"It's the first time ever that there’s three simultaneous exhibits for artists of color at the museum," Figueroa-Vasquez said.

But those plans did not come to fruition. 

Instead, Figueroa-Vasquez and her colleagues would become aware of closed-door discussions among university leadership that resulted in the cancellation of the public opening and changes to the exhibit. 

MSU later admitted that its decisions — which were initially mischaracterized to museum staff — were made in response to concerns over a specific artwork. 

At the center of the issue was a photograph of a 1973 Puerto Rican protest for Palestine, sparking concerns over censorship and transparency on campus. 

Changes to the event

It began on the morning of opening reception day. Artists and museum staff received an email announcing that the public event, which over 500 people had RSVP’d to, was canceled. 

The announcement said capacity issues and staffing shortages were to blame.

"Unfortunately, as we have been further evaluating the plans, staffing and continued capacity challenges, we are cancelling tonight's party," the email said. 

This disrupted the plans laid out by Figueroa-Vasquez and her team, which had flown in guests from across the country for the event. Figueroa-Vasquez had also just stepped off the plane when she received the news herself.

She was caught off guard by the last-minute cancellation of an event that had gone through months of individual approval processes. And, she suspected there was more to the story than the email led on. 

She immediately went to the art museum to meet with Broad and MSU leadership.

"They emphasized that this was not about the content of any of the exhibits," Figueroa-Vasquez said. 

In place of the meticulously planned party, the museum instead offered a soft-opening for the exhibits that only the artists, curators and their close friends could attend. 

But there was a condition: they had to use the service entrance for the museum, rather than the front door.

"We told them that it was inappropriate and that it had racist undertones, and they said that they understood, but that was what had to happen," Figueroa-Vasquez said. 

While Figueroa-Vasquez and selected guests followed the museum’s request, they noticed that the restrictions did not seem to apply to all attendees. 

"Throughout the night, I realized that other people, in particular, donors, patrons and museum board members — who were all mostly white — were allowed to come into the front doors of the museum," Figueroa-Vasquez said.

Other guests noticed it too. Kaveh Askari, an MSU professor in film studies who works in collaboration with the museum for its Broad Underground Series, attended the opening night and noticed differences in treatment as well. 

"I was made to go through the service door. Some of my colleagues weren't even allowed in," Askari said. "There was one group that was clearly sanctioned by the university administration, and they were given a warm welcome, while we had to walk past the university police car and go through the service entrance."

Despite staffing issues being the explanation provided for the event cancellation, Figueroa-Vasquez said Broad staff told her the museum had sent people home due to a surplus that evening.

"I asked them, ‘Did you send people home?’ And they said yes," she said. 

The cancellation did not just affect the artists and those who worked on the exhibit, but the community as well.

Ruth Tobar, a member of the Puerto Rican Cultural Committee of West Michigan and an MSU graduate, was planning to attend the opening. She was excited to see her culture represented in the museum’s exhibition, view the art and meet fellow Puerto Ricans.

Tobar and her guests commuted from Grand Rapids to the museum, where Tobar said she noticed a police presence upon arrival. Tobar said she was concerned and disturbed by being asked to go through the service door.

"It was kind of an indignant thing that happened, you know?" Tobar said. "Insulting."

Immediately after leaving, Tobar wrote a letter to MSU President Kevin Guskiewicz to share her experience and express disappointment.

Having to go through the side door was "a slap in the face" and "felt personal," she said. The letter also noted the perceived irony between the exhibit’s subject matter and guests’ treatment. 

"On Friday, September 13, 2024, puertorriqueños were the foreigners," Tobar wrote. "I was shocked and insulted by the treatment." 

Tobar ended the letter by reiterating that the event was unwelcoming. She requested an apology, explanation and transparency. Tobar has yet to receive a response, she said.

MSU changes its story

A few days later on Sept. 18, Figueroa-Vasquez and her co-curator, Dalina Perdomo Álvarez, were asked to attend a meeting. There, they were told that the exhibit would need to be altered in response to a complaint, Figueroa-Vasquez said. 

The complaint was in regards to a specific artwork, titled "Piquete en el capitolio." 

The piece, created by Kuwaiti-Puerto Rican artist Alia Farid, is a weaving of a historical photograph of Puerto Ricans protesting for Palestinian rights. It shows protest signs that include statements like "Justice for the Palestinians" and "Down with Zionist occupation."

Figueroa-Vasquez explained the thought process behind the piece’s inclusion. She said it shows a historical moment, “one that marks the kind of political consciousness of Puerto Rican peoples.” 

"Our policies are not only about ourselves," she said. "They're not only about Puerto Rico ... We're also tending to global issues, and that's what this piece was supposed to reflect."

The directive to alter the exhibit came from the MSU Office of the Provost. In a letter to the museum sent on Sept. 18, the university wrote that it had received a complaint about the piece.

That letter confirmed Figueroa-Vasquez’s suspicion — despite what the museum initially said, the event’s cancellation was not just a result of capacity and staffing issues. 

