When explaining what it means to co-design with youth, Equity Designer Corrina Hui says, “We ask youth what is working for them and what is not. Decision-makers are in closed-door rooms trying to solve dilemmas for kids. Youth are experts of their learning—why are we not asking them?”

As defined by the National Equity Project, “Educational equity is the state that would be achieved if how one fares was no longer predictable by any social, cultural or economic factor.” When it comes to designing for equity, Corrina draws from her personal experience as a student of color who was accepted to an elite college preparatory school that was 80 percent white. As a first-generation Chinese-American in the heavily segregated Bay Area, Corrina had been used to attending school mostly with other kids who looked like her. It was at the prep school that she realized the difference between the curriculum she’d been taught, versus what had been taught to those who had been given access to elite private elementary and middle schools.

Despite excelling in math, Corrina surprised everyone in her life by choosing not to pursue the subject in college. “What I realized was, you can give kids all the academic support they want, but the missing piece, for me, was what nobody talked about: the racism and sexism at play, all those things that were causing me emotional distress. There were only two girls in my class, which meant every day, I’m proving girls can do math. It’s a disproportionate burden—my performance had to represent all of the women not present in that room.” Compounding those issues was the fact that Corrina was a slow and deep thinker in an environment where speed and fixed-mindset notions of success were rampant. For example, with team projects, she was left to face tasks alone because her group mates deemed her need to fully absorb information before contributing as “too slow.”  

Corrina now realizes how designing for equity could have helped her when she was younger. “Teachers have design decisions every day,” Corrina explains. “If you have 40 problems you need your students to practice, you could put those 40 problems on one sheet, or you could put them on 40 color-coded index cards and hide them around the playground and make it an obstacle course.” This way, the students would still be solving the requisite number of problems, but doing so at their own pace (i.e., having the ability to choose the difficulty level of each problem they find and solve thanks to the color-coding).  

“Teachers are designers because they have opportunities like this,” Corrina says. “It’s the same with the classroom—some have four rows of perfectly straight desks with 10 columns, all facing the front of the room, where the teacher is centered. In my classroom, my students used the design thinking process to build their own desks.” Her students built standing-height desks, so they could stand or sit on stools. “This allowed the classroom to be flexible—sometimes we’d put two student-built desks together to form small groups, and other times, we’d push all the tables to the perimeter and sit in a circle on the floor.

This Spring, Bayha Group is partnering with Corrina to bring her model of co-designing with youth to Southern California with a series of workshops made possible by the Performance Partnership Pilots (P3) project by the Southeast Los Angeles County Workforce Development Board (SELACO).

“We’re creating these experiences because we both believe in co-creating with youth,” says June Bayha. “It means really spending time to listen and to understand from their perspective what would be helpful and having them lead. There will be guidance, but overall, this whole project will be mostly directed by the very people we want to serve: a demographic known as ‘disconnected youth.’”

This five-workshop series will take place at Somerset High School in Bellflower Unified School District.

Corrina gives an overview of the workshops to participating Somerset High students

As an equity designer, Corrina approaches all learning environments from the perspective of these four tenets (though they are only part of her extensive toolkit):

  • Self-awareness of who she is bringing (or not) to any person or context
  • Understanding the effects of systemic oppression on the outcomes of design behavior
  • Actively co-designing to interrupt oppressive structures like white supremacy, patriarchy, and capitalism
  • Sharing the equity design practice toward a co-construction of the liberation of humanity

The way the current education system is set up is based on antiquated ideals that don’t fit with modern needs. “We’re training kids for the Industrial Revolution when what they really need in the Information Era is critical thinking, creative thinking, and the ability to be prepared for the unknown,” Corrina says. “If all you know are procedural skills, your job has already been automated. But that’s the capitalist argument. I’d like to turn it to the humanity and equity lenses.”

Corrina draws on lessons from history, such as the oppression and suppression of Native American identities, to the segregation that persists in contemporary educational institutions. “Thomas Jefferson in 1779 said that we should have a two-track education system—one for the laboring and one for the learned. Today, there is research that shows achievement on standardized tests are predictable by race and socioeconomic status. We have to consciously redesign, or else we’re perpetuating a system that’s working perfectly, exactly as it was designed.”

