Q&A with Associate Professor Lucy Arellano
Lucy Arellano is an associate professor in the Department of Education, associate dean, and faculty equity advisor at the Gevirtz School. Inspired by her own college experience, Arellano is helping Latinx students navigate and thrive in higher education. She is part of a $10 million, five-year project called ALRISE (Accelerate Latinx Representation In STEM Education). The NSF-funded grant aimed to increase Latinx student retention and completion in pursuing STEM degrees at two- and four-year Hispanic-Serving Institutions (HSIs) and emerging HSIs.
Tell us a little about yourself.
I’m a first generation college student and first-gen U.S. citizen. My parents came from Mexico in the mid 70s. Both of them were factory workers in the downtown Los Angeles garment district making something like two cents per shirt. My trajectory to college was literally just something I had to figure out. I did not have any friends or family that had gone to college to guide me as role models. I ended up going to college because I was part of a middle-school summer pre-college outreach program (Jaime Escalante Math and Science Program) out of East L.A. College. By the time I was in high school I was with all the gifted, magnet, and honors kids. That gave me exposure to college because I heard my peers talking about it.
How did your college experience shape your research?
My assumption was that all the good schools were what I saw on TV. If they have a good sports team, that’s a good college. So, I applied everywhere across the country. In the end, my choice was between USC or the University of Michigan, and they both offered me the same amount of loans in the financial aid package. I wanted to move away from home to be independent, so I decided to go to the University of Michigan, 2,500 miles away! I had never really traveled except to Mexico to visit family. I didn’t have the lived experience of what it was to be in an environment where I was “othered.” In East L.A. everyone looked like me, they talked like me. At college check-in, I experienced my first microaggression. The person asked me my last name and was annoyed that they couldn’t understand me and find it on the list. Then the student behind me gave his name, ‘John Smith,’ and he’s greeted with “Oh, that’s such an American name.” All while I’m still standing there with my mom right next to me. That’s where I first learned how racism felt. As a 17-year-old, moving through higher-ed, I kept trying to understand what happened in that environment. Why was I treated that way? Why are there so many Latinx students that don’t finish? So that became my research question for my dissertation. How can I find answers so that other students don’t have to figure it out for themselves? How can I generate knowledge that they can then tap into?
You returned to the University of Michigan for graduate school. Did you feel more accepted and less “othered” the second time?
Because it was four years later, I think I knew what to expect and I knew what support systems I needed. It was a whole new way to traverse the same geographical location but different because I was a grad student. That didn’t mean it was easier to navigate. So I tapped into more professional spaces and where the Latinx staff and faculty congregated. It was a different way of navigating.
What was grad school like during that period?
At the time, anything related to higher education theories were created and normed on white males. Scholars would use models generated on this population and apply them to Black students, Latinx students, Asian students… all students. At the time, that’s all there was. But now, twentysome years later, we’re in a place where there’s enough knowledge generated in the field to begin to question those theories. Now, we can begin to develop new theories that are normed on the populations that we study. I would love to keep pushing forward and thinking about ways of how to create frameworks and theories that are based on the Latinx community.
What changes would you like to see in terms of Latinx students navigating institutions that are very different from where they came from?
As Latinxs, we know that we’re attending schools that were never created or intended for us. Even at HSIs, which is another arm of my research, HSIs are enrollment-based, they’re not mission-based. At HBCUs (Historically Black Colleges and Universities) and tribal colleges, it’s their mission, and they were founded on serving that specific community. Whereas HSIs become HSIs because they have a 25 percent enrollment of Latinx students, which means nothing in terms of how it actually functions. Most HSIs are still predominantly white institutions. The current framework is ‘how do we fix the student, and how do we empower them to navigate the institutions?’ I would flip it and ask, ‘how do we transform the institutions who made a commitment to those students by admitting them.’ It’s (the institution’s) job to make sure they graduate and provide them requisite resources. In my mind, change the institutional practices, change the culture and policies, and consider how all of these things can better serve rather than be a barrier.
With all of the federal funding cuts, how are you continuing to do your research and what gives you hope?
For me, it’s how do I continue serving this group of students when there’s quite literally no other way. HSI funding is in jeopardy. There’s no NSF funding directed towards underrepresented students in STEM. It’s the most underserved populations that needed it the most, and that’s exactly what was obliterated. It’s a hard time to be doing this kind of work, but the need is still there. So that’s what keeps me going.