Last week, a Harvard student woke up to a racial slur posted on his door.

As Harvard students, we spend so much time analyzing subtle, systemic manifestations of racism that it’s easy to forget the direct, obvious, disgusting variety. Last week, we were reminded: Crude racist cruelty still exists at Harvard.

Michael Y. Cheng ’22, the target of the racist posters, has our sympathy and support. College isn’t supposed to be like this; Harvard isn’t supposed to be like this. Severely dented are illusions of an enlightened respite from the bigotry we find in the outside world. It’s particularly offensive to see these posters on the threshold of Cheng’s dorm: As college students, our dorms are our homes. A place for safety and growth, desecrated with brutal, cutting words.

The posters seem to have attacked Cheng in his role as Undergraduate Council President, complicating the aftermath. Accusing his opponents on the UC of prior harassment “influenced by anti-Asian stereotypes,” Cheng recently rejected a statement of solidarity drafted by several members of the UC. Without addressing UC politics and the competing claims at play, we support Cheng’s abstract right to reject the Council’s statement of solidarity. Surely the general autonomy which victims of racism hold in how they respond to incidents extends far enough to include Cheng’s action. That autonomy centers the victims of racist incidents when we choose how to respond; their feelings are worthy, and their experiences of fundamental importance.

That centering of the targets of racism suggests that it is a mistake to view this incident principally through the lens of UC politics. While we are shocked that our dysfunctional student government, of all things, prompted attacks of such fierce intensity, this was not primarily a reflection of the regrettable, unusual vitriol of the UC. It should not be seen primarily as a tool to moderate that vitriol, a path to enlightened unity and “cohesion,” either. Racism and racial antagonism run deeper than any internal tensions, politics, or stresses in our student organizations. Incidents like this one point to deeper problems that require deeper solutions.

We arrive at Harvard, many of us like to think, with a common understanding of the evil of racism and prejudice; we may disagree on particular applications of that principle, but the principle is supposedly shared. That complacency is misguided. We are not immune to the bias and prejudice endemic in the “real world.” We are a part of our city, our country, our world; we share in their flaws. Let this reopen our eyes. This is a Harvard problem, and more than that, it is an American problem — we should treat it as such.

When we read about anti-Asian hate in the news, we’ll now remember its explicit manifestation on our campus. When we are tempted to think of Harvard as an enlightened appendage of the world at large, we will remember that even the barest racism still manages to break through here. We will redouble our efforts to set our own house in order even as we try to change the broader world for the better.

This act was disgusting. Its execution was crude and its harms unsubtle. Ignorance feels too generous a word for an act so self-evidently wrong. Such purposeful cruelty and its perpetrators have no place on our campus.

This staff editorial solely represents the majority view of The Crimson Editorial Board. It is the product of discussions at regular Editorial Board meetings. In order to ensure the impartiality of our journalism, Crimson editors who choose to opine and vote at these meetings are not involved in the reporting of articles on similar topics.

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