In a Race and Ethics class here taught by Becki Scola, Ph.D., associate professor and chair of political science, one of our assignments was to watch “13th,” a documentary by Ava DuVernay analyzing the 13th Amendment and the rise of mass incarceration in the U.S.

At one point, the documentary discusses companies that have affiliations with the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC ), a legal council designed to create laws such as providing a bigger budget to businesses working in the prison system. One of the companies that has affiliations with ALEC is Aramark.

Aramark is a food service provider based in Philadelphia, and it is responsible for the food served in Campion Dining Hall at St. Joe’s. “13th” mentions how there were maggots found in the food Aramark served to prisoners in various prisons across the U.S. in 2016. This unveils a darker truth that is conveniently hidden on St. Joe’s campus.

[mks_pullquote align=”left” width=”300″ size=”24″ bg_color=”#cecece” txt_color=”#000000″]“Being with and for others does not always mean interacting with and being kind to people here, it also means standing in solidarity with companies that prioritize the basic human decency that everyone, including people in prison, deserves”[/mks_pullquote]

Why would we give money to a corporation that treats prisoners, who are mostly people of color, as if they are not human? What does that say about how we prioritize the people of color on campus?

Discovering the horrible treatment of prisoners in general coupled with the low-quality food they receive makes me think about the St. Joe’s campus. We give money to Aramark so they can provide food to this student body, but the company doesn’t use that money to improve the quality of the food served in prisons.

While we do not have maggots in our food, and the Campion food can be decent at times, that does not change the fact that we support a company that treats people like they are far from human. If we give money to a company with a shaky reputation about the treatment of people, then the magis we hold near and dear to our hearts does not mean anything.

The purpose of the Jesuit mission is to be a person with and for others. I know some of the students on this campus are willing to live out this mission for every person here, since a sizeable chunk of the student body attended the recent University Forum on diversity, equity and inclusion and understand the importance of treating all people with respect.

But I am worried that some people in our administration are not ready to make that full-fledged change. Being with and for others does not always mean interacting with and being kind to people here, it also means standing in solidarity with companies that prioritize the basic human decency that everyone, including people in prison, deserves.

I am not suggesting that we burn down the structures of this institution. I am writing this to inform people that while words matter, action unveils a deeper meaning into who we are as humans and as an institution.

We need to come together to let the administration know that they should not be supporting a company that practices unfair treatment to prisoners through the food they serve. We need to mobilize: tweet, email and inform the administration of the hidden injustice residing on campus.

I understand not everyone, particularly freshman and other students who rely on the dining hall, cannot just boycott it altogether, but we need to make noise about this.

In order to eliminate the problem of racial bias on campus, we have to do more than just implement policies, have tough conversations about race, and eliminate the use of the n-word. We have to eliminate companies and providers that do not align with Jesuit ideals.