Diversity should be at the core of any higher education institution’s mission because it fosters progress and thrive. Just as biological diversity in nature is important to the health of the planet and helps propagate life and evolution, social diversity (be it gender, race, ideas, etc.) is essential to the health and evolution of society. To that end, as a teacher and a citizen, I am committed to diversity and inclusion as well as equity and justice in all aspects of my life and community. This means a commitment to fostering diversity and inclusion in all forms and vigorously promoting an anti-racist and accessible community.

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As a white, cisgender, heterosexual, nondisabled man, any commitment to diversity, inclusion, and anti-racism must begin by acknowledging my own privilege in having to make such a commitment. I am privileged in that I am rarely (if ever) forced to confront or think about my own race gender or other markers of identity. I have never faced any significant barriers due to my race, gender, sexuality, or disability. I am writing this on land taken from the Creek people and in a country and region founded in slavery and segregation. It is because of this privilege that a commitment, in words and actions, to diversity, accessibility, inclusion, and anti-racism is so necessary for me to make.

My commitment to diversity and anti-racism is always “in process,” however. Although I have always vocally opposed racism and discrimination, my understanding of what that means and what that looks like has continued to evolve. This evolution is a result of my personal experience and growth, but most importantly my willingness to shut up and listen to and learn from those with different experiences. I am particularly influenced by Critical Race Theory and its offshoots and scholars such as Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw, Vershawn Young, and Eugenia Zuroski (among many, many others). I know I still have much more learning and work to do but know enough to understand that this growth is a journey and not a destination.

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As a teacher, I am committed to what I call “person-first teaching.” This philosophy is built on a commitment to diversity, equity, and accessibility. Or perhaps more concretely stated, it is built on a foundation of anti-racist, anti-inequity, and anti-ableist pedagogy. This approach to pedagogy begins with acknowledging my own biases and privilege—and the biases and privilege of the culture and academy that I occupy. Such a pedagogical approach is a continuous process of learning and improving—making conscious choices and taking deliberate actions. I strive to reflect this person-first pedagogy in how I treat all students, my approach to instruction, and my philosophies on grading and feedback. Influenced by the anti-racist and accessible pedagogy of scholars like Asao Inoue and Jesse Stommel (among many others) and principles of universal design, I employ a variety of contract or “gradeless” grading policies. Such a pedagogy aims to be equitable and reparative, placing students’ needs above those of the institution.

 

In the classroom, I strive to create an open and accessible space in which students feel safe and supported. Class discussion and engagement is designed to allow students to hear and share a variety of viewpoints. Meaningful and constructive dialogue requires a degree of mutual respect, willingness to listen, and tolerance of reasonable opposing points of view. I make clear, however, that viewpoints that express hate, discrimination, or exclusion—such as racism, sexism, ableism, classism, homophobia, etc.—are by definition disrespectful and cannot and will not be tolerated.

 

Outside of the classroom, I do what I can to promote these same ideals within my community. I have participated in recent demonstrations in support of the Black Lives Matter movement and participated in the Scholar Strike for Racial Justice. I strive to be a vocal and active ally and use my privilege as a member of an over-represented group to create space and opportunities for BIPOC, LGBTQ+, disabled, and other underrepresented members of the community.

This statement is a promissory note, an acknowledgement of what I still must do, not an assertion of success.