There’s usually no clapping in Student Government unless someone’s trying to rev up the crowd. Four DEIB practitioner classmates took the stage to present a seminar reflecting on the Student Government year. They began with their own takeaways, then opened the floor to anyone who wanted to approach the mic. That’s when the room shifted. Applause broke out. So did chaos. What followed was a series of pointed callouts—naming names, airing grievances, and labeling past and current SG dynamics as “sexist.” The conversation wasn’t framed as an open dialogue—it was framed as a problem, with blame already assigned. The tone turned accusatory fast, and instead of pushing the conversation forward, it hardened the lines between people who might otherwise agree. In a school that claims to model democratic discourse, this moment revealed how quickly things can fall apart when conversations begin with conclusions.
The DEIB Class students’ central claim was that Student Government has a sexism problem. But when pressed for examples, the only one offered was the Model Home protest of Lola’s authority—a situation with multiple perspectives and no clear consensus. During the Q&A, several students asked how the situation was sexist. The presenters struggled to answer. And while their intentions were genuine and their concerns valid, the conversation lost focus. Rather than generating reflection, it stirred confusion and defensiveness.
Here are the facts: Model Home, a group composed of only boys, countered Lola in front of the assembly and were able to successfully garner support from their many male underclassmen in the audience. This was sexist bullying. Members of the assembly went on to pose the question: how do we know it’s sexist? However, the DEIB Class students did not answer the question, and stated that it was simply a fact. Give me an example of one cis-gendered man in the history of the school who was singularly bullied off stage by the audience of women who suffered no consequence for it? another assembly member asked. Not only was the situation sexist, it was systemic, accepted, and applauded in the moment. It was only through a tenacious few that an apology was garnered by one member of the offending parties. It is highly doubtful that the apologetic contingent will be the new systemic norm. And that was with a bipartisan audience. Imagine if it were an audience that was 90% male with no adult enforcement and no due process of school code? It’s a sad and common social study of gender dynamics that is unfortunately widely accepted.
In some ways, that DEIB seminar became a case study in how hard it is to host truly productive conversations at our school. It’s not that people don’t care—they care deeply. It’s that we often start with conclusions instead of questions. We speak in broad, emotionally charged terms without clearly defining the issue at hand. Whether we’re talking about Student Government, Israel-Palestine, or inclusion, we shy away from specificity and vulnerability. If we really want to grow as an “embryonic democracy,” we have to be willing to get more honest, more direct, and yes, sometimes more uncomfortable with one another – and with ourselves.
If anything, the seminar revealed a deeper issue: at Parker, we talk a big game when it comes to covering the hot topics, but then we drop the plate when it’s hot to the touch. When discourse gets muddy, we lack the ability to streamline to clarity. We pride ourselves on being DEIB-focused. The language is everywhere—in mission statements, advisory lessons, even casual conversations. But when it comes time to actually walk the walk about identity, inclusion, or injustice in a concrete way, we freeze. We get vague, overly careful, or overly accusatory. We either soften everything to the point of meaninglessness or come in so hot that dialogue becomes impossible. The result is that our conversations don’t land. We circle around hard topics without ever getting to the heart of them. And that’s not a failure of intent—it’s a failure of practice, and a failure of modeling.
And here’s the truth: if we actually want clarity, we’re going to have to get messier, first. We need to stop receiving critique as an attack. We need to stop assuming someone asking “where’s the sexism?” is trying to invalidate another’s experience—they might just want clarity, not disparage. We need fewer fluffy talking points and more uncomfortable facts. If you’re leading a conversation, come prepared. If you’re making a claim, back it up. If you care about justice, be ready to be challenged. If you want to progress past “embryonic,” take some growing pains. Real DEIB work isn’t about who claps the loudest, it’s about who’s still standing when the conversation gets real.