Instead, the letter said that the "concerns required very quick evaluations to appropriately review and discuss," which "made it necessary to reassess the event’s plans, staffing and capacity."

It also said the altered event was "the best compromise we could accomplish" while the concerns were discussed internally.

The letter did not provide details on the source of the concerns. It did, however, request that changes be made to the exhibit.

"University leadership is asking for an adaptation of the exhibition layout that can better facilitate the museum experience for all community members," the letter said. "We feel this is an important compromise given the concerns and balancing the needs for a safe, inclusive community with the university’s commitment to free speech."

Figueroa-Vasquez said that by the time the co-curators left their meeting, the exhibit had been changed. The tapestry was moved, and a sign had appeared at the exhibit’s entrance. 

"Some content in this exhibition draws connections to Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the depiction of protest signs that include controversial content," the sign read. "The views expressed by the artists, faculty and curators in this exhibition are their own and do not reflect the views or opinions of MSU."

The curators saw this as an overreach of their intellectual property. They also took offense to the signage, which Figueroa-Vasquez said they were not consulted on. 

Later that day, Figueroa-Vasquez addressed MSU administration in a post to her website. She accused the university of censoring art and political conversation, adding that the exhibit went through multiple rounds of approval by several different groups months before opening.

The statement demanded that MSU be transparent about its decision-making. And, it asked that MSU take accountability for the event’s cancellation and provide an apology for the "blatantly racist and unwelcoming atmosphere" at the reception.

Decisions fuel backlash

Tobar and the curators were not the only ones who criticized the university’s decision. Several MSU faculty members also wrote letters, including Edward Murphy, an associate professor in the history department.

Murphy is an active member of the Center for Latin American Caribbean Studies and was planning to attend the opening. He feels as though the series of decisions resulted in a lost opportunity and dismissal of a larger conversation. 

"This is not just about freedom of expression, although I think it's very much about that, but it's also about freedom of historical inquiry," Murphy said. "That is a historical document, and it underscores the fact that for a long time, there have been people who have opposed certain Israeli policies and been supportive of Palestinians."

In his letter to the university president and provost’s office, Murphy asked that the university explain and provide a justification for what had transpired. 

He received a response from the Office of the Provost on Sept. 20. 

It said, "This was a difficult decision, but necessary, in order to recognize the artists and their expression, and give the university time to adequately review aspects of the exhibition prior to mass public consumption."

Multiple student groups also took issue with MSU’s actions. 

Jesse Estrada White, a student representative with the Hurriya Coalition, said some actions from the university were unacceptable.

"We condemn all behavior of MSU administration to shut down the voices of Palestinians, whether that's student organizers or artists, their actions are unacceptable," he said.

Months prior to the exhibit going up, the curators contacted several student organizations to gauge their reactions and comfort with the exhibit and particular art by Alia Farid and received numerous statements of approval and support.

Student group Jewish Voice for Peace also released a statement in defense of the artwork. 

"As evidenced by the signs opposing Israel and Zionism in the photograph, the fight for Palestinian freedom was not, nor is it now, a fight against Judaism," the organization wrote. 

Students United for Palestinian Rights shared a similar sentiment in their statement, arguing in favor of art that depicts "shared resistance" in the “global fight against colonialism faced by indigenous people worldwide.”

The artist, Farid, told curators she now feels inclined to remove her piece from the exhibit altogether, Figueroa-Vasquez said. There are also safety concerns for her visit scheduled for the end of the month.

"Farid has requested that the piece be withdrawn from the exhibition at the MSU Broad due to their censorship, their disrespect of curatorial practices and rights, and the problematic and incendiary trigger warning they placed without consent," Figueroa-Vasquez said. "We are still discussing the matter." 

Some say they are concerned these events could set a precedent against free speech and expression on campus. 

"There is the pressure to censor an exhibit, to close an opening that's been planned for months and the influence that caused that action is anonymous, so we can't have an open discussion," Askari said. "I mean, that is a completely lopsided power dynamic in which there can't be free and open discussion." 

MSU has pushed back on accusations of censorship. In a statement, the university said it strives to foster a safe place for difficult discussions.

"The university values the ways that the arts and museums spark conversations about challenging issues; that is part of the vital role they play on our campus," university spokesperson Mark Bullion said in a statement. "We also recognize the need to balance providing a safe, inclusive environment with the university’s commitment to free speech and to promoting civil discourse around difficult conversations."

The statement continues, saying that balance is "complex" and that MSU is "committed to continuing those discussions as they are important to the fabric of a public university." 

But Figueroa-Vasquez isn’t so sure. 

"If one person (or persons) can appeal to university leadership in secret and trigger this level of censorship and we are in turn put in the position of being censored, dismissed, diminished, publicly shamed and embarrassed," she wrote in her online statement, "then there can be none of the open dialogue and communication that the MSU administration says that they so deeply desire."