Lessons Learned from a Study on Queer Students of Color at Historically White Institutions

It was extremely humbling when I heard that I was the recipient of the Melvene D. Hardee Dissertation of the Year Award from NASPA. As a longtime member of NASPA, I had seen people receive recognitions such as this one and would be in awe of the work they must have put in to acquire those acknowledgments. And now, as I reflect upon this moment, I now understand that these awards are not only the product of individuals but also of the communities of people who support them along the way. For me, I have to give credit to my amazing dissertation chair Dr. Susan Robb Jones, my committee members, family, partner, and friends. Perhaps most importantly, I also want to thank the participants who gave their time and energy to this research. 

To honor the contributions of these participants, I find it necessary to take this opportunity to highlight some significant lessons that I learned from my study that can help shape practice and research in the field of student affairs and higher education. The research project I engaged in involved understanding how queer students of color explored their identities at historically white institutions (HWI). Knowing that historically white institutions are sites where legacies of whiteness, heterosexism, and trans oppression have long existed, I was particularly interested in how systems of power and oppression informed these individuals’ identity exploration process.

In total, twenty students enrolled at different institutions across the country participated in the project. Their stories shared how identity exploration occurred through a simultaneous process of learning and unlearning in relationship to oppressive systems. That is, queer students of color had to unlearn the racist, heterosexist, trans oppressive, and other marginalizing messages they previously internalized, in addition to learning new perspectives on their identities. In a forthcoming article coming out in the Journal of College Student Development, I, alongside my doctoral advisor, describe the significant findings that emerged from the dissertation. Here, I want to impart some lessons that are especially relevant to practitioners and faculty working at historically white institutions.

 

As one participant in the study, John Doe, stated, “I am who I am because of the institution I attend.” In this short sentence, John Doe captured the strong influence that institutional environments can have on matters of identity for queer students of color. However, far too often, people working at HWIs fall short of their potential to create spaces for queer students of color to explore who they are and to thrive on campus. Three significant ways that participants discussed this experience involved: the oppressive campus climate, how they saw funding operating at the institution, and how their identities were erased in curricula as well as student affairs programming. 

For instance, participants recounted numerous incidents where they felt targeted because of identities such as their race, sexuality, gender, among others. However, beyond sensing this from a campus climate perspective, these queer students of color perceived a major disparity in how identity-related services and programs were funded. This inconsistency, in turn, influenced how participants viewed their own selves. Ezekiel captured this when he stated:

If you get rid of Latino Student Services, Native American Student Services, Asian-American/Pacific Islander Student Services, and LGBTQ lounge, and the gender and equality center then you're basically saying, 'Oh, your guys' identities don't matter. You're not important enough for us to continue to fund.'

Though these issues are complex, especially in a time when many institutional budgets are in flux, it is imperative that professionals pay attention to how their decisions impact minoritized communities like queer people of color.  

Similarly, participants commented on how they felt queer people of color were erased in classes and in student affairs programming. This issue was present in spaces that were not explicitly about identities (e.g., in STEM courses or in residence life), but was also apparent in identity-based classes and offices. For instance, these students spoke about how they had to decide when it came to identity centers on campus. As Avery put it, “We do have a QPOC week on campus where both identities meet but that’s around the only time I see that kind of happen and coincide today… It makes me feel like I have to pick and choose.” When offices did not attend to multiple minoritized identities, they have the potential of alienating the very students who they are intended to serve. 

Based on these comments, campuses themselves were not always conducive for queer students of color to positively explore their identities. To this point, participants shared multiple ways that they built a community outside of higher education institutions themselves. These instances showed me how institutional agents have the responsibility to learn from spaces outside of campuses about how to support their students. One example of this was when participants would find connections to professional conferences and national organizations where they would locate other queer people of color. Ness was one individual who spoke about the impact that a daylong event at Creating Change and queer Asian national collective had on their identity exploration:

Before I went to [this queer Asian conference] or the Asian American all-day event at Creating Change, I didn't get the chance to have that room for specifically queer Asian topics. Like I was just never engaged in those topics before, or at least in a critical setting. 'Cause it's one thing to read about it online, but there's a second thing to say it out loud. And that's what was so transformative about that space for me was, about that space was. It was because I got to put words into those things that I was thinking about all the time.

Because of the lack of compositional diversity present on Ness’ campus and the erasure of queer Asian identities in classes, as well as in student affairs offices, Ness needed to locate meaningful relationships away from their campus. The connections they made there were ones that they maintained virtually, another way that participants built community. Thus, it would behoove faculty and staff to both connect queer students of color to services/resources that exist outside of institutions, while also reexamining their own practices that are not attentive to the needs of queer students of color. 

What I want to end with is a recommendation that each queer student of color who participated in the study stated when we concluded our time together. When I asked them to offer suggestions for staff and faculty, they each shared a desire to be heard and cared for on their campuses. Max Aguirre exemplified this comment when they said, “To my institution, I'd probably say something like stop expecting our labor. Actually, think about how you can support us… Actually try to pay attention to us.” In this statement, Max identifies how student affairs professionals and faculty must stop believing that simply espousing diversity is enough; instead, those working at historically white institutions must make a commitment to equity that centers those most minoritized, including queer people of color. This is a dedication that I have made, and I encourage others to join me on this journey.