The rights of undergraduate queer and Trans* students of color as STEM majors

ABSTRACT

STEM is an exclusionary space for queer and trans* students of color (QTSOCs). A critical site of justice-oriented transformation to enhance support for QTSOCs is mathematics education, which has significant impacts on access to STEM majors and positive identities in the sciences. This article proposes a set of rights for QTSOCs as STEM learners to guide pedagogy that affirms intersectionality of their experiences in and beyond mathematics classrooms. QTSOCs in STEM have the rights to: (i) feel confused and receive support; (ii) take risks in participation and identity expression; and (iii) have affirming representation of identity in knowledge production. To illustrate how these rights are denied and embraced through STEM pedagogy, I present 2 narrative cases from my research study about QTSOCs’ intersectionality of STEM experiences where mathematics played a central role. I conclude with implications for practice to cultivate rehumanizing STEM educational opportunities that QTSOCs deserve.

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Introduction

STEM education is a site of oppression for historically marginalized populations across intersections of social difference, including race, gender, and sexuality (Leyva, 2024; McGee & Bentley, 2017). Ideologies of STEM disciplines as disconnected from power and identity, rooted in whiteness and cisheteropatriarchy¹, reinforce assumptions of neutrality in scientific epistemologies (i.e., what ‘counts’ as knowledge in science) that allow intersectional injustices to go unchecked (Forester et al., 2024; Joseph et al., 2016). These ideological forces frame institutional and relational features of STEM education as a white, cisheteropatriarchal space (Leyva, McNeill, Balmer, et al., 2022). To illustrate, pedagogical practices of instruction and student support in ‘neutral’ STEM classrooms largely uphold exclusionary norms of behavior and dress aligned with ideals of whiteness and cisheteronormativity. Such norms limit opportunities of classroom participation and peer support among historically marginalized populations, especially those at intersections of underrepresented social identities, where they can authentically express themselves without deficit judgment about their ability and belonging in STEM.

In mathematics, epistemological values of the discipline, such as abstraction (the decontextualizing of otherwise human or social experiences), organize ‘neutral’ gatekeeping pedagogies that fail to account for systemic inequities of educational access and experiences of interpersonal oppression (McNeill & Jefferson, 2024; Yeh & Rubel, 2020). Such pedagogies include curricular structures and classroom instruction that preserve the pervasive role of algebra and calculus in “weeding out” historically marginalized groups from STEM fields (Leyva, McNeill, et al., 2021; Martin, 2019). The social environment of mathematics classrooms, where learning is framed as a ‘neutral,’ leaves minoritized student populations with pressures of assimilating to white, cisheteropatriarchal norms of valued engagement (e. g., assertive justification of independent thought; Langer-Osuna, 2011; Lubienski et al., 2021) as well as tensions about discussing or expressing aspects of their identities (Leyva, 2022a; Waid, 2020).

Dominant constructions of STEM learning environments, including mathematics in P-12 schools and higher education, as ‘neutral’ disallow students’ humanities to be seen or valued as relevant, especially among those from multiply-marginalized groups. However, STEM students across marginalized intersections of social identity deserve access to learning opportunities that nurture their sense of academic competence while affirming expression of their full humanities. Such educational experiences, thus, require pedagogy to rehumanize learning environments in mathematics and STEM more broadly by challenging assumptions of ‘neutrality’ that veil intersectional oppression.

A Call for Theorizing STEM Pedagogy to Advance Queer of Color Justice

Queer and trans* students of color (QTSOCs) are multiply-marginalized individuals who deserve STEM educational opportunities that empower them as knowledge producers and affirm their intersectionality of experiences.² However, the field presently lacks an empirical foundation of research centered on QTSOCs’ realities in STEM from which to theorize features of pedagogy that supports their academic success and sense of belonging. Educational research in mathematics and STEM more broadly (e.g., Kersey & Voigt, 2021; Suárez et al., 2022) has importantly documented the influence of cisheteropatriarchal cultures in learning contexts where queer and trans* students are underestimated for their academic ability and have their queerness deemed irrelevant for engagement with STEM. As a result, queer and trans* students adopt self-protective strategies to navigate deficit judgments for their gender and sexual identities, such as selectively discussing their queerness with trusted peers. Without intersectional analyses in this prior work, the role of race and culture was left implicit, therefore leaving QTSOCs’ experiences of STEM pedagogy undertheorized.

When intersectionality has been central to justice-oriented educational research, it has either not explicitly focused on queer and trans* populations or STEM. Queer and trans* learners are virtually absent in intersectional research about STEM teaching and learning, which has largely centered on lived experiences among cisgender women of color (e.g., McGee & Bentley, 2017; Rodriguez et al., 2023). Research about undergraduate QTSOCs has shed light on how college campus ecosystems shape marginalization and support (e.g., Duran et al., 2022; Garvey et al., 2019). QTSOCs’ intersectionality of experiences of pedagogy in classrooms, including those in STEM with unique disciplinary norms and values, remains as an area for further inquiry.

Intersectional analyses centering QTSOCs’ realities in and outside of classrooms will importantly shed light on how complexities of being queer and of color unfold in the uniquely oppressive context of STEM education, including variation across disciplinary areas (e.g., engineering, mathematics). Such needed research empowers QTSOCs as sources of knowledge for troubling current understandings of ‘good’ pedagogy in STEM, which are beheld to oppressive values in the sciences and based on educational research where queer of color perspectives went unconsidered. Insights from research focused on QTSOCs’ experiences in mathematics and STEM broadly increases educators’ consciousness in developing pedagogy with responsiveness to intersectionality in terms of oppression, agency, and motivations for scientific learning.

