“Today we celebrate the glorious variety of religious traditions in this world and the variety within each of those traditions—Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, and Christianity, which only begin to scratch the surface of the faith traditions across the globe,” said Tania Tetlow, president of Fordham, at the ceremony. “And we pay attention both to the ways that they celebrate such diversity … where they overlap, and the insights that humanity has gotten from the sacred about who we are supposed to be to each other.” 

The event featured prayers, readings, student performances, and reflections from members of the University community, similar to last year’s inaugural ceremony hosted by Campus Ministry. 

In her remarks, President Tetlow asked the audience “to remember that our lives have a purpose, that the gifts God has blessed each of us with are not for us, but to make the world a better place.” In addition, she urged all those in attendance to hold onto a key takeaway from the religions of the world. 

“The lessons that I hope that you most take from all of our religious traditions, from faith itself, is this: that you are utterly and totally loved by God, just as you are, without ever having to earn it,” she said. “And that from that strength, you will take the courage to be able to love each other well—and most of all, to find the strength to love yourself.” 

His story is now on display at Quinn Library at Fordham’s Lincoln Center campus in a new exhibit “Have a Heart: Friendship and Activism of Jesùs Lebròn.” Lebròn donated his papers, artifacts, and more to the Bronx County Historical Society Research Library, where the exhibit was first displayed. It was curated by his friend and fellow activist Brendan Fay, as well as Steven Payne, director of the Bronx County Historical Society, who received his Ph.D. at Fordham in 2019.

Professor Karina Hogan, who helped bring the exhibit to Fordham, saw it first at Bronx Community College and said seeing it and speaking to Lebròn and Fay afterwards had a huge impact on her and the development of her Religion in NYC course.

“It was transformative for me,” she said. “I thought, ‘Oh it would be so cool to try to get the exhibit here because it’s so related to what I was teaching in my class.’”

Fighting Against the Defense of Marriage Act

The exhibit tells the story of Lebròn, who was born in the South Bronx, and how his work impacted LGBTQ rights in the U.S. In 1985, he became the manager of the Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop in Greenwich Village in Manhattan, which was the first to sell LGBTQ-themed books. It was there that he met Fay, who became a friend and fellow activist in fighting for LGBTQ+ rights.

Lebròn got involved locally, starting Gay & Lesbian Advocates for Change, the first group in New York to ask political candidates about their stance on gay marriage. Following the passage of the Defense of Marriage Act in 1996, Lebròn co-founded an organization called Marriage Equality, which grew to more than 40,000 members across various states, and organized educational and political campaigns. He led all of these efforts despite being diagnosed in 1991 with AIDS, which he’s lived with ever since.

The Civil Marriage Trail

In 2003, Lebròn and Fay started the Civil Marriage Trail Project, which helped LGBTQ couples travel to Canada—and eventually Massachusetts and Connecticut—to marry where it was legal. One of the couples who used the trail was Edie Windsor and Thea Spyer. After Spyer died in 2009, Windsor’s legal efforts for her wife’s estate traveled to the Supreme Court, which ruled in her favor in United States v. Windsor in 2013. That case laid the groundwork for Obergefell v. Hodges two years later which legalized marriage equality.

Local History, National Impact

Hogan said that she hopes the exhibit will help students and community members understand the connections between local history and national impact.

“We owe a lot to these two guys, especially to Jesùs Lebròn, who was this kid who came up out of poverty in the South Bronx,” she said. “They had such a huge impact on American history and nobody even knows about it.”

The exhibit was opened at the Ignatian Q conference and will be on display at the library through the end of June.

Lien recently spoke to Fordham News in Pope Auditorium—the same space where she designed a set for a Fordham production more than a decade ago—where she reflected on her career and the semester ahead.  

How did you get into set design? 

I studied architecture as an undergrad. At that time, I didn’t know much about theater, but I was interested in thinking about space in a more conceptual and sculptural way, and then applying that framework to an architectural context that exists in real space with real people. While exploring how architecture can tell a story, I stumbled into set design. 

What is it about set design that you’re passionate about?