Corrina’s greatest hope for these workshops is to help students “recognize the systemic and institutional racism that have impacted their institutional journey.” She does this by helping youth discover their strengths, which have likely not been valued in their academic experience. For example, during a workshop in Oakland, she helped students realize that though they did not score well on tests, they were already demonstrating their keen sense of entrepreneurship and understanding of math by rushing to purchase new items by the popular clothing brand Supreme, and reselling at a markup so that they could afford to buy clothes for themselves. “By recognizing their strengths in a non-academic space, it gave them the courage to build new skills in the academic space,” Corrina says.

Though she will be facilitating discussions and guiding students throughout these workshops, Corrina says she plans to step out of the way as much as possible. “The students here are the experts. Let them present to you the journey they’re on and identify their purpose.” Helping students “identify their purpose” is a major goal of this project. And “purpose” isn’t just about identifying a potential profession to pursue, such as “doctor” or “lawyer.” Rather, it’s a recognition of multiple strengths that, upon identifying, helps students figure out what it is they want to contribute to the world.

“I want them to develop their intrinsic motivation,” Corrina explains. “I do that by holding space for them to notice the beauty in their lived experiences and stories, helping them see the inherent strengths they all have associated to those lived experiences, particularly those that have not been called ‘successful’ in schools. This will help them realize what the narratives have been, to recognize their internalized messages, like ‘you can’t,’ or ‘you won’t.’ We’re challenging the narrow definition of ‘success’ that is driven by white supremacy, colonization, and patriarchy in order to empower ourselves by understanding and redefining. These workshops will help students make the invisible visible so they can reflect and repair. They will have the opportunity to identify and challenge those messages, and have space to dream big and realize they are capable of doing whatever they want and that we are here to support them.”

To see how these workshops progress, stay tuned to our Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter account for updates, images, and video of this project, or visit this blog and Corrina Hui’s web site.

 

Technology in the field of genetics is advancing faster than we humans can determine the benefits and ramifications presented by each potential use. This is why undertakings such as the Personal Genetics Education Project (pgEd) are imperative. Housed within the Department of Genetics at Harvard Medical School, pgEd’s primary goal is to “increase awareness and conversation about the benefits and ethical, legal, and social implications of personal genetics.” Personal genetics is concerned with sequencing, analyzing, and interpreting the genome of an individual, or the unique code of DNA that affects health and appearance among other things. To better understand why it’s so important that not only doctors, but also every individual have access to information surrounding personal genetics, we had a conversation with geneticist and pgEd’s Director of Programs Marnie Gelbart, Ph.D.

PgEd’s mission is for all people to have access to information, and all voices to be heard in the conversation about how society uses genetic technologies moving forward. One goal is for people to have information about the potential benefits and ramifications of certain genetic tests before they are patients sitting in a doctor’s office in a vulnerable moment. Dr. Gelbart explains, “One of the front lines of genomic medicine is pediatrics — kids who are sick with rare conditions, sometimes conditions that have never been seen before.” It’s in these situations that doctors tend to run test after test in search of a diagnosis, and genome sequencing can replace or reduce some of that testing. Some tests may help find an answer, but it could also reveal information people may or may not want to know, such as a child’s predisposition to breast cancer, Alzheimer’s, or whether they’re biologically related to their parents.

Teaching people about personal genetics is not about encouraging them to get tested, so much as granting them agency. “I want people to be able to speak up for themselves,” Dr. Gelbart says. “To be very clear, pgEd doesn’t promote the use of genetic technologies, we promote access to information.” By encountering this information and considering implications prior to a vulnerable moment, people may feel more prepared for those moments.  

Decisions about the use of genetic technologies is not only for individuals and families but also raises questions for society as a whole. Dr. Gelbart says, “Genetics has a horrible history of eugenics, which is a movement that started in the United States. Many groups of people were affected by this movement, which targeted people of color, women, people perceived to have disabilities, immigrants from certain countries, and those who were poor. Now as geneticists — as the people bringing these new technologies into the world — we have a huge responsibility to do anything we can for that not to happen again.”

One way to prevent one group from placing value judgements on certain genetic markers is to engage with as many different communities as possible. “A lot of that history inspired pgEd, and why it formed to engage our communities so that they also can weigh in on how these technologies are used going forward,” Dr. Gelbart says. The project is helmed by a small team of fewer than 10 people, and prioritization is sometimes a struggle in the face of such an gargantuan mission as educating the world about these new technologies. “We had a group of African American pastors come to Boston from Baltimore, and someone helping us orchestrate the meeting happened to be Muslim. At the end, he said, ‘That was a really powerful meeting, it’s great that pgEd wants to reach out to communities of faith, but why not the Muslim community?’ There is no answer, of course; why not? And actually, he joined pgEd so that he can help us start to work on that.”