In response to the need for intersectional insights on STEM pedagogy for justice among QTSOCs, I designed and conducted a study about the experiences among 60 undergraduate Black, Latin*, and Asian queer and trans* students in STEM majors across 5 US universities (Leyva, 2022a; Leyva, 2022b; Leyva, McNeill, Balmer, et al., 2022). The present article leverages findings from my study to characterize pedagogy for rehumanizing STEM learning opportunities that empower QTSOCs as producers of scientific knowledge and allow intersectionality of their experiences to be seen. I propose a set of rights for QTSOCs as STEM learners to guide pedagogical practices.

Empirical and Conceptual Foundation for Proposed Set of Rights

In the study that provides an empirical foundation for my proposed set of rights, our team synthesized various data sources, including STEM autobiographies, reflective journals, and 3 interviews (2 individual and 1 group). We followed the methodology from critical race theory of counter-storytelling, which involves the construction of analytical narratives that center racially minoritized people’s lived experiences as forms of knowledge for theorizing resistance to racism and other interlocking systems of power (Solórzano & Yosso, 2002). The team generated a counter-story for each QTSOC that accounted for their experiences of oppression, agency, and support in STEM education, including mathematics coursework. A cross-case analysis of the counter-stories uncovered ideological, institutional, and relational forces that upheld and disrupted undergraduate STEM as a white, cisheteropatriarchal space. Given the present TIP special issue’s use of the Rights of the Learner (RoTL) framework in mathematics education (Torres, 2020) as a guiding perspective, I leverage insights from my study about how mathematics across P-12 grades and in college reinforced as well as disrupted intersectional oppression for QTSOCs as STEM majors. These insights are engaged throughout the development of my proposed set of rights in the present article.

Two frameworks – RoTL (Torres, 2020) and Queer of Color Justice in Undergraduate STEM (Leyva, 2024; Leyva, McNeill & Duran, 2022) – provide the conceptual foundation for my proposed set of rights (see Figure 1). Olga Torres developed RoTL as an elementary teacher working with emergent bilingual students to empower them as mathematics learners. RoTL includes rights to: (i) feel confused; (ii) make mistakes; (iii) do and represent only what makes sense; (iv) ask questions, share ideas, and listen to others’ thinking; and (v) feel safe and respected. The framework promotes mathematics learning as a rehumanizing experience (Gutiérrez, 2018; Torres, 2020). The Queer of Color Justice framework guides practices that affirm QTSOCs’ intersectionality of experiences as STEM learners. Queer of color critique (Brockenbrough, 2015), anti-oppressive education (Kumashiro, 2001), and queer critical race theory (Misawa, 2020) are theoretical anchors for the framework.

Figure 1. Mapping Foundational Frameworks onto Rights for QTSOCs in STEM

Coupling the RoTL and Queer of Color Justice frameworks serves 3 important purposes as a foundation to my proposed set of rights. First, RoTL accounts for discipline-specific influences of mathematics in broadening and limiting opportunities for QTSOCs to experience support for their identities through STEM pedagogy. Second, the Queer of Color Justice framework extends RoTL’s focus on instructional aspects of pedagogy by explicitly considering practices of curricular design and student support. Third, with the frameworks spanning P-12 grades and higher education, coupling them provides a lens for pedagogical features across all educational levels that ensure safety in STEM learning responsive to QTSOCs’ intersectional realities.

The Rights of QTSOCs as STEM Learners

This section presents my proposed rights for QTSOCs in STEM. I introduce each right by describing relevant pedagogical practices and learning opportunities that disrupt white cisheteropatriarchy in STEM. In doing so, I account for how each right rehumanizes STEM pedagogy that affirms QTSOCs’ intersectionality of experiences.

I bring awareness of my positionality as a cisgender queer Latino man in US STEM education that provides me with a unique insider perspective on the racialization of queer realities in and beyond STEM. At the same time, I remain conscious of the social distance between my intersectional reality and those of QTSOCs who I work alongside in my research, including trans* and nonbinary students. I mitigate dangers of obscuring QTSOCs’ experiences through my positionality by centering participants’ voices as well as remaining in community with queer and trans* researchers of color through data collection, team discussions of analyses, and feedback on written reports.

The Right to Feel Confused and Receive Support

QTSOCs are deserving of STEM learning environments where they can acknowledge confusion or struggle without negative judgment and can access support. Stereotypes of ability in mathematics and STEM more broadly leave QTSOCs managing tensions that their questions about content and bids for support will signal intellectual deficits tied to their race, gender, and/or sexual identities. Educators must frame confusion and questions as entry points for meaningful learning to resist exclusionary views of struggles as indicators of innate ability. Such framing through instruction and student support must be done while explicitly challenging stereotypes of ability. In doing so, QTSOCs experience relief from tensions about their confusion as confirming racialized, cisheteropatriarchal views of ability and thus can more readily access support to nurture their STEM learning. Such pedagogy rehumanizes STEM education by allowing QTSOCs to embrace confusion as a natural part of learning and not be unfairly subjected to expectations of perfection to protect their marginalized identities.

The Right to Take Risks through Participation and Identity Expression

STEM education must ensure that QTSOCs feel welcome and safe to take risks as learners, both in terms of sharing their ideas and expressing their identities. Educators must challenge dominant views of STEM fields as ‘neutral’ by challenging disciplinary epistemologies that reinforce white cisheteropatriarchy through norms of participation and curricular presentations of content. In turn, QTSOCs will experience STEM learning environments with expansive values of what contributing to scientific thought looks and sounds like, thus making participation less risky and more accessible.

