If you’re anything like me, January 2025 has felt impossibly long—almost like an entire year crammed into 1 month. Thinking back to the election in November 2024 feels inconceivable. How was that only 2 and a half months ago?! Yet, in just a few months, the sociopolitical environment has shifted dramatically—for instance, federal grant funding was frozen and then unfrozen; there has been substantial pushback against diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives both in academe and the business world; and immigration enforcement operations have begun nationwide.
During this period, especially as executive orders continue to be signed, I have frequently oscillated between shock and horror to defeat and despair. There are, however, some quiet moments when a wave of resolve and fortitude manages to wash over. After all, political opinions aside, research in our field consistently shows us that diversity—across identities, backgrounds, and perspectives—make for better workplaces and societies.
But, if I am being completely honest, even in my best moments of resolve and fortitude, I can’t help but feel a sinking sense of helplessness. How do I channel even the strongest feelings of resolve and fortitude into something meaningful? In what ways can we continue to use our power as academics to advocate for thoughtful, informed conversations and positive change? Is there even space for that within our institutions and our fields?
Of course, because my nerd tendencies are high, I’ve recently thought about the response to these questions in ways that we often think about our academic careers: (a) research, (b) teaching, and (c) service. Indeed, we are fortunate that our jobs give us the unique ability to create impact in multiple ways, ensuring that if—like me—you are looking to channel the resolve and fortitude you feel in the quiet moments, there are various ways we can still make some good, and necessary, trouble.
Research
As someone who researches employees’ diverse nonwork identities and experiences, the current narrative surrounding this work is beyond disheartening. In fact, there have been times when I have panicked and wondered whether I need to rethink my research identity, beginning new projects covering other domains. But I keep coming back to the importance—now more than ever—of using our skills to not only harness the power of unbiased data but also to give voice to the experiences of those who feel particularly unvalued and unseen right now. Indeed, as the fight for dismantling diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts across all aspects of society continues, we have a responsibility to ensure that evidence-based management practices are part of the conversation. Perhaps you choose to do that by being a scholar conducting the research behind the scenes or by being an expert on call when journalists are looking to cover the latest large-scale company that has rolled back on their equity and inclusion efforts—both are essential, valuable, and critical roles to take on right now.
This is also a time to find other ways to amplify the work that is being done in these spaces. For instance, collaborating with practitioners and community organizations can be especially valuable, highlighting and directly implementing scholarship in this area. And there may be no better way to continue sustaining progress in this research domain than mentoring the next generation of scholars, encouraging them to similarly acquire the skills of conducting high-quality research and letting the data guide us in developing policies and programs for better workplaces.
Teaching
Like many others, I’m always nervous and hesitant about addressing “hot button” topics in class—especially when they are so tightly wrapped up in polarizing political debates. When the election results came out in November, I spent more time than I’d like to admit on whether I should address them in the classroom. Ultimately, I did (more on what I said here) and do not regret it for a second. Over the last 2 class days of the semester, I had students across each of my three sections wait until the end to tell me how much they appreciated that discussion. I say this not to toot my own horn but rather to underscore the importance of fostering open and honest classroom discussions. In fact, my sense is that our students—particularly undergraduates—are looking for spaces where they can openly discuss, question, and engage with current sociopolitical events. Doing so can feel uncomfortable, and it certainly requires spending time creating a classroom environment that facilitates productive dialogue (I personally like spending a couple of minutes early in the semester asking the students to cocreate norms of a classroom environment they want to see and be part of and then later remind them of these norms; here, here, and here are other good resources). Psychological safety in the classroom should not equate to avoiding discomfort; rather, there should be safety in the ability to nonjudgmentally share different ideas and perspectives, explore complex topics, and critically examine the world around us.
Yet, I fully recognize that—depending on the institution and the state—it may feel far too risky to have these sorts of conversations in the classroom. If so, perhaps there are ways to signal that your office is the safe space where students can feel comfortable chatting about these topics. Or there may be on-campus clubs and societies looking for faculty members that could greatly benefit from additional mentorship and expertise. Either way, I steadfastly believe that our ability to interface with the next generation of community members, thought leaders, and business professionals is invaluable and a critical avenue through which we can effect change.
Service
In moments when I feel particularly stuck, I turn to service as a meaningful way to contribute. As much as possible, I try to craft service in ways that are both value congruent and fulfilling; this feels especially important right now. There may be certain department-, college-, or university-level committees that are pushing important initiatives forward or others that require working directly with students, representing yet another opportunity to have important conversations. In the field, several professional organizations have committees that can always benefit from membership (e.g., SIOP’s Disability, Inclusion, and Accessibility, Diversifying I-O Psychology Program, and LGBTQIA+ Committees, and the Women’s Inclusion Network) as well as grant applications specifically for topics associated with equity and inclusion (e.g., LGBTQIA+ Trailblazer Award; Hebl Grant for Reducing Gender Inequities in the Workplace), which could always benefit from volunteer evaluators. This might also be a good time to assess whether other identity groups need more attention and could benefit from new initiatives and/or committees. More broadly, there are always opportunities to develop the crucial skills of being an ally and practice them day to day.
As we navigate the coming years, I hope we always remember that the value of diversity lies in its breadth—spanning identities, perspectives, and backgrounds—including political thought, which is often overlooked. As academics, we have the power, privilege, and responsibility to ensure that our spaces reflect our commitment to all forms of diversity—be that through the research we engage in or amplify, the students we interact with and inspire, or the ways in which we give back to our institutions, field, and communities. Our work is far from over. In fact, I might go so far as to say that it is only just beginning.
