A few weeks after first-year orientation, fourth year Henessa Gumiran posted a review of her Rutgers experience on the incoming students’ page. Her list, which criticized Rutgers’ rising tuition, faculty treatment, and treatment of student rapists, received an incredible amount of backlash. Some questioned her reasons for attending Rutgers, some trolled, and others posted meme-ified pictures of her profile picture.
“I’ve been at Rutgers for four years and I haven’t seen anything substantial change. That post was a compilation of all the stuff I’ve gathered from working with other students and faculty,” Henessa told me. The post was originally a ‘for-friends- eyes-only’ status, but a friend convinced her to post it on the Rutgers Class of 2020 pages. “I had nothing to lose,” she said. Ironically enough, her friend – her male friend – had copied and posted the post on another Rutgers page. He didn’t receive the same feedback Henessa did. “It came down to straight-up misogyny,” she said, especially pointing out the exploitation of her Facebook photos.
The inflammatory response to the post, she explained, stemmed from college culture. “It doesn’t promote critical thinking about the university you’re attending – it’s more about the amped up excitement of starting a new phase of your life. Having that kind of conception of college is a privilege. It’s a privilege to be able to go to college and to also have a rosy picturesque vision of what college will be like. A majority of freshmen have their career plan ready or are treating it as a 100 grand party with their parents’ money.”
Henessa went on to explain her history with mental health, and how that impacted her experience of higher education. In her senior year of high school she was so medically withdrawn that she could not attend class for three months. Despite medical documentation, her school would not allow her to walk for graduation. “My mom told me, ‘You should just stay home because that’s all you’re good at,’” Henessa said of her parents’ reaction. “What was the point of them paying money for me to go to college if I couldn’t make it through high school?” Thus, she came into college with the mindset of both redemption and caution – a reality for many students living with chronic mental health issues and financial instability.
She talked extensively on the problem of class and how it strongly divided students at colleges across the nation. Many of her friends either have dropped out of college or took a semester off due to financial struggles. As Henessa described it, “They don’t have mommy or daddy to take care of everything for them.” She went on to tell me about her friend who was disowned – and thus had their financial aid cut – because they converted to a new religion. “For a lot of people getting to college is more than just a next step. It’s a life investment they’re going to have to pay for their entire lives at the expense of a college calling itself more prestigious.” Essentially, the reality of the uninterrupted four year experience is made more and more unlikely depending on your socioeconomic barriers.
“If you don’t like Rutgers, transfer out,” many students argued. Henessa pushes against that criticism, saying, “Moving to a different school doesn’t change the fact that there still are problems that exist here, at Rutgers. That post was specifically tailored to the problems Rutgers has specifically displayed at my time here.”
She recounted a story about a high profile rape on Rutgers campus that occurred in 2014. The woman raped had screenshotted a confession by the man who raped her and had reported the assault to Rutgers. Rutgers suspended him for three semesters, a time frame chosen specifically so she would graduate and he could continue his education after she left. “This shows a system that values keeping norms in place, covering it up, sweeping things under the rug. It’s a systemic problem: these institutions are not willing to take any accountability for problems they say they are leaders in fighting.” In regards to the obligatory online course regarding domestic abuse and presentations during freshman orientation, Henessa says “They’re practically infomercials. It’s a piece-y way of saying that we acknowledge that this is something that happens on college campuses, but we’re not going to actually do anything substantial about it, like expelling rapists.”
She also addressed issues she learned after extended contact with faculty members: “We should be treating our faculty with more respect. We shouldn’t have them on pay-freezes, have them vying for tenure, ultimately not getting it, and living in poverty. I see it in a lot of faculty members – they’re overworked, they don’t have respect, they don’t have benefits.”
At the end, I asked her what her recommendations were for students interested in improving Rutgers and recognizing their privilege. “It comes with unpacking everything you have learned growing up.” Everyone wants to ‘do good,’ but she drew a line separating good intentions from privileged intentions. She asks: why you are doing these things? Is it for a good point on your resume? Is it for the aesthetic, the Instagram post? Essentially, are you just serving yourself? For non-profit activists, have you created the roots for a stable organization that is able to multiply the impact you say you are making?
Henessa is just one of many student activists who aim to increase awareness and bring betterment. The first step towards change is acknowledgement that change needs to occur. A good portion of the Rutgers community is struggling to stay afloat while another lives ignorant. Another good step towards change: listen to what the marginalized have to say.