To illustrate, educators must push back on ‘neutral’ epistemological values in mathematics, including abstraction and binary thought (e.g., inverse operations, ordered pairs on Cartesian plane), that organize educational practices experienced as dehumanizing among QTSOCs. Norms of classroom participation must be established to disrupt white, heteronormatively masculine embodiment of ability in mathematics (e.g., communicating ideas in English without an accent or use of ‘slang,’ being assertive in critiques of others’ thinking). Such resistance through instruction relieves QTSOCs from pressures of assimilation to white, cisheteropatriarchal norms for their intellectual contributions to be heard and valued. Cisheteronormativity in mathematics curricula, including real-world contexts for problem solving (e.g., use of exclusively cisgender characters) and metaphors for explaining binary concepts (e.g., heterosexual marriages), must also be challenged to convey relevance as well as affirmation of queer and trans* humanities. Disruption of cisheteronormativity through curricula rehumanizes STEM knowledge production for QTSOCs through an openness to liminality that promotes safety in freely expressing their full identities.

The Right to Have Identity-Affirming Representation in Knowledge Production

QTSOCs have the right to experience STEM education that affirms their identities and motivations to study science. Drawing on Bishop’s (1990) metaphor of “windows, mirrors, and sliding doors” for culturally-relevant literature, QTSOCs must have access to “windows” for better understanding social inequities among queer and trans* people of color (e.g., identity-affirming healthcare access), “mirrors” for seeing their identities and lived experiences reflected, and “sliding doors” for using tools of scientific knowledge production to address injustices affecting them, their families, and queer of color communities. Ensuring “windows, mirrors, and sliding doors” through affirming representation of identity is central to rehumanizing STEM pedagogy (Gutiérrez, 2018). Such pedagogy is essential for QTSOCs navigating isolation in STEM spaces like the classroom, in addition to contending with dominant discourses that their intersectional realities and justice-oriented career pursuits are irrelevant in the ‘neutral’ sciences.

Pedagogical practices of curricular design and student support play a critical role in granting QTSOCs the right to affirming representation of their identities as STEM learners. Curricula should reflect the personhood and scientific contributions from queer and trans* people of color, both past and present, and address the relevance of science in systemic injustices that QTSOCs seek to address. QTSOCs must also see their intersectional identities represented among STEM educators and peers as fellow producers of scientific knowledge. Given the acute underrepresentation of queer and trans* people of color in STEM, support is unlikely to come from educators and peers who share all aspects of QTSOCs’ identities. Therefore, support must be extended that is critically conscious of this social distance and how QTSOCs uniquely experience STEM education as a white, cisheteropatriarchal space. These rehumanizing practices allow for transformative learning wherein QTSOCs experience agency and affirmation.

Two Illustrative Cases of Denying and Embracing QTSOCs’ Rights in STEM

In this section, I present 2 counter-story cases from my research study to depict how STEM pedagogy can deny and embrace QTSOCs’ rights in STEM. One counter-story features Val (he/him) – a kathoey, neurodivergent trans Southeast Asian bisexual person in his third year as a biology major.³ The second counter-story focuses on Sharice (using she/her and exploring they/them) – a Black/African American, gender neutral pansexual person in her second year as a mechanical engineering major. The students attended large, historically white, and research-intensive universities.

Val’s and Sharice’s counter-stories were purposefully selected for multiple reasons to motivate my proposed rights for QTSOCs in STEM. First, lived experiences among trans* and nonbinary students are virtually non-existent in STEM educational research, thus leaving cisheteronormativity and transphobia uninterrogated. Elevating counter-stories from 2 students of color with gender nonconforming identities disrupts the re-centering of cisgender realities in STEM through an intersectional lens. Second, mathematics played a central role across both students’ STEM trajectories in complementary ways. Val reported a memorably negative high school experience from classroom instruction, and Sharice recalled a memorably positive college experience related to student support. Third, participants’ diversity in terms of their social identities and intended majors sheds lights on variation in QTSOCs’ STEM learning experiences.

Val’s Counter-story

Invisibility of Academic Needs as a Southeast Asian Mathematics Learner

In STEM classrooms, Val saw his race as “simultaneously very seen by other people but also very ignored” (Interview 2). Such racialized dynamics are reflected in his most vivid memory of how mathematics shaped his STEM trajectory. Namely, a high school teacher did not take his bids for support seriously when learning new content, “My Algebra 1 and Algebra 2 teacher would always just want me to ‘continue working’ on a problem when I would ask for help because she was ‘confident I could figure it out myself’” (Autobiography). Val interpreted being denied support as signalling his teacher’s racialized assumption that “[he] would ‘know what [he] was doing, maybe because [he] was Asian” (Autobiography). As a Southeast Asian in STEM, Val saw the model minority myth bringing people to look past variation in educational opportunities among Asian people and thus limited his access to academic support like in high school.

It’s almost like a silent type of thing where, yes, I’m Asian, comma, but a majority of Southeast Asian people are still really poor. Most of us don’t make it to college … People see this model minority type of student from Southeast Asian people when they don’t really know there are a lot of accessibility struggles that we face.(Interview 1)

Val’s academic needs as a mathematics learner were rendered invisible in high school due to instruction with racialized assumptions of being a high-achieving Asian student. Such neglect produced a “fear of not being supported [that] has prevented [Val] from wanting to continue doing mathematics in college” (Autobiography). Val being seen yet unsupported, thus, had long-term impacts on STEM coursework to avoid more neglect.

