Originally a comment by iknklast on If not at a Center for Ethics, then where?

The school where I did my masters slipped in my mind when they caved to the demand of a donor that they censor an art exhibit. Students being told their art couldn’t be hung because it offended someone who walked through the building with their nose in the air, holding a fistful of cash in one hand and the leash of the university administration in the other. What lessons do those students learn? They learn that they will need to conform to a lifeless, commercial art if they want the chance to be seen, to work in the field they love.

I watched our local community theatre rewriting a play to take out the parts they worried would offend the local population. I sometimes catch myself hesitating in writing my own plays, wondering, if I write this, will anyone ever put it on? When I catch myself doing that, I slap myself on the wrist, go get a cup of hot coffee, roll up my sleeves, and write what I think needs to be written. Someday I may find someone with guts enough to tackle my women of the Bible series, or my piece that spits in the eye of our local masters of the universe.

And when I teach my class, I say the word “evolution” loud and proud. I refuse to go through life with my head down just because some donor doesn’t think we should teach actual science in the science classes. I hope I have the guts to continue to do that if they threaten to fire me just a few years before I am eligible to retire.