Not enough ways to say this isn't ok.
On Tuesday September 4th,
at exactly 12pm, summer ended, and a new semester started.
On one side of campus was a welcoming ceremony, cordial with a hint of giddy. New comers eagerly shared their projects, how they spent the summer, and a host of pleasantries.
On the other side of campus, a few hours later, anxiety, despair, and…
not enough ways to say this is not ok.
For many, Tuesday was the beginning of something new and exciting.
People were hopeful and excitedly making connections. All over campus were nervous first-years looking for buildings, rooms, and, with every new introduction, themselves.
In my program, the humanists and social scientists were pleasantly commiserating. I showed up but was weary to start any conversations around the topic on my mind, and the minds of every Black student on campus.
Last week, MIT welcomed the incoming class of 2028. This marks the first admission cycle after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled to end affirmative action in college admissions.
In 2023, the Students for Fair Admissions case challenged whether diversity is still a compelling enough interest to justify race-conscious admissions policies. The Court ruled that race could no longer be considered in admissions, marking a significant shift in how universities like MIT approach diversity.
In August, MIT released its admissions statistics for the undergraduate class of 2028. MIT admitted 1,284 students from 28,232 applicants, resulting in an acceptance rate of 4.5%. While many celebrated, countless others across schools, states, districts, and zip codes mourned, as happens every year.
I am reluctant to hold the pain of Black student enrollment dropping this year in tension with the joy felt by those who were admitted—people are not comparable.
The 55 students who began their studies this week, along with their immediate predecessors, feel the heightened visibility that comes with being a percentage. The decline in numbers represents a bleak future on and off campus. We met that day and shared. The more we discussed, the more the reality of the situation settled in.
There were discussions and actions taken in the past, but with few lasting results.
“There are already so many clubs, classrooms, and spaces with no Black people at all,” one student remarked that evening. But this was something we all already knew.
In 2015, Black student leaders presented recommendations for a more inclusive MIT, advocating for better representation and support. They highlighted the need for a space where Black students could exist without feeling isolated or tokenized. These demands reflected the persistent sense of alienation felt by Black students across campuses. In response, MIT created new student support roles and promised to improve retention and inclusion, but progress has been slow and uneven across schools.
Fast forward to 2023, after the Supreme Court ruling, MIT’s Faculty Advisory Committee published a statement on Advancing Racial Equity. They acknowledged that the ending of affirmative action would likely exacerbate existing inequalities. Their recommendations included proactive recruitment from underrepresented communities and targeted support for students to ensure not only admission but success within MIT.
It will be interesting to see how suggestions regarding admissions are implemented in a future still shaped by Covid-19.
For example, in May of 2023, Thomas Kane, faculty director at Harvard’s Center for Education Policy Research, highlighted that while students have returned to learning post-pandemic, they are progressing at the same pace as before. For those who fell behind their peers, there is not enough time to make up that 1.5 years of schooling missed. What will this mean for the future of college admissions and opportunity in America?
"There’s no speeding up teaching concepts like fractions or the Pythagorean theorem…"
Thomas Kane
Last week, after hearing the testimonies of some of the 55, I became aware of a continued reality.
These precious, brilliant students—who deserve love, nurturing, and encouragement—are already being harassed. Their harassers? Fellow students, on and off campus, who demand that they prove why they are not a mistake. And those who will graduate before them—the previous classes—carry that same burden.
They must prove that they are not products of liberal excess but have the autonomy, dedication, and worthiness that come with cultivating one’s own intelligence. They are among the best of us, and they bear the weight of knowing there is always someone equally brilliant, just unlucky, or born in the wrong zip code.
to be continued