Throughout my entire higher education career I have prided myself on being an African American, a female, and an engineer. As my classes became less and less diverse with people who could meet me at any intersection of my identity, I began to feel even more empowered. The fact that I was the only one, or one of few made me realize that the work that I was doing was not in vain, and that I should continue to push forward toward my goal of being a full time engineering faculty member. There were only two faculty members who looked like me as I went through my engineering programs, and while it was enough to keep me in engineering, it wasn’t enough for my peers who left after our first year.
Fast forward to be a current graduate student and an instructor of record for a freshmen engineering course. Never to my surprise do I have 1 or none African American students in my section (they do exist I’ve just taught few because there’s about 60 sections of the same course). I find solace in the increased number of women that I get to teach. But as events of social tensions and politics continue to be more prevelant on the news and on social media, for once the thing that I’ve prided myself on so much is becoming a burden that I never expected to carry. Now don’t get me wrong – I am still very much proud to be an African American female in my white male dominated field. But when the only person “presumably” dealing with the issues happening in our country is the person leading the class (i.e. Me), I find it hard to offer my support without seeming like I’m pushing some sort of racial or political agenda. That by even opening myself up for support, I may also be opening myself up to ridicule and possibly worse things due to my perceived stance based on my willingness to “be there”for my students.
So I remain silent. Business as usual. Can’t call in black when you’re the only black person AND you’re the instructor. And I feel torn. Torn because I don’t want to act like I don’t care. I don’t want my students to think that they can’t talk about the reality they’re living – engineering aside. But if there’s ever a time you’re more aware of being a minority, it’s definitely when you’re literally the only one. I want my students to feel safe but I don’t want to derail learning because of the real possibility that I have different political views than one of my students, and if that information gets revealed, our perceptions of each other may distract us from the real goal. This is just the beginning of many dilemmas I may face for these exact same reasons.
I read an article by Huffington Post this morning that talks about wearing a safety pin to silently indicate that you’re in solidarity with those who feel marginalized by recent events, an act that is inspired by the same feelings being felt by citizens of the UK after #Brexit this summer. And to be quite honest, it’s a genius move. As I continuously contemplate how to convey to my students that I care without inviting possible negativity into the classroom, I now know that I need to whip out my box of safety pins. As a future faculty member with my identification, I know that I will be more than just an instructor for some students. And I’m perfectly okay with that added responsibility. However, I also want to make sure that I and my students are safe when discussing issues that goes beyond our engineering coursework.
Wow Racheida, great post. I thank you for your truthful and concise words. I know I am a littttttttttle behind on commenting, but I took this time to reflect on blogs revolving around the movie event from a few weeks ago. I am not sure if that is what motivated your blog, but I truly appreciate your ‘minority report’.
Great post!
I agree the Wednesday after was a weird day, and wasn/t sure how to go about it to some extent. I chose to read aloud an email sent to our department head regarding support for those who felt they needed it at any point (re: special cultural/international groups on campus) and talk honestly about how it was a weird day, before moving on to the lesson at hand. But as you write, you want to make sure to create a safe environment to talk about out-of-class content/topics, which I agree is important.
Also, as a minority living in Blacksburg, I empathize with feeling as though you are speaking for more than just yourself (or being interpreted that way by others). I know its hard and I know it sucks, but having strong individuals willing to speak their mind regardless of consequence seems like a (difficult, but) important first step.
Hi Racheida,
I just want to say that I deeply appreciate the perspective and openness you bring to this class and to academia. I’m not in your field, but I know that you are inspiring to your students who need to know that their demographics can’t define their success.
Aww thank you so much! <3
I also did not talk much about the election the morning after it happened, by the time I went to teach, VT had sent out the note about what offices were available for students to use if they needed to, and I pointed my students to the resources available on my syllabus. To add to that, I simply did not know what to say, and I do have some students in my class who were probably happy with the outcome of the election and I was not in the mood to hear what they had to say. #SorryNotSorry Plus, with 3 weeks of the semester left, I am too tired to get into a power struggle with these students.
I am also careful not to do too much “emotional labor” for students when I teach. As women, we are stereotyped as always available to help, to listen, to solve students problems in ways that men are not. I never want to live up to that stereotype, especially because I’m not a trained counselor. If students have questions about my class, or topics related to it then sure, we can talk – in my office, during office hours or at another time if you’ve emailed me to make an appointment.
I understand where you’re coming from as a fellow woman in engineering. As a minority however, I have the privilege of having this Edward Cullen vampire skin thing going on and my sexual orientation tends to take a backseat until I start talking about how awesome my wife is. There is no way for me to understand your struggle fully, but I empathize with you deeply.
I wish I had been more available to discuss this in class on Wednesday, but emotionally I was not in the place to offer any sort of advice. I want to encourage you to not cater to the majority in times like this. As you may know, white engineers are among the most privileged students in this university (or anywhere tbh). I care about all of my students, but when there is police brutality or when a fascist sweet potato wins the electoral college I feel like it’s far more important to create an opportunity for dialogue for those who need it than be overly considerate of those who will roll their eyes.
As far as derailing learning, this is a different kind of learning. This is a life lesson. White people need more of this kind of learning. We are straight up ignorant when it comes to the experiences of others. Some people literally do not get it. I’ve suggested to some people who didn’t want to have the discussion in class to open up the possibility of office hours or hanging out after class. Just saying, “Hey, I’m here if anyone needs to talk” can go a long way. Treating your office as a brave space (kind of like a safe space but different) is probably what you need.
You will be a great mentor and instructor. You have compassion, tenacity, and sass, not to mention a phenomenal ability to articulate your point; when you speak, people listen. You are a valued member of our GEDI and Virginia Tech community and I am really glad to have met you. If you ever need to talk about anything I’m here for you (and I mean that).