In addition to programs that reach out to teachers and communities of faith, pgEd works to educate lawmakers. “We’re not there to advocate one way or another, and that’s the major reason we can get people in the room,” Dr. Gelbart says. “We’re not there to complain, lobby, or ask for money — we just want them to know what is happening in the space of genetics.” Speakers intentionally leave a lot of time for questions. This is done not only for Congress, but for all audiences, as, “That’s the best way to know what the audiences is interested in.” For example, while working with Muslim communities, an imam spoke up about genome editing being used in pig cells with the goal of making pigs a more suitable source of organs for transplant. “A choice of pigs could be problematic for Muslim communities,” Dr. Gelbart says. “That’s an important question and conversation about why that’s happening, and if there is any chance that kind of research will move to another animal. That can be really illuminating.”

Dr. Gelbart speaking at a Congressional briefing

In another example, she recalls work her colleagues are doing in underserved communities in the Boston area. “We often ask students about traits that they might want to select for their children. We could be in a room of black and brown students, and often at least one student will say, ‘blonde hair and blue eyes.’ For so many scientists, there are a lot of questions about the predictive value for those tests that are considered trivial, such as hair color and eye color. But I will say for communities where they are discriminated against based on their appearance, hair color and eye color are not trivial traits. There are safety ramifications, financial ramifications.”

This is why, Dr. Gelbart insists, it’s so important for pgEd to initiate conversations surrounding personal genetics. “For pgEd, education is truly two-way. We go in with something to share, and even more to learn,” she says. “It’s amazing how quickly a room can go from one where people come in, not sure if anything we’re going to talk about is relevant to them, to actually making very deep, personal, familial, and societal connections.”

In May of 2016, pgEd was awarded a grant by the National Institutes of Health Science Education Partnership Award (SEPA) program. One of the requirements for this grant was to have an evaluator external to the project. “I was very lucky to have met June [Bayha] at the National Academies of Science,” Dr. Gelbart says. “In her heart, June cares about doing good in the world, and she cares about the work, and making the work more effective, more powerful — that the work should come first.” The project involves developing curriculum geared toward high school audiences. There are professional development workshops for teachers and full lessons plans relevant to several subjects, including Social Studies, Humanities, Health, and Athletics. Bayha Group is developing surveys and measuring tools to determine the success of this program. “What we want is to put pgEd under a microscope and find how we can be effective in partnering with teachers in a meaningful way,” Dr. Gelbart says. “We’re entering our third year, and just starting to hear back from teachers who have come to our workshops. It’s still early on, but it’s really exciting. The teachers are amazing.”

50 educators gathered for a “Genetics and Social Justice” workshop facilitated by pgEd

Though she doesn’t spend much time in workshops on the “nitty gritty science details,” if there were one scientific point Dr. Gelbart wishes to convey it would be the idea of complexity in her field. The idea that one gene is linked to a disease, with a one to one relationship is “by far the exception and not the rule of how genetics works,” she says. This simplification can lead to inaccurate and harmful interpretations. “That complexity is a reminder that it’s not so simple to understand the genetic underpinnings of traits like intelligence. IQ tests were developed around the time of the eugenics movement. But there’s a complexity of measuring: what are the things we’re interested to know about people and how do we measure them? Are those measures capturing what we really want to know? Why are we not measuring empathy? Another thing we can measure is the influence of many genes in combination with the environment and microbes that live all over our bodies. We have as many microbes on our body as human cells, if not more. We are dynamic beings. All of those pieces are important for looking back at that history and thinking about how we go forward.”

Ultimately, pgEd’s aim is not for people to walk away with any one opinion, but to become comfortable having these conversations. “Our hope is people become more comfortable talking about genetics, speaking up, and asking questions,” Dr. Gelbart says. “To appreciate the diversity of opinions that exists on the topic of genetics. Maybe not agreeing with everyone in the room, but coming away respecting people in that room, knowing they do not all agree. Our goal is not to convince people to use genetics, and not to dissuade them either, but to give them information and let them decide.”