DEI

As a faculty member, I want every one of my students and colleagues to be supported in their work. But what does this look like in practice?

My approach to DEI issues is rooted, first, in the definitions of diversity, equity, and inclusion used by Johnson et al. (2019) (see Figure 1) and, second, in four fundamental assumptions that I consider uncontroversial but worth stating explicitly: (1) All people can benefit from, and should have access to, science education. (2) Historically and currently, some people have been unfairly excluded from science due to their race/ethnicity, sex/gender/sexual orientation, neurodiversity, age, religious beliefs, and/or other aspects of their identity. (3) Reducing inequities in access to scientific opportunities requires conscious and ongoing effort by all individuals and by their institutions. (4) Including diverse perspectives in science benefits us all.

With those assumptions as a foundation, I aim to support diversity, equity, and inclusion in the following ways.

I design curricula to be inclusive of human diversity. The traditional firehose of anatomy & physiology (A&P) content includes scant coverage of anatomical variations. Many textbooks still perpetuate oversimplified notions of skin color and biological sex, not finding space in their 1000+ pages to acknowledge the different forms of melanin, the morphological overlaps between males and females, or the existence of intersex individuals. When possible, I address such issues with literature data such as measurements of pubic angles in 100 males and 100 females, revealing the limitations of textbook dichotomies such as ">100 degrees = female, <90 degrees = male."

In setting academic expectations, I balance clarity with flexibility. Over the years, my summative assessments have evolved to become both clearer and more flexible, thus "leveling the playing field" for students unfamiliar with the unwritten rules of college science success. My Test Question Templates (TQTs) are a framework for showing students the patterns of problem-solving that are expected of them on exams (Evans et al. 2023). I also accommodate individual differences, for example, by allowing a 3x5 notecard at each exam, which students can personalize according to their individual needs, and by offering multiple makeup exam opportunities during regular class time, so that students who performed poorly on prior exams or missed them altogether have additional chances to demonstrate their mastery of the material.

I use my power to support those with less power. The strategies of the previous paragraph can also be considered acts of power-sharing (Crowther & Wiggins 2024). Similarly, at the faculty level, I try to be as helpful as possible to my many adjunct colleagues whose employment is tenuous rather than tenured, e.g., by writing letters on their behalf and notifying them of potentially appealing opportunities. I have supported the advancement of women in academia by serving (2019-2025) as EvCC's representative to the NSF-funded Values-based Academic Leadership Trajectories for women in STEM (VAuLTS) project based at Washington State University. Finally, as someone who has shepherded dozens of manuscripts through the publication process, I ensure that all of a paper's potential authors are empowered to contribute to it and to receive credit for their contributions.

I respect others as the experts on their own lived experiences. While DEI issues are complex, inclusivity can sometimes be as straightforward as cultivating an attitude of humility about the limited nature of my perspective, curiosity about people different from myself, and acceptance of the identities they present. Using people's preferred names and pronouns is a basic but meaningful example of this. And when I acknowledge my limits to students and ask them to add their perspectives, they often enrich the class sessions, as when students who have worked as EMTs or LPNs recount clinical experiences relevant to the day's topic.

I acknowledge that science is inherently political and value-laden, and therefore susceptible to bias. I have expanded my A&P courses to include mini-lessons about DEI aspects of eponyms, immune system models, medical terms such as "lactose intolerance," and estimates of glomerular filtration rate (GFR) and kidney transplants. In the latter activity, my students learn that respected research led to the inclusion of a "race coefficient" in the eGFR equation, which in turn led to discriminatory outcomes with respect to kidney transplant eligibility (Delgado et al. 2022). Students are thus led to the idea that discrimination can be impersonal and unintentional, yet still very real and very problematic.

I accept that DEI work is never complete. As with scientific research, we should take satisfaction in progress made while also asking ourselves what problems remain and what to do about them. For example, I'm currently asking myself about the extent to which our biology courses should continue to focus on Western science, as opposed to, e.g., incorporating indigenous perspectives. I don't have a good answer to this question, but I will continue to explore it with interested colleagues.