Welcome to the April RN&R!
How did DEI become such a dirty abbreviation? Diversity, equity and inclusion were never about denying white people (or anyone from any group) opportunities in favor of underqualified people from any other group.
DEI programs are about our governments, institutions and corporations taking responsibility for the oppression, cruelty and economic disadvantage foisted upon many Americans for too many centuries—and the lingering hurdles that so many people still face as a result of this oppression, cruelty and economic disadvantage.
Ask any Black parent about the conversations they’ve had with their teens about interacting with law officers submissively during routine traffic stops. Ask any local Indigenous family about the trauma that still lingers, decades after their grandparents’ time in Indian boarding schools. Racism in America is not over. Systematic efforts to combat it are still very much in order. Yes, some of these efforts are ineffective, or inefficient, or characterized by counterproductive, liberal virtue signaling. We can certainly talk about that—but the Trump/Musk chainsaw method of destroying DEI altogether is going to cause incalculable damage and undermine countless milestones of progress.
This year, large companies like Target have rolled back their DEI initiatives, and the U.S. Department of Defense now backhandedly “honors” people like Jackie Robinson and the Navajo Code Talkers by insisting that the racial barriers they overcame should not be mentioned on official channels. (See “A Note From the Publisher” by Jimmy Boegle for more details.)
The list goes on. But you know what else goes on? The list of local people and organizations who refuse to cave in to the Trump administration’s moral gymnastics in the name of undermining civil rights, and who bravely stand up for the ideals of diversity, equity and inclusion.
Kudos to the many local educators who are forbidden from talking to the press on the record, but tell me stories by email, via text and at the dog park about their ongoing efforts to make sure our most vulnerable K-12 and college students can achieve their best. (See “‘A misinformation attack’—Local education advocates react to the Department of Education closure order” if you’d like to hear from the ones who can talk on the record.)
Kudos to the artists who eloquently record and process their experiences of otherness in the name of discussing what it’s like to be one individual human who is different from another individual human. Whether they come in the form of films, memoirs, podcasts or other storytelling vehicles, these accounts are important building blocks of a more compassionate society. One of these artists is Reno’s Dani Putney. At a moment when I would not fault any transgender or nonbinary person who wants to stay under the radar for their own safety, as they’re being villainized and dehumanized by the federal government, Dani is not hiding. They have processed the complicated story of coming to grips with their identity into a new volume of beautiful, thoughtful, hopeful poetry. Dani: I’m proud that Reno can call you one of its own! RN&R contributor Max Stone tells their powerful story on Page 22 of the print issue.
Kudos to the Nevada Museum of Art and Judith Lowry, the Susanville painter whose work the museum is now showcasing. Judith comes from a family with European, Indigenous and Australian ancestors. Many of her paintings show powerful moments from those ancestors’ stories. Judith sees these moments in hi-def 3D, in all their nuance, with an incredibly finely tuned emotional radar. One of her paintings can immediately convey all the mid-20th-century nostalgia you could ever want in an image—its subjects wear Hollywood-level-glamorous party attire or appear near a glitzy Las Vegas wedding chapel—without glossing over the pain of assimilation that pervades her family members’ lives. Judith pays homage to her own family, and to people everywhere who have been caught in the crosshairs of culture wars. Her paintings are among the most moving and compassionate works of art I’ve ever seen, and the museum did an incredible job of contextualizing them. (For more, see Chris Lanier’s review of the show.)
Educators, artists, Dani, Judith and the museum are engaged in exactly the acts of hope that we need right now—and you can count on me and the rest of the RN&R team to continue to keep their stories in the spotlight.