Recently, a dining-hall manager in the Winthrop/Lowell House kitchen called two female workers lesbians, using the term in a derogatory manner to accuse them of talking to each other too much. This entirely unacceptable incident is, unfortunately, only one instance of a much larger trend of discrimination and intimidation at Harvard. Aside from the immediate implications for the individuals involved in this dining hall incident, the event has revealed how uncomfortable and intimidating the Harvard workplace has become for people who identify as minorities.

Incidents such as this one are especially frightening given the current economic climate. Millions of people across the country and around the world already fear for their job security, and, as the university tightens its budget, Harvard employees are no exception. Although fear of unemployment is in many ways inevitable in this depression, no one should feel that their identity—sexual, political, religious, or otherwise—must remain closeted in order to protect their job. We cannot allow this archaic atmosphere of discrimination to exist in the Harvard community, especially not during this critical period of economic turmoil.

Although Harvard undergraduates are protected against discrimination in the non-discrimination clause of the undergraduate handbook, we do not promise these rights to all Harvard employees who are an integral and vital part of our community. Though the current contract for dining-hall workers includes anti-discrimination language, it is not as strong as the language for students, nor does it outline any mechanism of action to take when an offense occurs. On the other hand, the undergraduate handbook outlines the course of action for students in instances of discrimination. This discrepancy becomes apparent when workers, such as the two in Winthrop/Lowell, feel like the target of discrimination but have no guaranteed recourse of action.

A university that promises different sorts of “equality” to students and workers is not offering equality at all. Promising rights to half of the community and denying them to others creates an atmosphere that engenders this kind of abuse—allowing homophobia to grow in what is supposedly a safe space. This is especially disappointing considering past efforts to guarantee a workplace free of verbal harassment and intimidation at Harvard. In the late 1980s, Harvard dining-hall workers fought to gain strong anti-discrimination language in their contracts. This progressive victory in the 1980s should have been enough to ensure that no Harvard student or employee is ever called, for instance, a lesbian in an insulting way without consequences for the offender. Yet clearly the language was not strong enough, and perhaps language itself is not even enough.

The fact that one brave dining-hall worker had to stand in front of students last Thursday night as a representative of those who felt too threatened to be there otherwise was shocking. He told us that when people are already afraid of losing their jobs in this harsh economy, Harvard’s service workers feel as though they must keep quiet about their beliefs or closeted about their sexuality in front of their managers.

This appalling atmosphere that Harvard has generated and funded has demonstrated that more than just stronger language is needed. Given that this offense in Winthrop/Lowell is just one of many that has been feeding into a hostile work environment for Harvard janitors and dining-hall workers, something must be changed. Not only should the manager who verbally abused these women make a public apology and face the consequences of his words, but Harvard should also look for a change in leadership if those in power do not make an effort to change the culture of their workplace.

Managers should all take courses on how to create a respectful work environment and, in some cases, enroll in anger-management programs. In addition, there should be a way to keep managers accountable to their workers. We should make workers’ opinions public to students so that we can know when people in our dining halls feel disrespected as women, feel that they cannot wear the veil, feel that they cannot speak unless spoken to.

If workers fear that speaking out against discrimination will put their jobs at risk, then we as students have the responsibility to speak. We should not have to take drastic action, because Harvard should listen to us and should listen to its employees. Even the busiest student can take five minutes out of the day to show support for our staff. Dining-hall feedback cards are meant for our opinions—share yours. People are wearing rainbow ribbons to show their support—wear one.

And, if it becomes necessary, we can protest. As Student Labor Action Movement representative Alyssa Aguilera ’09 pointed out, “As students, we can yell outside Holyoke Center, and we’re not going to get kicked out of Harvard.” But regardless of whether we shout at the Holyoke Center or show silent support with our rainbow ribbons, we must defend the rights of the whole community, a community that includes more than just students.


Megan A. Shutzer ’10, a Crimson editorial writer, is a social studies concentrator in Dudley House.