protest at the wilk!!!
I live for activism. In 2019, I attended a protest at the University of California, Berkeley, objecting to an on-campus speech by far-right personality Ann Coulter. I was just 18, invited by a recent acquaintance and told to wear black and bring a face covering. I remember passing armed police as I entered campus. I remember my heart beating quickly when I reached the breathy, roiling mass of students at Wheeler Hall where the event was slated to take place. My heart pounded not out of fear but out of pride. I felt powerful in that soup of like-minded students. My voice felt needed and I had a clearer vision of my role in civil participation. During my exposure to campus activism, that experience stands out as eye-opening.
Every day of my freshman year at UC Berkeley, I walked by the family camped on the plaza for the Israel-Palestinian conflict, the various environmental groups sharking around for signatures, the free-speech monument, and the roamer who always had cardboard “peace and love” signs in his well-worn hands.
When I transferred to BYU, the sterility of campus and unrelenting wholesomeness was jarring. Although I love my tight-knit, holy Provo community, a piece of me will always miss the bazaar of the Berkeley quad and the hand-painted posters that drew my eyes and pulled on my heart.
Protesting and marches are not new to Provo or BYU, but it’s hard to find documentation of any unrest on campus before 2009, in part thanks to Ernest L. Wilkinson. By the time he retired, Wilkinson had increased enrollment by sixfold, yet BYU was one of the few campuses in the entire United States that did not protest the Vietnam War. His distaste for civil unrest came along with the growth he brought to the university.
Wilkinson had a penchant for seeking out professors and students he deemed “too liberal” and removing them from the university, creating a culture of fear around sharing political feelings or attending protests. In addition to declaring “rioters would be expelled, no questions asked,” he led an administorial takeover of the Honor Code, wrenching power over dress and grooming standards from the student council. Since then, BYU has taken even more steps to restrict expression of student opinion including their recent decision to prohibit rallies on Y Mountain.
Thanks to Wilkinson’s legacy, only students and faculty are allowed to protest on campus per the official BYU Demonstration policy. Additionally, protests must be pre-planned and approved by BYU beforehand. These requirements restrict truly authentic community responses on campus, creating a dead-zone for political activism and civil engagement. For a university striving for “intellectually enlarging experiences that promote civility in the exchange of ideas and that encourage civic engagement,” allowing and more actively encouraging diverse political discourse and activism with the entire community could be a good start.
As a result, civic engagement is put on the back burner at BYU. Paying tithing replaces donating to charities and attending ward prayer is seen as more worthy than watching political debates. There is an implied sentiment that withdrawing from the political arena to avoid “contention” equates to taking the higher road. Not only do these norms foster lukewarm and half-baked opinions on what is going on outside our bubble, it also cripples our ability to empathize and accept people different from us. The recent viral videos filmed by the Black Menaces on BYU campus show how disconnected some BYU students are. Many seem visibly uncomfortable when asked a simple question and reply without confidence, exposing themselves as uninformed. If BYU campus has the most politically balanced student body in Utah, why aren’t we better at expressing it?
Despite popular belief, it’s not contentious to have an informed opinion on a national or international issue. Forming and vocalizing opinions can help us be more vulnerable with each other as a community. The issues that are most important to us are usually the hardest to share. Civil unrest tied the students and community in Berkeley closer with shared goals and shared vulnerability—it takes a lot of trust in the people around you to look into their eyes and hold out your hurt for them to help. I want that for Provo.
Daily, direct contact with my community in Berkeley increased my social awareness and my empathy for people who were previously on the periphery of my mental landscape. Protesting helped me feel like I was needed in this country for political change. It made me want to be a voter. We know there is power in physically gathering. So did Wilkinson. So did whoever wrote the demonstration policy. So what are they afraid of?
https://contentdm.lib.byu.edu/digital/collection/BYUPhotos/id/764/
https://contentdm.lib.byu.edu/digital/collection/BYUPhotos/id/766/rec/2