This post was formulated after reading my classmates’ posts, and I’d like to thank Kimberly and Medha for pointing out that mindfulness practices aren’t without their historical roots. In particular, they brought up the exploitative nature of American universities adapting Buddhist and Hindu practices in attempts to incorporate mindfulness into the curriculum.
Not only can this isolate students originating from the cultures being appropriated, but it raises broader questions about the limits of decolonizing academia. I’d argue that while students, staff, and faculty shouldn’t necessarily feel discouraged from fighting for a more just university setting, the institution of academia is built on white supremacy and colonialism and cannot be truly radical. With this topic, I’ve been thinking particularly about our ICA project group, and about the contemplative practice we listened to on “Thanksgiving.”
In our project group, we have been exploring the ways that the UW Board of Regents have been stalling students fighting for climate justice. Despite announcing plans to divest, the BoR has significantly pushed back the divestment deadline, as well as adding language that allowed continued investment in Fossil Fuel corporations also engaged in sustainability efforts, which is basically every FF corporation. In essence, the highest institutional power at UW has been consistently blocking efforts of progressive action against Fossil Fuel investment, although ICA has been continuing to pressure them.
In addition, the contemplative practice we engaged in virtually on “Thanksgiving” brought up, to me, the origins of the university and the limitations of an acknowledgement. I’m sorry to say that I don’t remember the specifics of this contemplative practice, but I remember asking myself if an acknowledgement of genocide and land theft—as in the case of this practice, and in the case of many land acknowledgements—was enough, especially coming from an institution engaged in many of those same practices.
The more than 600 acres of stolen land making up UW’s main campus—nothing compared to the more than 7,000 acres “owned” by the institution throughout Washington and Alaska.
In both these cases, well-intentioned individuals fell short and were pushed back by the regressive institution they were working within.
This is an incomplete picture, and is not meant to discourage students, staff, and faculty from engaging in radical action and pressuring institutions to do the same. Rather, it’s an acknowledgement of the reality that universities are neoliberal institutions, concerned with upholding their financial interests. More so, it’s a recognition that so much radical work happens outside of academia, and that we shouldn’t limit ourselves to institutions that don’t have the peoples’ interests at heart.