“You belong here.”

In my time at Emory, I have never been explicitly told those words, but I have most certainly felt them in nearly everything I do. Whether it’s Monday night staff meetings with my fellow resident advisers in Woodruff, run-ins at Kaldi’s with friends I haven’t seen since last semester or my favorite professor reminding me of how capable I am as a learner, I’ve slowly transformed from someone plagued by impostor syndrome into someone who wholeheartedly knows that they belong nowhere else but here, at Emory. 

In fact, I believe that it is Emory’s mission to make us believe we are all a part of something greater than ourselves and our individual stories. A sense of belonging is a right, not a privilege.

But on Jan. 28, Heather Mac Donald stopped at nothing to shatter this perception. I detest her claims to the highest degree, and if you haven’t read them, you can find them here.

That being said, I understand how Mac Donald’s mere appearance was not a violation of Emory’s Open Expression policy. What I am not a proponent of, however, is our University elevating this rhetoric (primarily by exonerating this woman from any wrongdoing for the sake of “free speech”), while we claim to espouse values of diversity and inclusion. Frankly, the fact that our administration neither denounced Mac Donald’s statements nor reaffirmed that equity in higher education is a priority of our institution is disappointing, but not surprising. 

So, while our calls for equity have fallen on deaf ears, let this serve as a call to the greater Emory community. To every student who came from a Title 1 school; to every student whose parents came to this country in hopes of giving their children the moon, the sun and the stars; to survivors of rape and sexual assault; to students of every race, color, class, identity and creed; and to every student who has spent the last week engulfed by feelings of dejection, I want you to know one thing: you belong here.

And I’m so glad that you do, because it is both our shared experiences and our unique backgrounds that make Emory the incredible institution that it is. But one student’s declaration is not enough: it is time our University leaders do the same. It is their responsibility to ensure that students have the appropriate resources and spaces to counter-program, hold community debriefs, and seek comfort and solace from mentors and professionals that know how to navigate times of crisis. 

I am eternally grateful to the various student organizations and Campus Life offices that continue to carry out those very missions. Organizations such as Emory’s chapter of the NAACP, which held a response program that ran concurrently with Mac Donald’s event, and Young Democrats of Emory, which held a discussion on Jan. 30 about the importance of equitable access and inclusion in higher education, are to be revered. If Emory truly advocates for the inclusion of underrepresented students, we cannot accept the notion that open expression comes at the expense of people of color, women, first-generation students and all other kinds of identity-based groups that have been historically excluded from spaces of higher education.

I love Emory. It is where I have developed my greatest passions, deepest friendships and most meaningful intellectual discourse. It is where I have realized my most authentic self. I’m sure a lot of you have similar sentiments. But loving something should never mean that you allow it to remain unchallenged. I love this place, and I want to shape it for the better. And in this case, that means expecting those who manage this institution to ensure that underrepresented groups feel safe and welcome. 

Institutions like Emory may not have been built for people like us, but every day, I’m confident that we are shaping it into the place we want it to be: one that not only preaches inclusion, equity and justice, but practices it, too.

Mikko Biana (21C) is from Davie, Fla.

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