Finding The Room I Didn’t Know I Needed

After 8 months of in-person school, this NRS junior traded in her mask for more Zoom meetings and the chance to attend an acclaimed conference.

The Student Diversity Leadership Conference (SDLC) is hosted by the National Association of Independent Schools (NAIS) and is a conference hailed for holding spaces for students to be as they are — something that, at times, is not readily available in their independent schools. SDLC was founded in 1993 by the NAIS with the help of 50 high school students. They were asked what issues surrounded them and how they would go about creating a space that would inspire and motivate people to create change. For the next 26 years, the conference would take place in Seattle, though for the past two it has been moved online, due to COVID-19. The mission of the conference is largely centered around themes of social justice, while still attempting to foster allyship among students.

Throughout the five days of the conference the NAIS implements a routine for its students, filling their days with keynote speakers, panels, affinity and family groups. All of that comes after what is known as one of the most important traditions in SDLC history: Silent Movement. Silent Movement is performed on the first day of the conference and is the first activity where students begin to actively engage and see one another. In person, statements are called out in relation to different categories such as gender, sexuality, and race/ethnicity; students silently stand up if that label applies to them, then sit down, and so on. Over Zoom, participants are asked to keep their cameras off until they hear something that they feel relates to them, and then turn them off again when the next statement is being read.

The beginning of Silent Movement was a nerve wracking experience for me, a junior who had been selected by NRS to attend the conference and represent the school, sitting at my dining room table at 9:15 AM, wrapped up in a blanket.

(Photo by Liam Waldman / The Jaguardian)

2021’s SDLC took place over Zoom, attracting over 2,000 online participants.

I’d spoken to SDLC alumni about their experiences, both in person and online, but actually participating in something where 1,000 plus other kids could visibly see me was overwhelming, to say the least. After turning my camera on and off a few times, I found that it was actually very liberating to put who I was into the world without needing to expand. There was no one to prod at my latinidad, no one to poke at my sexuality and ask if I was sure about it. I understand now why we started with that, because it set the tone of vulnerability that was to follow.

And it followed pretty quickly, actually, because after Silent Movement we went to our affinity groups, of which there were many to choose from. I struggled to choose between the LGBTQ+ and Latinx groups, ended up choosing the latter, and without knowing it then, chose exactly what would lead to a discussion on shared experiences, and an opportunity to convey that understanding to our community.

Having never known a school environment aside from New Roads, I’ve grown used to there being few Latines my age that I can relate to. In elementary school, there was only one girl who was also a Latina in my age, and she didn’t arrive until third grade. In middle school, there were more Latines, but a lot of them were older, too-cool eighth graders. In my own grade, we never quite knew how to talk with each other about our latinidad, so we never did. Freshman year was the first time I’d ever been around a group of Latines, and having that group of ten of us was liberating. Yet, I still remember feeling as if I owed thanks to the school’s administration for creating the space, never quite feeling like it was my own to have without asking for permission.

Needless to say, when I clicked on the Zoom call and saw that there were 200 of us in attendance, my heart soared. We unmuted to cheer for our countries, and when I heard those of my fellow Salvadorians, I felt something I’d never felt before. I keep my Salvadorian side hidden away, letting people assume I’m just Mexican because it’s easier that way, but in that space I was entirely myself, a bisexual Latina with no part of her identity locked away. Afterwards, we split up into breakout rooms, with a discussion prompt centered around what makes us proud to be Latine, and if we demonstrate that pride at our respective schools.

For a long time it’s felt like who I am at school and my Latinidad are diametrically opposed, and in my breakout room my feelings were completely validated. So many of us who attend predominantly white, independent schools expressed feeling that, as welcomed as we are at school, we’re still othered.

Throughout the week, I continued to feel validated in the experiences I shared, the microaggressions that felt like they couldn’t possibly be microaggressions, because we focus so much on the good that we’re left with an unclear view of the bad. Being asked to help with Spanish classes since elementary school, left me feeling confused as to why I, the student, was being asked to help take on the role of teacher for my classmates.

SDLC created the space that students need to be themselves, while still teaching techniques on how to bring what we’d learned back to our communities. A keynote speaker discussed tips on how to avoid being a bystander to escalating behaviors, and we later learned steps needed in order to achieve our goals of inclusivity in a realistic manner. It wasn’t perfect — the presentation on ableism felt slightly awkward, as if the presenters themselves didn’t know how to speak on the subject. There were arguments, a prompt about working hard and achieving goals sparked major debate amongst the attendees. Ironically, this conflict only served to show that even organizations working towards change are imperfect, allowing them room to grow and learn, alongside the next generation of leaders.