why “social justice graduate programs” don’t work

Izzie V
Izzie V
Nov 3 · 4 min read

*Let me preface the following by also acknowledging it takes an immense amount of privilege to pursue a graduate degree especially as a first-generation graduate student; ultimately I decided to make that choice and also made the choice to complete my degree. The following are my opinions and experiences and do not necessarily reflect the thoughts of (and/or target) individuals in my program (students, staff, faculty, etc).

Photo by Roel Dierckens on Unsplash

I’m an advocate for my communities and myself first, and an academic second — so of course I was excited for the opportunity graduate school provided to hold both simultaneously. I saw several program descriptions that looked similar to:

Our program values social justice to prepare academic researchers and community organizers. As a graduate student, you will receive mentoring and become integral within diverse communities to make impactful changes…

… or something like that. Throw in a couple other buzzwords, some faculty of color, and you’ll have some well-intentioned promises that sound pleasant to the budding “scholar-activist” … but ultimately fall short. I could continuously rattle on about the imperfections of my graduate school experience, but I’ll concisely limit myself to 3 main takeaways:

1 — Everything they said they wouldn’t do, they will.

“There won’t be any hierarchy. We won’t tokenize you. We won’t use your experiences as trauma porn. ”

If this was true, why require a ‘diversity statement’ and describe ‘what challenges you have overcome’? Why promise the opportunity to have opinions and suggestions from students to implement change upon the program, when conversations are still held behind closed doors and no change occurs (and/or changes occur without notice to students or community members?) Why try to homogenize experiences and/or assume they are like yours? Is it just because we are all from (and/or trying to serve) marginalized communities?

Personally, I’m part of the LGBTQ+ community, I’m multi-ethnic, I present as a “woman” but use they/them pronouns, and I speak 4 languages — they will take this knowledge, slap variations of this on testimonials, and suddenly I become a walking admissions brochure.

2 — There is no form of accountability.

If every person in the university has power over you — who do you report unfair treatment to?

I was constantly in a seemingly never ending cycle:

Step 1: Someone does/says something hurtful AND/OR something in the curriculum is problematic/harmful
Step 2: Bring it up to other students in my program
Step 3: Group realization that it is not a one time occurrence
Step 4: Bring it up to specific faculty
Step 4.1: Have faculty validation and suggestion to bring it up during a town hall meeting
Step 5: Arrange for a town hall discussion with entire program
Step 6.1: Suggest changes and alternative procedures
Step 6.2: Have faculty/staff feel personally attacked
Step 6.3: Feel guilty for critiquing the program
Step 6.4: Feel invalidated
Step 6.5: Feel silenced
Step 7: Remain silent until another occurrence happens, then repeat process

When doing “social justice work”, miscommunication, lack of knowledge, and mistakes are inevitable; what matters is how these issues are addressed and perpetrators of harm are held accountable. We often preach “intent vs impact” meaning we can acknowledge when someone (including ourselves) might have good intentions, but if the impact is negative, that needs to be validated as well. More often than not, I was tasked with the responsibility for creating change through giving my opinions and sharing my experiences in the program— yet if it I did not align within models that allow university figures to remain unaccountable, my suggested solutions were suddenly invalid.

3 — The constant perpetuation of every -ism.

For this, I’d like to provide some scenarios (have fun making guesses on the types of oppression happening in each one):

Scenario 1:
There was another graduate student in my program named Student A. Student A was also presented as an “asian woman”. For some reason, I had been referred to as “Student A”… more than once … by at least three different faculty/staff members.

Scenario 2:
I was commended on my usage of “they/them” pronouns when referring to someone at another university. Quote: “Wow, you’re really good at using those pronouns when you don’t know her gender.”

Scenario 3:
I was promised some type of financial aid / student assistantship — what they didn’t tell me was that it was only guaranteed for the first year and pulled my funding for my second year.


It’s disheartening that a “social justice” program which preaches “community, family, growth, etc” can also repeat and reinforce systemic oppression (then again, the entire educational system in the United States is flawed and elitist to begin with so am I actually surprised?) Perhaps I was disillusioned by the idea of integrating my dedication to community organizing and newfound passion for research, that despite not setting expectations for the program, I wholeheartedly believed in all of the program’s promises no matter how outlandish; and when I was seemingly “let down” by people who “looked like me / had similar experiences to me”, it hurt twice as much.

By no means do I regret my decision to pursue a Master’s degree; had I not, I would not have met my amazing cohort AND I knew I’d be left with a lot of “what ifs” and internalized doubt. Similarly, I do not think the current status of my program is(or even programs similar to mine are) unchangeable — I can only hope that the faculty, students, and university itself can continue to change, do better, and take accountability for the hurt they’ve done to others and currently perpetuate.

Izzie V

Written by

Izzie V

a mixed queer trying to balance creative writing, advocacy work, and newfound embroidery hobby.

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