“She notices if the energy changes, she knows if I’m sad when I walk in and a teacher wouldn’t notice that, she notices what I don’t have to say” – Ashley, 16

Ashley was a participant in the Teen STEM program at a local Boys and Girls Club (BGC). She participated in the program for about 2 years, and we developed a very strong relationship. Ashley’s quote is a response to the question, “What do you think Ms. Tee notices about you that is different from what your science teacher notices about you? What do you think Ms.Tee notices about you that is different from what your science teacher notices about you? (Ms Tee is how the youth often referred to Worsley)”. She was part of a group interview focused on gaining youth’s perspectives about my pedagogical practices throughout the program. Ashley’s sentiment is one expressed by many Black learners being made to feel invisible and unheard within their classrooms. “Like Ashley’s experience, when I was in K12 I too had the feeling of not being fully seen by teachers (K12 refers to formal schooling from kindergarten to 12th grade within the United States).” As a K12 student, I was labeled as “one of the smart ones” making my academic achievement hyper-visible to teachers. While my academic achievements were extremely noticeable to teachers, my other intersecting identities were often cast to the side. For me, this meant there were no spaces to be anything other than just that, “a smart one”. Nuanced and complex intersections of who I was, were not tended to, yet my intellectual abilities were. In King’s (2017) article, Black girls in an afterschool STEM program, highlighted how impactful the educator–youth relationship was for their learning because it created visibility for them. As an educator in a community-based informal STEM program, I drew from my K12 experiences to create spaces of humanization for Black youth to bring all their intersecting identities to learn and understand what it means for them to engage in STEM as Black youth (Morton and Parsons 2018; Ong, Wright, Espinosa, and Orfeld 2011). For these reasons I ask the question, what does it mean to engage in informal STEM teaching and learning when the environment is undergirded in the principles of Black Love?

Informal STEM engagement for youth of color

Historically, persons of color have been severely misrepresented in STEM-based majors and careers across areas of management, leadership, and the workforce (Calabrese Barton, Tan, and Greenberg 2017; Habig et al. 2021). This lack of representation contributes to youth of color not wanting to pursue STEM as a career (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2010; King and Pringle 2018). When we zoom out and look at the STEM pipeline, there are glaring inadequacies for historically excluded youth (Bell, Van Horne, and Cheng 2017). These inadequacies can be attributed to backgrounds of low-socioeconomic status, oppression, and varying levels of systemic and societal racism (Gutiérrez 2013). These disparities lead one to ask the question, what and where are the opportunities for Black youth to become not only engaged in STEM but to feel authentically a part of and represented in STEM. One outlet is by participating in informal STEM programs.

Informal programs are commonly defined as learning programs that take place outside of formal learning settings, i.e., classrooms. Informal STEM programs play a crucial role in science learning, given that most learning occurs outside formal classrooms (Bell, Lewenstein, Shouse, and Feder 2009; Falk and Dierking 2010). These programs emphasize learner agency, cultural relevance, and authentic engagement, helping youth see themselves as capable contributors to the scientific community (Calabrese Barton, Tan, and Greenberg 2017). The opportunities for youth of color across informal STEM programs include leveraging their funds of knowledge (Gonzalez, Moll, Tenery, Rivera, Rendon, Gonzales, and Amanti 1995) and community cultural wealth (Yosso 2005) to engage in STEM through its multiple entry points (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2010; Dawson 2017).

One example of this is King and Pringle’s (2018) community-based, non-residential summer program (I AM STEM) for K12 students of color. This camp focused on improving youth’s interests and engagement in STEM. One of the main principles of the I AM STEM program was to tend to the whole child (mind, body, and spirit) and foster ‘culturally healthy’ students. As King and Pringle (2018) reflected on Black girl’s experiences within I AM STEM, three criteria emerged as key: (1) Authentic STEM experiences via field trips, (2) continuation of STEM activities, and (3) attention to the role of race in their formal STEM experiences. For the participants field trips offered a means to engage in STEM learning and expand their knowledge about the possibilities in STEM. On these field trips, the girls had opportunities to build connections between new concepts and prior knowledge. This created authentic STEM experiences for the participants to problem solve issues that were of interest which further led them to look for STEM opportunities outside of the program. Participants were now signing up for other STEM-based camps within the community, at museums, and within their schools to further develop their STEM learning. Lastly, when participants reflected on their formal experiences, they identified how they felt racialized in their science classrooms reflecting on how White girls were treated better by their teachers.

