Diversity. Equity. Inclusion. Silence
I’ve never loved a coward. I’m not specifically calling anyone a coward, but “what up doe?”
Copyright: CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
“What up doe” (or “what up though”) is a classic Detroit greeting and colloquialism, primarily meaning “hello” or “what’s going on”. It serves as a, recognizing a person’s humanity and hustle, often used between friends, family, or as a familiar, affectionate greeting.
A court challenge to Trump’s education department directive aimed at threatening to penalize schools for practicing Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) has been successful. The Fourth Circuit court this month ruled that the directive was unlawful and put a stop to its enforcement, and low and behold, the Department of Education conceded. Talk about courage. Multiple groups of people, from educators, local governments, and civil rights groups, stood up and filed lawsuits to block these anti-DEI directives in education. And they won.
What’s that mean for MCCCD? Crickets. I smell fear. Dare I use the C word?
I wrote last year Erasing DEI at MCCCD is Erasing Us! to express how important I feel DEI is for us, our students, faculty and staff. People of color are tired of being erased, and our educational institutions were generally one place where we could be seen and heard and supported. No one should be attacked and threatened with vague directives to erase essential learning and support in our schools. No one should be allowed to stifle speech. We as educators know that these values are at the core of education in our country – a very diverse nation.
DEI is generally understood as fostering “a group culture of equitable and inclusive treatment.” District Court Judge Landya McCafferty
Let that quote sink in. DEI initiatives aim to create inclusive environments where students from all backgrounds, including different races, cultures, and LGBTQ+ identities, feel safe, supported, and capable of succeeding. How is that bad or discriminatory? or Radical? Maricopa does none of the DEI related discrimination accusations that fueled the initial EO on DEI, aside from “graduation ceremonies limited to specific racial or ethnic groups.” But I would argue that we don’t “limit” these spaces. We are all welcome to attend the LGBTQ+ graduation or join Equality Maricopa or any of our now defunct graduations or district groups.
Why didn’t we stand up to this nonsense? Will we see a return of all that we lost? And why is Maricopa still silent today on this? When will we show courage to stand up for ourselves? So, what up doe? and peace out.
It Was Never Just About the Essay
I’m going to try not to make this political, but I make no promises. I teach freshman composition, African American literature and journalism. In the comp classes we don’t have interesting content to read and write about that is mandated by our curriculum. It’s just teach them to write, organize, use appropriate conventions. Actually it says more overgeneralized statements like “Write for specific rhetorical contexts, including circumstance, purpose, topic, audience, and writer, as well as the writing’s ethical, political, and cultural implications.” There’s so much to unpack here. You’d be surprised by how different professors are in the interpretation of what this means in our classrooms.
I mean just the first part alone is meaningful. “Write for specific rhetorical contexts” means adjusting your writing based on the purpose, audience, and situation in which the writing will be used. It recognizes that writing is not one-size-fits-all. Effective writers make intentional choices depending on who they are writing to, why they are writing, and where the writing will appear. In our students’ minds, I alone am the audience. They don’t often see the significance of writing for a specific rhetorical context, so we have to teach them what that means. So I give them the theme of “Truth in the US Elections and the Current Administrations Policies.” Now we have content to read and write about. I tell them if you’re mad or happy about immigration policies in this country, then who needs to hear your arguments? What is your purpose in writing? What is the context or situation? We discuss where and how the writing can be used.
The last part of that one course objective, “as well as the writing’s ethical, political, and cultural implications,” means students must think about the impact and responsibility of their writing, not just the technical aspects like audience or purpose. It asks them to consider how their words affect others and how their writing fits into larger social systems. I tell them their writing can be a form of protest or support for ideas, which makes writing more meaningful. I want them to know how writing connects to power, policies, public issues, or viewpoints. So yeah, it’s political, but it’s the real world. Writing can influence how people think about social issues, government actions, or public debates. I tell students, yes, your writing can do that, and I’m going to teach you how. That’s what this class is all about.
