"Every college administrator knows that 'diversity' is a code for 'at least five percent black faces with a goodly sprinkling of Latinos.' They also know that this is only achievable through quota systems euphemized by artful terminology, chronic double-talk and outright lies. Nor do any of them miss, as black students dutifully erupt in furious protest every second spring over manufactured or trivial instances of 'racism,' that in practice campus 'diversity' means black students are carefully taught that they are eternal victims in their own land."Two months ago the author of this quote, John McWhorter, visited our campus. At a place where various speakers have produced outpourings of opinion, McWhorter came and went almost unnoticed. Indeed, the swift coming and going of the diversity critic was symptomatic of the place of blacks at the margins of campus concerns.except when there is a problem. In the wake of Jimmy Carter, Alan Dershowitz, et. al., a debate on diversity seemed almost irrelevant.

Then came the spring. Like many on this campus, I am appalled by the material in the recent issue of Gravity, the campus humor magazine. I strongly feel that student funds should not be used to subsidize any publication that demeans any member of our community. After a decade and a half at Brandeis, I have an overwhelming sense of djOe vu. The present furor is a sad reminder of how very marginalized black people on this campus are-we are a "problem."

We are a family, but African-American students have often told me that they feel like the step-children of their alma mater. At least one has expressed fatigue with the need to constantly explain why racism hurts and why African-American students have a right to be here. It is a burden no young person should have to shoulder.

I am very glad that Jamele Adams, the assistant dean of student life in support of diversity, held a forum a couple weeks ago at which student voices got to be heard. Abandoning the dramaturgy of victimization and demonization, perhaps some small progress can be made. I do not need to see the editors of Gravity as Klansmen. As archaic and crude as it was, I do not need to call its author a "hater" to know that it was "hateful."

The point is that the "BlackJerry" advertisement was patently offensive. Anyone over the age of 11 should have been able to see its repercussions. The "advertisement" demanded a search for a historical image and planning of the layout. It was a weird use of early 20th-century stereotypes by young men to insult their classmates in the 21st.

I am convinced that this incident, part of a chain of stupidities, will not be the last. That is the issue: The way to ruin is paved with good intentions. The assumptions and stereotypes that inform efforts at dialogue can degenerate into "talking shops." The view that blacks on this campus are the beneficiaries of a form of secular missionary outreach is debilitating. It encourages both condescension and resentment.

We need basic change. It is not the presence of a few blacks that causes racism. It is the lack. When compared with our sister institutions, we are falling behind in the education of young African-American women and men. The recruitment pool of black applicants has to be deepened. We must build on the programs already in place. I would specifically suggest that the University hire recruiters to visit those cities and towns that are now sending streams of students to comparable institutions.

I was recently quoted in this newspaper as saying I was convinced that the University is sincere about creating a welcoming and affirming environment. That aim, however, should be subordinate to creating real numerical campus diversity. The flat-lining of recruitment of students and faculty will, in the long run, win no kudos. A "harmonious" campus with a miniscule African-American presence would betray the core values of the institution.



The writer is a professor of history and African and African-American studies.