More than once in the course of posting here, I have written about my undergraduate alma mater, Oberlin College. As I wrote here, to be a graduate of Oberlin is to be filled with a sense of pride in being part of its combined tradition of strong academics and social justice, while simultaneously being frustrated by its willingness to pursue the logic of the latter tradition almost to the point of self-destruction. From time to time, the college has torn itself apart over issues that, while real and worthy of debate, do not justify the potential destruction of the institution and its legacy in American society. Not only is doing so a waste of time, energy, and sometimes money, but it feeds the counter-narrative on the political right that progressivism is a nihilistic search for a "perfect" society that, in the process, threatens to destroy the society we have.
In my day, in the mid-1970s, the biggest debate was over closing a budget gap of significant proportions, and the painful choices need to be made in cutting costs (translation: laying off faculty and even whole departments) and/or seeking new revenue (translation: tuition hikes). What did the students favor? Taking money out of the endowment. Never mind the fact that the endowment was the main reason that tuition was not even higher than it already was (or much lower than it is today). I am sorry to say that the students were driven by the same Boomer optimism that would late drive Reaganomics from the right: live for today, and tomorrow will take care of itself. Ultimately, with help from a new president and a major unexpected legacy, Oberlin got through that period, and continued to flourish.
But the debate over the budget crisis underscored the inability to compromise that characterizes many Oberlin students. Nothing matters except the purity of one's views, and no quarter should be given in the pursuit of those views to their logical conclusion. Not even if that means harming the legitimate interests of those who disagree. And now, as it turns out, not even if it means a head-on collision with the truth. Or if that truth feeds the conservative narrative aimed at destroying the advancement of your views.
I am, of course, talking about the battle between the college and Gibson's Bakery, a local merchant in the town of Oberlin for more than a century, and a popular place to shop for students and residents, especially for fans of whole wheat doughnuts. It's a battle that has provided both the college and the town with more national coverage than perhaps any other story in recent decades. The coverage, and the resultant publicity, is of the sort that neither would have wanted or sought. In the process, in its own way, it has helped to fuel the political polarization that threatens to tear our society completely, and permanently, apart.
Some background: in 2016, an African-American student attempted to shoplift and use a fake ID card at Gibson's. He was pursued outside of the store by an employee, who attempted to detain him and was, in the process, assaulted by two other students who were friends of the student being pursued. The students were later arrested, and accepted a deal in which they plead guilty, made restitution, and admitted that racial profiling was not a factor in the incident.
You might think that this episode, fairly straightforward in its facts, would have ended there. But you would know nothing about Oberlin if you did so. Instead, it lead to a student protest and boycott campaign, a campaign which was aided and abetted by employees of the college, and which ultimately led to cancellation by the college of a contract between it and Gibson's for baked goods in student, as well as allegations of personal harassments of the Gibson family by various individuals. The campaign was spurred on in large part by the allegation that Gibson's had a history of discriminatory practices against Black students, and deserved to be called to account for it.
Ultimately, the Gibson family sued the College for civil damages, and in particular for libel with regard to the allegations that its members had conducted their business in a racially discriminatory manner. After attempts to settle the matter, the case proceeded to a jury trial, which was followed by a series of appeals, a process that concluded this past August with a decision by the Supreme Court of Ohio to reject the college's appeal of a lower court's decision in favor of the Gibsons. At that point, Oberlin announced that it would pay the judgment awarded to the family, which by that point (after adjustment for a statutory damage cap and accrued interest), amounted to $36.59 million. You can read the lower court's opinion here, as well as a broader summary of the facts in the case here.
So, after all has been said and done in this case, stretched out over nearly six years, what's left?
Even after its expected collection of the damages, the bakery is reportedly a shell of its former self, as the boycott against it by the students is still ongoing. The college has suffered a substantial hit to its reputation and its pocketbook, although I suspect that insurance and the school's overall financial position will ease the latter deficit. The town and its residents, which includes a significant Black population, has even more reason to resent the intrusion of the college in its day-to-day affairs. The students' concerns about racial profiling, so far as I can tell, have not been addressed in any constructive way.
