Incidents of Racism at UC Berkeley: Testimony of Ashley Thomas

When I was 16, I was at a school in Englewood -- I’m sorry, in Compton. I went to high school in Compton my junior year of high school. I was actually raped for two years, and I have a baby boy who’s adopted. I tell you all this not for a random reason, but because that was the most painful event of my life. And I thought, coming to Cal, getting away from Southern California, that I would never have to deal with that pain and that anguish ever again.

And then I came here, part of a class of approximately 100 black students, the lowest class in a very, very, very long time. And constantly, I felt that pain over and over again.

My freshman year I stayed in the dorms and I, myself, an RA, and another student, were the only black students on our floor. And that was actually a pretty diverse floor. But I constantly got asked a lot of questions, which was really interesting. They asked me questions about my hair, where I came from, and what it's really like to go to school in Compton, because that was the most interesting thing they could ever think of.

And I remember wrapping my hair, putting it up, because it’s sometimes straight, and wrapping it and putting it in a headscarf. And still, wandering about the halls, just like every other student does, in my pj’s and slippers, and people making fun of me because my hair looked a certain way, or I had hair “rags” on my head. Some students even called me Aunt Jemima, and continued to laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world.

And I just looked at him and couldn't say anything. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I didn't know if I was supposed to speak or just let it go, because it was funny to him. So I just kind of moved on and became more attached to my community. And just started becoming an active part of the black community, which was so helpful and so beneficial, because the people in my community, especially in my class -- we’re like 98, or something like that -- we bonded so well, and came together because we were all we had.

The only classes I ever saw black students in was my African American Studies class, which was really fun. I had it with all the athletes, and it was fun. I know them all. They're my friends. And I started meeting more leaders in my community, one of them being Renita Chaney, my mentor last year, one of my favorite people in the world, who was criticized heavily. She ran for President of the ASUC a couple of years ago, and she was criticized heavily for even suggesting that black students should think about another institution because of the hostile climate here. She didn't win for president, and I think that’s probably the reason why.

And I -- that was the same issues, being that only -- so for two sisters coming behind me, and one is a senior. I remember sitting with her and some of her friends who were in a program at UCLA. They came up to Berkeley to see the campus and they asked me what it was like. I sat and I, again, struggled to find words that accurately tell them what this campus was like. “Should I tell them all the stories? The hatred and prejudice that I have dealt with? Or should I tell them how great an institution it is. We’re top of the world in everything. And just how wonderful…”

I never know what to say to them. I try to tell the truth, about how discouraging it is to come here, because that’s what we want, we want more numbers. And discourage them to come here -- again, I find myself at a lack of words.

During my freshman year, I also looked at an ASUC Senate meeting where one of the black fraternities on campus was holding a black women’s appreciation night, one of the best events I’ve ever been to since I’ve been here on campus.

And they applied to a philanthropy fund for Greeks, all the Greeks on campus. The black fraternities and sororities only making up around four of maybe 50 Greek organizations on this campus. And we knew it was going to be a fight, so we brought 50 students. We filled the Senate Chamber with students. We were very excited to stand up with a group of students that we loved and a program that went through was going to be the most amazing program ever. And we sat there, and people argued, and yelled, and screamed, and demeaned.

And then one side of the room got quiet, and the time ran out, and there was a motion for more time so we could continue arguing and talking about how great an event this was going to be, and how important it was to bring the black community together and really appreciate a group of people who are just so dis¬criminated against.

And they shut down debate. I thought that’s what the Senate was for, to debate issues of the day. “We’re elected officials. We’re supposed to talk about issues.” And they shut down debate. And there were so many students there who wanted to share their issues, and things that I had. Like being called the N-word on the first Welcome Week of school. And I just wanted to tell their stories, tell these elected official about their life here at Cal.

The debate was shut down, and they received, I think, $300 for their event, a total cut of about 75% cut of their money. And thankfully, the event went on, and thankfully, like I said, it was one of the best events I ever went to.

And that night I decided that I wanted to be an elected official. And I thought the Senate was such a great and important institution to be a part of, and such an opportunity for my voice to be heard, and for my community’s voice to be heard. And I won. Wasn't that exciting, it was kind of fun.

And so I went on and got to meet so many people, so many students and teachers, and so many alumni and things. And I sit here in front of you as a Senator, very excited to do my job.

I didn't realize until I started to become a Senator, and do the things that I do, that I was going to have to cope every day with this fear, this fear, again, of a loss of words. Because I’m kind of loud. I’m a singer, actually, and I know how to project my voice. And I get kind of angry. Sometime people kind of piss me off; I’m not going to lie.

But I sit there every meeting and have this fear of becoming a stereotype of this angry black woman. And sometimes it’s a joke, and we all laugh. “Oh, Ashley’s angry. Oh well, oh, oh, oh.”

But it has inhibited my job performance. That’s why I was elected for, to represent my community, to stand up and say strong, “The black community is discriminated against and we need to do something about it.”

But every time I start getting louder, I think back, that I am being seen as aggressive. I heard through the grapevine that people thought I was racist against Asians because I was aggressive, because I was loud, and because they thought I was discriminating against certain people because of my loud voice.

And I go through every day trying to represent my community in the Senate. I love it, I love my job. I love that I have the opportunity to get groups to put on events all the time and to get them to really stand up in front of the community and speak. But again, every time I stand up to speak I feel like I have to be quiet and I have to reflect, and not be angry.

This is just the world that I’ve come to live in. I’ve come to be a part of a great institution. There are pictures on the wall of past Senators, all white males, mind you, and I feel like am so lucky. Sometimes I just think, and I look at how beautiful our campus is, and I think I am so lucky to be here, to come from a neighborhood where I haven't seen anyone come out of in a long time, to come here, to this great institu¬tion, to be a Senator, one of 20 people elected by the students.

Yet, I still feel like I don't belong here. I still feel like people don't want me here, like I wasn't smart enough to get in here; I got in by some twist of luck, that someone thought, “Oh, let’s give this black girl a chance. Maybe she’ll make it, maybe she’ll better her community.” But then, I didn't belong here. And then, of course, I get angry again, and then I have to check myself and be quiet.

This may not seem like something very big to other people, like it may seem like this is just normal, like everyone goes through this. But I’ve never met anyone who’s gone through that, never met anyone who their job was to speak out, yet they have to think about how they speak every time they open their mouth. And if you meet someone else who has to go through that, send them my way, because I have some ques¬tions for them.

I really think that this is a great opportunity for students to really speak out. But just make sure you don't speak too loudly.