After nearly two years of my resistance, this month my English department at University of Houston–Downtown published an “antiracism statement” on our website that purports to speak for all of our faculty. Only a few years ago, it was (correctly) assumed that every campus in America was opposed to racism. But since the Great Awokening around 2020, until you explicitly state you are 'anti-racist,' you are assumed to be a racist. This emotional blackmail from activist academics has coerced almost every public university in American to publish an “antiracism statement” of one kind or another.

While 'anti-racism' sounds innocuous to many, it actually serves as shorthand for a radical leftist agenda that assumes race is the critical lens through which all society must be viewed. The policies endorsed by 'anti-racists' are full of racial favoritism and demonization–essentially, they advocate a new racism where ethnic minorities are systematically privileged and cultural majorities are denigrated or disfavored.

Whenever my department discussed the anti-racism statement, I explicitly stated my opposition and suggested compromises that might allow my colleagues to craft a statement that didn’t profess to speak for everyone (which amounts to compelled speech for those who disagree). Ironically, my colleagues had precious little patience when it came to “tolerance” or “inclusion” of a minority perspective among the faculty. The result was an unhinged, hysterical statement that announces a fictional consensus.

At most colleges, tenure-track and tenured faculty are evaluated annually in three performance categories: teaching, the production of new scholarship, and service (clerical and administrative work in the function of the university). In the past few years, activist faculty at many institutions have tried to add a new category based on one’s fealty to, and advancement of, the principles of DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion).

Some faculty have forcefully resisted these efforts, as many see them as ideological purity tests: professors become obligated to actively support the implementation of leftist policies and ideas on campus. Where enacted, this system rewards and encourages progressive faculty to amplify their activism. It also provides a mechanism to punish tenured professors and deny tenure to faculty who do not exhibit sufficient zeal for the left’s cultural revolution.

The anti-racism statement also forces upon me many other obligations to which I conscientiously object. It says that I will “commit to doing anti-racist work that serves the whole University of Houston–Downtown community.” Against my desire, my colleagues have promised that I will resist “white supremacy and white ways of knowing and being in [my] educational practices.” The problem is that I don’t believe there is any “white supremacy” on my campus [which is also a federally-designated “minority-serving institution”]. Further, whatever “white supremacy” exists in America at large is not only miniscule, it is wholly beyond my ability to change. What happens when my colleagues don’t see evidence that I am “resisting” it in my teaching materials?

Although the rubrics that officially determine annual evaluation scores within the categories of teaching, scholarship, and service don’t (yet) reference the anti-racism statement, I doubt this would prevent activist faculty from taking it into account in my performance review. After all, my colleagues make no attempt to conceal their intent to police the faculty and punish those who disagree: “the department community commits […] that everyone is held accountable […] in the creation of course materials, assessment, accessibility, class discussions, labor distributions and requests, and mentorship.”

English departments nowadays are woke lunatic asylums. They worship the holy trinity of race, class, and gender, and heavily focus on delivering hot takes on social issues and writing articles no one reads. To the decreasing extent that they deal with English literature, they focus on (you guessed it!) race, class, and gender.