Editor’s Note: The perspectives and opinions printed in this Letter to the Editor are the views and statements of the author(s) and do not necessarily represent the positions of Portland State Vanguard or its editorial staff. Some claims have not been independently verified by PSU Vanguard.
Every university in Gaza has been destroyed. Think about that. Every. Single. One.
In the face of this devastation, what are we doing here at Portland State University—an institution that claims to value education, equity, and social justice? What are you doing?
I recently lost my job—not for any legal wrongdoing or breach of contract—but because I refused to stay silent in the face of genocide. I don’t share this for sympathy; I share it because I want you to understand the stakes. Palestinians are being bombed in their homes, starved in refugee camps, murdered in classrooms, and burned alive outside of hospitals. And here, at our university, the repression may look different, but it is no less a part of the same system: silence, complicity, and putting profit over people—whether through ties to war profiteers, real estate development, or the capitalist structures that devalue human life and dignity.
We are told to stay in our lanes, to be “professional,” and to avoid “controversy.” But there is nothing controversial about opposing genocide. There is nothing radical about saying Palestinian lives matter. We must refuse to let our workplaces become sanitized sites of complicity in the name of “neutrality.”
For years, the PSU community has called for divestment and to cut ties with war profiteer Boeing, which fuels Israel’s brutal campaign against Palestinian life. President Ann Cudd disregards the calls for divestment with the claim that PSU is not financially invested in the company. But, with PSU’s “special hiring relationship” with Boeing, we funnel our students as laborers into the war machine. That is PSU’s investment, its students.
Last spring, Cudd canceled the promised open forum on Boeing, sidelining student and worker voices while posturing as responsive. Meanwhile, Palestinian students, faculty, and staff walk our campus in grief, burdened by the weight of a catastrophe that is being intentionally silenced. The genocide gets more dire with each passing day, yet Gazans are left to wonder if anyone sees their suffering. It is our students—and students worldwide—who have shown Palestinians that they are not forgotten.
Last fall, Students for Justice in Palestine called for a “Week of Rage” at college campuses, marking one year of genocide. I joined other members of the PSU Disarm and Divest Coalition—a coalition of students, staff, and faculty—in a hunger strike.
We’ve called for transparency, accountability, and divestment. Our demands have been met with silence, obfuscation, and ultimately repression.
Now is not the time to slow down or give up. I am asking my colleagues—all faculty, staff, administrators, and fellow workers—to understand that your job security is a small price to pay compared to what has been lost in Gaza. Every university there has been obliterated. Think of what that means. And then ask yourself: What am I willing to risk to stop this?
I risked my job. And while I am heartbroken to lose this role that allowed me to support students, build feminist leadership, and foster spaces on campus where critical thought and collective action can thrive—I am okay. Nothing, including maintaining a job I love, is more important to me than standing up for what is right. Audre Lorde has taught me that my silence will not protect me. None of us are safe in a world where genocide is allowed.
If you are not a part of organizing yet, start today. There are many of us. I have been an active member of PSU Faculty and Staff for Justice in Palestine. This politicized cadre has been a bastion of hope, camaraderie, and action in these times of hopelessness and disconnect. The university administration wants you to feel alone. You are not. Find your people. Take risks together and take care of each other. The university will move quickly and quietly to remove people. We should all be watching out for big changes to resource centers or people who are suddenly no longer employed.
My call to action remains the same. The time to act is now.
For Gaza. For justice. For the future of education everywhere.
In solidarity,
Nic Francisco-Kaho’onei, PhD
Former Director of the Women’s Resource Center, Portland State University, Active Member of PSU Disarm & Divest Coalition, and Faculty & Staff for Justice in Palestine
