She set the pen in her hand down. “This might shock you, but only if you aren’t paying attention. I’m literally always worried about Deja and Marie, and Cristina in Biology, Annette in English, Sun in American Studies, and damn near every other woman of color in the College. Hell, there are some women in the Education and Business colleges I’m worried about as well because, as you know, the university keeps hiring these women of color and then throwing them to the wolves.

They do more service in and out of their departments, on and off-campus. They teach bigger service classes and get some of the worst student evals. They publish far less, and if they don’t leave before they go up for tenure — and many, many, many of them do leave and are trying to leave right now — they’re denied tenure and have to leave anyway. And the ones that make it through the tenure process are a mess.

They’re anxious and have a bunch of health issues they didn’t have when they came here, or their previous conditions are worse. They’re burnt out. And still, they do more service for little, if any, recognition or support from their departments, the college, or men of color. And on top of all that, they make much less than their male colleagues. Far less. Does that sound like anyone we know?”

“I know this, Toni,” Alejandro said.

“I know you know this, and you’re one of my favorite men on this entire campus. That’s the only reason I’m going to tell you where to find Deja.”

“You know where she is?”

Toni rolled her eyes. “Of course, I know where she is. Deja and Marie are creatures of habit. It’s easier to keep track of them and know how to help them whenever they’re ready for help.”

“Tell me,” Alejandro said.

Toni raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, like a chastised child.