Your Favorite DEI Hire

In the midst of the Trump administration rolling back DEI initiatives, I’m going to shed some light on my experiences as a mixed Black woman. DEI makes a way for me to thrive and survive in spaces that weren’t created with people like me in mind. 

I can’t count on my fingers and toes the amount of times I’ve been the only Black person in the room, and even more specifically the only Black woman. This sentence alone can justify the need for DEI and representation. DEI initiatives don’t just make me more comfortable, they make me feel safe and heard. 

The people that understand and can reason with why representation is needed are the ones that have gone without it. White people never have to worry about having role models to look up to within their represpective careers, ambitions, dreams and spaces in general.  

Coming from a predominantly Black elementary school, I was immersed in an environment where representation was not only present, it was celebrated. My elementary school was unapologetically Black, creating a space where students saw themselves reflected in the staff, the curriculum, and the community. We had ceremonies and projects dedicated to Black History Month, most of the staff was Black, all the surrounding neighborhoods zoned for that school were Black, and lessons that went beyond the standard curriculum. It wasn’t until I left that space that I realized how rare and valuable that experience was.

Experiences like mine make it more important than ever for girls that look like me to have representation. In the HF chapter, “Education” Kendall said, “I was surrounded by Black teachers who saw me as not only someone with potential, but someone that deserved a second chance.” This is exactly how I felt at my elementary school, I was uplifted by the Black role models I had as educators. 

I had a huge shift in middle school when I went from being one of many Black people in a room to one of maybe three. This didn’t really bother me until I started hearing the n-word coming from white classmates’ mouths, being called “white-washed,” and being told “well you’re not REALLY Black, you’re different!” I even started straightening my hair everyday just to be like the white girls. It got to a point where I wished I were white. 

When I transitioned to high school, I finally decided I’d be proud of my race and stop trying to fit into everyone else’s idea of what being Black means. There’s no one size fits all approach to being Black. I can’t say I would’ve been able to bounce back from my identity struggles in middle school if I didn’t have that representation and cultural affirmation at a young age. 

Now, as I am attending JMU, at a PWI that just recently dissolved their DEI division like many others in the state and across the country, I’m confronted with a harsh reality that there’s so much work to still be done with building inclusive spaces. Divisions for DEI provide not only programming, but protection. Dismantling these programs sends a strong message that inclusion is optional. 

DEI is more than making sure there’s people of color in the room or a part of the conversation. It’s about challenging those biases and ideas of what is thought of as the “norm.” Black voices must continue to demand the space we deserve. 

My experience is a reminder of what happens in the absence of representation and why DEI isn’t just a buzzword, it’s a necessary commitment to affirming the dignity and identity of every individual.