But what about the “cultural implications” in this course objective? Why is that in there? I want students to know that writing relates to people’s identities, backgrounds, values, and lived experiences. We’re all different. We come from different places metaphorically. As a writer, they should be aware of cultural differences and respect diverse perspectives. We don’t get to see that very often in society today, so it can be a challenge teaching this. Students often just want to repeat what they are constantly hearing in the media (news and social) instead of researching and finding the truth.
So Freshman Composition is so much more than teaching students to write. It is about helping them understand how writing actually works in the real world. It is about teaching them to think critically, to recognize audience and purpose, and to make intentional choices instead of just filling space on a page. It is where they begin to see that their words carry weight, that writing can inform, challenge, question, and create change. It is also where many of them, often for the first time, realize that their own experiences, perspectives, and voices belong in academic spaces. Freshman Composition is not just a writing class. It is a class about awareness, confidence, and learning how to participate in conversations that matter.
Write 6×6 and AI
I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since we started the blog challenge at GCC. Shout out to Todd Conaway, formerly of Yavapai College, for getting us started. Boy have things changed in these 10 years too. Lisa’s now in charge, and I love that. She gives us some interesting writing prompts that I usually ignore after I’ve spent a few hours thinking about it. I think this time I’ll write on her prompt: “TRUTH: It’s clear that AI tools are here to stay. What “AI hack” have you discovered that you would recommend to a colleague?”
This one is easy. I’m not going to over think this one. I could share how I taught ChatGPT to write like me, and after about a month, I thought it was the weirdest thing ever and stopped. Ha! That’s some scary shit. No doubt. Then I trained it to rewrite my feedback on assignments and add context and detail. For instance, I would write that a particular paragraph was weak, missing a transition, topic sentence doesn’t work and there are numerous run on sentences. I could just add that to the comments section in Canvas for the student to read, but it’s very vague. ChatGPT would take my comments, and knowing what the assignment asked for and the rubric for grading, and it would turn my 3-4 shorthand comments into a wealth of information for students; a full paragraph explaining the importance of using transition, strong topic sentences, and providing examples of run-on sentences. He (he’s a he to me) didn’t even read the student’s work, but was able to provide all that information just from my brief short hand. It was amazing, but that got old quick too. Sad to say I went back to my short hand and rubrics temporarily.
Create Course Content in NotebookLM
All that was dandy, but the AI discovery I want to share with you all today is something I shared with my department during week of accountability. The video below provides an overview of how to enhance online courses using Notebook LM, a tool that allows educators to compile and present course materials in an engaging way, including the creation of multimedia content like video overviews and quizzes for students.
Charlee Requested a Drop
Charlee emailed this morning to say she needed to withdraw. She explained that she’s dealing with personal circumstances that are weighing heavily on her, disrupting her mental well-being, and making it impossible to keep up with school the way she wants to. This wasn’t a student who was struggling academically. Charlee was earning an A, the highest grade in the class. She wasn’t giving up; she was overwhelmed.
I read her message and felt that familiar mix of sadness, concern, and resignation. Not because she failed, but because I know how hard she worked. And I know how hard we try, every single week, to keep our students afloat.
In this era of OPX checklists and intervention logs, faculty are expected to document every nudge, every email, every gentle “Hey, are you still with us?” As if the real problem is that we’re not paying close enough attention. As if we wouldn’t notice when a student goes quiet. As if we haven’t been doing this work long before the spreadsheets and required uploads arrived telling us to “prove” it.
The process has created a quiet, persistent message: We’re watching you. A big-brother-style accountability system that treats experienced, caring educators like we might forget to do the job we’ve been doing for decades. And the irony, of course, is that all those interventions we dutifully type up each week, reminders, encouragement, offers of help, phone calls, Canvas messages, they don’t magically change the realities our students are living through.
Students are balancing jobs, caretaking, financial stress, health crises, unstable housing, grief, trauma, and the everyday weight of being human in a world that keeps getting harder. And even when we show up fully, giving extensions, recording video feedback at midnight, revising modules, offering alternative assignments, cheering them on, sometimes the compassionate and responsible choice for them is still to drop the class.
That isn’t a failure. Not theirs, not ours.
