Navigating new normals in EDI part 2
This post was written by Alex and Rokia, with support and critique from the Science London collective.
Last time we attempted to outline the environment in which Equality, Diversity and Inclusion (EDI) work in science communication takes place. We discussed how the normative structures of science, science communication and public engagement uphold various forms of domination and oppression: meaning that doing this work involves putting yourself in conflict with universal beliefs of science and the aims of public engagement.
For part two, we move from outlining the problem to considering whether/how the current situation could include opportunities for progress and innovation. But making change in this moment of great personal, professional and national uncertainty is difficult to do alone. And so, as a way of building meaningful solidarity through open discussion of the challenges we face, the final part of this week's series includes our thoughts on why we do EDI work and our experiences of exclusion within STEMM. We realise that everyone’s story will be different, but perhaps some common threads will emerge that help us undo the tangled web that is EDI work. We end by sharing some strategies we have found useful for coping and ways to keep going during the pandemic and beyond.
Imagining ‘The New Normal’ as inclusive
As discussed, the current moment is prompting wide scale change within and between sections of society. In this sub-section we highlight where this has created opportunities for inclusive practice in innovative and interesting ways. The development of these projects/ discussions should get us thinking about pushing to implement ideas you may have been sitting on for a while, or could provide inspiration to develop new practices to meet emerging demands.
In acknowledgement of the amazing inclusive practice carried out by community organisations/ groups, The British Science Association (BSA) has awarded grants to local organisations to trial engagement strategies fit for a Covid-19 world*. From Zoom anatomy and physiology workshops themed around African hair and skincare, to informative Covid-19 “SARS WARS” activity packs that were delivered to people's homes, these projects highlight the potential for positive progress in the midst of crisis. Inclusive practitioners are skilled innovators because they are already attuned to the dynamic, complex needs of the publics they serve and this kind of innovative thinking will be key to the survival of all businesses as we move into the second wave of the pandemic. Further, as Marston et al write here, there is much we can learn from grassroots organising of the past, e.g. looking at strategies developed during the HIV/AIDs epidemic. Their article includes best practice suggestions for developing successful mechanisms of community participation during a public health crisis.
Similarly, ideas of being led by social movements and members of marginalised communities were central to discussions during the recent joint UKRI and Research on Research Institute event: Science and Society 20 years on. Aligned with this weeks’ theme, the panel discussion analysed how far public engagement with science had come since the 2000 House of Lords report (you can watch it here). While acknowledging that there was still a long way to go, provocations from Dr Hamied Haroon and Dr Erinma Ochu, suggest a growing appetite for inclusive practice in public engagement that directly address how we as communicators: share power with and incorporate the valuable knowledges held by the underserved communities we hope to reach. In general it indicates that as large institutions try to define their new normal they are beginning to see value in what vulnerable communities, e.g. those who live in perpetual states of crisis, can teach them and we can be cautiously hopeful that this process could be creating space for changing attitudes towards EDI in the science communication.
Why we do EDI work?
So, given all the personal and professional challenges associated with doing EDI work, why do we do it? Having asked the other members of the collective this question it is clear that we have all committed to EDI in science for different reasons, often related to our personal beliefs and professional experiences. Common amongst our reasonings were: feelings of anger/ frustration having been on the receiving end of challenges created by the unequal structure of science, feeling that our privilege as academics meant we had a responsibility to make science more equitable for those with even less access than ourselves. Underpinning it all, is a great love for science meaning that we want/ expect more from it as an institution. Doing EDI work means existing in a paradox, in which success renders our position redundant, so in the end we do this work, so one day there won’t be a need for it.
As a collective, when we allow ourselves to imagine a new normal free of the challenges discussed here, we hope for (amongst other things): the history of science to be discussed in ways that reckon with, rather than justify, sciences involvement in upholding social inequality; mainstream scientific narratives becoming naturally poly-vocal and techno-scientific imaginaries of ideal users or citizens being inclusive of publics within and between all socially constructed categorisations, underscored by an inherent understanding that the knowledge and experiences of all people has value.
Things are hard at the moment, but we found taking time to remind ourselves how and why we got into inclusive practice, the initial commitments we made and how we keep going, to be a useful exercise.
Charise:
“I started doing EDI work when it became unbearably apparent to me how alienating STEM institutions, research and comms often were for marginalised groups and individuals, including me - and the wider implications of this exclusion were often dangerous. I felt the missions, strategies didn't include people like me, or when they did it was clumsily done”
Ellie:
“I started doing EDI stuff at work in a science communication job because I was incredibly frustrated by the lack of concern about who was on our team, the types of stories we included in our materials, and the objects we selected and prioritised. This got me really thinking about structural challenges and eventually led me to changing the course of my research too.
Rokia
“ For me inclusive practice in science never felt like a choice. Once I became fully aware of all the knowledge and experiences that were being excluded from the way science is constructed and communicated and the impact that has on how it is used in wider society, promoting EDI felt like a natural fit. On a personal level I experienced many of the same feelings of exclusion that we discuss as a collective. I hope, through our work and the efforts of countless others, we make it so members of marginalised groups feel empowered to bring their perspectives to STEM- ultimately I feel that science is worse off for their absence.