Set design is really central to a theater production because it establishes a physical world. You can have this world that is like a laboratory for life. It can be completely surreal or fictional. It’s a way to create really complete worlds that might be something that you haven’t encountered before, something that’s a little strange—something that moves you. 

What’s something about set design that most people don’t know about? 

One of my favorite things about being a set designer is searching for materials that suit a performance’s design objective and intention. What kind of material can create this image or illusion within the needs and confines of a theatrical stage and performance? Most of the time, those materials are not designed for how I’m going to use them, so I get endlessly amused while looking for industrial materials that were made for a different purpose. For example, I might be looking for something that’s shiny but also lightweight, or something that looks like falling ash. One time, I created a huge pile of red sweeping compound for a production of Macbeth, which represented internal organs of the body. I wanted it to be red because, obviously, there are a lot of references to blood in Macbeth! 

What brought you to Fordham? 

I’ve actually worked here before. Sixteen years ago, I designed the set for a production of Top Girls, which was directed by Erica Schmidt. But it was May Adrales, the new head of the Fordham Theatre program, who brought me in as the Denzel Washington Chair. May and I have collaborated together on a number of projects in the past. One day, she emailed me and asked if I would do it, and I thought it sounded amazing. 

What are you most excited about doing here?

Fordham has really well-rounded and solid training in theater. I’ve met alumni who studied directing, design, and production, and everyone is really well-trained and grounded with a solid foundation in theater. I’m excited to challenge the notions of what theater and performance can be and really put design forward in that conversation. It’s something that I think a lot about in my own work, and I’m excited to share that with the Fordham community. 

I just had my first class today, and my students all seem amazing. Most of them are fourth-year students, so they have already been through foundational design training, and I have a good mix of students from different disciplines. I’m excited to have people with a range of experience because what I want to focus on in my class is not so much the nuts and bolts of set design, but the conceptual ideas behind design and how we can push the envelope. I have structured my course to focus on designing for performances through a more architectural lens because that’s my background and how I have approached design. I feel like the key components of thinking about space architecturally, like scale, volume, materials, light, and sequencing of spaces, are all things that you might learn in architecture school, but they’re also totally applicable to theater design. 

For their first project, my students need to find a site on campus and then conceive of a performance that might take place in that site. So I’m also training designers to think about being conceivers of an event, too, and not necessarily responding to a script. I want to treat design as more of a holistic theater-making discipline, as opposed to, here’s where I fit into it.

What professional projects are you working on? 

I just returned yesterday from opening an opera at the San Francisco Opera, which will run for the next few weeks. It’s a new John Adams opera, Antony and Cleopatra, using the Shakespeare play as the libretto, along with a few other sources. Now I’m in the midst of finalizing the design for a new revival of Sweeney Todd on Broadway, which has just been announced. 

How do you feel when you reflect on your life’s work? 

I feel incredibly blessed, lucky, and privileged to have been able to create projects on some of the scales that I have. Every project has a whole different set of circumstances, and therefore a whole new set of things to learn about and research. I’m excited to continue working in the avenues that I have worked in, as well as revisit my architectural roots and branch out into public art projects outside the theater. But mostly, I feel like this chair is such a gift and an opportunity to give back a little bit and to share some of what I’ve learned and encountered on my journey, even though there’s still a lot to learn. 

What advice do you have for the next generation of theater makers? 

What constitutes a performance? Space, event, and spectators, but that can happen anywhere … inside a theater, but also a street. As long as you have some action that’s happening and somebody who’s watching it, it could be defined as a form of theater. But what’s amazing about theater is that anything is possible. The reason that I transitioned from architecture to theater is that in the latter world, you have the magic of illusion. You can do things like figure out how to rig a piece of concrete so that it appears to be floating. So my advice to students is to be tenacious. Pursue the impossible, because in theater, anything is possible. 

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

“Patrick was a young man, and he was full of promise,” said Joseph M. McShane, S.J., president of Fordham, in a statement emailed to the University. “He was a selfless, reliable member of the behind-the-scenes team that keeps the University running and enables the work of Jesuit education to continue, day by day.”

