How design educators can build inclusive classroom cultures

As educators, we are world builders. 

In Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom, bell hooks aptly stated: “The classroom remains the most radical space of possibility in the academy… Urging all of us to open our minds and hearts so that we can know beyond the boundaries of what is acceptable, so that we can think and rethink, so that we can create new visions…”

We have the unique ability to shape the world inside our classrooms, with the goal of creating a learning environment so connective, inviting and fueled by curiosity that students want to show up, want to engage, want to create. 

We asked RGD Members who are design educators to share how they cultivate inclusive classroom culture in their own unique styles.

Andrew Boardman RGD, Creative director at Mangrove Web

After the pandemic started to lift, and we were meeting in person, I ensured that there was a group-based activity with nearly every single project. Providing individualized design projects is a necessity, but students needed (and need) to know that their ideas could be transformed when they have a chance to interact with one another. Despite my best efforts in bringing students together over Zoom, group projects were met with feelings of insecurity and meagre collaboration. Once we were back in the classroom, I tried to rally students. For a design ethics course segment, we reviewed various public statements by designers and design collectives. We examined the numerous First Things First manifestos (1964, 2000, 2020), the RGD / DesCan / SDGQ Code of Ethics and AIGA’s Standards of Professional Practice. I also used the Designer’s Hippocratic Oath exercise, developed by Ciara Taylor and Samantha Dempsey. 

Over the course of a few weeks, we collectively created our own classroom code of ethics, editing and finalizing a document that everyone signed, together, in real life. Students negotiated in small groups what behaviours, values and actions would — and would not — be committed to in our class. They then came together as a larger group to design and refine the code. I believe this had a number of knock-on effects, including stronger design collaborations, breaking down barriers between students and giving them permission to grapple with issues that are too often foisted on students by their instructors.

Elyssa Schmid RGD, Instructor at Capilano University IDEA School of Design

I am acutely aware of the mix of apprehension, excitement and even fear that fills a classroom on the first day and, as someone who has been very shy at different points in my life, I notice the students who sit quietly at the back and easily empathize with them. That’s why cultivating a space rooted in empathy, respect and safe inquiry is always my starting point as an instructor. 

Several years ago, I developed an assignment for second-year students to design “A Space of Belonging”. As a warm-up, students drew a personal “map of belonging,” an idea inspired by bell hooks. These maps visualized how deeply students' communities supported their growth, balance and sense of purpose—both in and outside of school. The final projects that followed were extraordinary—students devised a myriad of ways to create physical spaces that fostered a sense of belonging and equanimity for their audience. The creative methods they used varied widely, but at the heart of every project was the same motivation—to empathize with their chosen audience, by learning about them through research and making design choices that honoured their needs. And, isn’t that, in essence, our work as designers, after all? To me, the classroom itself is a laboratory of belonging. 

I believe every student simply needs the right moment or opportunity to feel they can “show up”—whether that’s contributing to a discussion, taking a creative risk or discovering confidence through teamwork. And that spark might come from a single project, an in-class activity or an assigned reading. That’s why populating course content with case studies from a diverse range of designers and readings from contrasting perspectives in design are also effective ways to ensure every student can see themselves reflected in the room. Design school is dynamic, constantly shifting and full of possibilities. For students to take advantage of these opportunities, the classroom must feel like a safe place—a place where exploration, risk-taking and participation are possible and encouraged.

Diana Varma RGD, Podcaster and Design Educator at Toronto Metropolitan University

I strive—however imperfectly—to flatten hierarchies and disrupt the colonial systems of power that continue to influence many traditional classrooms. I see my teaching role as that of a facilitator and as a guide, walking alongside students and learning with them. On the first day of class, I emphasize that we all bring unique lived experiences, skills, passions, education and different ways of knowing into the space that can fit together like a puzzle if we allow it. My position in the room is no higher or lower, better or worse than anyone else. I often arrange the classroom space in a circle or horseshoe to reflect this truth within the built environment. I share my mistakes and failures, alongside stories of experience and success. I’m very vocal that most creative problems don’t have one solution, but many ways to successfully innovate. I employ alternative grading systems (specially, specifications grading) to provide a flexible, transparent, objective roadmap of standards-based metrics—paired with lots of choice within assessments—so students can chart their own path and see their own growth within the guardrails of the course design. All of this doesn’t always work the way I hope it will, but students see my intentions. In fact, it’s sometimes better when things don’t go to plan; it’s a failure to share with students the next time around. ;)