Why Affinity Spaces Matter
And how they reflect what we believe at WHPS
At WHPS, we’re proud to be a school that celebrates diversity—not just in word, but in daily practice. Through cultural celebrations, meaningful classroom conversations, and special programs supported by our parent organizations, we help expand students’ worldviews in ways that are joyful, age-appropriate, and lasting. We aim to create a space where every child and every family feels a deep sense of belonging.
So it’s natural that some families have asked, with heartfelt sincerity: “If we’re all trying to come together as one community, why have these groups? Doesn’t that divide us?”
It’s a fair and important question—and it comes from a good place: care, curiosity, and a desire to understand. In fact, when we first launched our BEARS group, one of the early questions we received came from a Black family, simply trying to understand how the group would function and what it meant. That family has since become a deeply involved part of the group and its growth. So we want to make space for these questions—not with defensiveness, but with reflection and honesty.
I’ve come to understand that almost all families carry some kind of invisible load—the emotional weight of navigating something others may not see. But for some, that load is heavier, more complex, or more visible.
It might be a family whose cultural or religious traditions mean they take different holidays, dress differently, or observe different life cycle events. It might be a parent who wears a head covering and wonders how others perceive them—or how their child might be treated because of it. It might be a child who comes back to school after missing a day and is asked by a friend, “Why weren’t you here yesterday?”—and suddenly, a joyful holiday or meaningful tradition becomes a moment of feeling different.
For Black families, these moments can carry a unique weight. Even in a school like ours—with a relatively diverse population (for this part of Los Angeles)—it might mean being among just two or three Black families in a class. And that means developmentally typical questions like “Why is your skin that color?” or “Why is your hair like that?”—though often rooted in innocent curiosity—can feel unexpectedly personal. Sometimes, the child may not give it a second thought. And other times, it might stay with them in a different way—prompting questions or feelings they’re still learning how to navigate.
There’s no perfect way for a school to stay ahead of these moments. When we teach history and civics in ways that acknowledge different experiences and perspectives, we invite rich, meaningful conversations—but also questions we can’t always predict. And even in schools that—perhaps out of discomfort, but in my view, shortsightedly—choose to avoid these topics, those questions still come. When they do, we have to be careful not to layer adult emotions onto a child’s innocent curiosity—but also to respond with thoughtfulness, context, and care.
But I want to share this with humility: As a school leader, I’ve been present for some of those moments—times when a child’s well-meaning question broke the seal on something a family had quietly braced for. And in those moments, something shifts. I can sit with the family in whatever feelings arise. I can be present. I can listen. But I know I can’t take the weight away.
If you’ve ever wondered why affinity spaces matter—try sitting with that.
Creating Spaces for Connection
Groups like BEARS (Black Education and Resource Support) and our Neurodiverse Family Affinity Group create space for families navigating these kinds of lived experiences to connect, reflect, and celebrate.
These groups weren’t created by formal school initiative—they were born from the vision and dedication of families who cared deeply about making our community even stronger. The school has been proud to support their growth every step of the way.
For neurodiverse families, the invisible load often includes far more than managing a diagnosis. It can mean parenting a child who sees the world differently—who may struggle to make or keep friends, or who processes social interactions in ways others don’t always understand.
It can mean bracing every time the phone rings, wondering if it’s about something their child said or did that others may view as inappropriate, even if it wasn’t meant that way. It can mean advocating—again and again—for people to see the strengths behind the behavior, and to believe in their child’s potential.
Having a space where those conversations don’t need to be explained or justified—that’s not just supportive, it’s healing.
Staying Grounded in Our Values
These groups aren’t about dividing our community.
They’re about deepening it.
They don’t teach values that go against WHPS’s mission—they embody it.
In fact, this is precisely the kind of authentic, values-driven community engagement we strive to nurture in our students—especially in our Upper Elementary program.
These are the years when students begin to examine history from multiple perspectives, revisit historical figures through a more critical lens, and ask bold questions like: Was this person a hero—or something more complicated?
At WHPS, our work around belonging isn’t performative—it’s personal, it’s thoughtful, and it’s rooted in the lived experiences of our community.
Especially in a moment when certain words, acronyms, and concepts around identity and inclusion are debated in the broader political and cultural landscape, we believe it’s more important than ever to be clear about who we are and what we stand for.
Looking Ahead
As we go into summer, one of my greatest hopes for the year ahead is that when emails and invitations go out next fall—whether it’s about getting involved in our affinity spaces or joining the meaningful work our parent organizations do to support cultural programming and celebrations—you’ll take a moment to pause.
Read. Reflect. And get involved.
Your level of participation can be whatever works for you. But your presence, your voice, a donation, your support—even in small ways—helps us build something stronger. Something that reflects who we are and what we stand for as a community.
And finally, a heartfelt thank you to three parents who have been instrumental in creating and sustaining these spaces: Rupa B., Nicole R., and Marianne M.
These groups didn’t emerge from a top-down plan—they were born from your vision, your generosity, and your quiet determination to build something that would last. You’ve given our school a gift that extends beyond your own children’s time here.
We’ll have the opportunity to acknowledge you at our end-of-year Parent Appreciation Breakfast (at the Pep Rally on Friday, May 30), but let this also serve as a love letter to the vision, care, and quiet leadership you’ve brought to this work.
I truly believe these groups will outlive your time at WHPS—and that is a beautiful legacy.
As a final note, I also hope that in the year ahead, when something comes up at school—whether it involves a peer who thinks or learns differently, or a child who is still learning how to navigate certain moments—families will take a breath and stay curious. These moments are part of the learning, too. And we’re here to help.
With love,
Seth Pozzi
Head of School