Howe started working at Fordham as a refrigeration engineer in 2014. He was responsible for installing and repairing heating, ventilation, air conditioning, and refrigeration systems at the Lincoln Center campus. But his knowledge of the facilities at Fordham extended beyond his usual job capacities, said his manager, Jedd Applebaum, chief engineer and associate director of facilities operations. Howe was a “jack of all trades” who could run any piece of equipment or building, said Applebaum, and one of the best engineers at Fordham. 

“When I knew he was [here], it made my life 10 times easier. If I had something going on, even my boss would say, ‘Is Pat going to be there?’” Applebaum said. “The first person we would grab was Pat.”

Howe went above and beyond his responsibilities, said Applebaum. 

“He was already an established engineer, but he was going to the next level of trying to learn the programming of our building management system, which is completely another step. He took advantage of online courses [outside of Fordham]  to learn the actual programming,” Applebaum said, noting that he wanted to be able to move up at Fordham.

Howe was not only a hard worker but also a selfless colleague, said Applebaum. During the Christmas season, he signed up for work shifts so that his colleagues with children at home could spend the holidays together, said Applebaum. He was also a smart and confident engineer who taught new employees, but never put on any airs, said Applebaum. And during the height of the pandemic, he always came into work.   

“Fordham lost someone who would be here until he retired. He loved this University,” Applebaum said. “I have a 12-year-old, and I hope he grows up like him.”

Howe was born on September 28, 1981, in Valley Stream, New York. He was raised by his parents, Patrick Howe Sr., a senior service technician who worked for a boiler control company, and Donna Howe, a retired bookkeeper, alongside his younger sister, Mary Levin. As a child, Howe was inquisitive, honest, kind, and funny, said his sister. He loved skateboarding so much that when he accidentally broke his wrist while skating, he continued to skate—and coincidentally broke his other wrist just two weeks later, said his father. 

Howe was not a big fan of school, said his mother. The only book he loved was Fight Club, a 1996 novel that was later turned into an American film, she said. (His favorite quote from Fight Club was “The things you own end up owning you,” she added.) But he was still a curious child who wanted to know everything about the world. 

“He was relentless with his questions. He would ask, ‘Why does it rain?’” his mother recalled. “Everything that he was interested in, he took to the nth degree.” 

Howe matured into a devoted son, brother, uncle, and friend who loved to be surrounded by people, said his family. His two nephews loved to wrestle with him and jump on a trampoline together, and they jokingly called him “Uncle Poopypants,” said his sister. 

His sense of humor translated to every part of his life, said his family. He was an excellent mimic who could retell stories with flawless facial expressions, and he had the ability to make people laugh, said his mother and sister. 

As an adult, he took pride in personal fitness and his tattoos, including a large koi fish on his arm. Howe was also a film buff who loved “dark” and “action-oriented” movies, including the Godfather series and Marvel and DC Universe films, said his family. He recently said that if he hadn’t become an engineer, he would’ve been a movie critic, his mother recalled. “He knew the director, he knew the way it was filmed, he knew what the ambiance was, what they were trying to say,” she said. “He was a lot deeper than most people realized.” 

Howe earned his associate’s degree in liberal arts and sciences and liberal studies from Nassau Community College in 2005. He graduated from the Turner Technical School in 2007, where he became certified in working as a refrigerating system operating engineer. 

Before he joined Fordham, he held several jobs, including a licensed maintainer at the New York Public Library, where he maintained the heating, ventilation, and air conditioning systems. 

“He stayed there for a number of years, and then he went to Fordham, which he absolutely loved. His job was very important to him,” said his mother, adding that he treasured the friendships he made there. 

“He got along with everybody,” his sister said. “He didn’t see skin color or race or ethnicity or religion. He just saw people for people, and he loved everyone—and everyone loved him.” 

Howe is survived by his mother, Donna Howe; father, Patrick Howe Sr.; younger sister, Mary Levin and her partner, David Levin; and two nephews, Dylan and Brayden. A wake will be held on Friday, April 15, at the Lieber Funeral Home located at 266 N. Central Ave., Valley Stream, New York, from 2 to 4 p.m. and 7 to 9 p.m.

