The final post in a series on how the great sociological thinkers from the past can help us understand the struggle of today’s students as they explore and discern their vocations.
Until recently, W.E.B. DuBois was not considered one of the founding fathers of sociology. In The Scholar Denied, eminent sociologist Aldon Morris documents how and why academic institutions and leaders have downplayed DuBois’s ideas over the past century. Despite DuBois’s significant achievements, Morris argues that scientific racism prevented him and his work from being recognized as foundational to the discipline of sociology. Today, however, his contributions to the discipline—including methodological innovations, pioneering insights in the sociology of race, and empirical studies of African-American communities in the United States—are seen as central not only to sociology, but to public sociology, a tradition which unites scholarship and activism. His sociological insights into these areas also provide important ways to approach vocational exploration, especially for anyone responding to the call of justice and for the students with whom we work who are marginalized or minoritized.
Some of our students will face classrooms and workplaces that will not lift them up or recognize their contributions; in some cases they may even contend with active hostility. In this context, W.E.B DuBois’s life and vocation can serve as a model. When institutions are not ready for your presence or your ideas, you may have to build new ones. While DuBois was not fully embraced in the academy, he gained widespread fame and recognition as one of the leaders of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, one of the most important organizations in the Civil Rights Movement. He was editor of the magazine The Crisis and wrote many articles to inform Americans about racism and to promote education and creativity in Black communities. DuBois also put together an exhibition for the 1900 World’s Fair in Paris composed of remarkable data visualizations about African Americans that were so far ahead of their time they look like contemporary memes. Despite the obstacles he faced, his legacy is undeniable and inspirational for anyone who might seek to overcome callings that are thwarted or blocked, to invoke the language of Bonnie Miller-McLemore.
One of DuBois’s great insights was the concept of double consciousness, the idea that Black Americans see themselves through the ugly frameworks imposed on them by dominant White society. This dynamic creates tension for Black Americans who want to excel but are kept from opportunity by racist social institutions and sometimes by internalized stereotypes that prevent them from seeing what might be possible. Understanding double consciousness is helpful for anyone who is part of a minority group to help make sense of their experience. Students of color have to navigate institutions that were not built for them; they may encounter prejudice, punishment, and intellectual justifications for their subjugation, all of which gives them unique insights into how these systems work. This notion—that oppressed people have special insight into a society’s power dynamics—has gained significant support both within and outside of academia, with scholars building on W.E.B DuBois’s work and generating concepts like privilege and intersectionality. Using these frameworks to understand issues of oppression and marginalization might not solve these problems, but they can help validate students’ experiences, preserve their self-esteem, and cultivate a sense of purpose.
There is a long tradition in the United States of college students being politicized and taking action to make society better. A common demand has been for universities to hire faculty in ethnic studies in areas like Black studies or Asian American studies. Why is this the case? Knowledge is an essential component in the pursuit of freedom and power, so to see people like you participating in the generation and dissemination of knowledge is vital in opening vocational opportunities. Research has found that ethnic studies curricula have a positive impact on minority students’ academic achievement. Anticipating such insights, DuBois served as a beacon in this work, ensuring intellectuals would have a voice to speak out against racism and promote the positive representation of scholars of color. As he notes in The Crisis, “it was the rule of most white papers to never publish the picture of a colored person except as a criminal.” He knew the importance of showcasing Black excellence and providing a counternarrative to the dominant idea that Black people occupied a lower position in the social hierarchy because they deserved it.
Such views did not earn DuBois respect from some of his peers, nor was he widely embraced by mainstream academia during his lifetime. He was not only excluded from certain circles for his views, but also faced persecution, illustrating the reality that the right to freedom of speech has been differentially extended to Americans based on their social class, the color of their skin, and the political preferences of those in power. The FBI monitored DuBois closely because of his socialist political views, and during the Red Scare when DuBois was in his 80s, the federal government targeted him and confiscated his passport; he was subsequently arrested and arraigned for the “crime” of circulating a petition against nuclear weapons. DuBois proclaimed his innocence and campaigned for his freedom; he received significant support from figures like Albert Einstein, who was set to testify when he was acquitted of the charges against him. Ultimately, DuBois lived in Ghana during the last years of his life, and the United States refused to renew his passport, effectively annulling his citizenship.
It is a challenging time for higher education and the pursuit of knowledge and truth in the United States. It is especially difficult for students and scholars who until recently have benefitted from institutional commitments to diversity, equity, and inclusion. Historians who study fascism are leaving the country as President Trump demands that universities adhere to his political ideology in exchange for federal funding. We are seeing news media increasingly follow the directives of billionaires and the federal government, instead of being independent institutions devoted to uncovering truth. However, there are many in higher education who maintain that academic freedom and speaking out against injustice are important values worth preserving. For many, they are worthy and important callings, both institutionally and personally.
W.E.B. DuBois models for all of us what it means to live out a calling that does not conform to the unjust expectations of the times—a calling that these forces could have blocked, but only partially thwarted. He pursued truth and freedom while the United States government spied on and persecuted him; his commitments to these ideals did not help his career. Despite these challenges, he lived a life full of purpose and meaning and achieved great things that we revere him for today. We might ask ourselves and our students: Who has the courage today to follow in DuBois’s footsteps? Our students are watching and also setting examples that faculty members and staff can be inspired by and learn from.
Michelle Oyakawa is an assistant professor of sociology at Muskingum University in New Concord, Ohio. She is co-author of Prisms of the People: Power and Organizing in Twenty First Century America with Hahrie Han and Liz McKenna and Smart Suits, Tattered Boots: Black Ministers Mobilizing the Black Church in the Twenty First Century with Korie Edwards. For more posts by Michelle, click here.