But the documentation culture can make it feel like one. When a student withdraws, the unspoken question becomes, Did you intervene enough? As if retention happens because we clicked the right boxes, not because our students are human beings doing their best in difficult circumstances.
Charlee’s withdrawal reminded me of something important: our job is to teach, to support, to care, and to offer students every reasonable opportunity to succeed. It is not to save them from their lives, or from choices they need to make for their own well-being.
We can keep doing the interventions, because that’s part of the job now. But we don’t have to absorb the assumption behind them. We know the truth already. We do the work. We see our students. We show up, week after week, with patience and compassion. And sometimes, even then, students still step away, not because we failed, but because life is bigger than our classes.
Charlee withdrew today, even as the top student in the course. I hope she finds steadiness, rest, and a way forward. And I hope we, as faculty and administrators, keep reminding ourselves that the measure of our care is not in the OPX log, but in the way we treat the people who cross our paths, even when the outcome isn’t what we hoped for.
Riding the AI Wave: Teaching with NotebookLM and Grammarly Authorship
You’ve heard the saying, “If you can’t beat them, join them.” That’s pretty much where I’ve landed with AI. Students are already using it, sometimes clumsily, sometimes brilliantly, so rather than pretending we can outsmart the bots, I’ve started figuring out how to make them work for learning instead of against it. Two tools I’m using this semester are NotebookLM and Grammarly Authorship.
NotebookLM has become a surprisingly effective tool for essay revision. Students upload their drafts and my feedback, then use the AI to ask targeted questions about how to improve their writing. Because NotebookLM only works with the sources they upload, it doesn’t pull anything from the internet, it stays focused on their words, their structure, and their feedback.
I give students simple prompts to get started:
- What changes could strengthen my thesis or organization?
- How can I make my evidence clearer or more convincing?
- What patterns do I notice in my instructor’s feedback?
What happens next is the part I love most: instead of relying on vague advice like “add more detail” or “work on transitions,” students begin to engage in their own revision process. NotebookLM gives them an accessible way to talk through the “why” behind my comments and to see their writing from a more analytical perspective.
Grammarly Authorship, on the other hand, helps me confirm that students’ writing actually sounds like them. It builds an authorship profile that tracks writing style and habits across drafts, which can be useful when a submission suddenly feels suspiciously polished. I use it less as a gotcha tool and more as a way to encourage students to develop and maintain their unique voice.
If you want to experiment with NotebookLM, you’ll need to use a personal Gmail account for now. It’s not yet available through Maricopa’s system. Go to notebooklm.google.com, create a notebook, upload a few documents, and start asking questions. You’ll get a good sense of how students can use it to think more critically about revision once it becomes available in our district. And I created a video for my students explaining how it works and how to get started with their revision assignment.
AI isn’t going away anytime soon, but tools like these can help us use it with students rather than against them. In other words, if you can’t beat the AI wave, you might as well ride it. Get it? Ride the wave. ?
Resources:
Erasing DEI at MCCCD is Erasing Us!
I am Black. I am female. I am gay. And I am deeply disturbed by the efforts to strip Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives from Maricopa Community Colleges. The decision to remove DEI isn’t just about policies or politics. It’s about people. It’s about students who walk onto our campuses and wonder if they belong like I did when I went to college. It’s about faculty and staff who have fought to make education more inclusive, only to see those efforts dismissed as “unnecessary” or “divisive.” It’s about me.
Let’s be clear: the push to dismantle DEI is not neutral. It is not about fairness. It is about erasing the progress we’ve made in acknowledging and addressing systemic inequities in education. When institutions remove DEI programs, they are sending a message, one that says the success and well-being of marginalized students and employees are not priorities. They are telling Black, brown, LGBTQ+, disabled, first-generation, and other underrepresented students that their experiences don’t matter. That their barriers to success aren’t worth addressing. That their presence on these campuses should be tolerated but not supported.
