A Different ‘Ethnic Studies’

The silent protest for ethnic studies on Feb. 13 was part of an increasingly vocal campaign to reform Harvard’s curriculum. Though standing committees and certificates are the subjects of debate for now, the real question is whether programs related to issues of identity will receive full department status. Ethan Y. Yeh ’03, a member of the Ethnic Studies Coalition, has been especially active in seeking departments in Latino and Latin American studies, Native-American studies and Asian-American studies, as well as in “area studies” of regions such as Africa and South Asia. According to his op-ed published on this page, the first purpose of such programs would be to “diversify the academic curriculum” by including courses on communities that have been neglected thus far.

Harvard’s coverage of these fields may very well be thin. But this argument portrays ethnic studies as only a means of obtaining courses to fill the ranks of fledgling departments, courses that may have little to do with the concept of ethnic identity. Latin America and Latino America are very different subjects, and it’s hard to see why their history or sociology must be studied under the same rubric of “ethnic studies”—implying that some groups and regions are “ethnic” while others contain only colorless atomic selves. The curricular imbalance can be corrected by financial incentives, encouraging existing departments to explore neglected areas in more depth. The need for a new concentration arises only if the discipline itself is something new, and this is where the harder questions lie.

The structure of most Harvard concentrations assumes that students and researchers are best organized along methodological lines—that the tools are fundamental and require mastery, while the particular subject matter, whether the Silk Road or Route 66, can be picked up as one goes along. Of course, this vision is imperfectly realized. History and Literature, for instance, associates what it admits to be two very different methods of inquiry, and one wonders whether political philosophy, political economy and rational-choice theory all deserve the same “government” label. Some of the sciences and the various “literatures and languages” require a significant amount of technical specialization before the real methods can be applied. But the focus on methodology has at least the aim of ensuring that by the time they graduate, students are capable of conducting legitimate independent research.

It’s possible that the study of identity—what it means, how it is formed, and what role it plays in social interactions—does possess an independent methodology and deserves to be a separate discipline. In this context, the Faculty’s mantra that “ethnic studies are inherently comparative” makes perfect sense; the study of identity should be abstracted from the experiences of particular groups in the same way that history is abstracted from its archeological and philological fodder. And in this general field, Harvard already has courses by the truckload—from theoretical courses on the nature of identity to specific investigations of its role in literature, economics and politics.

But that isn’t what some ethnic studies advocates are calling for. Yeh argues that the Committee on Ethnic Studies should notify students of courses “in Afro-American, Asian American, Latino and Native American Studies,” not on the role of identity in European fiction. However, he also sees ethnic studies as examining “the social construction of race, class, gender and sexuality”—categories that recommend a general approach, rather than a handful of departments divided along ethnic lines.

Segregating these studies by ethnicity would not only impose rigid boundaries among ill-defined and fluid groups; it would also eliminate methodology’s role in defining the disciplines. The Crimson endorsed queer studies in part because gays and lesbians represent a “distinct social group,” but there are many such groups that could be the focus of one’s undergraduate years. Which groups are most “important,” and which should get their concentrations first? The fear isn’t of a slippery slope—that one day, the truly objectionable groups might be let in—but that there would be no way for the University to allocate its limited resources of money, time, and scholarly effort.

In a recent op-ed, Woodrow Wilson Postdoctoral Fellow Heather Love ’91 described the various disciplines as man-made artifacts, products of history rather than reason. But without ahistorical principles of what an education should contain, the only criteria are political, and the decision on ethnic studies becomes a referendum on the acceptability of various ethnic groups. Regarding a Latino studies center, John H. Coatsworth, director of the David Rockefeller Center for Latin American Studies, told the Boston Globe that “Anything that suggests we’re not welcoming or supportive of Latinos is bad for the institution.”

It doesn’t have to be this way. Advocates of ethnic studies could refocus their energies on two distinct goals: correcting the curricular imbalance and establishing a concentration to study identity. To be honest, I’m skeptical that such a concentration would be coherent. The methodology of studying identity isn’t entirely clear. As in the case of the social studies concentration, one wonders how a synthesis of all aspects of the human experience could be achieved, as well as whether it is feasible within four short undergraduate years. Would such a concentration truly integrate and synthesize, or would it merely associate disparate elements under one roof? Would students gain sufficient command of any one approach when they are expected to master them all?

But these questions, at least, remove the implied accusations of prejudice that poison the atmosphere around ethnic studies. They present the case for the study of identity in its clearest form, separate from the related issue of curricular imbalance and the entirely unrelated issue of whether Harvard likes minorities. They only need to be debated once, eliminating the eternal recurrence that would follow as concentrations are requested for every “distinct social group.” And they are questions the University, as an academic community, is most capable of debating—and resolving well.

Stephen E. Sachs ’02 is a history concentrator in Quincy House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.