In this post-presidential election reality, many of us are feeling uncertain about our jobs—especially DEI folks who have been seeing the writing on the wall for quiteShawntal Z. Brown
In the span of a six-minute Zoom call, I was suddenly jobless and unable to process the many emotions swirling through my mind. Just like that, the entire Division of Diversity and Campus Engagement at The University of Texas at Austin was eliminated—and many other DEI employees in units across the university were given their pink slips due to Senate Bill 17, which came into effect last January.
As I write this, I hope that many of my fellow DEI champions can retain their jobs and continue making a positive impact. However, if they become part of the growing trend in higher education and corporate America, I would like to share a bit about my journey through the grieving process and some wisdom I gained along the way.
As a first-generation Black college graduate from a low-income family, I reaped the benefits of mentorship from faculty and staff who come from similar backgrounds. Their guidance helped me discover my true calling in higher education, ultimately leading me to secure my dream job at UT. where I had the privilege to pay it forward with my students and advance equity and social justice through my research. It was incredible to see my students transforming into leaders, yet it all came to an abrupt and devastating stop when Texas Senate Bill 17 shut us down. Not only did I lose my job, but the students also lost their havens in spaces like the Multicultural Engagement Center and the Gender and Sexuality Center. Now, minoritized students—first-generation, LGBTQIA+, racial minorities, and other marginalized communities—are left to navigate hostile, unwelcoming campus climates without the crucial offices and resources. This work is deeply personal to me, and the idea of not being able to support these students during this transition only deepens my grief.
Amidst this changing sociopolitical climate, I know I'm not alone in wondering whether I should even continue working in higher education. What was once my passion and purpose in life has since become a big question mark. I soon found myself in a career identity crisis, and the job search process only made things worse. I've faced rejections before, but this time, the emails stung more deeply, making the sense of loss more profound. In the past, I could bounce back, learn, and adapt. But now, every rejection felt raw, amplifying my grief. It’s hard to be resilient while in pain. Amid this period of mourning, I desperately wanted to find a new role quickly to escape the uncomfortable feeling of loss. I believed the next job might fill the gap. However, the constant rejections and application fatigue forced me to question my purpose, compelling me to reconsider my "why."
There are plenty of “how-to” books and articles about picking yourself up after a job loss, but we rarely discuss the pain of losing our workspace and the daily routines we once shared with colleagues. It hurts to no longer see my colleagues and students—my community—every day when I come to work. It was difficult to see former colleagues with tears in their eyes as we cleared out our offices and closed this chapter in our lives so abruptly. The physical space felt like a ghost town, a painful reminder of the community torn apart. Reliving these moments of the past leaves me unsettled as to the harm that I experienced at the hands of the institution.
The job search in higher education is notoriously slow. Sometimes it can take weeks to hear back—or you could be ghosted entirely. These issues are all too common among job seekers, yet for laid-off DEI employees who were deemed "redundant," this experience can be especially dehumanizing, making us question our worth. What I learned from all the idle waiting is this: slow down and take care of yourself. Take this time to rekindle friendships, connect with friends and family, enjoy hobbies, and practice yoga or meditation. By doing so, I feel more prepared and energized for future work.
Layoffs are deeply emotional, yet often under-discussed. We must acknowledge how all the labor and passion that we pour into our work can be taken for granted by presidents and CEOs. While resources focus on “next steps” for job seekers, few address the emotional labor required to rebuild from such an experience. This pain and upheaval should be recognized, not only for those laid off but for everyone affected by the instability it creates.
To all my wonderful DEI leaders, supporters, allies and advocates: do not give up on your passions, even during this dark time. Continue to pursue the work that brings you joy, and if you must compromise temporarily, remember that your job does not define your identity. My hope is that the pendulum will swing back, and leaders in the American workforce will recognize the importance of supporting the diverse communities that make our college campuses, workplaces, and our nation stronger and more compassionate.
Shawntal Brown is currently a doctoral student in the College of Education at The University of Texas at Austin.