The right to express confusion and receive support as a QTSOC was denied in Val’s high school mathematics experience. Erasure of the Southeast Asian community’s educational inequities through the model minority myth, which seemed to organize support opportunities and instruction, left Val on his own to work through confusion.

Making Space for Neurodivergent Queer of Color Identity in a Biology Lab

Invisibility of Val’s identity was disrupted through instruction in introductory biology courses at the university. Professors affirmed his identity as a trans person of color, which departed from the common experience of being misgendered in STEM, “For both of these classes, I took them with the same professors, who were very open about wanting to use the correct pronouns and names for all students” (Autobiography). He went on to conduct research in one professor’s lab, where he felt seen and supported.

From the get-go, she very much valued getting our pronouns rights, getting our names correct, even the pronunciation … She would remember you even if you didn’t talk very much … That’s definitely one space where I felt really acknowledged … I don’t think I’ve ever heard her misgender me, which is very infrequent … I’ve been very, very grateful for her being my first STEM professor.(Interview 1)

Unlike instruction in high school mathematics that made Val feel unseen as a learner, his biology professor established learning environments in the classroom and lab where being a kathoey trans Southeast Asian student was recognized and affirmed.

In addition to honoring Val’s name and pronouns, the lab was an affirming space where he could openly share his ideas and embody his neurodivergence.

Being neurodivergent is something that really does affect my ability to stay in STEM … Everyone’s opinions are really valued in that space. Even though I’m really new there … I’ll say my input and everyone builds upon it … Whereas in the lab that I worked at previously where I was masking all the time, there was little space for personal expression where I felt like I could just let my guard down, make a joke, or kind of stim, like I will just rock back and forth or fidget with stuff. I feel comfortable doing that in the [current] lab, whereas my previous lab, not so much.(Interview 1)

The culture of openness to self-expression in the biology professor’s lab allowed Val to actively contribute in co-constructing scientific knowledge without being judged for neurodivergent behaviors. Val contrasted this experience with his prior involvement in a different lab, which he described as a majority-white and neurotypical space where social cues were hard to grasp. He was taxed with the labor of masking his neurodivergence, which made participation exhausting and more limited than in his more recent lab space, “I felt really isolated … [and] mentally drained in that scenario … I’ve had to mask a whole lot to communicate … Compared to, I can go to a 3-hour lab meeting with my current PI … and I’ll be fine recovering from that” (Interview 1). The disruption of neurotypical, cisheteropatriarchal norms in the more recent lab environment expanded Val’s access to content and participation as a science learner. With the biology professor readily engaging Val’s ideas and highlighting queer of color contributions, Val saw such visibility of his humanity in instruction as “encourag[ing] and support[ing] QPOC [queer people of color] in STEM spaces” (Reflective Journal).

Pedagogy through instruction and curricular design in the biology professor’s lab embraced Val’s rights as a QTSOC in STEM. His professor’s intentional efforts in getting to know individual students and honoring their identities, including pronouns and correct pronunciation of names, established an affirming STEM learning environment for Val as a kathoey trans neurodivergent Southeast Asian student. Val was able to embrace his right of taking risks through participation and identity expression in the biology lab with a supportive culture. He readily made contributions that were valued as a new lab member, openly engaged in behaviors tied to his neurodivergence, and did not fear the possibility of being misgendered that was common in STEM. The infusion of contributions from queer and trans* people of color in the biology curriculum upheld the right for QTSOCs to have their identities affirmed as STEM knowledge producers. Thus, Val had “mirrors” for his queer of color humanity and possible “sliding doors” to use science in future contributions to the field.

Sharice’s Counter-story

Affirming Queer of Color Existence in a Mathematics Study Group

Reflecting on the role of mathematics as a mechanical engineering major, Sharice was part of an ethnically diverse (e.g., African, Indian, Mexican, Palestinian) and majority queer study group that became an “accepting friend group” (Interview 1). The study group was an exceptional space where Sharice could express her full queer self.

One of the individuals that I spoke to most often, he was the first individual I came out to as being pan. And it was really interesting because I don’t really share that side of myself very often because sometimes people just act weird or they ask too many questions … I didn’t feel the need to be judged or … explain myself.(Interview 1)

Sharice went on to describe how the study group’s strong queer presence made her feel like peers could relate to being a QTSOC, which created a space where she could “be eclectic around them … and not just be told [she’s] weird” (Interview 3). Her most vivid memory of mathematics as a STEM major was a late-night study session where study group members were “goofing off but … were actually doing work” (Interview 1). The queer-affirming space allowed for peer comfort that nurtured her mathematical success.

Sharice’s mathematics study group embraced her 3 rights as a Black gender neutral pansexual person in STEM. The robust social diversity and exchange of lived experiences granted her “windows” and “mirrors” in navigating mathematics and society as a queer person of color. This identity-affirming space allowed Sharice to express her queer identity, which was rare, in addition to embracing her silly and serious sides. As a result, she exercised her right to take risks in embracing her queerness and presenting authentically. The group’s ethos of collaboration and joy provided a support network for Sharice to work through struggle in mathematics.

