Kerri Ullucci's Blog

I’m online this morning when I see the heading “DEI is dead.” I’m wondering who killed DEI? Who thinks it’s dead? And why is DEI the enemy?

DEI is evidently dead because Virginia’s chief diversity officer says it is (I’m going to leave all of that alone. Too much for this post).

There is no doubt that DEI work is under attack. This is the worst I’ve seen in my 20 years in the field. DEI programming in colleges is being dismantled (Texas, for example). Trans youth are under attack (Alabama, we see you). Ethnic studies is being challenged (Florida, Florida, Florida). Book bans limit representation in literature, omitting Black and Brown children, queer youth and trans folks (in so many states). So yes, we are unquestionably living in a moment where people who do DEI work are seeing their jobs evaporate, and students are seeing their worlds shrink as history and literature are narrowed. It is indeed soul-crushing and infuriating and stunning that this is still where we are. But we’ve been here before. Ignorance has a long lineage. Racism continues, but so too does resistance. DEI is still alive. Don’t let them say otherwise. Good people are doing good work. Check out this and this and this.

As I am getting this blog up and running, I want to lay out the building blocks that are central to my thinking, my approach to this work and how we will spend our time together. This DEI-is-dead-nonsense allows me to get at one of them.

DEI is currently being framed as the enemy. I’m going to literally spell it out: diversity, equity, and inclusion are perceived as the enemy. Enemy enough that entire districts and states are crafting laws to dismantle it. In doing so, governments and/or school people imply that homogeneity, inequity and exclusion are their actual goals. This normalization of injustice is breathtaking.

DEI work is not the enemy. To do DEI work is to bring attention to the gaps in how we treat each other, gaps that are built into our system and impact each of us. To do DEI work is to acknowledge racism is moral failure that harms our neighbors and ourselves. White children do.not.do.better because Brown and Black children are dis-included in the curriculum. This war against DEI is subterfuge that distracts folks from actual issues, like massive wealth inequality, global health disparities and a burning planet. So no, including people, respecting them, and aiming for fairness is not the enemy. The belief that equity and inclusion don’t matter is.

I tell my grad students to imagine their best teacher, and then unpack what he/she did that made them exceptional. Without fail, the commonality semester-to-semester is a solid relationship with that person, based on warmth, patience and often, humor (although that is a different post). Where I want to pause here is the importance of intentionally modeling your teaching after folks you respect. This really is the magic of teaching. Educators who may have crossed your path half a lifetime ago linger. You get to call them up all these years later, no matter time or space or distance.

When I do this, I have clear memories, some more than 20 years old. Susan Ambrose was my professor as an undergrad. She taught me that White women can do equity work. She was my first role model in the field. I followed in her footsteps. Kisha Davis Caldwell was my mentor teacher way back in the day, when I was a mere sprout, student teaching in Pittsburgh. She taught me that I could do math, could explain it even, and that it was (gasp!) fun. I also learned the role of “other mother” from Kisha, that sweet-spot place in a relationship with students where they know you love them AND that there is no messing around. I had the GOATS at UCLA, Tyrone Howard and Mike Rose. Dr. Howard taught me the importance of checking in with students. Every class he taught, the first 10 minutes were about connection with individuals. I wrote that down in a notebook that I still have today: “make students know you see them.” And Mike Rose, what can one say about Mike Rose? Mike taught me humility, plain spoken-ness, and the value of a little bit of sass.

I literally think of these folks, to this day, when I am in the classroom. Little bits of their presence show up. I “dear reader” my grad students (thanks Mike), and goof around with my undergrads (ask them what you should binge watch, other faculty folks. Hilarious. This is where I learned of “Hot Ones”). Thanks Tyrone! I taught high school math three years ago (thanks Kisha!) And I am writing this post in my blog about equity (thanks Susan).

Who are you modeling yourself after? How do you channel that person in your classroom?