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This paper presents a study of agency among undergraduate, gender-expansive Black and Latin* students with queer sexual identities in navigating interlocking systems of racism and cisheteropatriarchy in STEM. Drawing on the queer of color critique perspective (Brockenbrough, 2015), we define agency as everyday actions among queer students of color to negotiate their identities and sense of belonging with intersectional oppression. Our study addresses the research question: What forms of agency do gender-expansive Black and Latin* students with queer sexual identities exhibit to protect their identities and perceived STEM ability?
Participants included three Black and three Latin* students with varying gender-expansive (e.g., gender fluid, nonbinary, transmasculine) and sexual identities (e.g., gay, pansexual), all of whom were assigned female at birth. Students attended large, public, and historically white U.S. research universities. STEM autobiographies, journaling, and two individual interviews (one for member checking) were used to explore different dimensions of STEM experiences (e.g., faculty relationships, peer interactions). The framework of STEM education as a white, cisheteropatriarchal space (BLIND; BLIND) guided coding for ideological, institutional, and relational influences that shaped oppression and agency. We synthesized codes into themes of agency developed through counter-storytelling (Solórzano & Yosso, 2001).
Here, we highlight one theme from our paper -- students managing expressions of identity (e.g., appearance, queer disclosure) to protect themselves from deficit judgments of STEM ability. Ximena (they/them, Mexican, agender, pansexual, mechanical engineering) engaged in “code-switching” to navigate underrepresentation in STEM classrooms. For example, Ximena was “not going to argue [in classes] because [they] don’t want to be seen as spicy,” a stereotype of Latina women’s behavior. Ximena also avoided the vulnerability of making mistakes in their STEM work as a queer student of color by “being private about [their] sexuality” and “minimizing [their] own character… to fit the mold” of white, straight cis-male engineers. Lisa (they/them, Black, genderfluid, bisexual, biology) described how buzzing their 20-inch hair allowed them to “feel more true to [themself] even though… it’s not necessarily saying or putting a label that [they’re] genderfluid or bisexual.” However, Lisa also modified their behavior to navigate racialized-gendered perceptions of aggression and academic incompetence with their buzzed head in STEM classrooms. They discussed “speaking in a way that doesn’t make [them] look threatening or make [them] look like [they] don’t know what [they’re] doing,” such as avoiding Black vernacular and softening their voice. While Ximena’s and Lisa’s cases varyingly depict agency through tactical expressions of identity, the emotional and psychological toll in coping with exclusionary views of STEM ability in these ways must not be overlooked.
The scholarly significance of our analysis is twofold. First, we fill the research gap on queer and trans* students in STEM by taking an intersectional approach and disrupting the focus on cisgender experiences (Cech & Waidzunas, 2011). Second, we extend queer of color research on student experiences of navigating campus environments broadly (e.g., Garvey et al., 2019; Nicolazzo, 2016) that left implicit the impact of STEM as a uniquely oppressive academic space.