Personal experiences:
Alex: As a STEMM student, I never thought that diversity and inclusion would become so important to my studies. As someone who is white English, I often forget that people only see the Hijab that I wear as part of my identity as a young Muslim. In school I knew that most teachers initially struggled with pairing my name to the Hijabi (woman wearing a hijab) they saw. I naively believed this would be different in university as I believed STEMM, and by extension STEMM professors were objective.
My first realisation that even in STEMM spaces I would be excluded, came at a university offer holders day. As a first generation student, I was very nervous and excited to meet my potential professors and course mates; but none of the largely white group of students and student ambassadors attempted to speak to me, only a professor came over to tell me that he encouraged all his first year students to ‘really shock their parents’ and that the science society was all about the ‘socials’. Queue the prejudice of the trapped and repressed Muslim woman who needs to be liberated.
I declined my offer.
When I finally settled on a university, I was more apprehensive about what I would find there. In my first year genetics lectures the professor has made a point of eye-balling me when discussing cousin-cousin marriages (straying slightly into forced and arranged marriages) and their frequency in different communities and the health issues that they can cause; I didn’t feel I could attend my course society’s events as they were held late at night and in heavy drinking environments. Pubs are unwelcoming places for non-drinking people from minority groups, especially Muslim Women. The one event that my faculty organised was similarly run, so unlike other course mates I was not able to meet with professors and course organisers in a social setting.
The societies and course organisers are the science communicators for university students; and it wasn’t until I became more involved in a sports society that I began to see the thought process that shapes the exclusionary practices and remarks that were made so naturally in their settings. The attitudes of some many people I spoke to seemed to be shaped by the Double Deficit model, the concept that the exclusion is the fault of the excluded through their own behavioural and attitudinal deficiencies. During a recent committee meeting two committee members remarked that you couldn’t form friendships unless you went out at night to pubs with people, I then defended my choices alone whilst the rest of the committee watched on. An underlying belief that I was deficient in their socialising practices, meant to them that I simply did not socialise. This came despite my self-organising sober socials, being active in creating different spaces to meet with other members and running and being elected into the committee.
But this space of blaming ‘the other’ is comfortable, and affects us all, whilst writing this I am struggling not to revise an earlier sentence to ‘the hijab that I choose to wear’ in case my independent decision to dress the way I do is not implicit in what I have written. Dawson argues that we need to understand exclusion less as the need for assimilation but more as the need to highlight and represent marginalised experiences (Equity, Exclusion and everyday science learning). My limited and on-going learning on how to discuss my experiences has shown me that the best way of doing so is to include those around me in my experiences. Walking around central London and sports areas means I get a fair dose of dark glances for being a hijabi. I started just remarking to a friend about how people give me odd looks for wearing a hijab in the gym, and the looks and comments from other members of the sports team. This same friend then emailed the Student Union to ask them to make and stock team branded sports hijabs (an email the union is yet to respond to). I was touched beyond words that they had done this for my sake and been such an ally for me on something I had learnt to accept.
How we keep going
Below is a collection of strategies we have employed to keep going when things get particularly difficult, but we understand that finding motivation is personal and context dependent. If nothing else we hope they point you towards strategies that might work for you in difficult times.
1. Remember, you are not alone, even if it feels one sided and like a losing cause, people are doing this work with you. We very much hope this is something people are able to take away from these blog posts
2. Be honest: In most cases people are ignorant of the issues you are facing and bystanders will not intervene unless you directly involve them in the experience- but you shouldn’t sugarcoat it. Being honest could also mean honesty relating to your expectations of allies/ accomplices or setting boundaries with the people in your life - all of which helps to create space for self care.
3. Ask for help, don’t try to carry everything all the time (here being honest with yourself becomes crucial). Trying to swim against the soup of socialisation is difficult and can feel like you are getting nowhere, so look for allies and or accomplices to build communities. They will support you through the experiences and share some of the weight of the issues you face.
Now is a great time for online community building/ networking however, it is important that underserved populations with limited access to online spaces don’t get left behind in the process.
4. Learn to give yourself space and time and know that the work will still be there when you get back. As Sara Ahmed writes: “Sometimes to sustain your commitments you stop what you are doing”.
5. Remind yourself why you are doing this. It’s important you are here for the right reasons as this directly impacts the way you approach EDI work. These moments of reflection could involve seeking out best practice examples to reignite your faith that things are changing, or taking time to listen to the communities you are trying to serve to re-engage in addressing their needs as they evolve.
We wish we could give more definitive advice, but the future has never been more uncertain, meaning that things that seem possible now, may not be in just a few weeks time. Also, we still have many things to learn in relation to navigating the scicomm landscape and ensure we live and work in ways that promote EDI and also anti-racist practice. What we do know is that the mould of ‘The New Normal’ is not yet set, we still have the opportunity to shape it into a softer and more inclusive space.
*Learnings from the BSA projects will be shared ahead of British Science Week 2021 (5th - 14th March 2021) and are sure to contain useful insights for further adjusting our practices. We will be share them via our social media platforms next year.