—Chris Gosier contributed reporting. 

His wife, Fulvia Masi, who received her Ph.D. from the Graduate School of Education in 1987, described her husband using the title of one of his favorite books—The Passion of the Western Mind by Richard Tarnas.

“Just the title phrase says everything about my husband’s great mind,” she said.

“My husband was literally bigger than life,” she added. “He loved classical music, but also pop music … He was a great traveler—everything about him had to do with literature, music, geography, traveling, history, you name it.”

“He was an interesting guy with very interesting ideas, and he was also very brave,” said Edward J. Bristow, Ph.D., former dean of Fordham College at Lincoln Center and current professor of history at Fordham. “Bill was a private person, but once you got to know him, he was fascinating.”

Both Masi and Bristow noted Tanksley’s bravery and strength in overcoming personal tragedy—his first wife was killed in a car accident with Tanksley and their children in the car, according to Masi.

“As I got to know him, I realized how brave he really was to pull himself together and move on,” Bristow said.

Working at Fordham

Tanksley, Ph.D., was named the fourth dean of what was then the College at Lincoln Center by the University’s then-president, Joseph A. O’Hare, S.J., on July 1, 1985. He worked to build up the Lincoln Center campus at a time when it faced declining enrollment and offered no residential facilities.

Three of his biggest visions for the college were accomplished years after he left in June 1989: opening a residence hall at Lincoln Center (McMahon Hall opened in 1993); bringing business programs to the college (the Gabelli School’s Lincoln Center location opened in 2014); and improving collaboration between Rose Hill and Lincoln Center (which now enjoy many partnerships.)

During his tenure, he developed the College at Lincoln Center Advisory Board, which helped connect alumni back to the school and helped future deans develop connections in the city.

Tanksley graduated with a degree in English from Gonzaga, a Jesuit university in Washington, before earning his M.A. and Ph.D. in English and American literature at the University of Illinois. He worked at multiple colleges, including Victoria College in Melbourne, and was the director of academic affairs at Penn State before taking the job at Fordham.

An Interdisciplinary, Jesuit Purpose

When he was hired, Tanksley told The Observer that he wanted to return to a Jesuit institution “because there is a sense of purpose that I think a lot of secular institutions lack,” according to A History of Fordham College at Lincoln Center, written by Robert Grimes, S.J., former dean of the college, in 2018.

In a University viewbook published during his tenure to help increase enrollment, Tanksley described the college as “clearly in the middle of things—an engagement of time and place.”

“Our cornerstone is set in the heart of Manhattan, the energy center of the world,” he wrote. “Our curriculum is intimately plugged into the abounding sources and resources surrounding us … We have a very special structure here, inviting many new ways of making connections—linking students to each other, to the faculty…and bridging from the college to the larger dynamic community in our front yard.”

Masi said that this fit in with her husband’s personal side, which was also interdisciplinary in nature.

“We talked about music or literature—of course that was his field,” she said. “But sports—he loved to play basketball. He was also interested in watching those games on television. His favorite basketball team was definitely Gonzaga, because that was his alma mater.”

Laying the Foundation

In 1986, Tanksley hired Bristow as an associate dean of the college, a hire that Grimes noted was “an appointment the significance of which would not be fully realized for many years.”

Bristow said that Tanksley allowed him to gain a wide variety of experience and knowledge as an associate dean.

“He delegated substantial authority, and I think he hired me with the intention of working on certain things. To be associate dean in those years was really interesting—not only because of Bill’s administrative style, but because at that point the College at Lincoln Center was a very different sort of institution,” he said.

At that time, Bristow said, the campus operated pretty separately from the Rose Hill campus, and the dean was in charge of almost everything, from academics to recruiting to advertising, as well as managing both the undergraduate and adult learning program.

After Tanksley left in 1989, the University named Gerald Quinn as dean of the college. When Quinn died tragically in a car accident in 1991, Bristow took over as dean. During his tenure he oversaw the opening of a residence hall on campus, developed an honors program, and most significantly, helped create the highly regarded Bachelor of Fine Arts program with the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater.

