Colin Holbrook expected Sunday’s graduation ceremony at the University of California at Merced to be a celebratory occasion.
An associate professor of cognitive and information sciences, Holbrook showed up to the School of Social Sciences, Humanities and Arts’s commencement in part to support a graduating student from his lab who would be speaking at the ceremony. But before the festivities got underway, Holbrook was asked by plainclothes police officers to leave the venue.
Holbrook says his removal came after an encounter with the University of California system’s president, Michael V. Drake, in the robing room before faculty members formed a procession. The professor approached Drake, who was serving as the commencement speaker, about the system’s response to pro-Palestinian protesters. In Holbrook’s telling, Drake became visibly upset and raised his voice; shortly thereafter, police officers removed Holbrook from the procession line and asked him to leave the premises. (Drake, who has led the system since 2020, is stepping down at the end of this academic year.)
The UC-Merced Faculty Association released a statement condemning what it called an “unwarranted, drastic step” and calling on the chancellor’s office and its Academic Senate to investigate. Both Holbrook and the faculty association said they were unsure how or by whom the decision to remove Holbrook was made.
Merced said in a statement that it was “aware of an interaction that occurred” before the ceremony. “Commencement is a time of celebration and reflection for our students, families, and campus community. Out of respect for the individuals involved, we will not be commenting further at this time,” the statement read. Both Merced and the University of California system’s Office of the President declined to comment on a detailed summary of Holbrook’s account or a list of questions from The Chronicle.
Holbrook, who is being publicly identified here for the first time, shared his account of the incident with The Chronicle. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Can you describe the scene in the robing room on Sunday?
There had been no previous announcements that President Drake was going to be speaking at the commencement, and it was a surprise to not only myself but all the faculty who I was chatting with in the robing room when he appeared. He was then introduced by our chancellor, who gave him a nice introduction, and then President Drake made a few informal remarks. And then there was an open, somewhat informal couple of minutes, as we got ready to go line up for the faculty procession out to the commencement area.
I do appreciate that President Drake has had an important role in the history of UC-Merced and been supportive of our university. It’s a really special place that’s mission is to serve underserved students. However, as much as I appreciate those contributions, ever since the overtly repressive responses to the anti-genocide protesters across the UC system, but in particular at UCLA, every other faculty member I have spoken to about the issue or who have brought it up to me has been at the minimum, concerned, if not horrified, by the use of force against the protesters, slanderous comments about them, framing them as promoting hatred and things that are factually incorrect.
I imagine you’re referring here to an incident in spring 2024, when counterprotesters took aim at a pro-Palestinian encampment on the UCLA campus, reportedly throwing objects at the encampment and inciting violence. The UCLA student newspaper reported at the time that campus police mostly stood back until Los Angeles police officers were brought in to stop the fighting.
I had appointments at UCLA as a postdoc and then a research scientist. So I was there for about seven years, give or take. When I saw the footage of the absolutely brutal treatment of the protesters last spring, it was very near where I used to go to work and where my lab was — I really couldn’t believe my eyes. I read about some of the statements that were made characterizing the encampments as inherently antisemitic, or as promoting terrorism or promoting hatred. These claims just aren’t true and seem to be there to promote a very deeply repressive narrative, arguably the culmination of which was the evening in late April when a horde of counterprotesters showed up. We’re talking about shooting fireworks, anti-bear spray, wielding pipes and baseball bats and things of this nature, and attacking a group of nonviolent protesters who were there to try to stop a genocide.
The way that UCLA, and then, by extension, the office of the president handled that circumstance was so deeply immoral in my view, and the view of the great consensus of faculty that I have interacted with across departments. I’m an associate professor for cognitive and information sciences. I interact with a broad array of researchers and scientists across many disciplines, and while they may not be vocal, they’re horrified by this, and deeply upset.
As far as I know, our chancellor and administration at Merced have been not engaging in the kinds of repressive acts that we saw at UCLA.
So you decided to express your concerns to Drake.
When I realized he was just a few feet away from me, next to the refreshments — I believe he was getting an orange juice — I guess it’s corny, but I do think there’s truth in the phrase “silence is complicity.” I felt really compelled to say something, but at the same time, I also was very cognizant of the need for respectful dialogue, and also wanting to maintain decorum in the setting that we’re in. I was aware that we didn’t have much time because we were about to go out to the procession.
So with all of that in mind, I decided I would — briefly and as politely as I possibly could, given that it’s a sensitive issue, to put it mildly — go introduce myself and just briefly relay that the faculty have concerns. I believe my exact words were, “Excuse me, President Drake, my name is Colin Holbrook, I’m a professor here, and I’d like a moment to share something with you, if that’s OK.” He shook my hand. He said OK.
The next words out of my mouth, I think verbatim, were, “I wanted to share that every faculty member I know is concerned about the repression of the anti-genocide protesters, especially at UCLA.” To be cordial and give them the benefit of the doubt, I was trying to ask a question, so what I was about to say was, “Is there anything that that you might be able to do, or the Office of the President might be able to do, to improve the situation?”
Obviously a challenging question. It’s a very sensitive issue. Drake has been widely criticized for this. But it was stated quietly; these words were intended for his ears only. I was intentionally being quiet and discreet. I didn’t want to call him out. I didn’t want to make a scene, and this was certainly not an act of protest. I felt ethically compelled to send the message that many people are very concerned.
