January-February 2003

State of the Profession: Discrimination, Athletics, and the Faculty Voice


College and university presidents, even when they have official faculty status, don't often attend faculty meetings. That's probably a good thing. When presidents do attend, their appearance is often the harbinger of bad news: the announcement of a financial crisis, the unveiling of yet another strategic restructuring plan, or the delivery of the latest dictum from a micromanaging board of trustees. More important, free and uninhibited debate is much more likely to occur in their absence. When the campus environment is particularly poisoned and the faculty has taken a stand not to the administration's liking, the presence of the president may be interpreted as a crude attempt to intimidate, stifle discourse, or affect the outcome of a crucial vote. Generally speaking, when the faculty meets, it's a good time for the president to be busy with other matters.

There are, of course, exceptions, and one occurred last fall at Rice University, one day after the Chronicle of Higher Education reported on an interview with Rice's head football coach, Ken Hatfield. On the topic of gay athletes, Hatfield, a member of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, is reported to have expressed concern over how team members and their parents would react if a player should go public about being homosexual. Characterizing homosexuality as a choice like drinking or going to church, Hatfield, according to the Chronicle, said that he would not necessarily throw a gay player off the football team but "probably would think hard about it."

The issue of Hatfield's comments was added to the agenda of the October 29 Rice University general faculty meeting. As reported in the Rice faculty newspaper, university president Malcolm Gillis opened the meeting with a resolute statement: "We do not have a test for sexual orientation at this university. We do not have a test for students. We do not have a test for faculty. We do not have a test for staff or any other part of the university, including athletics." And, he said, striking the podium for emphasis, "we are not going to have one, ever."

The faculty then voted to reaffirm the university's nondiscrimination policy and to repudiate "any statement by a Rice official that might seem to imply that the [u]niversity discriminates." To lend precision to its intent (and, one suspects, to add a truly academic flourish), the faculty included in its resolution the definition of "repudiate": "from repudium divorce: 1. to divorce or separate formally from; 2. to refuse to have anything to do with; 3a. to refuse to accept: esp. to reject as unauthorized or as having no binding force; 3b. to reject as untrue or unjust; 4. to refuse to acknowledge or pay." The faculty resolution passed unanimously, with Gillis, for the first time in his nearly ten years in office, exercising his right to vote as a faculty member. Hatfield committed himself to carry out the university's nondiscrimination policy "sincerely and completely," and apologized to the university and the community.

The episode at Rice prompts a few observations. First, it reveals just how discriminatory athletic culture in this country still is. Among coaches and the athletes themselves, homophobia remains a pervasive problem.

Second, it illustrates that the standard of conduct for athletics programs is all too often set by agencies outside the university. Whether the external agents be television networks, the National Collegiate Athletic Association, athletic conferences, alumni, or the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, the autonomy of the university is threatened and possibly compromised.

Finally, the actions of the Rice faculty and president give signs for hope. The faculty made it clear who is responsible for establishing policies that shape the intellectual development and personal growth of students, and for seeing that those policies are enforced with fairness and integrity. Their collective voice, expressed through a resolution of the general faculty meeting, sent an unequivocal message that the university, in whose governance the faculty play a vital role, determines how athletics and athletes will be treated. And the university president, acting both as a faculty member and as leader of the university, declared by his words and his vote that he and the faculty stand united on this issue, and that the athletics program of Rice will be fully integrated into the educational life of the institution. It shall not stand separate and apart.

Other institutions take note. Rice got it right.

Martin Snyder is AAUP director of planning and development.