When Alec Bachman '25, one of the two students on our Steering Committee shared with us a friend's e-mail to campus leadership in response to an campus-wide e-mail from President Maud S. Mandel (included below), we reached out to him and asked his permission to post it on this web-site.
With his permission we do so, posting it as he sent it, keeping the section headers and bolded words as in his original draft. We thought it was a particularly thoughtful reflection worth sharing with concerned alumni. Please read the whole thing.
Dear President Mandel, Deans, and Williams Leadership,
Following up on the recent campus-wide email about speaking up, I wanted to take this opportunity to share my perspective.
Williams changed my life. But it almost lost me.
Williams has transformed my life in ways I never imagined. I come from a low-income, working-class background, and navigating elite academic spaces was overwhelming at first. As a Latino and Indigenous student, my early years at Williams were shaped by a strong sense of that identity—but also by a deep belief that I didn’t belong here. I genuinely considered transferring, convinced that this institution wasn’t built for people like me.
What changed? The Williams Mystic program gave me the courage to step beyond the narratives I had internalized. It challenged me, pushed me, and ultimately gave me the confidence to study abroad in Vietnam, South Africa, Argentina, Mexico, Morocco, Nepal, Ecuador, and Peru—experiences that completely changed my outlook on the world. The ability to go from a working-class family with little opportunity to traveling the world through education is something I never take for granted.
But I also want to be honest about something: My early years at Williams were made harder by how I approached identity.
Identity-Affirming Spaces Should Build Bridges, Not Barriers
I worked in the Davis Center and served as a DEI intern, so I understand why identity-affirming spaces are important. They can be deeply meaningful. But they are most meaningful when they are shared.
I spent time in TAPSI housing, and I’ve seen firsthand how self-segregation reinforces a sense of alienation rather than fostering broader integration. In my early years, I believed that Williams wasn’t for me. Instead of reaching out, I withdrew into spaces that reaffirmed my feelings of exclusion. It took me years to realize that this institution was not something to be resisted, but something that I could shape and make my own.
I worked at the Stockbridge-Munsee Tribal Office as an intern. At one point, I truly believed Williams was nothing more than a colonial institution built for the exploitation of people like me. That anger felt justified. But traveling the world changed that perspective. I realized that my education here was a privilege, not a burden—that what Williams gave me, especially through experiences like Mystic, was something worth defending and improving, not rejecting.
I have been in student spaces where race and identity are actively discussed. I once inhabited these spaces freely and without discomfort—they were places where I felt like I was fighting for something meaningful. But over time, I’ve found myself increasingly uneasy with the way these conversations unfold.
I’ve sat in rooms where students write op-eds condemning Williams for racial injustice, while in the same breath, they romanticize the idea of a "pure-blood" Native American, as if Indigenous identity is only valid when it fits their expectations.
I’ve been in spaces where students call Williams a racist institution built for white people, yet at the same time make deeply condescending and racialized remarks about their own white peers. These same students who claim to be fighting for justice often engage in the very kinds of exclusion and racial essentialism that they claim to oppose.
This is what makes me uncomfortable—not because I don’t value difficult conversations, but because this kind of thinking is becoming socially acceptable at Williams.
When we allow people to preach racial justice while engaging in racial essentialism, when we allow students to claim oppression while actively stereotyping and alienating their peers, we are not fostering progress—we are creating division. And the worst part is, this isn’t even a conversation we are allowed to have openly.
When Identity Politics Undermines Inclusion
One of the clearest examples of this cultural issue happened when I served on a hiring committee for an Art History faculty position in Native American Arts.
Students were given the opportunity to interview candidates and provide feedback—something that, in theory, should have been a valuable learning experience. But instead of engaging in a fair, open-minded evaluation of the candidates, I watched students crash out and become openly discriminatory based on race.
Ironically, this approach didn’t even result in hiring an Indigenous professor. The final hire was not Indigenous, nor was he well-liked by the students who interviewed him. Instead, he was someone who knew how to maneuver academic spaces, use the right identity-based language, and play into racial politics in a way that benefited him.
This felt like the worst-case scenario for everyone—we could have hired an actual Indigenous professor, but instead, we ended up with a decision that wasn’t about representation or quality, but about identity performance.
This was one of the moments where I realized: DEI culture at Williams often ends up being about performative identity rather than actual inclusion.
How Williams Can Lead the Way
I am not advocating for the end of DEI efforts, but rather for a better way forward. Williams should be proactive in creating an equity model that prioritizes class-based access: Diverse Economic Inclusion ensures that students who truly need support—regardless of race—receive it.
Additionally, I want to emphasize the importance of preserving Williams Mystic. With financial pressures rising and an economic recession looming, programs like Mystic may face budget cuts. But this is one of the few programs that truly transforms students.
Practical Steps: Expanding Economic-Based Equity Programs
President Mandel recently pointed out that higher education is under scrutiny for its cost, its ability to communicate its value to the broader public, and its approach to inclusion and debate. The federal government has responded with punitive measures, but the best way forward isn’t reaction—it’s leadership.
I don’t see these critiques as attacks. I see them as valid concerns.
Williams is not responsible for the legal and political pressures on higher education, but it does have a responsibility to shape its own path forward. I believe Williams can be a leader in redefining what equity looks like in a way that strengthens our campus culture rather than dividing it.
