To look at how I differ from my students, the first task is to label my identity. I am a white man, and I am older than most of my students. I am cisgender, yet do not regularly discuss my sexual orientation, but pass as a hetero-allosexual. I believe I am neurotypical. I require corrective assistance with my eyes. I am older than my students, already with a degree in English, and I have never taken this class that they are taking. I am a liberal, a dancer, and a writer. The last three are the only identities I feel like I have control over—that and my decision not to discuss my orientation. I could work to change those four things, or decide that I will do an about face and no longer include them in my identity.

From this position of relative privilege, this means I must work hard to understand the position that any of my students are in who do not share my background. This means, as Alexander and Rhodes said nearing the end of their article, that I should be open to criticism for when I make mistakes—and I will make mistakes. The challenge of serving people from a multitude of diverse identities is extremely difficult. The main benefit from my position of privilege, is that people are trained from birth in our country to respect people who look like me. I’ve already had experiences in classrooms where the usual instructor describes their class as terrible, yet run into surprisingly little pushback from the students when I substitute. The most obvious difference between me and the other instructors are our gender expression. I think the giving of unearned respect only perpetuates the negative patriarchal view that masculine people deserve respect while feminine people earn respect.

I do my best to observe my privilege as often as I can. I hope that by doing so, I can cultivate an environment of respect and safety for everyone in my classroom.