Isolation and Marginalization as a Lone Queer Black Femme in STEM

Support in Sharice’s study group departed from being marginalized as a Black queer person in STEM. She perceived being misgendered frequently in STEM classes due to a “fixed mindset amongst the teachers and what you’re expected to do and act” (Interview 3), unlike humanities courses with more freedom of self-expression. Sharice saw such inflexibility and disallowance of complexity distinctly present in mathematics, “It’s not like some of my other classes … Physics is more like the manipulation of equations and figuring things out using theories. But with math, it’s just so straightforward” (Interview 1). Thus, the strict cisheteronormative assumptions upheld in mathematics were at odds with her gender neutral identity, which heightened vulnerability of being misgendered.

Sharice’s perspectives convey how epistemological values in STEM organized curricula and instruction that withheld her rights as a Black queer student. Namely, she was refused her rights to exist as her whole self and see her identities embodied in knowledge production. The regimented culture of mathematics with no room for complexity contributed to vulnerability as a gender neutral, pansexual learner. However, the liminal space of the study group, where queer of color presence was normalized and joy in learning mathematics was embraced, disrupted such oppression in STEM.

In addition to managing queer exclusion, Sharice navigated seemingly deficit views of ability as the only Black femme-presenting student in STEM courses. She recalled negative interactions in a different study group for mathematics and physics. In text-based communication, male peers seemed to not take her engagement seriously.

I asked them [male peers], ‘Oh, where can I find this? Where can I find this?’ No one responds. ‘Hey, do you guys want to study sometime?’ No one responds, but then they’ll start messaging each other and then people start responding. You can’t really tell through messages. But I’ve had cases like that in class where I’ve said something and then everyone’s like, ‘No, that not, no, we can’t do that.’ And then, later on, it’s said by one of the males and it’s just like, ‘Oh no, that’s such a great idea!’(Interview 3)

Isolation as the only Black femme-presenting student in STEM classes left Sharice grappling with uncertainties about potentially racialized and gendered interactions. Male peers, who seemed to minimize the urgency of Sharice’s confusion, left her on her own to work through struggles on top of managing microaggressions of ability. Thus, she was denied rights for QTSOCs to express confusion and receive help in STEM, in addition to not seeing her Black queer femme identity represented in STEM classrooms.

Navigating STEM spaces where Sharice’s identities were underrepresented was so common that she did not “really take note of it ‘cause … [she’s] just so used to it” (Interview 3). She was only mindful about being the sole Black femme person when brought to her attention. Normalization of Sharice’s isolation was even at play in her supportive mathematics study group. She recalled being conscious about her Blackness only when a close friend Eric (an Indian gay student) noted their racial differences.

He said something that was weird. He was talking about my hair and he said, ‘you people,’ when referring to Black people. And I was like, ‘[Eric], you’re Brown too, though.’ He’s like, ‘Yeah, but you’re Black to me.’ I never really noticed or thought about the difference or really identified that there’s a difference, like Black and Brown people … Most of the time I don’t really think of myself as the only girl or the only Black person in the group, but it does seem like oftentimes I am.(Interview 3)

Sharice’s numbness to her Black femme presence in STEM was so deeply normalized that she was not conscious of it, even in a space of robust support for her intersectional identity as a mathematics learner. Not consciously attending to racial differences among Black and Brown study group members suggests a sense of cross-ethnic solidarity in a queer space of STEM peer support. Such solidarity is noteworthy due to tensions of being queer in communities of color where culture often shapes cisheteronormative values for survival – e.g., respectability politics in the Black community (Higginbotham 1993), machismo and marianismo gender roles in Latin* culture (Niemann, 2004).

As highlighted earlier, the study group honored Sharice’s right as a STEM learner to having “windows” and “mirrors” for her queer of color existence by working on mathematics alongside racially-diverse, queer classmates. This space disrupted the exclusion that Sharice faced as a lone Black queer femme person in STEM whose ideas and bids for help were undermined. Beyond providing queer of color representation, support in the study group for members across different intersectional marginalities in STEM seemed to disallow divisiveness tied to race as well as culturally-mediated forms of homophobia and transphobia linked to traditional values in communities of color.

Implications for Practice

I raise 3 implications for STEM pedagogical practice. The first implication is specific to mathematics given how Val’s and Sharice’s counter-stories depict the role of mathematics as a positive or negative turning point in QTSOCs’ trajectories as STEM majors. While Val’s academic neglect as a Southeast Asian kathoey trans student in high school informed his avoidance of mathematics coursework as a biology major, Sharice’s study group in entry-level mathematics provided her with a support network that nurtured her Black queer identity and academic success as an engineering major. I include a note about attending to variation across disciplinary cultures in STEM when developing pedagogical practices that affirm QTSOCs’ intersectional identities. My other 2 implications cut across STEM fields. In presenting the 3 practice implications, I capture how they rehumanize pedagogy to embrace the rights of QTSOCs in STEM.

Troubling Mathematical Epistemologies of Abstraction and Binary Thought

The first implication is the design of learning opportunities in mathematics classrooms that problematize dominant epistemological values of abstraction and binary thought. Pedagogy that recognizes social aspects of learning mathematics challenges dominant views of the discipline as abstract or objective, which convey messages to QTSOCs that their lived realities are irrelevant. Such practices include having curricula that interrogate histories of colonization in knowledge production and building a classroom community that destabilizes double standards of who can embrace valued forms of engagement coded in white cisheteropatriarchy (e.g., queer women of color not being policed as “too masculine” or “too assertive” for arguing their ideas). Pedagogy that builds students’ critical consciousness of how mathematics is varyingly experienced by learners across intersectional identities expands opportunities for QTSOCs to be seen more fully and removes sociopsychological burdens on top of learning content. Such practices, for instance, could have relieved Sharice from the burden of proving her mathematical competence to male peers in order for her contributions to be taken seriously and not received as threatening the racialized, cisheteropatriarchal hierarchy of ability. Curricula and instruction that frame mathematics as an inherently social endeavor, therefore, embraces QTSOCs’ rights as STEM learners to express their mathematical ideas and embody their full identities without fearing negative judgment.

