“Exclusive” is a word that has two distinct interpretations. More commonly, the idea of exclusivity is used as a marketing tool, such as an exclusive offer or system-specific video game. The effects of this definition in play are usually just annoyance or inconvenience. Overall, it’s fairly innocuous.
On the extreme end, exclusivity is a loaded and problematic term that can have big-time ethical aftermaths. We’ve all experienced exclusion based on who or what we are in some capacity: race, gender, sexuality, socioeconomic status, and even academic major.
My gut reaction to exclusion is to axe it altogether, but I know that is unrealistic and ineffective. If you look at The Stute’s infrastructure, you’ll only see an executive board as the only real vehicle of outright exclusion. Heck, even then, the e-board only leaves the room to discuss serious internal matters and leaves everything else in our public minutes.
Even in my social circles, exclusion is evident. Sometimes common interests or affiliations act as natural dividers for people, but I hate to see that. My philosophy is to include all and figure out compatibility later. Being conscious of behavior, language, inside joke usage, and other off-putting actions is important when welcoming people into an established group. As I always preface things though, “This applies to me, too.” There have certainly been times where I just wanted to stick with familiarity at the expense of inclusion. The result? Well, you can probably guess the word. Of course, exclusion isn’t always intentionally wicked, as it can be a byproduct of innocent action—an unintentional result of simply living life.
Anecdotally, this January I’m travelling outside of the country for a week with a friend. I had come to grips with myself in the summer that I was going to plan something and stick to it by any means, the result of several school breaks that I have not done much during. Toward the end of the summer, and up until a few weeks ago, I had been wavering between going and not going. The prices I had been casually monitoring were fluctuating, and even at their lowest were still a lot. Weeks before school began, I got a notification on my phone for a “low” price and happened to be talking to my friend about it. In the spur of the moment he encouraged me to go for it and said he’d commit, too. I couldn’t let the prices rise up again, which they steadily have been since, so I booked them.
Up until this point, I haven’t mentioned this to anyone. If you’ve been keeping up this piece thus far, you’ll know why. Although no one was excluded from a personal trip I wanted to take for a long time, I still don’t like the prospect of my indecision and airline ticket fluctuation to be a potential cause for some degree of exclusion: intentional, unintentional, or maybe not even applicable.
Who someone is, what they are, or where they are at a particular moment in life can drastically alter the opportunities they have access to. However, people need to be aware of what they have access to and how their words, actions, and influence can affect others. Towing the line between exclusivity and transparency is no easy affair, but the latter should always take precedence when possible. For clubs on campus, this could mean publishing bylaws or making minutes public. For me, this means evaluating a given situation before I speak or act, and thinking about my words and actions will affect others, or if they should at all.
