It was the summer of 1995. Supreme Court Justice Steven Breyer checked his schedule for the first oral arguments of the term. They coincided with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Probably the most important holiday in the Jewish calendar. Breyer planned to stay home that day. Chief Justice William Rehnquist said no.
We don’t meet on Christmas, Breyer noted. But if the court honored this request, Rehnquist claimed, why it would have to respect the beliefs of Muslims and Buddhists, too. Breyer replied that he thought the court should respect the religious holidays of any justice. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg echoed Breyer’s request. Rehnquist refused to budge. You can listen to tapes of the arguments, he responded.
Then providence intervened. The chief justice’s ailing back started acting up. Doctors recommended surgery. He missed a meeting. The other justices postponed oral arguments.
The Rehnquist Court has not been sympathetic to minorities, religious and otherwise. During its first term, Rehnquist wrote an opinion affirming military regulations that forbade Captain Simcha Goldman, an Air Force pyschologist and rabbi, from wearing his yarmulke while on duty. During its last term, the court refused even to hear the case of Zeinab Ali, an employee of Alamo Rent-A-Car, who moved her to the back of the office because she wore a hijab, or head scarf, to work. What’s next, the back of the bus?
The most famous religious freedom case of our generation took place in Oregon. Alfred Smith, an Klamath tribe member, was fired from his state job for taking peyote as a sacrament. Oregon, represented by then-Attorney General Dave Frohnmayer, wanted only to deny Smith unemployment benefits from the state. But the court went much further and denied Smith the right to practice his religious ceremony at all.
Which brings us to the present day. On April 1, the Supreme Court began hearing oral arguments for Grutter v. Bollinger, the challenge to the University of Michigan law school’s consideration of race in admissions. The first question before it is whether diversity is a “compelling state interest.”
After reading about Goldman, Ali and Smith, my answer is absolutely yes.
Their cases show that America’s diversity makes it a challenge to govern and work together. But Breyer’s story reveals diversity may help solve these challenges.
Last fall, I sat in Constitutional Law, listening to arguments about affirmative action. Not a single black student was present. Not surprisingly, the discourse was rather dry and limited. My classmates are bright and thoughtful. But no amount of theorizing can replace the experience and perspective of minorities on laws intended to help them.
I don’t believe only minorities hold the key to certain questions. But I believe anyone who interacts with people of different backgrounds will learn more about their world and possess greater empathy for all kinds of people.
Eugene is the largest, most diverse place many students have ever lived. The University itself is a crucible that tries to emulate the diversity and cultural richness of larger cities. Those wishing to prosper on bigger stages like Portland, Seattle or San Francisco would profit from absorbing the different perspectives and experiences of their peers.
Diversity is not a magic cure, but too many people have suffered for lack of it.
Don’t just take my word. Go to the local movie theater. “Watch Rabbit-Proof Fence,” “The Quiet American” or “The Trials of Henry Kissinger.” Each historical film tells the suffering of darker-skinned people under the rule of whites who had very little knowledge of their subjects.
Is it too much to hope for diversity among the “experts” who shape foreign policy and carry out regime change? Will it take long for diversity to trickle up?
Perhaps not. On Oct. 6, 2003, the Supreme Court will not hear any oral arguments “so that Yom Kippur may be observed.” One small step for atonement, but a greater step for tolerance.