Although the “Diversity, Community, and Belonging” page on MFS’s website states that our commitment to diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging (DEIB) is “rooted in our Quaker values,” that commitment can fall flat in some areas of our school, where undisciplined bias creates a culture that represses a true diversity of opinions.
Community panels, our numerous affinity groups, and what we are taught in classes all properly represent our commitment to DEIB. However, I feel that the Diversity Committee does not.
The Diversity Committee, which I attend regularly, holds conversations about community or global issues that pertain to diversity and inclusion. It’s a rarely acknowledged privilege that our school allows us to have these conversations; while I am grateful for them, it sometimes feels as if the conversations don’t include meaningful discourse.
That’s not necessarily the fault of the committee itself; it’s the fault of the culture at MFS, where students with less popular opinions don’t feel comfortable enough to share them.
Specifically, I’m referring to conservative views. According to a WordsWorth survey, right-leaning students make up only five percent of the student body. I see this in interactions with peers — if I’m discussing politics with someone, I rarely hear right-leaning perspectives. I also observe this in Diversity Committee meetings.
Most, if not all, of the opinions expressed in committee discussions are more left-leaning or progressive. My opinions are part of that majority, but that does not mean that’s all I want to hear; in fact, I wish that I’d hear more views that I disagree with. It’s unusual for me to hear something that I wouldn’t have said myself. This may be the Diversity Committee’s greatest flaw.
In a committee devoted to conversations where opinions differ, we do the exact opposite: the opinions expressed by the loudest voices in the room mirror the majority of the Diversity Committee. By only hearing my own thoughts parroted from someone else’s mouth, I am left without knowledge of other sides of a story, and in turn, an incomplete understanding of the nuances of the topics we discuss.
The homogeneity of the expressed views at MFS contributes to our slightly politically tense community. In general, when people hear an opinion they do not agree with, they are angered and immediately disagree with it. I’m not bashing this reaction — I’ve been guilty of it, and I think it’s a natural response for humans to have. However, it has flaws that affect the inclusivity of a space; when someone reacts this way, they prevent themselves from gaining a new perspective on a topic and silence the person with whom they disagree. I’ve seen many people at MFS, including some who attend the Diversity Committee, have this reaction instead of pausing and attempting to understand where the other person is coming from, or at the very least engaging in healthy discourse to hear them out.
The fact that our school is so committed to DEIB, but some of us still have that reaction, represents a shortcoming in MFS’s purported values. Though our school’s website claims to encourage students to “[engage] in respectful discourse [to allow students] to gain a deeper understanding of themselves and others,” I feel that in some spaces, we fail to. This is in part because our confirmation bias is not challenged at our school, especially in the Diversity Committee.
The lack of discourse across the political spectrum at MFS creates a bubble around our school where students begin to believe that not hearing the other side of the story is normal.
This has larger implications outside of our school’s bubble: upon leaving MFS, we may begin to contribute to the growing culture that discourages the acknowledgement of nuance when we need it most.
