This article from Inside Higher Ed got me thinking about diversity this morning.
Outreach to Gay Applicants
It’s common practice through many college admissions departments for current students to reach out to admitted students who share an interest or identity: Latinos reach out to Latinos, athletes to athletes, and so on; admitted students value the opportunity to hear about the college experience from the perspective of a particular community that is of interest to them. Penn appears to be the first major university taking a similar approach with LGBT students.
The Penn application does not ask about sexual orientation, but applicants who indicate in their essays that LGBT issues, communities or activities are important to them may get a call from a like-minded current student. Some advocacy groups are petitioning college admissions departments and The Common Application to add an optional question about sexual identity, pointing out that “gay people are part of the diversity and fabric of an institution.”
I admire Penn for broadening their approach to diversity. But why am I writing about this on the Aim High blog? Because two experiences of diversity come to mind as I read this article:
First, I am reminded that, as a student at a private liberal arts college, I noticed that diversity in race, ethnicity, gender and sexuality were highly valued campus dialogues, but other diverse experiences went practically unnoticed: income, religion, body type, urban vs. rural backgrounds, and dozens of other differences. Of course, responsibility for opening campus dialogue fell to student groups more than anyone. When the Women’s Union and LGBT student groups lobbied for gender-neutral bathrooms in public buildings, every campus publication picked up the story and the administration rightly took action, showing that it was attentive to the safety and comfort of the small group of students for whom gender-neutral bathrooms are essential. Meanwhile, I remember the day in spring of freshman year when, as I discussed summer plans with a couple of friends, I realized I was the only one whose plans hinged on earning and saving money, and that the admissions office’s proud declaration that “50% of our students receive financial aid” meant the other 50% of my peers had enough income to pay the staggering price of full tuition. 50% of my peers spend their free time studying instead of earning their pocket money, and 50% of my peers would have resume-building summer internships and travels while I dusted crystal paperweights at an outlet mall in Michigan City, Indiana. I am absolutely not complaining – I am proud of my family and my home community, I loved my college, and I am incredibly grateful for the opportunities I had in both contexts. I do think, though, that my campus culture should have included more dialogue about diversity of income/background. Like my peers at that college, I grew up in a safe community surrounded by many college-educated adults and took advantage of many extra-curricular opportunities, so I can only imagine what the college experience would be like for students who didn’t have that growing up. Aim High sites promote a college-bound culture and encourage students to reach for their dreams, whether that dream is becoming a great soccer player, owning a local business, traveling the world or getting a Ph.D from Harvard, so students have to be able to understand and relate to diverse peers, in all the many ways they may be diverse. Following the lead of the University of Pennsylvania, all educators have a responsibility to open dialogue about all kinds of diversity from day one.
The second thing that comes to mind is, on one of my first-ever visits to an Aim High site, I visited an Issues and Choices class where a Native American woman was sharing her experience of growing up adopted in a Christian household, discovering her Two Spirit identity (a Native American concept that loosely translates to LGBT), being kicked out of her home, becoming homeless, and becoming part of Oakland’s substantial Native American community. Students reacted as students do – surprise, wonder, understanding, questions, giggles – and I remember being completely wowed. At the age of 12, had I ever talked to a Native American? Had I ever had a discussion with someone who was gay, or who had ever been homeless? Did I know that, in some cultures, minority identities (like Two Spirits) made people more special and not more hated? I did not. I wish I had. I like to think that simply knowing these things at the age of 12 would have made me a more understanding and empathetic middle schooler. I can’t say for sure that this experience changed the life of any student in that room, but I can say that, as I was standing there, it became clear that Aim High’s attention to this kind of thing – the magical, purposeful community that values opportunity and respect – creates a place where 12-year-olds can become better people.