Jenny Jorgensen

I&D Committee: My first experience with what we now call Inclusion and Diversity wasn’t framed in a positive light. Back in high school, I was placed in programs that were meant to help “poor minorities destined to fail.” That was the label. These programs made me feel singled out. I hated being marked as “different.” I hated being asked, “So what are you?” as though I was something other than human. Even the required matching t-shirts we had to wear made me feel branded and set apart from everyone else. The turning point for me came from my friend Danni, who was Black. One day, after I complained about how the t-shirt made me feel, she said, “Jenny, at least at the end of the day you get to take the shirt off.” That was the moment I realized my perspective was limited. While I struggled with labels, others carried visible differences every single day. Over time, I also came to recognize something unique about myself: my name, my background, and my appearance made me ethnically ambiguous. People rarely knew my ethnicity, and often just assumed I was like them, no matter what ethnicity they happened to be. What once made me uncomfortable—cringing when asked “what are you?”—I now see as a gift. It allows people to feel comfortable with me, to let their guard down, and to share their genuine, authentic selves. It’s become my superpower. What I love about I&D today is that it has evolved. It’s no longer about labeling people or forcing them into boxes. It’s not about making everyone wear the same t-shirt. True inclusion is about creating an environment where every single person feels accepted for who they are—where we can celebrate what we have in common while also embracing what makes us unique. It’s about authenticity, opportunity, and respect. That is why I&D matters to me. Because I know what it feels like to be labeled and to feel less—and I also know the power of being seen and accepted for who you truly are.