Williams has already taken steps to ensure that economic disadvantage, not just race, is considered in financial aid. But there is more we can do.
For example, low-income students currently receive $925 per semester in financial assistance. With upcoming budget cuts, this support will become even more critical. A modest increase—to $1,000 per semester, or more—could help balance those cuts while ensuring that students who need financial stability can stay focused on their education.
If Williams is truly committed to equity and inclusion, then ensuring that low-income students have a stable financial foundation should be a priority.
A Call for Discussion & Leadership
I don’t expect much, but I do hope this can spark a broader conversation.
I’m happy to meet, discuss, and explore these ideas further. I want to see Williams take proactive steps toward a model of inclusion that fosters real integration and opportunity.
Final Thoughts
I want to make one thing clear: I love Williams.
This isn’t about tearing down an institution—it’s about making it even better.
I am writing this because, as President Mandel said, higher education is at a crossroads. Williams is in a position to lead.
I am the textbook case of why elite institutions matter—someone who went from poverty into a world of opportunity. Williams did not fail me. But I have seen it fail others. And it will continue to fail others unless we have open, honest conversations about campus culture and inclusion.
This is uncomfortable, yes. But if we can push through that discomfort, something far better awaits us on the other side.
Tí má (Chinantec—Thank you),Isaac Rivera
Williams Class of 2026
This is the e-mail that Isaac is responding to:
To the Williams community,
On Saturday, the New York Times editorial board published a powerful defense of American higher education, entitled, Colleges Are Under Attack. They Can Fight Back. Such a defense is urgently needed given recent governmental intervention.
The Times board focused their piece on large universities. But liberal arts colleges occupy a unique place in the educational landscape, so I want to take this moment to speak up for our schools and the people who study and work at them.
All cultures engage in teaching, learning and the transmission of knowledge. Within the diverse landscape of American higher education, liberal arts schools like Williams have developed a distinct approach that introduces students to the stunning variety and depth of human knowledge and gives them experience in extending that knowledge, while living together in a small learning community. Along the way we help them refine life and career skills like the capacity for research, data analysis, problem-solving and communication. In recent decades we have also lowered the barrier of cost and cultivated broadly diverse campuses where students can learn how to build and sustain community. The result is a comprehensive education that extends students’ intellectual, personal and career development while contributing to economic mobility and strengthening our social fabric.
Our colleges are just one type within a diverse ecosystem of educational institutions. That ecosystem depends for its vitality on a three-way partnership among schools, government and the general public. Even at Williams, where we benefit from strong alumni philanthropy and careful endowment management, we still depend on federal agencies for various forms of funding, data and regulatory guidance. Likewise, we depend on the public for their goodwill, political support and of course the tremendous vote of confidence implicit in the process of applying to and paying for college.
Right now, the partnership is frayed. Critics have alleged that higher education has failed to translate our work for broad audiences; been intolerant of uncensored debate and broad inclusion; and outpriced most families. The federal government, for its part, has taken a punitive approach to some of these concerns.
As a liberal arts college president and professor, my first inclination in the face of most challenges at Williams is to bring together people of diverse perspectives and try to solve the issues collaboratively. As we often remind our students, progress requires first getting everyone around the table. In ideal circumstances, educators and government officials would work together to strengthen our institutions of learning. We are far from that ideal.
Here, then, is a summary of what we in the college leadership are doing to support Williams, higher education and our people, and how you can help.
In terms of college actions, I have convened working groups to track federal actions in the areas of civil rights, immigration and finance (including proposals that seek to increase the tax on endowments), and to propose mitigation and protective strategies that Williams could employ if needed. Members of these groups are also working to provide information to community members about the law and available resources.
Beyond campus, meanwhile, Williams is involved in higher education advocacy efforts through consortia including the American Council on Education (ACE), the National Association of Independent Colleges and Universities (NAICU) and the Association of Independent Colleges and Universities in Massachusetts (AICUM). As I mentioned in my start of semester message, I recently joined a delegation of higher ed presidents on a NAICU-sponsored trip to Washington, where my colleagues and I met with legislators and their staff to explain the importance of a diverse, robust and intellectually independent American higher education system. I plan to attend several more such convenings later this semester. Williams has also joined a group of liberal arts schools partnering to educate political leaders about the value of our educational model.
We will continue expanding these efforts in order to meet emerging needs and challenges. But college and university leaders are unlikely to have an immediate impact on federal policies by ourselves. We need the support of our wider communities, since we are stronger together.
There are two important ways in which you can help. First, join campus efforts, when you hear about them, to support people affected by government actions. The desire to care for each other is one of the great strengths of our community. My thanks go out to all of you who are supporting one another in challenging times.
Second, please help us build appreciation for higher education. Talk to everyone you know about the benefits of studying here. Student, faculty and staff views are all important. I often say we have a multivocal community, and people’s perspectives will vary: all I ask is that you decide what you think matters about Williams and places like it, and then share those views widely. Some of you may also want to write op-eds, join coalitions or contact your legislators (we have heard that calling is considerably more effective than email). There are many ways to add your voice: what is most important is that each of us speak up for the value of education and research and why these practices matter.
Education is the promise of our future. It is the way we cultivate our humanity and try to solve society’s problems. It is also the heart of what unites us at Williams. Let us work together to protect it.
Maud