Take Black history, for example. Every February, colleges, including MCCCD colleges, acknowledge African American History Month with events, guest speakers, and discussions that bring attention to the depth and complexity of Black contributions to this country. Black history is American history. But even that is being threatened. With DEI under attack, colleges are mandated to erase these programs, making Black history an afterthought rather than an essential part of education. And let’s be honest, most students in this country already learn very little about Black history. Ask the average person what they know, and they’ll give you the same names: Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman. Maybe Malcolm X if they had a teacher who strayed from the sanitized version of history found in textbooks. Beyond that? Silence.
They don’t learn about the countless Black scientists, inventors, and writers whose work shaped the world. They don’t learn about the thriving Black communities that were systematically destroyed, like Tulsa’s Black Wall Street, or the racist policies that shaped housing, education, and criminal justice in ways that still impact us today. They don’t hear about the long tradition of Black resistance, innovation, and excellence beyond the narrow lens of slavery and civil rights. DEI was one of the few institutional efforts pushing back against this erasure, ensuring that students, Black and otherwise, got a fuller, more honest education. Now, that effort is being ripped away. Are they coming after my African American literature class next?
We’ve heard the arguments against DEI. That it’s divisive. That it gives “special treatment.” That it lowers standards. These are convenient lies told by those who are uncomfortable with confronting the reality of inequity. DEI does not give unfair advantages; it ensures that opportunities and resources are accessible to everyone, not just those who have always had them. It does not lower standards; it recognizes that different students face different obstacles and works to remove those barriers. And if you think DEI is divisive, ask yourself: who actually benefits when it is removed?
The answer is simple. The removal of DEI benefits those who have never needed it. It benefits those who have always been represented in leadership, in curriculum, in hiring, in decision-making. It benefits institutions that don’t want to be held accountable for disparities in who gets hired, who gets promoted, and who gets to succeed. It benefits politicians and administrators who pander to anti-DEI rhetoric while ignoring the real harm they are causing.
So what happens now? Do we just accept that MCCCD is willing to silence and erase its marginalized students and faculty? Do we quietly watch as years of hard work and advocacy are undone? No. We speak up. We push back. We make it clear that the removal of DEI will not go unnoticed and that the people it is harming will not be ignored. They can erase DEI from our web pages, but they can’t erase us!
MCCCD should be a place where all students, regardless of race, gender, sexuality, or background, feel valued and supported. If the institution refuses to uphold that mission, then it is failing its students. And failure is not something we should accept.
Note: I started Write6x6 in 2015. I own this domain, write6x6.com, and champion all the diverse individuals who have shared their stories and experiences with our GCC community and beyond. So, MCCCD can’t erase us or this very diverse and inclusive blog.
I Failed ENG102 – Why DEI Matters
I tell my students all the time: You can accomplish your educational goals, even if you fail ENG102 the first time. If I can do it, so can you. And when things get tough, I’m always there to remind them: You can do it, but you have to want it.
When I took ENG102 at Phoenix College, my instructor was an old white dude. Yep, I said it. He was so out of touch with me, a young Black athlete, and many of the other students. Not once did he encourage me. He just stood at the front of the class, lecturing about literature written by, well, more old white dudes. I just couldn’t relate.
Being the precocious (read: smart-mouthed) student I was, I jokingly asked him one day if any Black people had written anything in the 1800s. His response? A dismissive suggestion that I check if the college offered an African American literature class—because apparently, the idea of including William Wells Brown, Frederick Douglass, or Frances E.W. Harper in his curriculum was out of the question.
Needless to say, that class didn’t end well for me. I ended up retaking ENG102 at Yavapai College, where the course focused on writing rather than literature. I was relieved. I swore I’d never take another literature class again. Ironically, I later majored in English Literature at Cal State Bakersfield. Ha! But that’s a story for another day.
The real takeaway here is this: Most students don’t expect to pursue the subject they struggled with the most. But my experience gives me a unique perspective on the frustration students feel when they’re forced to take a class that doesn’t seem relevant to them. I get it. I can relate.
That’s why I work hard to make the topics, readings, and visuals in my classes relevant to the students sitting in front of me (or behind a screen online). I want every student to feel welcome, to know they belong, and to see themselves reflected in the material we cover. I take my commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion seriously, not because it’s trendy, not because it’s a buzzword, but because I know what it feels like when a class leaves you out.