In addition, pedagogical troubling of binary thought in mathematics enables QTSOCs to experience the discipline as resonant with the liminality and complexities of their intersectional experiences. Mathematics instruction that traces and critiques how the binary organization of knowledge came to be (e.g., number systems, statements with true or false values) pushes back against constrictive logics analogous to those that QTSOCs navigate in negotiating their queer humanities in a cisheteronormative society. This pedagogical practice promotes QTSOCs’ right as STEM learners to experience mathematical knowledge as “windows” and “mirrors” that affirm their queer gender and sexual identities. QTSOCs, in turn, are inclined to see themselves as part of an academic community where expression of their queerness is safe and relevant as learners – another right to which they are entitled. Such rehumanizing pedagogy serves to disrupt the wariness that Val and Sharice felt about being misgendered in STEM contexts.

Mathematics instruction that embraces creativity in problem solving and multiplicity of reasoning challenges binary logics of being either right or wrong and being innately good or bad at the subject, thereby upholding expansive views of ability and success. It is critical for such practices to be coupled with educators interrogating their internalized biases (e.g., stereotypes of Black and Latin* students as less capable than white and Asian peers), calling upon their students to do the same, and explicitly recognizing that their expansive framing of ability seeks to dismantle the white cisheteropatriarchal gaze of success in mathematics. Such pedagogy that resists binary and stereotypical constructions of ability would have allowed Val’s and Sharice’s mathematical struggles to be recognized as entry points for learning rather than being undermined or subjected to deficit judgment. As a result, QTSOCs’ rights as STEM learners to take risks in asking questions and being confused are embraced.

A Note about Variation in STEM Disciplinary Cultures

Before presenting implications for practice across STEM fields in the next 2 sections, I end this section specific to mathematics by recognizing variation in cultures and epistemological values across scientific disciplines. Pedagogy embracing QTSOCs’ rights as learners, thus, must be responsive to such differences. In what follows, I use biology and mechanical engineering (Val’s and Sharice’s majors, respectively) to illustrate how disciplinary variation shapes rehumanizing pedagogy for QTSOCs.

Like in mathematics, pedagogy in biology must challenge cisheteronormative binaries in knowledge production (e.g., dichotomous understandings of sex and gender, erasure of same-sex animal mating) to ensure QTSOCs’ right to identity-affirming representation in curricula (Gunckel, 2019; Rende Mendoza & Johnson, 2024). Engineering pedagogy that affirms QTSOCs’ humanities involves disrupting the discipline-specific valorizing of technical skills (e.g., tinkering with machines) over social competencies (e.g., communication, awareness of injustices). With queerness deemed a social issue disassociated with engineering ability (Cech & Waidzunas, 2011) and racialized-gendered educational inequities of developing technical prowess, expansive conceptions in pedagogy of what and who ‘counts’ in engineering allow QTSOCs to exercise their rights as STEM learners. Namely, QTSOCs can take risks of self-expression without fear of jeopardizing their perceived ability, in addition to having access to curricular resources that nurture justice-oriented engineering pursuits relevant to their identities (e.g., designing tools to address disproportionate impacts of climate change on queer and trans* people of color; Leyva, McNeill, Balmer, et al., 2022).

Pedagogy that destabilizes oppressive workings of the technical-social dualism is critical in engineering subfields like mechanical engineering (Sharice’s major). The valorizing of technical skills is more acute in this subfield and thus educational contexts are often more exclusionary compared to areas like biomedical and civil engineering, where social issues and competencies are more readily engaged (Faulkner, 2000). Looking across STEM areas broadly, particular attention to pedagogical reform for disrupting white cisheteropatriarchy is needed in mathematics and other disciplines grounded in mathematical principles (e.g., engineering, physics). As depicted in Val’s and Sharice’s counter-stories, epistemological values of abstraction and binary thought uniquely uphold dominant views of mathematics as ‘neutral’ and inflexible that render social issues irrelevant as well as frame knowledge production in exclusionary ways. These values shape exclusion across learning contexts in varied ways when colliding with content and practices specific to mathematics-intensive STEM disciplines like engineering as described above and physics (Leyva, 2022b; Robertson & Hairston, 2019). QTSOCs come to experience limited opportunities for rehumanizing pedagogy more acutely in these STEM areas compared to less mathematics-intensive disciplines (e.g., biology, environmental science). It is noteworthy how pedagogy in the biology lab disrupted invisibility of Val’s needs and identity that he endured in mathematics. Thus, educators’ awareness of how disciplines uniquely reinforce white cisheteropatriarchy must orient content-specific ways of embracing QTSOCs’ rights as STEM learners.

Getting to Know QTSOCs’ Full Identities as STEM Learners

Another implication for STEM pedagogy is educators getting to know students at an individual level, so QTSOCs can feel seen in their identities across learning contexts traditionally disassociated with social realities. Val’s and Sharice’s counter-stories show how they readily contributed to discourse and freely expressed themselves in STEM spaces where they were recognized and supported as QTSOCs, including their gender nonconforming identities. Such comfort, for instance, was reflected in Val’s biology lab experience with a professor who demonstrated respect for students as whole people and not just as STEM learners. In honoring Val’s pronouns and name, the professor cultivated a lab environment where Val felt supported as a QTSOC and could embrace aspects of his identity as a STEM learner, including his neurodivergence.

