The Importance of BIPOC Representation in Academic Spaces by Kiristen Hubbard

            “‘When there are educators who look like their students. It can provide examples of how academic success might look. As a Black educator, I can prove to my students that they are capable. I get to give them the opportunity to see how I’ve created trajectories for myself in order to achieve success academically and professionally. I want my students to expand their trajectories,’ says Shareefah Mason, a Dallas-based educator” (XQ Rethink Together, 2022).

Recently some students from the DU Graduate School of Professional Psychology (GSPP) led a march bringing awareness to the systemic issues that BIPOC students have been facing and express the frustration about the imminent departure of Black faculty members. GSPP is now losing four BIPOC faculty next month, with three of them being Black women. Campuses across the nation have been experiencing BIPOC faculty stepping down from their colleges and universities, regardless of tenure status, and taking positions at other campuses. Although their choices should be respected, it leaves marginalized students with lack of protection in classrooms. Heck, it leaves me confused about who I can go to now. So, I thought, this is the perfect time to share some thoughts about the importance of BIPOC representation within academic spaces.

Adrienne Rich said, “Invisibility is a dangerous and painful condition. … When those who have power to name and to socially construct reality choose not to see you or hear you, whether you are dark-skinned, old, disabled, female, speak with a different accent or dialect than theirs, when someone with the authority of a teacher, say, describes the world and you are not in it, there is a moment of psychic disequilibrium, as if you looked into a mirror and saw nothing.”

Prior to coming to DU, I was only aware of one person who looked like me in my field of forensic psychology. That Black woman happened to teach at DU, which is 75% of the reason why I chose to attend DU. I wanted to learn from her, have discussions about our field and its impact on marginalized communities with someone who understood on a deeper level, and honestly just soak up everything she was willing to share.

The very first time I sought advice from her, she took me to grab a smoothie and let me talk for while about what I was missing in my learning, how I was lacking a sense of community, and how I needed my identity to be incorporated in my learning more. These were things that I said to others, but when I said it to her, the message was received.

 “Emphasizing the importance of teacher diversity, TK says, ‘Every educator of color can tell you about a student from their race or identity who went to them for support, who went to them as an emotional confidant, or who found someone with whom they felt safe and comfortable. They don’t feel like they have to explain or justify themselves.’” (XQ Rethink Together, 2022). 

There was an unfortunate situation in class one day pertaining to race, ethnicity, and identity, and I remember debriefing with her and saying, “I feel like the angry Black woman in my cohort because I am bringing up these issues regarding race and ethnicity.” She smiled and said, “So what if they think you’re the angry Black girl, what’s wrong with that? You have a lot to be angry about.” That was the first time that I had ever heard anyone make being the angry Black girl a positive or justifiable title. She told me to read, Brittney Cooper’s Eloquent Rage because it would change my perspective on a few different things. She also told me that I was ahead of her when she was in my position some years ago. In that moment, I looked at her with confusion because how could I have been ahead of her? I truly admired her work and accomplishments, yet she was telling me that I was ahead of her when she was in her graduate program. When I asked her to elaborate, she mentioned that when she was going to classes, she was going with the mindset of “I’m just trying to graduate,” something many of us BIPOC students can relate to. We often go into these spaces trying to lay low because we do not want to make any waves, we try to be the more palatable BIPOC students because of the fear of seeming like we are overreacting or being told that we are wrong, or sometimes we are just plain sick and tired of having to be the educators. I often refer to this as being the Black Fairy Godmother. In short, because “I’m not just trying to graduate,” I was ahead.

These are just a couple of examples as to why representation matters. A BIPOC professor, specifically a Black woman, heard my cry for help regarding being uncomfortable in an oppressive academic space and understood where I was because she walked in my shoes before. I was not explaining myself like I had to previously because she already knew. I’m not saying that all BIPOC people who share particular identities are going to have the same experiences, because that is far from the truth. The point that I am making is that we do not have to spend a longer period of time setting the stage about our feelings or have that sense of nervousness wondering if we were complaining too much about being loud and proud, if you know what I mean.

I saw myself in someone who is doing something that I aspire to do. I saw someone that I aspired to be because she showed me that if she could, so could I. This is why having a mirror in the classroom is important. This is why having representation is important. We already know why marginalized students and faculty feel a lack of protection, so we need to be working on solutions to make academic spaces less oppressive. This starts with keeping BIPOC faculty. This starts with appreciating our BIPOC faculty. This starts with recognizing the power that BIPOC faculty have when educating BIPOC students.

Per usual, Maria will be back on Friday to share resources related to this week’s article.

 

References: https://xqsuperschool.org/rethinktogether/bipoc-teacher-representation

Picture credit: @rafekaren on Instagram and Twitter