyator-Thomson, a kinesiology professor who joined the University in 1996 from Kenya. "No one comes telling you how the system works."

Dozier is planning a program through the Office of Institutional Diversity that will link seasoned faculty and staff with newcomers. Other universities, such as the University of Florida, offer mentoring programs for minority students, but this program will specifically target faculty and staff.

"We are very much committed to working to retain our female minority faculty, and all faculty," Dozier said.

Some issues with retention and recruitment of diverse female faculty lie in core concerns such as child care services, Herles said. "[Lack of child care] doesn't just deter women but men as well from coming to the University," Herles said.

For female minority students and faculty, Dozier said, "No one should feel like they're sitting across campus all alone because they feel they don't know anyone on the other side."

"We're so large, we forget we probably have answers to all our questions if we just reach out beyond our comfort zones."



Finding a Safe Space

Though minorities often are considered marginalized races or ethnicities, the University community is also working to create a culture of acceptance for queer faculty, staff and students.

At first glance, the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Resource Center is like any other department - a few offices sectioned off in Memorial Hall, managed by a small staff. There are bookshelves, club listings tacked to walls, a student worker hunched over a computer and a lounge.

But the center, founded in 2005, is the first of its kind for a public institution in Georgia - a department dedicated to forming a safe, open environment for queer students to seek support on campus.

And it has been a crucial outlet for students to express themselves, said Jennifer Miracle, the center's director.

"It's important to see people who look like you and understand you," said Miracle, who came to the center in August from Central Michigan University. "As an undergrad, it's hard. That's where the benefits are of having an actual center."

But the center, which was visited by more than 5,900 students between July 1, 2007 and June 30 of this year, is more than a place of comfort to hang out with friends.

"The resource center has been instrumental in my coming out and transition," said Natalie Byrns, a male transgender student who identifies as a female. "It created an environment within a small group that allowed me to ... work on what was going on."

A 2002 University report by the Campus Climate Research Group found 74 percent of queer students surveyed said they knew someone verbally harassed because of their sexual orientation, and women were more likely than men to feel unsafe. The report was one of the catalysts to create the resource center, said Michael Shutt, former director of the center.

Byrns said she's been excluded by classmates for her sexuality and gender identity.

"I worked on two or three [class] projects that were intended to be group projects by myself," she said. "No one wanted me in their group because I was the queer girl."

Housing was another hurdle to pass. Housing representatives understood Byrns felt uncomfortable rooming with a male, but when she requested to room with a female, "They said that was too much," she said. "Housing just couldn't deal with it."

As a compromise, she was moved to a suite at Reed Hall with a private bathroom.

"There's still a lot of people who really don't … understand our community," said Miracle, who replaced Shutt when he left to serve as director of LGBT Life and assistant dean of campus life at Emory University.

The University and Emory house the only LGBT centers in the state. There are 174 such centers nationwide that offer paid staff positions, including the University of Florida, the University of Texas and the University of North Carolina.

To supplement the center, more faculty and staff members who feel comfortable being "out" on campus is important to give students extra support, Miracle said.

"We have a lot of queer faculty but quite a few are not out," said Shawna Scott, a senior from Marietta and executive director of Lambda Alliance. There is no state law prohibiting discrimination based on sexuality or gender identity, which can have a chilling effect on queer faculty and staff - despite the University's provision for sexual orientation in its Non-Discrimination and Anti-Harassment policy.

"It's hard because state universities in the South tend to be pretty conservative," said Katy Janousek, a sexual health coordinator for the University Health Center, who identifies as bisexual. "I think people in the queer community are aware of that, and that might make them more cautious. It certainly did for me."

Janousek found support in GLOBES­ - Gay, Lesbian, or Bisexual Employees and Supporters - which works with faculty and stuff to create progressive change on campus.

But queer faculty still do not have the same domestic benefits as their straight colleagues, and the NDAH policy does not yet include gender identity.

Campus allies are important to the center. The three-hour Safe Space training, which educates faculty and staff on queer culture and awareness, is in high demand, but the center does not always have the staff resources to accommodate more than one group per month, Miracle said.

"It takes a lot of education and awareness" to promote inclusion, Miracle said. "We've gotten to a point where we're so careful not to hurt someone's feelings. Building community is a good thing."

Page 1 of 1

Article Tools