Using trans* and nonbinary students’ pronouns and chosen names prevents them from being misgendered or deadnamed (using a name given at birth and no longer used with their gender identity), which presents burdens on top of learning content. In addition, being intentional in correctly pronouncing QTSOCs’ names from different countries of origin and not confusing students with common identities signal care and consciousness. When STEM educators use incorrect pronouns, deadname trans* students, and mispronounce students’ names, it is important to apologize, assert the need to do better, and engage in critical self-reflection to interrogate areas of privilege that led to these missteps and other oppressive aspects of their pedagogy.

STEM educators can leverage different course structures as opportunities to learn about QTSOCs’ identities and backgrounds. For example, a short survey can be administered at the start of a new course that can be answered anonymously, asking students to share details about themselves that can guide creation of a STEM learning environment affirming of their identities and promoting their success. Students can be invited to attend a short meeting where educators can learn about them as whole individuals, including their histories as STEM learners, and for students to learn more about their STEM educators as well. This meeting, which can be used as part of the course’s classroom participation requirement, may take place during the first few weeks of a course before or after school for P-12 grades and during office hours for higher education. Students should be informed that in addition to building relationships with their instructors, these meetings provide space to receive support about content-related aspects of the course. Educators sharing details from their personal and professional backgrounds, including experiences of failure and struggle, models the normalizing of vulnerability that can help to alleviate high-pressure expectations of academic success in STEM for QTSOCs. In doing so, STEM educators must recognize how they hold areas of privilege and oppression that bring them to experience challenges in and out of STEM similarly and differently from their students across intersectional identities. For QTSOCs, this critically-conscious practice of making space for vulnerability in STEM embraces their right to be confused and facilitates comfort with seeking support.

Analogous to the development of counter-stories in my research study, educators can use survey responses and student meetings to learn from QTSOCs’ narratives of intersectionality in and beyond STEM contexts. Such pedagogy disrupts common ways that power is unequally distributed in STEM classrooms by way of educators learning from QTSOCs as much as QTSOCs learn from their educators. At the same time, it is important for STEM educators to assume personal responsibility of learning on their own about intersectionality of experiences among queer and trans* people of color to avoid taxing QTSOCs with the labor of educating others about systemic oppression. Insights from STEM educators engaging with students’ narratives of experience, in addition to their personal learning about matters of intersectionality, can guide pedagogical practices that counteract oppressive influences in QTSOCs’ STEM histories as well as nurtures scientific curiosities relevant to their identities. These practices, moreover, convey to QTSOCs in STEM that their educators care about who they are to cultivate learning opportunities that are relevant and supportive. This form of rehumanizing pedagogy in STEM by getting to know and honoring students’ identities increases QTSOCs’ feelings of safety and respect, thus making participation and presence in STEM learning environments less vulnerable. QTSOCs, as a result, are granted their rights to take risks in sharing their ideas and expressing their identities.

Building Equitable Access to Content and Participation in Peer Collaboration

The final implication for STEM pedagogy is establishing collaborative learning opportunities (e.g., groupwork, whole-class discussions) that ensure QTSOCs’ access to content and participation. Both counter-stories capture the importance of communal knowledge production across STEM environments, including classrooms, labs, and study groups. These opportunities align with the value of collectivism among communities of color, including queer and trans* people of color, and resist dominance of individualism in STEM anchored in logics of whiteness and cisheteropatriarchy. It is crucial for STEM educators to co-construct norms of peer collaboration with students that explicitly challenge stereotypes of ability, honor names and pronouns, resist racialized-gendered and neurotypical behavioral expectations, and make space for joy.

Norms of peer collaboration alleviate QTSOCs from the labor of understanding course content on top of managing identity-based marginalization from the interplay between culture, race gender, sexuality, and ability. For instance, these norms can counter culturally-mediated homophobia and transphobia from peers of color that limit QTSOCs’ comfort when working in racially-diverse groups. QTSOCs may be wary of how their queerness through gender expression or discussion of their transness and/or sexuality will be received in initial interactions with peers of color who may have internalized cisheteronormative views linked to culture, such as gendered dualisms of soft/scholarly and hard/tough masculinities in East Asian groups (Louie & Low, 2005) and gender roles of marianismo for the ‘ideal woman’ in the Latin* community. These within-group peer tensions may be distinctly layered for neurodivergent QTSOCs like Val due to stigmatization of disability across communities of color (Annamma et al., 2013). Vulnerability may also surface for QTSOCs in contexts of peer collaboration where there is a strong queer presence, but they are the only or one of the few students of color. Such spaces, without established norms of identity-affirming collaboration, can leave QTSOCs concerned about managing racialized and gendered peer interactions due to stereotypes of ability (e.g., Black women’s contributions being marginalized, Asian men pressured to understand the content and help others). When educators work with students to co-develop norms for identity-affirming peer collaboration, it is important to explicitly name these intersectional realities of oppression and discuss how the norms facilitate STEM learning opportunities that ensure safety for historically marginalized groups. In this way, QTSOCs’ right of taking risks in identity expression is embraced.