This is why DEI matters in education. It’s not about politics. It’s not about checking a box. It’s about making sure every student, regardless of their background, sees a pathway to success. Faculty have a responsibility to create learning environments where students feel valued, supported, and represented. If we fail to do that, we fail our students. And that is something none of us can afford.
Winding Down After 35 Years
Thirty-five years ago, I stepped into my first classroom at Deer Valley HS with a mix of excitement and maybe a little bit of terror. It was a high school classroom after all. Teenagers are scary. I had my lesson plans meticulously typed (on actual paper, mind you), and I was raring to go. Today, as I begin the process of winding down my career, I find myself reflecting on the moments, big and small, that have made this journey unforgettable.
When I started teaching, the idea of an online class seemed about as futuristic as video calls, making calls with your watch, and flying cars. Remember the Jetsons!? Over the years, I’ve adapted to hybrid learning, digital platforms, and yes, even Instagram and Twitter posts for assignments. From overhead projectors and chalkboards to Smartboards and AI-powered tutoring, the landscape of education has transformed in ways I never could have predicted. I remember sitting on a desk with a bunch of other faculty at Westwood HS in 1993 discussing the World Wide Web and how it could possibly change education. Wow! We had no idea!
There have been moments of brilliance, moments of comedy, and moments of sheer chaos in those 35 years. And somewhere along the way, I became part-instructional designer, part-IT support, and part-time coach. Who knew that I’d one day be troubleshooting WiFi issues while also trying to explain the nuances of APA documentation. Even in a digital world, nothing replaces a well-timed pep talk, an encouraging email, or a spontaneous laugh shared over a technical glitch. “Just turn it off and restart that computer.” That used to fix it every time.
I’ve learned that students are more engaged when they feel heard, whether that’s through a discussion board post at 2 a.m. or an impromptu debate over whether a particular sentence is a run-on or not. Who argues with their English teacher about that? Navigating the world of Zoom, breakout rooms, and “Can everyone hear me?” moments has been a learning curve, but one that ultimately expanded the reach of education way before Covid.
I will miss the energy of a classroom deep in discussion, the playful groans when I announce a group project, and the pride in a student’s eyes when they realize they’ve written something truly great. I’ll miss the camaraderie of my colleagues and the sense of being part of something bigger than myself. Teaching has never been just a job; it’s been a calling, a community, and sometimes, let’s be honest, a bit of a circus. But I’m not done yet. I think I’ll stick around for at least one more year and give “just teaching” a try. No leading a committee, no painfully maneuvering through a software purchase, no trainings, no leading ecourses. Just teaching.
Embracing AI in Writing Instruction: A Look at Packback’s Writing Lab
Time is wearing me down. Yep. We, as community college educators, are facing an evolving challenge: how do we equip students with the skills to thrive in a world that increasingly blends traditional methods with cutting-edge technologies? I’ve written about Packback before with its innovative way of engaging students in asynchronous discussion boards. Today, I want to talk about Packback’s new Writing Lab. They boast they are here to bridge that gap, offering a solution that doesn’t just use AI for convenience but actively teaches students how to write more effectively, with and without AI assistance. Seems ideal, doesn’t it?
So what is Writing Lab? Writing Lab is a “direct-to-student AI-powered platform” designed to help students refine their writing skills independently. Unlike traditional AI tools that “write for you,” Writing Lab focuses on pedagogy and mastery-based learning. It provides real-time feedback on grammar, structure, readability, and logic, making it a supportive writing companion for students working on essays, research papers, or even creative pieces. I could never provide real-time feedback to my students like that. But here’s where it gets interesting. Writing Lab is available to students at GCC who are in Packback-integrated classrooms. So if you adopt Packback (it’s free – district pays), you can just set up your class to let students access Writing Lab independently. It’s like sending them to the Writing Center.
Let’s face it. AI tools like ChatGPT, Grammarly, and the 10+ other bots out there have thrown a curveball at academic writing. Some of us are grappling with questions about how to maintain high standards and integrity in the writing process while embracing these new technologies. If Writing Lab can help students build AI literacy while fostering foundational writing skills, it’s a “best of both worlds” approach that recognizes AI as a partner, not a crutch. I’ve got my rose-colored glasses on here and fingers crossed.
