“I’m surprised you can do organic chemistry, you know, as a woman.” These words were actually spoken to me as I worked in an organic chemistry lab, and that instance was one of the first things that drove home a reality I had not yet fully grasped: there is a serious lack of diversity in the advanced levels of STEM scholarship.
As a straight, white, cis woman who grew up in middle-class America I know that I am extremely privileged. However, I wasn’t always aware of that. My understanding of diversity and inclusion has grown and changed a lot over the last five years. It has been shaped by a combination of factors including classes, listening to the stories of others, and reevaluating my own experiences. In that time, I have been prompted, by my friendships, by political circumstances and by my desire to do my job well, to truly think about power differentials and the struggles that minority populations face. As a chemistry educator and science communicator, I recognize that I can be more successful when I understand the people that I work with, and as I have tried to grow in that area, two major things have really hit home for me. The first is that not everyone is aware of a diversity problem in science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM), and not everyone agrees that this problem exists.
To be diverse we need to have people of different races, nationalities, socioeconomic backgrounds, genders, abilities, sexual identities, even religions present at the table. When I talk about being present at the table, it doesn’t just mean present in the field of chemistry (although there is undoubtedly underrepresentation of some populations), it is more than that. To be at the table means to both be present and well-respected in the field of chemistry. Someone at the table is an equal partner, able to share and contribute ideas that are heard and respected regardless of social identities. Currently, this is something that the chemistry field, and STEM as a whole, is lacking. As a female I have personally seen and experienced (as noted above) the respect and power differential between myself and an equally trained male scientist. As a white person, I’ve looked around me and noticed the significant representation difference between white Americans, Black Americans, and Latine Americans, all of whom (theoretically) came through the same schooling system that I did. As a straight cis person, I’ve witnessed discrimination against my queer and trans identifying coworkers. Based on my own experiences, there is without a doubt a diversity problem in STEM, but it is truly a problem that some cannot or will not recognize. I have struggled to convince some of my coworkers that what I have experienced is real. Oftentimes, because they have not personally witnessed it, they have trouble believing that I am not considered equal due to my gender (despite scientific research which confirms my experiences). And though I experience discrimination based on my gender alone, I know that others experience discrimination based on multiple aspects of their identities and on the intersection of those various identities outside the majority, complicating the issue even further. I recently heard the quote "we are more than the sum of our parts." We are more than the sum of our distinct identities, and similarly, the discrimination that many experience based on their intersecting identities is more than the summative discrimination of each those identities.
The second thing driven home for me during the past five years is that STEM fields actually suffer from the lack of diversity. Research clearly demonstrates that having a variety of perspectives enhances the ability to solve problems, which is what scientific research is all about. In addition, cutting out, underestimating, or simply not providing pathways to STEM for certain individuals and groups means missing out on the contributions those people could make. It has always been difficult for me to wrap my mind around that loss. Just think of all the opportunities that have been missed by overlooking people, opportunities that could have changed the course of science, and history, forever. By not having an equitable environment in STEM fields, we have not only done a disservice to the people excluded but a disservice to science and the world at large.
Initially, I didn’t understand that these things were true. I had a deep sense that excluding people based on social identities was inherently wrong, but I didn’t know why. As I’ve spent time studying the history of our country, I’ve begun to understand the role that those who are already in power play in bringing new people into power. I’ve begun trying to really wrestle with the consequences of colonization and what it means to live in a country built on stolen land with stolen lives. I’ve been able to comprehend more meaning to that sense of right and wrong, and more responsibility and concrete actions to correct some of these wrongs. I am aware that I am only just beginning to recognize the importance of diversity, inclusivity and social justice, that I have only scratched the surface of the problem. I know that the implications are vast and play out in just about every aspect of life in America. However, based on my own social identities, I also know that I have power and privilege to pursue social justice. Obviously, I can’t right all the wrongs of inequality in America, but I am committed to doing that to the best of my ability in my life and my classroom.