Recently, Oberlin College’s Black Student Union published its list of demands to the college’s president. In the demands document, the students ask for, among other things: A 40 percent increase in the number of black students in the school’s jazz department by 2022, free housing to all black international students who are unable to return back to their home countries during post-semester breaks, the establishment of special, segregated black-only “safe spaces” across campus, including in the central library and the school’s science building; and an $8.20 per hour stipend for black student leaders who are organizing protest efforts.
When I first read some of these demands, I thought they looked more like a satire from “The Onion” than a BSU list of demands. But over time I have realized that these demands and ideas are not exclusive to Oberlin; they are ideas shared by many activists here at Brown. One of these ideas, however, has caught my attention over the past few months: the idea that student activists should be paid. My first exposure to this happened a few months ago when I read the Alianza Latina’s document entitled “General Ideas of Demands.” In it, the Alianza asks for some form of compensation for the time consumed by student activism.
It is absolutely understandable that student-activist groups might want some compensation. Campus activism has historically brought about great moral upheaval and has inspired a great deal of social change. Activism is a pursuit far nobler than investment banking, a pursuit that has collectively created more good than any multinational corporation. Activists must always run cost-benefits: Would I rather fight for the $15 minimum wage or work a job that pays $8.20 an hour? The opportunity costs constantly dogging the activists are immense, and the rewards for student activism do not pay tuition, do not pay for Jo’s — nor do they account for the utility gained by society.
Furthermore, for many, the rewards of activism may never present themselves. Many African-American activists will never see the day when Americans understand the socially constructed nature of race. Many environmentalists will never see the day when ExxonMobil has to pay for all the harms for which they are responsible. While capitalists reap the benefits of their moral vacancy, the activist remains a victim of his own virtuousness and integrity. The members of the Alianza Latina are completely right; it is absolute insanity to provide the morally bankrupt the ability to profit from exploitation, while restricting the right of the activist to make a minimum wage. So why shouldn’t student activists receive $8.20 an hour? Why shouldn’t we reward those who work on behalf of the goodness of society?
Well, I think we must first consider what an activist is. Activism, in my view, is the defiance of power. It is the social embodiment of empathy, the raw expression of passion and the rare manifestation of good within humanity. The activist uniquely stands above us, incorruptible and wholly unselfish, as Nelson Mandela was, serving 27 years in prison for his protestation of apartheid; as Martin Luther King Jr. was, dreaming of a world where all men would be treated as though they were truly created equal; and as Eugene V. Debs was, standing up against the cause of World War I in the face of the Espionage Act and a 10-year jail sentence. For the activist, the movement and the ideal are much larger than himself.
Thus, when the activist subverts himself for his own self-interest (compensation), he subverts his own cause. He is saying that the cause has a price and is not worth his sacrifice or transient unselfishness. So when Oberlin’s BSU asks for paid activism, it diminishes the criticisms of capitalism that the BSU offers in the first paragraph of their document. And when the Alianza Latina wants compensation for the “insanity” caused by activism, what they are saying is that the cause is not worth sacrificing their sanity for unless there is some form of compensation. If we are to believe a movement, we must be able to see the activist as a symbol: He must be willing to lose everything for the sake of his ideals.
Sure, I understand the argument against this. Just today, I was at the Common Good Jobs Fair, looking at different paid internships in environmental advocacy and urban education. These people will pay you to advocate for them; they will pay you to call and canvass whether you are an intense activist or a good interviewer who just wants a little bit more money. And as a result of their efforts, they truly do a lot of good. Moreover, if the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People pays their protest organizers, how can campus protest organizers be left with nothing?
To this, I answer that there is a difference between student activists and career activists: Student activists have fewer commitments. I do not mean to understate the problem of student loans or socioeconomic divides within the student population at Brown, but it is a fact that most college students do not carry the weight of raising a family and paying rent — a higher proportion of adult activists do. As a result, student activism at the college level has the opportunity to capture the public in a way that paid activism cannot: It can be truly pure. In college, activism does not need to be paid for. Rather, it can be based wholly upon true passion rather than the relative insincerity of what the outside world has to offer. It is this very pureness that motivates many Democrats to support Bernie over Hillary. Bernie is not controlled by moneyed interests; he is purely invested in his beliefs and ideas — not the beliefs of Goldman Sachs or his own selfishness.
If there is money to be made in activism, then we can almost certainly say that there will be more activists; regrettably, that is the nature of the society we live in today, like it or not. But these new activists would not be there if not for the money. No longer would every student activist fighting for climate change awareness be enthralled by his own passions; now there would be students enthralled by the thought of money and self interest.
Activism is not and cannot be a business. Activism must be a belief system, a religion whose tithe, sadly, is sanity, time and passion. The power and sanctity of the activist comes from the idea that the activist is unaffected, uncorrupted, strictly adhering to his beliefs in right and wrong. Simply put, the credibility of an activist is derived from the trust and expectation that the activist is fighting for the common good and the forward progression of society. But as soon as money is paid to activists, that purity guiding activism is cast away, and with that departed purity languishes the power that activism has over the people.
Glenn Yu ’19 can be reached at glenn_yu@brown.edu. Please send responses to this opinion to letters@browndailyherald.com and other op-eds to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
