Open a map or walk through downtown New Haven and observe the roads that crisscross Yale University: Church Street, Chapel Street, Temple Street.  These names undoubtedly refer to the Christian spirit of the university’s founders.  Indeed, the official history of the university as recorded on the central website reads: “Yale’s roots can be traced back to the 1640s, when colonial clergymen led an effort to establish a college in New Haven to preserve the tradition of European liberal education in the New World.  This vision was fulfilled in 1701, when the charter was granted for a school “wherein Youth may be instructed in the Arts and Sciences [and] through the blessing of Almighty God may be fitted for Publick employment both in Church and Civil State.”  In 1718 the school was renamed “Yale College” in gratitude to the Welsh merchant Elihu Yale, who had donated the proceeds from the sale of nine bales of goods together with 417 books and a portrait of King George I.”  The emphasis on “colonial clergymen” is notable, as is the blessing of Almighty God for employment in the Church.  The Judeo-Christian symbolism of Yale is further represented through its motto in Hebrew script and the presence of Battell Chapel, Saint Thomas More Chapel, and Hillel in the environs of campus.

In fact, only recently did Yale University consciously adopt a secular framework.  The New York Times reported that Yale University ended its 248-year old affiliation with United Church of Christ in 2005, prompting a range of emotions from indifference to indignation (http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/12/nyregion/12yale.html).  Certain vestiges of religiosity remain: the Semitic prayers of Commencement, the presence of religious organizations with sizable congregations around campus (including the United Church of Christ and Hillel), and the office of the University Chaplain.

At a recent monthly meeting of allied religious organizations, a number of people voiced the interesting tension between acknowledging the Christian heritage of the University and considering newer religions weaved within the campus tapestry.  As an academic psychiatrist and specialist in South Asian religions, I’ve spent my entire adult life – for better or worse – ensconced in university campuses, and I’ve always been struck by the sheer numbers of Christian denominations on campuses.  At this meeting, however, a number of Christian clergy lamented how they feel like minorities given the ascendancy of interest groups previously disenfranchised: those with alternative sexual orientations, racial heritages, and spiritual beliefs counter to the previous norm.  To be fair, no one decried these new groups, but they emphasized how the monolithic unity of Christianity had fractured – it was inaccurate now to speak of a single Christianity instead of many Christianities.  No one articulated this directly, but the white males stereotypically associated with the Ivy – or mainstream – America felt threatened.

They need not be.  American higher education has only begun its serenade of minority religions.  Hindus and Sikhs – as well as Zorastrians, Bahais and newer groups – simply do not possess the historical resources or immense treasuries of Protestants, Catholics, and Jews.  A University Mandir of University Gurudwara would be inconceivable at Harvard, Yale, or other universities where I have been affiliated.  Without the sustained financial support or a committed group of religious officials pledged to student life, adherents of minority religions on university campuses often struggle to develop the same type of campus programs: celebrations of holidays on grand scales, dedicated speaker bureaus, and regular services for worship.

I don’t suspect that adherents of newer religions can ever achieve the parity of presence on campus, and that even the most successful attempts will be asymptotic.  Many Protestants, Catholics, and Jews toiled to erect buildings and establish influence with university administrators over decades.  For real change to occur, Hindus, Sikhs, and others need to replicate these models.  We should ask ourselves whether our religious needs are currently fulfilled on campuses across the country.  If not, then the onus of raising funds to nurture our spiritual lives rests upon us.  There are clear instances when I believe that the University should not discriminate: if Jews, Christians, and Muslims are provided prayer spaces, Hindus should also receive one.  However, many Semitic communities receive donations from alumni who have determined to fill gaps for their communities.  In a time of financial shortfall across the country, they can supplement University funds with internal financial campaigns.  Despite a small Hindu presence for the past two decades at Yale, only recently have the Hindu students begun to mobilize as a community with a greater awareness of their identity.  However, the Hindu alumni have decided – for whatever reason – not to make this a central concern in giving back to the university.  It is time for Hindus, Sikhs, and other minority groups who care about representation on college campuses to actively deliberate ways over fostering identity through alumni networks and national campaigns.  Maybe then can there be a time when our children will walk through downtown New Haven and see signs like Dharamshala Road and Mandir Street.