With students bringing prior experiences of STEM curricula that have socialized them into disassociating content from issues of identity and systemic inequities, the establishment of norms for peer collaboration that rehumanize QTSOCs as learners becomes especially critical in mathematics and science classrooms. Talking through the rationale for co-developing norms is an important disruption of traditional pedagogy that upholds STEM as ‘neutral’ by way of elevating students’ critical consciousness about issues of intersectionality, including how their interactions in peer collaboration contribute to resisting oppression and expanding agency for multiply-marginalized populations. QTSOCs, as a result, face less uncertainty about navigating insensitivity from peer collaborators that stems from limited opportunities for exploring the relevance of social matters in prior STEM learning contexts. Identity-affirming norms of engagement provide an interactional space of STEM learning for QTSOCs where their intersectional realities are actively recognized, so the social context of peer collaboration expands opportunities for them to build community where they can participate fully in disciplinary processes of scientific inquiry. Such identity-conscious collaborative learning can facilitate the formation of peer support networks, much like the mathematics study group that provided Sharice with a community that embraced her Black queer identity while learning content.

Identity-affirming collaboration in STEM learning allows QTSOCs to ask questions and acknowledge struggles engaged as entry points for collective knowledge-building. QTSOCs, thus, can exercise their right to express confusion and be supported. The embracing of collective engagement, coupled with valuing QTSOCs’ contributions, disrupts dominant views of whose knowledge and practices matter in STEM education as a white, cisheteropatriarchal space. Collaborative learning, where QTSOCs are seen for their full selves and heard for their STEM thinking, ensures the right for their humanities to be represented and centered in scientific knowledge production.

Research that provided an empirical basis for this work was funded by the National Academy of Education/Spencer Foundation Postdoctoral Fellowship Program and the Vanderbilt University-Peabody College Small Research Grant Program. Thank you to Megumi Asada for their feedback on an early draft of this article manuscript.

Additional Resources for Classroom Use

(“The Rights of Queer and Trans* Students of Color as STEM Learners”)

McCready, L. T. (2019). Queeruptions, queer of color analysis, radical action and education reform: An introduction. Equity & Excellence in Education, 52, 370-372.

This article is the introduction for an issue of the Equity & Excellence in Education journal highlighting queeruptions (activist spaces by queer and trans* people of color) that raise pedagogical implications for advancing queer of color thriving in formal educational spaces. These queeruptions are grounded in queer of color epistemologies and situated in various contexts, including Black queer youth’s production of a ‘zine as a coalition-building tool and a community workshop on parental advocacy for Latin* queer youth. Aligned with the present TIP article that highlights voices from queer and trans* students of color (QTSOCs) in higher education, one article in the Equity & Excellence in Education issue written by queer of color student affairs professionals Vijay Kanagala and Steven Oliver characterizes support practices for QTSOCs based on their campus leadership roles.

Suárez, M. I., & Mangin, M. (2022). Trans studies in K-12 education: Creating an agenda for research and practice. Harvard Education Press.

This edited volume brings together a collection of interdisciplinary perspectives that center trans epistemologies for interrogating K-12 schools as institutional sites for violence among gender-nonconforming educators and learners. Chapter contributions in the volume collectively engage in a liberatory re-imagining of K-12 education for trans and nonbinary people with considerations for intersectionality. One chapter, titled “Transgender in School,” presents vignettes from a trans science classroom teacher and highlights resources for developing gender-affirming pedagogical practices in STEM.

3. Cooper, K. M., Auerbach, A. J. J., Bader, J. D., Beadles-Bohling, A. S., Brashears, J. A., Cline, E., … & Brownell, S. E. (2020). Fourteen recommendations to create a more inclusive environment for LGBTQ+ individuals in academic biology. CBE—Life Sciences Education, 19, es6.

This article presents 14 recommendations for practices to advance inclusion among LGBTQ+ individuals across various biology learning spaces, including classrooms, conferences, and research. One set of recommendations addresses pedagogical practices that disrupt cisheteropatriarchal norms of knowledge production in biology, such as presenting LGBTQ+ role models in the field as well as addressing the full range of gender and sexuality through instruction. Coupling this article in biology education with the present TIP article’s focus on mathematics experiences among QTSOCs supports readers in considering how different STEM disciplinary contexts influence the nature of queer-affirming practices through curricular design, classroom instruction, and student support.

Additional information

Funding

The work was supported by the National Academy of Education/Spencer Foundation Postdoctoral Fellowship Program Vanderbilt University - Peabody College Small Research Grant Program .

Notes

1 Cisheteropatriarchy is a system of oppression at the juncture of cisheterosexism and patriarchy that marginalizes cisgender women (people assigned female at birth who identify as women) and queer people. Cisheterosexism is a system of oppression that upholds cisheteronormativity, or normativity of heterosexuality and cisgender identities.

2 Queer describes all marginalized sexual and gender nonconforming identities. Trans* describes people whose gender identities differ from assigned sex at birth, including those who do and do not pursue medical gender-affirming treatment as well as those who identify with binary and nonbinary genders. I use the acronym QTSOCs for queer and trans* students of color, inclusive of all nonwhite racial identities. Intersectionality refers to forms of oppression and agency at the juncture of racism and other systems of social power (Crenshaw, 1991).

3 Kathoey is commonly used to describe identities for trans* people, intersex people, and gay men in Southeast Asian countries. Val self-identifies as kathoey and trans because he perceives western terms like queer as not resonating with his lived experience. Neurodivergence refers to cognitive development or functioning that departs from normative or “typical” forms, including but not limited to attention deficit/hyperactive disorder (ADHD), autism, bipolar disorder, dyslexia, and Tourette’s Syndrome. Neurotypical refers to normative forms of cognitive development or functioning and used to describe people, educational practices, etc.