How did Drake respond?
He cut me off when I said, “especially at UCLA,” and began becoming visibly angry immediately and saying things like, “That’s incredibly inappropriate for you to ask me this,” “How dare you bring this up now? This is not the time or the place,” “How can you think it’d be appropriate to talk to me this way?”
I answered, in as calm a way as I could, “I think it is appropriate to ask because the subject involves a genocide.” And as soon as I said the word genocide, he became even angrier and began raising his voice, repeating statements such as, “How dare you?” I believe he said, “How can you stand there and judge me?” I hadn’t actually mentioned anything about him directly; indirectly, I guess, he’s probably involved in the policy.
He became, I would say, very defensive and certainly very, very angry. He was waving his finger in my face, I wouldn’t say shouting, but certainly raising his voice quite a bit, and it made a giant scene. Suddenly, very awkwardly, the entire room was staring at the two of us.
What happened then?
I tried to assume a calm demeanor; I was hoping he could de-escalate and regain his composure. What I expected was a sort of political brush-off, to be honest. I expected maybe a comment along the lines of, “It’s an important issue, but this is not the time,” or even, “It’s an important issue, and I’d be happy to talk to you later.”
But this, I didn’t know what to do. To be honest, I was just kind of standing there. And then the chancellor intervened. I understand why he would do that, looking over and seeing a very upset UC president. He sort of stepped between us. I asked the chancellor if he would like to know what happened; the chancellor indicated he didn’t. But to be fair, I think in the moment, he just wanted to resolve whatever this unexpected source of upset was and proceed with the commencement.
Did things resolve after that?
I looked around, realized that the other faculty had already left to go to the procession. One of my colleagues from my department, who happened to be there, pointed towards the hallway and indicated that’s where I should go. I walked over to join my fellow faculty. We were all in regalia.
I told some colleagues what had happened briefly, and a few minutes went by. We moved on. I thought this strange episode was over. Then two plainclothes police officers came up, very big gentlemen in suits, and they followed us. It was unclear what they were there for. We haven’t had a security presence like that at previous commencements that I’m aware of.
After a few minutes, as we were walking towards the commencement stage, they stopped and asked me to step out of the line and they detained me, and I conveyed to them what had happened. I was very, very concerned. When they first approached, it did cross my mind that they might be there to arrest me or otherwise detain me for having inadvertently upset the president. I thought that was an outlandish idea, even in the current climate. A lot of people are concerned about academic freedom and free speech, especially around the issue of genocide in Gaza, but I really didn’t imagine that this was actually going to happen.
The police spoke to you then?
They informed me that I could not participate in the commencement; they asked me to take off the robes. They were very professional and polite all the time. I was treated very well by them. They moved me away from the venue. By the end of the interaction, they ultimately apologized. They struck me as a bit embarrassed by the whole episode. I was calm. I tried to maintain calm throughout this entire proceeding, but I was told that I could go about my business. I was not in any sort of trouble, so to speak. They said, “You cannot go into the venue.” And although they didn’t actually say these words, it was clear to me that if I did, I’d be arrested immediately.
Did the police officers identify themselves to you?
No, they didn’t right away. But I said, “Are you guys cops?” I really regret that I didn’t ask a more specific question, because I don’t know if they were UC-Merced campus police, or if they were police affiliated with the UC office of the president. They were wearing business suits and they had little lapel pins, which were police badges.
And you haven’t heard from either police or the university about any kind of disciplinary action since?
No, there’s been nothing like that.
What has the response from your colleagues been like?
A really, really great outpouring of support. These are precarious times. I’m a tenured professor, not to mention my demographic status. I’m a middle-aged white guy. I’m not as vulnerable as someone, say, who is here as a foreign national, but even for someone like me who is relatively secure, this whole experience was pretty upsetting and nerve-wracking. So it’s been honestly moving how many people have reached out to express their support.
I didn’t intend this to become public at all. I thought this would be a quiet moment, literally by the drinks right before we walked out, possibly slightly uncomfortable, but that’s it. I don’t know who decided to pull me from the ceremony or to involve the police in pulling me from the ceremony. All of that is unknown. Many of my colleagues at Merced are calling for an inquiry to find out what procedure was followed or how in the world such a thing could have happened.
It’s easy to imagine that people will just not ask the question, or not raise their hand in the town hall for fear that we’ve entered a new time in which this kind of speech is not welcome, and may be punished.
Anything else you’d like to add?
Well, I’m loath to speculate beyond what I know. But if I were to speculate, I would say that this was a mistake, possibly born of the brief time window in which this occurred. Think what you will of how President Drake has led the university, he’s incontrovertibly risen to a high position of power, and I don’t think you do that by flying off the handle in this way.
I don’t know who made decisions to involve the police or to have me removed or any of it, but I would like to think that, as academia in general, and my university in particular, that we can find a way to accommodate reasonable speech, even about an emotionally charged topic. I don’t think anyone in the university administration, the president’s office, or the president himself would have wanted this outcome.
I’ll never know why President Drake responded in the sort of volcanic way that he did, but it was certainly a surprise, and I think it caught everyone off guard. Persons unknown to me then made decisions, which I hope that they now see were mistakes, and that we can as a community figure out what happened and put guardrails in place so that faculty feel that they could speak. I’m optimistic that we can do better than this.