Grimes noted in A History of Fordham College at Lincoln Center that this partnership would not have been possible without the groundwork laid by Tanksley.

“Without the contributions and encouragement of Bristow and Mort Levy, chair of the college’s Board of Advisers (both appointees of Dean Tanksley), the Ailey-Fordham collaboration may never have come to fruition,” he wrote.

Bristow agreed.

“These are people who helped subsequent deans in all sorts of interesting ways,” he said. “For example, we created the Bachelor of Fine Arts program on my watch, but I inherited Bill’s Board of Advisers and they were of immeasurable help putting the program together—they were so well connected.”

Clara Rodriguez, professor of sociology who was named to the advisory board by Tanksley, said that the group’s dedication to helping enhance Fordham College at Lincoln Center was unheard of.

“The amount of commitment, devotion, and love—I haven’t used that term very often—that the members of the board who were graduates of the college had was astounding,” she said. “I have served on many boards, and the degree of commitment that they brought to the board was always impressive.”

Writing a Love Story

Fordham would remain a part of Tanskley’s life after his deanship, not just because he remained a professor in the English department for many years, but also because it’s where he and his wife met, and where his son later attended college.

While getting her Ph.D., Masi was teaching Italian at a charter school and got an idea for an exchange program between Fordham and a university in her home country of Italy. After submitting a written proposal and discussing it with faculty members, she submitted it to Tanksley’s office.

“He said that he was busy and that he never read (the written proposal),” she recalled. “But he said, ‘Well, let’s have lunch together and we’ll talk about it, and that was the beginning.”

They kept in touch for six months primarily through letters and cards since they didn’t have time to see each other.

“I told him very bluntly, ‘I don’t have time to do this,’—I was pushing him away at the beginning. That was November,” she said with a laugh. “In April, I said, ‘OK, why don’t we see each other in person a little more?’ The first date was a car ride between Fordham and Woodstock and we decided everything—including our wedding date, July 7, 1987, and the name of our first child.”

Masi said she’s kept those letters and memories close to her heart, especially in the last year, when she became Tanksley’s full-time caregiver.

Tanksley is survived by Masi and the couple’s two children: Mosa Tanksley and William Tanskley. William Tanskley is also a Fordham alumnus, graduating from FCLC in 2010.

At a Fordham panel, a retired Central Intelligence Agency officer, a U.S. Army Special Forces officer, and an award-winning journalist shared behind-the-scenes stories from the CIA’s first post-9/11 mission to locate Al Qaeda and prevent another terrorist attack in the U.S. The panel, hosted by Fordham’s military science department at the Lincoln Center campus on Nov. 4, is part of the University and its ROTC program’s 20th anniversary commemoration of 9/11 and its legacy.

“The team is modest about this, but it’s hard to overstate the dangers they faced,” said Toby Harnden, a panelist who wrote a book on the mission. “They were a tiny group of Americans working deep in enemy territory in a very ambiguous situation.” 

Each of the panelists has a special connection to the mission. Justin Sapp, now military chief of staff to the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, was a Green Beret captain who was assigned to the team. David Tyson, a Central Asian sociologist who became a Central Asian expert for the CIA, was the team’s linguist. Harnden, a former foreign correspondent who has reported from 33 countries, wrote First Casualty: The Untold Story of the CIA Mission to Avenge 9/11 (Little, Brown and Company, 2021), which chronicles their infiltration into Taliban-controlled territory. 

Sapp and Tyson were among eight members of Team Alpha. In some contexts, they resembled a group of dads going on a fishing trip, said Harnden, showing the audience a 2001 photo of the team standing together. But their cross-section of abilities and backgrounds made them invaluable, he said. 

The team prepared for their mission with a light packing list, including night vision equipment, Soviet chest racks, and first aid pouches, said Sapp. As they approached the Afghanistan border on two U.S. Special Operations helicopters, said Sapp, he could see the lights in Uzbekistan and the moon reflecting off the Amu-Darya River. But the world beyond was nearly pitch black. 

“It was dark, except for little fires here and there. That was something stark that I’ll never forget,” Sapp said.  

