Few phrases expose the structural imbalance of power in academia—and obliviousness to it—like “My door is always open.” It has several variations, including surprise, or even indignation, for instance when news breaks of a complaint or scandal: “But, my door was always open!” The reconciling approach: “From now on, my door is always open.” And, of course, cynicism: “Well, my door is always open,” with its variant, “Well, my door is always open.” Rest assured, your needs will get the attention they deserve.
I am fortunate to know many people who use the expression with genuine concern for others’ wellbeing, especially that of students and junior colleagues. However, their open-door-ism all too often rests on a false assumption, namely that any open door is an inviting one. Publicizing your open door and leaving it at that ignores entrenched hierarchies, racism and sexism in academia by suggesting—wrongly—that we all walk through life in the same way. It asks people—misleadingly—to just pick a door, any door, convinced that neutral space lies behind it.
But an open door alone does not an ally make. To many who are in distress and who feel voiceless and vulnerable, knocking on another, especially senior, person’s door can be an immense psychological barrier to overcome. After perhaps a lifetime’s worth of discrimination, one’s path to approaching such a door is seldom paved, let alone clear of obstacles. Believing that someone behind it may be an ally stems from a combination of individual experiences that are hard, if not impossible, to anticipate.
“My door is always open” offers at best an insufficient solution. At worst, it’s a paternalistic, self-exculpating phrase and just as often is (and can certainly be seen) as blaming the victim. To get a sense of how it resonates among a large group of people, let’s unpack the phrase:
“My”—Already indicating ownership and control. Feel free to call/email/come to me, to my office, and take up my time with your problems.
“Door”—At best, a passive barrier. And once again, I’m the one who opened it for you. When I’m not there, it closed.
“Always”— Yes, I’m definitely sitting there right now waiting for someone’s emotional baggage to be dropped off without a prior appointment.
“Open”—Ajar, gaping, unlocked? Just knock and see: What’s behind my door? And in what mood am I?
“My door is always open” is a phrase that flatters you, the speaker, rather than genuinely considers the needs of a would-be knocker. Of someone in pain. It’s saying, “Why didn’t you come see me?” Well, my feet have failed me. Why? Because, if you’re a senior colleague, and I’ve just been intimidated by another senior colleague, or a man, or a white person, or an able-bodied person, or someone else with structural privilege from my perspective, my tendency will not be to approach the same sort of person, as I perceive it, who has just caused me pain.
So, let’s make a small step towards understanding the architecture of the metaphorical door: Even when it’s wide open, a door can have a high threshold and a scary landing. And that’s why, in a hierarchical organization such as a university, monitors whose independence is contractually assured and procedures are transparent to the academic community, is the best path to follow. When students go to the press, or colleagues hire lawyers, our response should not be: “But our door was open all this time!” Instead, let’s try, “What is wrong, what have we been missing, and how can we address it?”