I like the idea that Writing Lab flags issues like logical fallacies or unsupported claims, offering explanations rather than just corrections. This encourages critical thinking and helps students understand why revisions are necessary. It also claims to help students with source credibility and citation support. Students receive feedback on the reliability of their sources and can generate citations in APA, MLA, or Chicago styles. It even assigns “Credibility Scores” to sources, helping students discern quality research. The more I read about Packback’s Writing Lab, the more I see my retirement future. I can’t wait to try this out this spring. Another feature I like is it’s plagiarism prevention. Instead of punishing plagiarism, Writing Lab proactively alerts students to potentially uncredited text and prompts them to cite appropriately. It even guides them on citing AI-generated suggestions transparently, a skill becoming increasingly relevant in academic and professional writing. Pretty cool, no?
Okay, I’m starting to sound like an ad for Packback. Truth is, I’m torn between wanting to prepare students not just for their current courses but for the realities of the professional world. AI is not going away, and I’m already seeing more and more student use, and that’s not permitted use. We’ve got to find a balance for ethical use of AI, where tools like Writing Lab can hopefully serve as an extension of our classroom and not a means to cheat. Students using it could gain confidence and competence, reducing the time I spend grading and marking basic errors and allowing me to focus on higher-level feedback. Ah, that would be really nice. I can’t wait to try it. For more information, send me an email, and I’ll forward it to our Packback Curriculum Consultant, Naomi Campbell (not the British fashion model, I’m sure), who is standing in for our regular support person, Katie Horan.
Additional Information
Video Discussions are a Superior Option for Asynchronous Online Learning
In online education, asynchronous discussions are a key component of engaging students and encouraging participation in a flexible learning environment. Traditionally, these discussions have been text-based, with students posting written responses to prompts and replying to their peers. However, the rise of video platforms and tools like Canvas Studio, the late Flip (rest in peace), Kaltura, Screencast-O-Matic, Padlet, and others has opened the door to a more dynamic and interactive approach: video discussions. Integrating video discussions into online courses offers several key advantages, enhancing both the educational experience and community-building efforts.
The biggest reason I made the switch to video discussion is because of AI. As AI tools become more accessible, some students often turn to AI to generate text responses for asynchronous discussions. While this can save time, it undermines the authenticity and value of the learning process. AI-generated responses can come across as disingenuous, lacking the personal touch and deeper understanding that real human input provides. The result is a discussion that feels robotic and unengaging. This can make the overall conversation dull and uninspiring, as students simply churn out polished but formulaic responses without truly engaging with the material or their peers. Video discussions, on the other hand, make it much harder for students to rely on AI tools, ensuring that the content is genuinely their own and that they are actively participating in the learning process.
One of the main criticisms of online learning is the lack of personal connection compared to face-to-face classes. Video discussions bridge this gap by allowing students to see and hear each other, creating a more humanized and engaging interaction. Facial expressions, tone of voice, and body language add layers of communication that are absent in text discussions, fostering deeper connections between students and instructors. Video discussions enable learners to feel like they’re part of a real community, rather than just a series of names on a screen. This can be especially important for students who may feel isolated in an online environment. Seeing their classmates speak directly to the camera creates a sense of immediacy and involvement, helping to build camaraderie and rapport in the virtual classroom.
This semester I made the switch from Flip to Padlet for my video discussions in my journalism courses. After 3 weeks I can see a real connection between the students in the class. I can see the authenticity of their videos and feel it encourages students to speak more naturally and conversationally compared to the often formal, stilted language used in written posts. This leads to more dynamic exchanges and often deeper, more thoughtful reflections. Video discussions also tend to capture attention more effectively. Students are likely to watch a brief video response from a peer rather than reading through lengthy text posts, thus encouraging more active participation in ongoing discussions. I know that I’ve moved from spot-reading posts to watching all of their videos. I wish I could show you some of the cool interactions that have already transpired so far in these video discussions. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