After they landed in Afghanistan, there were moments of levity. The team met their new partners: ethnic Uzbek calvarymen who were fighting the Taliban and Al Qaeda. Tyson said that when they shook hands for the first time, the Uzbeks marveled at his “soft hands,” a stark difference from their calloused palms. 

The Americans joined the Uzbek men on horseback. Their journey included 10-hour rides across mountains, with only one or two breaks, said Tyson. This was a challenge for Tyson, who had only ridden ponies at a fair. He and his teammates often fell off their horses, while the Uzbek soldiers smiled, he said. 

“Here we are coming to save the world, so to speak, and we can’t even ride a horse,” Tyson said.

But for the most part, said Tyson, the atmosphere was serious and stoic—and sometimes deadly. 

In Nov. 2001, Team Alpha lost fellow CIA officer Mike Spann, the first American casualty in Afghanistan. Tyson and Spann had been gathering intel from a group of Al Qaeda prisoners—one of America’s first opportunities to extract information from men trained by Osama bin Laden, the mastermind behind 9/11—until gunfire erupted. A few prisoners had hid weapons and started an uprising. Spann was killed; Tyson managed to escape. 

“I was on autopilot mode. I went to a place I’ve never been to before and never been to since, mentally,” said Tyson, who received the Distinguished Intelligence Cross—the CIA’s highest award for valor—for his work on the mission. “There was no courage or bravery.” 

Spann is a hero, said Tyson, as are their partners in Afghanistan. Their team bonded with many people, including a commander named Abdul Rashid Dostum, and others who were killed. 

At the end of the panel, the three men reflected on how their time in Afghanistan had reshaped their view on what it means to serve their country. Sapp said that he learned to stay vigilant and learn as much as he can about the world. “As military officers, you never know where foreign policy will take you,” he said. Tyson said that good people across the world are caught in bad systems, politically and economically, that destroy them as individuals. But most Americans don’t know what that’s like. 

“I wish we Americans could transport ourselves, mentally, and see what the rest of the world experiences,” Tyson said. “At home, we’re fighting each other for all kinds of odd reasons. But we have something worth preserving and protecting in this country.”

No in-person classes will be held today, but online classes will proceed as planned. Deans and instructors may contact their students with further information about alternative arrangements for classes affected by this announcement.

Ram Van service is suspended until 7 a.m. on Wednesday, October 27. Employees who are unsure of their work status should contact their supervisors directly.

Please use caution while walking on campus, and avoid walking near or under large trees. Avoid walking through flooded areas. As few as six inches of moving water can knock a person over. Consider remaining indoors this evening and avoid traveling, since even subways can become flooded given a large volume of rain within a 24-hour period.

To prepare for possible power outages, charge cell phone batteries, gather supplies, and turn your refrigerator and freezer to a colder setting. If you lose power, items that need refrigeration will stay cooler for longer.

Local weather forecasts are imprecise, and the storm may be worse than predicted. As always, members of the University community should take local conditions into account when traveling to or from campus.

In an emergency, please call Fordham Public Safety at (718) 817-2222.

No in-person classes will be held on campus before Noon, but online classes will proceed as planned. Deans and instructors may contact their students with further information about alternative arrangements for classes affected by this announcement.

Please use caution while walking on campus, and avoid walking near or under large trees. Avoid walking through flooded areas. As few as six inches of moving water can knock a person over. Consider remaining indoors this evening and avoid traveling, since even subways can become flooded given a large volume of rain within a 24-hour period.

To prepare for possible power outages, charge cell phone batteries, gather supplies, and turn your refrigerator and freezer to a colder setting. If you lose power, items that need refrigeration will stay cooler for longer.

Local weather forecasts are imprecise, and the storm may be worse than predicted. As always, members of the University community should take local conditions into account when traveling to or from campus.

In an emergency, please call Fordham Public Safety at (718) 817-2222.

In an Oct. 6 panel discussion, four members of the Fordham community explored this answer and the evolution of their own ethnic identities. 

