I often tell people I never thought I'd end up with a passion for education. Sure, I've been semi-obsessed with the idea of an "achievement gap" since I was in high school, but as a native of the Washington, D.C. area, I always thought I'd work in sports or politics. That's what it seemed everyone in D.C. did — and so did I for awhile. But in 2012, I took a position at a higher ed publication, and I've been passionate about education, with a specific focus on issues of access and equity, ever since.
My work centers around challenging the way we view education as an institution, and the realization that it is as much a weapon against certain populations as it is a path to success for others. Words like "equity," "diversity," and "inclusion" have become popular buzzwords in K-12 and higher education circles, but few actually unpack the nuances behind the ideas of equity and inclusion, or challenge the way every decision school leaders make impact the way students experience school. Believing strongly that historically Black colleges and universities and other minority-serving institutions play a critical role in advancing these goals, I have become a fierce advocate for these storied institutions and a defender of their relevance in an integrated society.
As a communications professional, I draw on my personal background to tell stories that challenge the way we traditionally think about race and class. Specifically, I am dedicated to challenging the very frequent portrayal of people color as being inherently poor and underprivileged while their white counterparts are almost universally portrayed as better off. Such broad-stroke narratives are not only inaccurate, but they’re lazy and do a disservice to the storyteller — whose story now lacks depth — the populations portrayed, and those consuming the one-dimensional stories. And they directly contradict my own lived experiences at virtually every point of the narrative.
I pride myself on getting audiences to question what we think we know and presenting perspectives that are not often represented in the stories we most often read. Whether that’s through pushing for the better disaggregation of data to find hidden stories, or through teaching people how to find the data point that works best for them, pairing numbers with narratives has always been a key part of that effort.
When I am not working to change the narrative around students of color in the U.S., you will likely find me reveling in the recent success of my World Champion Washington Nationals, armchair quarterbacking for the Philadelphia Eagles, touring jazz festivals, or escaping all of the above on a quiet beach.
My work centers around challenging the way we view education as an institution, and the realization that it is as much a weapon against certain populations as it is a path to success for others. Words like "equity," "diversity," and "inclusion" have become popular buzzwords in K-12 and higher education circles, but few actually unpack the nuances behind the ideas of equity and inclusion, or challenge the way every decision school leaders make impact the way students experience school. Believing strongly that historically Black colleges and universities and other minority-serving institutions play a critical role in advancing these goals, I have become a fierce advocate for these storied institutions and a defender of their relevance in an integrated society.
As a communications professional, I draw on my personal background to tell stories that challenge the way we traditionally think about race and class. Specifically, I am dedicated to challenging the very frequent portrayal of people color as being inherently poor and underprivileged while their white counterparts are almost universally portrayed as better off. Such broad-stroke narratives are not only inaccurate, but they’re lazy and do a disservice to the storyteller — whose story now lacks depth — the populations portrayed, and those consuming the one-dimensional stories. And they directly contradict my own lived experiences at virtually every point of the narrative.
I pride myself on getting audiences to question what we think we know and presenting perspectives that are not often represented in the stories we most often read. Whether that’s through pushing for the better disaggregation of data to find hidden stories, or through teaching people how to find the data point that works best for them, pairing numbers with narratives has always been a key part of that effort.
When I am not working to change the narrative around students of color in the U.S., you will likely find me reveling in the recent success of my World Champion Washington Nationals, armchair quarterbacking for the Philadelphia Eagles, touring jazz festivals, or escaping all of the above on a quiet beach.
