As a child growing up in rural west-central Utah, I only knew one color: white.

Sure, there were a few Latino kids at my school, but overwhelmingly, my world was white—white classmates, white teachers, white neighbors. That was my norm. Then came sixth grade, and with it, the arrival of a single African-American student. One student. One beautiful, intriguing, interesting student who stood out simply by existing.

I did not have the language back then to describe what I was experiencing, but looking back, that was my very first encounter with diversity. And it left an impression.

Still, no one talked about it. Diversity and inclusion were not words we used. Equity was not a concept we were taught. I do not recall a single lesson, assembly, or conversation in school that asked us to reflect on the variety of human experiences that exist beyond our own. Diversity in communication didn’t exist, because other than that one student, we were basically one size fits all and there was no per...