“We’re trying to fit a square into a round hole peg. We’re trying to find a word to name X amount of countries that have different cultures in a United States context,” said Juan Carlos Matos, assistant vice president for student affairs for diversity and inclusion, addressing an in-person audience and guests on Zoom at the Lincoln Center campus. “Folks sometimes get caught up in, well, what’s the right way? In many ways, we haven’t figured out the right way.”

Matos was joined by Tanya K. Hernández, Archibald R. Murray Professor of Law at the School of Law; Miguel García, Ph.D., assistant professor of Spanish at Fordham College at Rose Hill; and Bethany Fernández, a senior at Fordham College at Rose Hill and member of the Bronx COVID-19 Oral History Project.  

The panel began with an overview of today’s Latinx population in the U.S. According to a recent study from the Pew Research Center, Hispanics now make up more than 60 million people in the U.S.—roughly 20% of the population, said the panel moderator and Fordham’s chief diversity officer, Rafael Zapata. But it’s still difficult to pinpoint a name that describes their collective identity. 

“This has continued to evolve as American society figures out how to look at us and as we see ourselves and are changed by our migration, assimilation, integration, exclusion, and marginalization from the broader United States society and culture,” said Zapata, whose office co-hosted the panel with the Office of Multicultural Affairs. 

No ‘Win-Win’ Situation

There are many different names to describe themselves, said the panelists. In 1980, the census started using the term “Hispanic”; a decade later, the term “Latino” began to become popular, said Zapata. The two terms, which refer to descendants of Spain and its former colonies in Central and South America and the Caribbean, continue to be used interchangeably. Other terms have sprung up since then, including “Latinx,” which was designed to be a gender nonconforming word. 

But the term has received backlash because it is difficult to pronounce in Spanish and indigenous languages, said the panelists. 

“When we’re dealing with what to call ourselves, we are navigating a very complicated question,” said Fernández. “If we try to define it in terms of English or Spanish, we are dealing with languages that have been involved in the colonization of our people. In that sense, there’s not really a win-win [situation]… If that’s how someone identifies and it makes sense and it’s not harmful to anyone else who is within our realm of Latinidad, that’s fine. Because ultimately, we want people to embrace who they are.”

Fernández, who identifies as Afro Latiné, said she was more familiar with her Black roots because of her mother, who introduced her to documentaries and museums focused on their culture. But she was able to bond with her Puerto Rican heritage on car drives with her father, where they often jammed out to their favorite salsa songs. 

“He would enjoy the music and tap [the steering wheel]a little bit while we’re at the stoplight. But in those moments, while he was vibing, I was sitting down and listening to the songs and trying to figure out what they were saying, what songs I liked, and their message,” Fernández said. 

Matos, who was born in the Dominican Republic and raised in Brooklyn, said he struggled to fully embrace his Afro-Latinidad heritage when he was younger. In elementary school, he said he felt ashamed of speaking Spanish after a classmate told him, “This is America—speak American.” His parents, a Black Dominican father and a fair-skinned, biracial mother, also disapproved of his afro. 

“I definitely don’t think there was much acceptance of Blackness in my family, to this day,” Matos said. 

Authenticity & ‘Complicating the Narrative’

What’s especially problematic is when people proclaim that they are Latinx, but are clearly not, said the panelists, citing the case of Jessica Krug, a white historian who pretended to be Black and Latina for years. García said that in one of his classes, his students discussed whether or not they should police people’s identities. 

“They were very divided on the issue,” said García, who is Mexican American. “I am more interested in … What’s the political motivations that they are using to identify as Afro Latinx, Mexican American, Puerto Rican? Are they doing that to benefit themselves somehow?” 

This year, the Census Bureau showed that the number of non-Hispanic Americans who identify as multiracial jumped by 127% over the past decade. But these results don’t really show a growth in the multiracial population, said Hernández. This increase in numbers is largely facilitated by people who, in light of George Floyd’s death and the Black Lives Matter movement, don’t want to be implicated in white supremacy, she said. 

One stark example can be found in Puerto Rico, she said, where people’s selections for racial heritage drastically changed from 2010 to 2020. 

