Our students who come from historically excluded populations face significant obstacles, starting from conception, that continue to disadvantage them all the way down to the molecular level. They must work harder than their advantaged peers, often for less success. The more disadvantages a student has, the more historically excluded categories they identify with (self‐identity or assumed identity), the harder their journey is. My personal ethos compels me to honor and respect the diverse populations I teach. It is important to acknowledge to individual students their background and how their status in any historically excluded category has impacted their learning to‐date.

My personal background is one of extreme privilege. I am white and come from an upper‐class family. I have every opportunity and resource imaginable at my disposal. I went to public school from kindergarten through 8th grade, then elected to go to boarding school for high school. Being at an elite college preparatory institution highlighted to me the disparities in the school system at home; my freshman year, my public school system re‐segregated; even at the age of 14 I knew that something was very wrong. As I grew into a young adult, I learned a great deal about the struggles of my queer friends and family and became determined to become an ally for them. I chose my memberships and affiliations with organizations, societies, and faith communities based on this.

The more I grow and diversify my circle of friends the more aware I become of the struggles of Black and Indigenous Persons of Color (BIPOC). The more aware of the history of mistreatament of BIPOC I become the more I seek to educate myself on these atrocities and how to be an ally. After I began teaching I went further: learning how to be an advocate.

In the fall of 2020, I attended a webinar series hosted by the American Mathematical Society titled Advocating for Students of Color: There’s More You Can Do. I began this webinar series believing that I was doing great but would learn how to be fantastic. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I embraced the hosts’ assertion that we can accomplish 5% actionable change every day to advocate for our students of color. This began a journey of self‐reflection, resulting in my adopting the mantra of ”give grace.”

Giving grace can have a profound impact.

One example of actionable change I introduced is a department‐wide (Auburn University Department of Mathematics and Statistics) reading of the book Asked and Answered: Dialogues on Advocating for Students of Color in Mathematics. The result was overwhelmingly positive, and it began with a simple question I asked my department chair: will the department buy copies in bulk for interested faculty and students?

I was invited by two of the hosts of the webinars to contribute a chapter, which I titled Intentional Advocacy and Establishing a New Norm, for their book Practices and Policies: Advocating for Students of Color in Mathematics, about my experience as an instructor. My self‐reflection on the ways I had been negatively impacting, potentially even harming, the students of color in my classroom was a painful, honest look at who I am, my values, what I intended to do, and the harsh reality that I was doing quite the opposite. In my chapter I expound on several instances of ”giving grace,” most notably a large amount of flexibility.

These experiences, the friendships that I have intentionally cultivated, the diverse voices I have purposefully sought to hear, have opened my eyes to the overwhelming impact that diversity, equity, and inclusion can have in my interactions with my students and my peers. I aspire to uphold my ideals and lead by example through outreach and advocacy.