reading From Equity Talk to Equity Walk

Posted on August 1, 2022 Updated on August 2, 2022

I read way more than I can remember, and sometimes I want to slow down and write down some important, illuminating, or reflective kinds of things from what I read. So here goes.

Somewhere or another I saw someone recommend From Equity Talk to Equity Walk: Expanding Practitioner Knowledge for Racial Justice in Higher Education by Tia Brown McNair, Estela Mara Bensimon, and Lindsey Malcolm-Piqueux (Josses-Bass, 2020) so I ordered it through interlibrary loan at my university library.

I read the first three chapters and the book is already overdue, but it’s okay, I can pause here. I already have plenty to write about.

Laurie before opening the book

Without going into a lot of detail, I would say I’m better than the average white American academic when it comes to anti-racist practices and attention to diversity, equity, and inclusion. My feminist research and teaching has helped me think through issues of intersectionality, I consistently engage in opportunities to learn more, and my overall orientation leans into social and environmental justice (while acknowledging that these are intertwined). I also get involved in campus work that explicitly aims to analyze and shift systems that contribute to inequity.

And, in the next breath, I will tell you how much I suck, how overwhelming I find it to articulate ideas myself even when I appreciate how others clarify and prioritize and offer useful frameworks, and how I still regularly get nervous about using appropriate language and displaying ignorance and gaps in knowledge.

I’m going to just go ahead and let you know what I’ve come to as an academic leader so far. I believe that diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) are terms that connect with the social justice advocacy that has been important to me for my whole career. I believe contributing to DEI as a leader means recognizing individual and institutional possibilities for change and growth, with the understanding that the more power a person has within an institution, the more that person’s individual behavior is actually part of systemic effects.

That means that, as an individual, I need to be humble, open to learning what I don’t yet know, and open to correcting my behavior. We are all growing; we don’t get to the point of knowing it all. So being a leader means cultivating an environment in which we can gently but honestly call one another out when my (or another person’s) behavior is problematic.

At the same time, focusing only on individual shifts and not on institutional systemic shifts is not enough.

I also think it’s necessary to pay attention to data and figure out the signs of inequity and the numbers that we hope to shift. In higher ed, that often means counting numbers of students, faculty, and staff representing a variety of demographics. Curricular and co-curricular activities and systems can also be measured for DEI relevance, and some survey instruments (like campus climate surveys) may matter. Ways to move the needle on some of these items requires a lot of research, thought, conversation, and piloting of ideas to see what works. But pretending everything is all right or having goals without measurements doesn’t really work.

That’s more or less how I think about campus DEI in a very small nutshell. I have more details, but really what I want to notice is what I learn when reading From Equity Talk to Equity Walk.

Initial shifts and additions in my thinking

1. I am so used to teaching students about systemic racism and sexism (and so on) that I was actually surprised that the book started with the sentence, “This equity journey begins with you” (1). In some ways, this idea jives with my belief in the importance of both individual and institutional change. McNair, Bensimon, and Malcom-Piqueux explain that “people drive change, lead change, and sustain change,” so institutional change only happens if people understand racial inequity and are committed to anti-racist practices (1).
   
2. McNair, Bensimon, and Malcom-Piqueux explain that a lot of educators are interested in making things more equitable (that’s the talk part), but what’s important is “not only…examining equity in student outcomes, but also…expand[ing] practitioner knowledge for racial equity and justice in higher education” (2). That is, we can’t just look at the here and now, though that’s important. We also have to make room for “a critical examination of the historical, social, cultural, and political perspectives that make the concept of equality a misnomer for many in our society, especially minoritized students” (3).
   
   That is, to address issues, we have to be critical about the frameworks we’ve inherited and that we often take for granted. To challenge current frameworks, we have to do our homework. Surface understanding doesn’t cut it. We gotta learn more.
   
3. Even though “DEI” is often used as a quick phrase, it’s smart to have shared definitions of each. This book is associated with the AAC&U, as are these definitions.
   
   “Diversity” is prioritizing the value of “individual and group differences” and the richness of ideas and experiences borne of differences that can benefit all of us (6).
   
   “Inclusion” involves intentional efforts to engage with diversity “to increase awareness, content knowledge, cognitive sophistication, and empathic understanding of the complex ways individuals interact within systems and institutions” (6-7).
   
