There’s this story about University of North Carolina Asheville’s move to maintain “institutional neutrality” and the shock-horror of students at such a move. So far so predictable.

What I wonder about is how students choose which banners to defend.

Since University of North Carolina Asheville students began protesting against the war in Gaza in early May, Chancellor Kimberly van Noort has maintained that the university should avoid an official stance on the matter.

“Neither the University nor I, the chancellor, should interfere by taking an official stance,” van Noort wrote in a public update to students and faculty earlier this month. “Institutional neutrality promotes the open exchange of ideas and avoids inhibiting scholarship, creativity, and expression. Compromising this position carries great risks.”

Her adherence to institutional neutrality mirrors other universities’ stances across the country, which have experienced growing protests in the past few weeks. Institutional neutrality also has been applied to other cultural issues on campus, including the Ramsey Library display of Black Lives Matter, Cherokee land acknowledgement, and LGBTQ+ banners – and comes at a time when the university system’s Board of Governors is considering removing Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion positions and offices across the system. 

What I wonder is why the library display was about Black Lives Matter, Cherokee land acknowledgement, and LGBTQ+. Only. What I wonder is why such displays are never, ever about women anymore. What I wonder is when it was decided, and who decided, that women are no longer treated or viewed as inferior or subordinate, and have instead joined the ranks of the oppressors aka the ruling class.

Senior Allie Daum said the university’s approach to the protests and removal of the banners “speaks to a very much larger issue going on with the anti-DEI policies that we’re seeing getting pushed and general changes to our institution that I find concerning because this has been a safe space for me as a queer person.”

Can women say as much? Women who don’t claim to be “a queer person”? Is calling yourself “a queer person” now the only way women can advocate for their rights?