COLUMN: "Coming together"

From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96 From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96The solution to residential– and other –From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96The solution to residential– and other –segregation on campus has been suggestedFrom Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96The solution to residential– and other –segregation on campus has been suggestedbefore: randomized housing. From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96The solution to residential– and other –segregation on campus has been suggestedbefore: randomized housing.On Monday, The Daily Pennsylvanian reported that a remarkable 82 percent of undergraduates feel the University is residentially segregated. No doubt the methodology of the poll was imperfect, but the number is astonishing nevertheless. It reveals that students are finally willing to speak frankly about the state of race relations at Penn. Here's a clue: Segregation is the opposite of integration. It means that on this campus, students of different races do not live together. It means that the Quad is "white" and W.E.B. DuBois College House is "black." Lucid seemed to figure the issue out in mid-sentence, so he stopped himself. "The element of choice operating in the residential assignment system is very great," he said, "and the way in which students choose to separate themselves out –– I think this is an interesting subject." But there we have it: "Students choose to separate themselves out." And they do it by race. That's what segregation means. Some members of the University community get defensive when this subject comes up. Wharton senior Jamal Powell, president of the DuBois House Council, has in interesting definition of segregation. "I don't think Penn is residentially segregated at all," he said in the DP's report. "I think people choose where they want to live." Yes, and certain golf clubs just happen to be all white because no blacks apply, right? Of course people choose where they want to live. The problem is that white people choose to live in some places, and blacks choose to live in others. That doesn't sound like integration or diversity. It sounds like self-segregation, which is segregation nonetheless. In the DP article, Powell explained that he is frustrated with the idea that people from DuBois are "expected to go out and socialize with others." Powell blames whites for residential segregation. College freshman Matthew Stein said, "When a black student chooses to live in the DuBois House, they automatically limit themselves... into a black world. Stein blames blacks. Lola Bertolez of the Latin American Living and Learning Program blames everyone. "The program doesn't segregate," she said. "People segregate." Indeed they do. So we should all stop blaming each other -- and start blaming ourselves. Maybe blacks are wrong to isolate themselves in DuBois House. Maybe whites are wrong for never going to DuBois House and finding out what its program is all about. But all one has to do is visit the basement of 1920 Commons to see that we have a big problem on this campus. The dining room is a metaphor for the University as a whole. Blacks sit on one side, and whites sit on the other. So once we're done with our little catharsis, maybe we can look for a solution. It doesn't seem like whites are going to start attending DuBois House activities any time soon. And there isn't much chance that DuBois House will somehow be abolished, nor should it be abolished. The solution, then, lies somewhere in the middle. It was proposed two years ago by the Commission on Strengthening the Community. Randomize freshman housing. Deny freshmen the choice of where to live during their freshman year. Keep them out of all the college house programs. Wharton senior Lenny Chang, president of the Class of 1996, put it eloquently in the DP story. "A first-year student," he says, "comes into the University with a fresh perspective" and should have the chance "to be open to all opportunities at Penn." Freshmen coming from all-white suburbs would have blacks on their halls. Those coming from all-black urban areas would have whites on their halls. They would talk. They would get to know each other. They might become friends, or they might not, but for four years there would be people of other races they could say hello to on campus. We would all understand each other better. After freshman year, those who want to move into DuBois should be free to do so. Those who want to move into the Science and Technology program should have that option. But for that one year, we should have to live together, regardless of race. Is this really such a radical idea? We have a terrible problem on our hands. Race relations on campus have not improved. The tensions of three years ago are still here. They are simply buried beneath the surface. It is the most worn cliche to say that we are "the leaders of the future," but it is, of course, true. Right now, the University is producing a generation of leaders who leave college with more racial prejudice than they had when they got here. At Penn we learn not to trust each other, but to be wary. And it starts in the dorms. As University President Judith Rodin observed last week, randomized freshman housing is not a panacea for the problems of what DuBois called "the color line." There is no panacea -- but it is a start. We cannot bring about an integrated society, but we can arrange for our freshmen to have an integrated experience during their first year in residence. Other colleges around the country face the same dilemma we do. But after making ourselves a national disgrace with "water buffalo" and the theft of 14,000 copies of the DP, we have the chance to actually lead through bold experimentation. With each year that we fail to act, we move a step closer to losing another generation. And DuBois's dream of breaching the color line moves that much further out of reach.