And, outside of the college and town, the chattering classes in the more reactionary corners of the media have another target for use in distracting attention from their own hypocrisies. In other words, the worst people are the only winners.
How could it have been different? The first conviction that I have about all of this is that it should have been absolutely, positively as different, as better than this, as possible.
To begin with, the college should never, ever, have permitted any of its employees or other agents to participate in the protests organized by the students. Even the lawyers representing the Gibsons stated publicly that the students' First Amendment right to protest was not an issue for their clients. But the willingness of the campus administration to not only advocate against the Gibsons, but provide direct aid to the student protests, and to do so with being in possession of the facts, put the college on a collision course not only with the bakery, but with the town and the many other businesses in it with which the college has both direct and indirect dealings, whether buying goods directly or by supplying a market of customers (students and faculty).
Town-and-gown relationships are inherently sensitive in nature and, while they can be mutually beneficial, they require a mutual need to recognize that the maintenance of those benefits requires an ongoing dialogue about potential sources of friction, and an established process for having that dialogue. If the college and the town had such a process in place, that might have provided a means for discussing and debating the incident at Gibson's, and the issues spinning off of it. What seems clear in any case, from the way this dispute unfolded, is that no such process exists here. Had that been otherwise, it might have given everyone an off-ramp for dealing with the debate in a way that addressed merchants' concerns about crime and students' concerns about prejudice.
Second, and perhaps above all, the college should never, ever, have allowed this case to go to a jury trial, under any circumstances. It's an irony of Oberlin's geographic location that one of the most politically and culturally progressive colleges in the nation lies not only in one of the nation's reddest states, but also in one of the reddest districts in that state, a district that could practically be the political poster child for corporate disinvestment in American manufacturing.
I can sum up the reality of that in two words: the name of the district's current representative in Congress, Jim Jordan. Voters for Jim Jordan. That was the jury pool for the trial. Even if the college had a plausible defense for inserting itself into the debate over the incident at Gibson's, there was no chance of getting a jury that would be willing to hear it. To the contrary, it was guaranteed to get a jury that would salivate at the chance to strike a perceived blow against "political correctness." Gibson's lawyers, if (as I would suspect) they were experienced trial lawyers, knew that fact, and I suspect, would only have settled for a deal that treated their client very generously. I would like to think well enough of the college's counsel that they recommended such a settlement, because they were experienced enough to know that their client was going to get clocked in court.
In that case, and ruling out the possibility of malpractice, we're left to accept the likelihood that the college was willing to go to trial simply in an attempt to pacify an angry student population, hoping that the appeals process would go on long enough to position it financially for a settlement they knew in advance would be punishing.
If that is the case, and I am being fair and reasonable (as an attorney myself) in giving counsel on both sides the benefit of the professional doubt, what we are left with is the reality that Oberlin failed in what is perhaps its most fundamental obligation as an institution of higher learning: to act in the best interests of its students. Acting in that interest means not only ensuring the right and ability of students to engage in the most vigorous forms of debate, but to do so in a manner that does not, arbitrarily or otherwise, put an institutional thumb on the scale of civil discourse or, ultimately, the ability to render justice.
The fight for racial justice, as I have myself noted in this space, is built into Oberlin's DNA. It was, is, and should always be a source of pride for the college and for those who have graduated from it. In a time in which the level of racism in American society is exposed to a degree that we can no longer deny its pernicious effects, from our early history to the present day, Oberlin should absolutely be at the forefront of efforts to redress those effects and accelerate the process of our nation becoming a more perfect union. Unfortunately, I believe that it can not do so unless it starts, in a meaningful and uncompromising way, to do so in its own back yard.
