I know some of you are waiting for my conclusion on “House” and “Rambo.” Believe me, I have a lot to say about them, and you will hear about them soon. However, I have something else more relevant to discuss today: two events that went on without much attention.

On April 2, ASAA presented the panel on multicultural identity. Five students and one professor told the stories of their identity formation, struggles with the society and acceptance of who they are in the eyes of others. There were about 11 members in the audience, most of whom were the ASAA members. All the stories told by the panelists held the audience in awe through their shock, anger, sadness, strength and courage. Interestingly enough, their so-called “identity crisis” was initiated not by themselves, but by others. Why do your eyes look like that (referring to the slant Asian eyes)? What language do you really speak (a question to a fourth-generation Japanese-American)? What do you feed this baby (a question by a stranger to the mother of the panelist who was adopted from Korea)? As the panelists shared their personal experiences from their childhood to adulthood, the audience gasped with shock, anger and disbelief and was inspired by their bravery. And, of course, all that were there laughed. A lot. It was a small, yet intimate, heart-warming gathering.

On April 9, the Black Student Union hosted a symposium, “Accepting Differences.”

Representatives of students of Latin descent, international students, the majority, and students of Asian descent discussed race, culture and nationality with 25 vibrant audience members, most of whom were the BSU members. The panel focused on racial and cultural issues on Luther campus: how we have separated ourselves as “us” and as “them” in dorms, classrooms and the cafeteria, how racist behaviors and comments permeate our lives in the form of jokes and friendly banters, and how uncomfortable we are to openly talk about race and culture and diversity. The atmosphere was different from that of ASAA. The moderator had a hard time giving everyone the chance to speak as the hands were in the air almost all the time, and some even cut in line. It was obvious that everyone had something to talk about. It was a passionate discussion, to say the least.

I was amazed by the voices in both events. Not only have these students faced racist and ethnocentric episodes with pose and pride, but also they have figured out what has to be done to make changes far better than I have. We need to come together and dialogue. One of them put it quite succinctly: “I want other students here disagreeing with everybody.” The panelists and the audience know what is going on as they experience race and culture every day, and they have talked about it among themselves. A lot. The other half of their stories was missing in the talk. Those who can ask, “What did I do that offended you (despite the best intentions)?” At Luther, we talk, even brag, about how many events we offer to students, faculty and staff and the Decorah community — maybe too many to handle. We can’t let events like these two go unnoticed. When the rare voices speak up without echoes, we are setting ourselves up for the very outcome we try to avoid: silencing the rare voices.