I come from many places. I was born in Colombo, Sri Lanka, and grew up in Jeddah and Yanbu, Saudi Arabia, after which my family moved to Buckingham, England, and later, Toronto. So when I arrived in Kingston in my first year, I, like most Torontonians, was struck by the relative lack of diversity on campus. If I had written the previous sentence in my first year, it would have been without that essential word “relative.”
Before I actually got here, I thought I knew what I was in for. After all, people only ever talked about diversity at Queen’s when discussing the lack thereof. So, really, I should have been prepared, but three years in a Toronto high school had spoiled me. I didn’t realize that my understanding of Canada was limited to my understanding of Toronto.
Nor was the severe culture shock that I experienced in my first year here at Queen’s unique. Those of us who arrived from cities like Toronto—places where diversity is matter of life and high schools are teeming (often uncomfortably so) hot beds of cross-cultural politics—involuntarily sucked in our breaths, confronted as we were by the fact of it: Kingston is no Toronto, and Queen’s no U of T.
Predictably, when I heard others defend Queen’s against accusations of ethnocentricity and elitism, I would narrow my eyes in angry disbelief. Much later I would realize that many of these students came from places less multicultural than Kingston. Following the same logic that had made me see Queen’s as lacking in diversity, these students felt Queen’s was surprisingly diverse. Everything is relative, and since diversity, like most things, depends more on perception than on actual fact, labels like “multicultural” are more about gradations than about the actual reality of the student body at Queen’s.
This is not to say, however, that I’ve come 180 degrees and am now content with the level of diversity at this University. Newfound insight notwithstanding, I continue to have strong objections to the idea that Queen’s is diverse enough—an idea made ludicrous when one considers that cities like Toronto, Ottawa and Montreal are mere hours away. Surely, with such cities only bus rides away, more high school students of colour should consider coming to Queen’s. That so many opt instead for universities in towns not much (if at all) more diverse than Kingston despite Queen’s outstanding academic reputation should be warning enough that Queen’s is not doing enough to improve its image among Canadian prospective students of colour.
So what is Queen’s student body like, then? How do we discuss the diversity already present without dismissing it entirely or overdoing it?
On the one hand, we have Queen’s promotional material that overflows with diversity, to the point that the university I’ve attended full-time for three years becomes unrecognizable. The current Annual Report (available online) states that “for the last several decades Queen’s has attracted far more out-of-province students than any other Ontario university.” This same report, however, carefully sidesteps the issue of Canadian diversity, by equating “students’ international experience” with “geographical and cultural diversity,” thus implying that by ensuring international enrolment, Queen’s has done everything it needs to do in of representing national diversity. This, of course, begs the question: what do international students have that makes actively attracting local high school students of colour seemingly pointless? (The easy answer is that international students pay approximately $15,000 a year in tuition and fees).
On the other hand, many Queen’s students are overly fond of making the mistake of assuming there is no ethnic diversity at all at Queen’s. We seem not to be aware that there are currently close to 40 culture-based clubs listed on the AMS website (not including faith-based clubs). There could be no demand for these clubs without the students that keep them alive. Diversification is a gradual process. The diversity that exists has to be acknowledged before you can go about actively increasing it.
We also need to accept the validity of the experiences of current students of colour and we need to reclaim our heritage. Consider this: George Elliot Clarke, a Queen’s graduate, is a best-selling author who is has both African-American and Amerindian roots.
Queen’s students need to realize that the istration, ultimately, has less control over Queen’s reputation than Queen’s students do—it is word of mouth and popular opinion that often determine the choices of prospective students.
High school students from a variety of ethnic and socio-economic groups are barred from Queen’s by a glass wall that needs to be shattered from within if any change in this University’s understanding of itself is to be realized.
All final editorial decisions are made by the Editor(s) in Chief and/or the Managing Editor. Authors should not be ed, targeted, or harassed under any circumstances. If you have any grievances with this article, please direct your comments to [email protected].