Diversity

#diversity #equity #inclusion #belonging #deib

At Keene State College I teach a course called Organizational Diversity.

I volunteered to teach this course because: a) teaching is the best way to learn, and b) no one else stepped forward.

This fall I attended two workshops, both led brilliantly by people of color. The first was facilitated by the Keene YMCA and led by The People’s Institute. The second was facilitated by the Endowment for Health and led by Marnita’s Table.

In both cases, the value of first-hand, in-person, experiential learning became crystal clear.

Here in Northern New England in general and in Southwestern New Hampshire in particular the demographics are dominated by the melanin-deprived. At both trainings that I attended this fall, there was significantly more diversity than what I typically encounter. And, the sessions were led by BIPOC, which added gravity and ensured authenticity.

Diversity is essential in every aspect: race/ethnicity, language, gender identity, sexual preference, religion, age, ability.

At the first training that I attended, 25% of the attendees were people of color. I note this statistic because typically the meetings that I attend have far fewer people of color, every single time. With a skilled, respectful-yet-tough-love approach, the facilitators opened my eyes to something that, in hindsight, became embarrassingly obvious: the vibe that white privilege simply sucks all the air out of the room.

One exercise in particular underscored this point.

First, the white attendees listed what we enjoy about being white, for example, we feel comfortable walking into any room, we assume that we are welcome in every circumstance, and we don’t ever have to think about being white. Then, the BIPOC attendees listed what they enjoy about being people of color, for example, food, music, dance, language, clothing styles, physical characteristics such as body shape or hair, the joy of social gatherings, and family. When the lists were put side-by-side, the differences were stark. I immediately felt a deep sense of emptiness and an immense sadness for what I have been missing.

At the second training that I attended, again, at least 25% of the attendees were people of color. Translation of meeting proceedings occurred real-time. As the skilled facilitators managed a series of “intentional social interactions” I became aware of something that, in hindsight, was obvious to the people of color but not to the people who looked like me: the realization that our community is diverse, but not integrated.

One activity in particular underscored this point.

As we organized and reorganized ourselves by various categories, for example, introverts-versus-extroverts, the lesson of one structured grouping projected itself on a banner. When we organized ourselves by our primary language, I counted at least fifteen sets of people holding signs: English, Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, German … and so forth. As I looked around the room at the groups clustered around the pre-printed signs indicating the primary language spoke, I noticed one man, standing alone, holding his hand-written sign proudly above his head: Bengali. The importance of being seen, the need to be seen, the pride of being seen, struck me hard.

I was deeply moved by these two workshops.

In my classroom, content includes both an expanded view of history as well as a review of detailed data that documents the outcomes of systemic oppression. As my own learning journey continues, I will continue to look for experiential learning opportunities for my students because these lessons are best taught viscerally.