   “Equity” focuses on fostering opportunities to close “achievement gaps in student success and completion” (7). And this part is key to this book:
   
   “Being equity-minded requires examining why inequities exist and understanding how the racialization of institutional practices sustains those inequities” (7, my italics).
   
   I’m going to come back to these definitions as I read the book.
   
4. One of the first examples of approaching higher ed from an equity standpoint focuses on data gathered. While many universities collect data on retention and completion rates that can be disaggregated by race and ethnicity, it would be smart to collect and disaggregate information about numbers of student participating in high impact learning practices that improve student learning and persistence (8). It would also be smart to consider socio-economic status and whether the students are the first in their families to attend college (9), though later in the book, McNair, Bensimon, and Malcom-Piqueux point out that too often, attending to socio-economic status becomes a way of deflecting a focus on race (because the latter is less comfortable to discuss).
   
   McNair, Bensimon, and Malcom-Piqueux go on to describe an equity project undertaken by 13 schools, and I immediately feel jealous that I didn’t get to participate, because it seems awesome.
   
   But that’s why I’m reading this book. To prime myself. What are the kinds of mindsets and approaches that can be integrated into higher ed leadership…not just as a special project but as ongoing work? That’s what I want to think through as I continue to read.
   

A few things I want to carry with me as I finish Chapter Three and return the book to the library

Okay, well, a lot.

1. Spending more time learning about the Equity Scorecard from the Center for Urban Education (here).
   
2. Some of the obstacles to being “equity-minded” are things I think I’m okay with most of the time, but sometimes I “skirt around race” by using terms like “underrepresented faculty” instead of saying, “Black, Latiné, and Indigenous faculty” (or something similar, depending on the context, of course).
   
   I think I skirt around direct language because I’m nervous about getting called out by using an outdated term or by omitting groups that ought to be included. Maybe I’m making assumptions that aren’t quite on target, so more generalized language feels more comfortable.
   
   But, the point is, if we are going to address racism, we have to know who and what we’re talking about.
   
3. I’ve known for a long time that DEI efforts shouldn’t be based on deficit models, with white and Asian students being “fine” when they arrive at college and schools needing to address “lacks” or “under-preparedness” in Black and Latiné students. Instead, it’s important to recognize the diverse kinds of gifts students carry with them when they arrive in our classrooms.
   
   But I struggled with how to address situations with higher percentages of Black or Latiné students earning D-F or W-grades in high challenge courses.
   
   McNair, Bensimon, and Malcom-Piqueux suggest moving from a focus on “achievement gaps” to a focus on “equity gaps” (74). This works for me. It’s putting the focus on the problem. That way, the analysis and solutions address “people, practices, and policies” (68).
   
4. When I discussed numbers and data sets that are a starting point for thinking about equity in higher ed in my “Laurie before opening the book” section above, I didn’t mention the ways DFW rates often differ by race. That was a HUGE oversight on my part. I wonder if I omitted that data set because it’s so uncomfortable for me to talk about patterns of differences reflected in grades….
   
   I want to be braver. Shifting from the language of “achievement gap” to “equity gap” helps tremendously. Sometimes language is everything.
   
5. Yikes. There are other moments of growth and challenge this book pitches to me, and to some degree I think the only way for me to be better about it all is to keep immersing myself in the conversations. And to be willing to say things poorly as I learn and gradually figure out how to articulate things well.
   
   Really. It’s a super clear book, and the ways McNair, Bensimon, and Malcom-Piqueux discuss equity mindsets helps me see ways I need to continue moving forward, often in terms of moving from theory to practice.

Final thoughts for now

I love that I qualify “final thoughts” with the phrase “for now.” Yeah, these are not final thoughts at all, just the closing words for this post, right here, right now.

As I wrote the above, I kept using the phrase “the authors” instead of using the authors’ actual last names. Why? Because it takes time and effort and even a bit of second guessing myself to go through with writing all three last names. It may also be less convenient for readers.

That seems like a metaphor. Right?

So, it’s slightly difficult. So, it takes a bit more time and care, So, it’s uncomfortable. So, I might get it wrong.

So what?

The three writers—Tia Brown McNair, Estela Mara Bensimon, and Lindsey Malcom-Piqueux—they deserve my respect and care and time. They’ve earned it. I’m going to go back and add their names into my post. And, way beyond this tiny gesture, I’m going to try to keep learning and self-correcting as I learn.

It’s not everything. It’s definitely not final. But it’s a start.