“White alone went from 75% to 17%. Demographers will let you know that is not physically possible unless you’re talking about a mass genocide. The overall number of Puerto Ricans on the island has not changed, so this shift is one of social identity construction,” said Hernández,. “The fluctuation is less about an embrace of multiraciality and much more about a mad escape from any sense of implication in whiteness as a privilege.” 

There is no checklist that defines someone as Latinx, said Matos. But if you start judging people by specific characteristics—like whether or not they speak Spanish or an indigenous language, said Matos—then you risk demoralizing people. 

“I think it’s more about being authentic, being able to complicate the narrative, and us being open to that while checking people [like Jessica Krugg],” Matos said.

“At Fordham, we don’t offer an official Korean course. But there has been this growth of interest in Korean culture and language,” said Hie-Myung Jo, Ed.D., associate director of the Institute of American Language and Culture, which hosts the workshops. “This was a good time for us to provide them that opportunity to learn.”

Two years ago, the institute received a grant from the Korean Education Center to offer a free Korean language workshop to Fordham students; in fall 2019, they held an elementary Korean language pilot workshop for about five students. The following semester, the workshop expanded to include about 15 students. When the workshop was offered for the third time in spring 2021, albeit virtually, the number of students continued to grow.  

This fall, there are now three Korean language and culture classes for more than 40 students at the Lincoln Center campus. On Wednesdays, students can attend a beginner’s Korean workshop at 1 p.m., a low intermediate Korean workshop at 10 a.m., and/or a Korean culture workshop at 4 p.m. for an hour-and-15-minute session. 

“I hope the students will become more confident about learning a new language and expand their perspective as a world citizen,” said the instructor for all three classes, Kyung Eun Lee, who has taught similar workshops at Columbia University and New York University. 

The workshops bear no credit, but they will appear on the students’ transcripts upon successful completion. More importantly, said Jo, the classes will help students learn to appreciate other languages and cultures and become global citizens. 

“One of the main purposes of these classes is to provide a fun, free, practical opportunity to learn the Korean language and explore aspects of the culture. This could be an especially good option for students who plan to study abroad in Korea and those who want to learn more about Korean heritage,” Jo said. 

Some of the students are Korean Americans who want to learn more about their heritage, like Davis Pak, a sophomore at Fordham College at Lincoln Center. He said he grew up in a household where his parents mainly spoke in English with him, but he wants to be able to communicate better with his extended family members, especially his cousins and grandparents. 

“I saw this class as an opportunity to refresh my memory and learn new words and phrases,” said Pak, whose Korean name is Saejoon. 

But most of the students are not Korean. Many of them are fans of South Korean pop culture, especially the music and dramas, who were inspired to learn the language behind the culture they love. 

“I want to learn the whole language,” said Rayne Davila, a first-year student at Fordham College at Lincoln Center. Davila is a K-pop fan who taught herself the Korean basics during the pandemic with the help of a Talk To Me in Korean workbook and routine FaceTime sessions with a friend. “I want to be able to talk fluently and go to Korea one day.” 

Tara Salem, also a first-year FCLC student, said she wants to not only visit South Korea as a tourist, but also work in the country. 

“I’m studying business, and that’s a very big field that can allow me to work abroad. I want to work in Asia at some point, so it might be good for me to have a basic understanding of the language and the culture,” said Salem, who majors in economics.

Last summer, she tried to teach herself Korean. Salem became a fan of Korean dramas during the pandemic, including popular shows like Crash Landing On You and It’s Okay to Not Be Okay, and said she wants to be able to enjoy her shows without English subtitles. 

“Everyone here is interested in Korean culture, whether it’s watching Korean dramas or listening to music,” said Salem, who plans on watching Squid Game, a South Korean dystopian show that currently holds the most-watched title on Netflix. “It’s nice to have a community in that sense.”

As you probably know, Hurricane Henri will reach the New York City area on Sunday, August 22, with thunderstorms and rain continuing into Monday, August 23. Please use caution while walking on campus, and avoid walking near or under large trees during the storm. We recommend that you stay indoors during this storm.

Stay safe and do not hesitate to call Public Safety at (718) 817-2222 to report any storm-related issues.

Sincerely,

John Carroll, Associate Vice President
Fordham Department of Public Safety