Desegregation Context: Trustees' Statement and Silence

RTP_19641027.pdf

W&L’s Board of Trustees’ non-discrimination statement informs the public that the institution’s policy had never established discrimination against applicants of color. To many, the integration of Washington and Lee was “the inevitable answer to the question of integration.” W&L lagged behind some of their peer institutions who had already began their process of integration. With the hopes of not only retaining their respectability as an institution but also receiving the applicants of bright students of color, W&L’s 1964 desegregation statement responded to the possibility of a more diverse student body, that of which would reflect the rapidly changing nation. However, as the author from this article states—the statement would not at all see a flood of Negro applicants, nor would it “dilute” the student body. The question of desegregation would be one quite different than that of integration. That is, W&L’s accepted Negro applicant would not necessarily or automatically be as accepted as their peers within the undergraduate population.

 One important note that a student writer makes in a Ring-tum Phi article entitled "We Shall Overcome" is that, “[W&L's] prolonged silence speaks louder than words.” Washington and Lee’s students, faculty and trustees pondered integration as they observed the demographics of other universities changing but up until 1964, the year former President Lyndon B. Johnson outlawed open practices of discrimination, did they decide to finally and quickly act. But what kept them silent until 1964? The verb silence is defined as “[a] cause to become silent; prohibit or prevent from speaking.” This definition, more often than not, observes silence as a tool to quiet or suppress. What happens, however, when silence is wielded as a tool for those in power to order to distance themselves from political chaos and deny participation in a society designed to keep certain groups in power?

In an article by Rodney G.S. Carter entitled “Of Things Said and Unsaid: Power, Archival Silences, and Power in Silence,” Carter observes that “The powerful have the ability to make lasting statements that will be heard and attended to.” Washington and Lee, southern and erring towards tradition, has also engaged in traditions of silence. Those gaps, however innocent at first presumption, leave marks that occasionally outlast the most powerful of words spoken. As Carter later argues, "Silence implies voice. It does not equal muteness, that is, it is not a negative phenomenon, simply the absence of sound, speech, text, or other sign. Silence can be actively entered into or, as occurs where the power is exerted over an individual or group, it is enacted upon that individual or group. In the archives, silences can occur as marginal groups are actively denied entry." The surficial documentation is clean, but what lies underneath is deeper and vaster than timelines allow for. Silence, though often associated with fear, can also be an action defined as, “We could’ve said something, but safest was nothing.”

Desegregation Context