IN THE LAST TWO YEARS, more or-
ganizations and companies have raced to create more Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives than ever before. Within each of these initiatives, mission statements can be found with language that highlights empowerment, an inclusive culture, or statements claiming that members should “feel heard and seen regardless of…”, followed by a list of every socially contentious identity and demographic. As a first-generation East Asian American, there is a sense of hope that I feel when witnessing the number of people who are willing to put in some kind of effort to educate and improve the way underrepresented and underserved communities are integrated and supported. However, with this unprecedented growth in conversations surrounding DEI, questions of authenticity are raised. Are these just words? Or will they connect to tangible actions? What portion of the nonmarginalized population will be willing to continuously educate themselves on these issues? What does it actually mean to create an equitable and inclusive environment? Do the people writing and communicating these initiatives even know? Or has it become an obligation to just care enough? What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of diversity? Ethnicity? Gender? Sexual orientation? While we are all familiar with identity on a social level, intersectional identities are something we recognize within ourselves but often ignore in others. Intersectional identities affect everything from what drives one to wear colorful makeup, how hair is styled, which languages and dialects a person employs, and the experiences that inform one’s perspective (i.e. survivors of sexual assault, abuse, or cancer.) In addition to these prominent intersections of identity, there are a host of social characteristics and identities that we all recognize but often take for granted, such as height, weight, class, and immigration status—all
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identities that impact and inform implicit biases, stereotypes, and expectations. Former Greek life member Lara Zoghi attributes the disrespect and uncooperative stance that her sorority’s recruitment advisor enforced—such as telling her to “tone down her makeup” and body-shaming girls in dresses—as reasons for her resignation from her sorority. Neither Lara, nor anyone else, should have to be a part of an organization that refuses to recognize, respect, and appreciate their identity. If the part of your identity that makes you diverse is not being included, then the organization does not deserve your presence or participation. Overlooking intersectional identities and disregarding the rhetoric surrounding them while constructing DEI initiatives will only lead to disastrous, halfbaked diversity efforts that will ultimately fail to address the harmful communication and social ignorance that is fostered in these unhealthy environments. Education and awareness on DEI issues may often come from the top down in organizations seeking to make a change, but that means nothing if those in power do not practice or enforce what they preach. A group of 20-year-olds can do little to change policy or influence organization-wide rhetoric. But an older, more experienced adult in a position of power who is tasked with creating an inviting space that mitigates the effects of microaggressions and implicit bias can much more readily create an environment that is supportive, inclusive, and diverse. DEI education should not be limited to simply forcing employees to sit in on the annual PowerPoint presentation for Black History Month, or AAPI Month, or by only acknowledging the Indigenous lands that you currently reside in. Not that these topics are not necessary to communicate, but it is crucial that a wholehearted effort is made across the board to also incorporate inclusive