Since the announcement by the college that it will pay the court's judgment against it in full, I have found myself, from time to time, visiting its Web site and reading alumni publications in the hope of finding some sign, even the smallest indication that there exists an institutional recognition of the damage that has been done by the tragedy of its relationship with Gibson's, and the need to repair that damage and find a positive path forward for all of the stakeholders. What I have seen so far is the digital and print equivalent of crickets.
Well, with one small exception.
The most recent edition of the Oberlin alumni magazine arrived at my house several days ago. In vain, I searched through its nearly 60 pages for some reference, any reference, to the Gibson case. Nada. Until I came to the very last page, entitled "Endquotes," a collection of quotes from various individuals in the media (social and otherwise) regarding various aspects of Oberlin life. In the middle of the first column was the following gem, a reprint of a posting on Twitter:
When fascism comes to America, never forget that the elite press spent years hollering about the threat posed by utterly powerless Oberlin College sophomores rather than the threat posed by these people.
By "these people," the person making the post was referencing a video of a crowed reciting the Watchmen Decree, a white-nationalist creed. For the record, I take a back seat to no one when it comes to condemning, or fighting, white nationalism in any form. And I consider it to be the greatest menace our democracy has faced.
But, in the immediate moment of reading this, I could only think of one thing.
Well played, Oberlin. Bloody well played.
I meant that sardonically. Here is a fuller description of what I felt. Oberlin has spent years (save for the occasional e-mail) pretending that the whole Gibson controversy never happened, that life at the school has largely been unfolding with first-rate scholarship, exciting student projects, and adventuresome partnerships with various organizations. And finally, now that the lawsuit is over, it sneaks in a subtlety dissenting voice about it on the very last page. It gets the benefits of innocence and retaliation all at once. How about that? I really did go to a school run by clever people.
Clever up to a point, anyway.
Because what the tweet overlooks is a simple fact. Whatever is true about Oberlin students in this whole sorry affair, they were anything but powerless. They brought one of the most celebrated and influential colleges in the United States to its institutional knees. They perpetrated a fraud on one of the best-known and best-loved businesses in the college's home town, blurring the line between institutional racism (a legitimate concern) over the reality of an actual crime which took place. They exacerbated the town-gown relationship to the point at which it may never be repaired, creating problems for the college's business needs going forward.
Perhaps worst of all, they handed a handy talking point to right-wing trolls who don't deserve to have it. Oberlin at its very best is and should be untouchable by people who live in search of distractions from their own sins. There are and will be times when moments they can turn into distractions are unavoidable. So be it. All the more reason to not, in the immortal formulation of Richard Nixon, hand them a sword. But that's what Oberlin students have done.
I understand that I'm wading into a situation where feelings on both sides are very raw. But that's why I'm wading into it. We live in a society where people who care only about wealth and power use the raw feelings of others as raw material to create distractions from the larger forces that are threatening our democracy. They may be a lot closer to success than many of us think. Those of us who care about creating a just and prosperous society for everyone don't have the time, or otherwise the luxury, for internal conflict. To paraphrase Dr. Martin Luther King, the fierce urgency of now has never been fiercer. Or more urgent.
So, if you've made it this far, just hear me out for a little while longer.
What I am pleading for is an effort by Oberlin's administration, Oberlin's students, and Oberlin's business community to come together in a highly visible way, with candor, with humility, and above all with a total commitment to hearing each other, understanding each other, to meeting each other's needs without compromising anyone's legitimate concerns, and to finding ways forward that will prevent a repeat of this tragedy from ever happening again. And this effort, as well as all aspects of it, should be as publicly visible and accessible as possible.
This will require creativity. It will require transparency. And it will require more good will than probably exists among the various stakeholders at this point. But it is utterly essential that it happen. Not just for the future of Oberlin--the college, and the town that has been its home for nearly two centuries--but for the larger example of how all of us should live that Oberlin represents at its best. For whatever it is worth, I would be proud to be a part of any such effort, in any way that I can.
Because I know it can work. As I have documented elsewhere in this space, I've seen it work at Oberlin previously.
And I believe it can work again. For all of our sakes, it has to.