Antiblackness in STEM

STEM traditionally has been taught from a westernized perspective directly making these learning environments rooted in anti-Blackness. Jenkins (2021) defines anti-Blackness as “the socially constructed notion that Black people are non-human, inherently problematic, and disposable, structures the spatial arrangement and social imaginaries of every facet of American society” (p. 111). Dumas (2016) also states that “Black is not only misrecognized, but unrecognizable as human, and therefore there is no social or political relationship to be fostered or restored” (p. 14). Educators should recognize and push back on these traditional norms that are embedded in science/STEM. To restore, foster, and humanize Black youth within STEM means supporting Black youth to find joy in STEM-rich making while loving themselves, especially their Blackness, throughout the process (Adams 2022; Love 2019; Worsley and Roby 2021). hooks (1994) describes this phenomenon as creating or fostering a sense of classroom community and how as teachers our capacity to generate excitement is deeply rooted in our “interest in one another, in hearing one another’s voices, in recognizing one another’s presence” (p. 8).

Going back to the I AM STEM program, King (2017) did another study that focused specifically on Black girls’ experiences with their teachers (both formal and informal). Participants identified crucial factors of educators that had encouraged and motivated them to continue in STEM. From their responses, the girls spoke highly of their experiences with their informal STEM educators. The girls identified three criteria for educators that were key to their engagement in STEM. These included: (1) responding to the girls’ needs and building a community of learners, (2) professional interactions with parents, and (3) encouraging critical thinking and creativity.

Teachers that were patient and responsive to the girls’ needs made them feel valued. In turn a shared culture of community was developed where the girls established strong bonds with their educators. Educators also engaged in positive, professional interactions with parents, informing parents about their girl’s progress and providing opportunities for the girls to share their experiences with their parents. These positive interactions between educators and parents played a critical role in supporting the academic achievement and overall success of Black girls in school settings. Lastly the girls benefitted from educators who supported their critical thinking while promoting academic success. By engaging in rigorous STEM activities that had real-life applications the girls had opportunities to learn in non-traditional and creative ways.

Conceptual framework

This article integrates the theoretical frameworks of rightful presence (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020) and politicized care (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017). Politicized care is utilized due to its focus on Black student–teacher relationships in secondary grades and its attention to power differentials to support youth. Rightful presence is employed because of its emphasis on students being able to express their authentic selves within learning environments.

Politicized care

Politicized care (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017) is developed from culturally relevant pedagogies (Ladson-Billings 1995) and culturally responsive teaching (Gay 2002). Both teaching practices highlight the importance of relationships between teachers and students where teachers can use their professional capital to support the whole child. McKinney et al. (2017) developed politicized care as a framework that focused on positive student–teacher relationships in the Manhood Development Program (MDP) between Black male mentors and Black male students in middle and high school. For the high school students, MDP was offered as an elective course and for the middle school students, it was offered as an afterschool program. The program’s purpose was to “increase attendance, lower suspensions and expulsions, promote self-awareness, and help cultivate healthy identities” (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017, p. 9).

Politicized care emerged as a collective consciousness that Black educators shared for their Black students. Politicized care consists of four tenets that include (a) political clarity, (b) communal bonds, (c) potential affirming, and (d) developmentally appropriate (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017, pg. 8). Political clarity is the transparency about the nature of oppression that influences how Black educators and Black youth interact. Communal bonds are the community developed by educators and youth that push to disrupt systems of inequality. Potential affirming is maintaining high expectations of youth and recognizing what they can do rather than focusing on culturally based deficits. Last developmentally appropriate acknowledges the vulnerability of Black youth and meets their needs emotionally, socially, and cognitively.

Rightful presence

Rightful presence (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020) “focuses on the processes of reauthoring rights toward making present the lives of those made missing by the systemic injustices inherent in schooling and the disciplines” (p. 4). Rightful presence goes beyond youth having access to a space as an equitable opportunity, it asks the question if youth have been extended the right to feel that they can authentically be their whole selves and participate meaningfully in ways that matter to them. In the article Calabrese Barton and Tan (2020) present a classroom vignette where a student, Amir, participates in a forensic science investigation, while his teacher, Mr. A, explains the role of forensics in evidence-based detective work is to ensure fair and accurate convictions. After hearing this Amir responds stating “Unless you’re black! If you’re Black you’ll be convicted (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020, p.3)”. This moment illustrates how pedagogical practices that make present and problematize historical context can lead to discussions about the racialized dimensions of science education. Such approaches may foster a greater sense of a rightful presence among students (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020).

Rightful presence has three tenets; allied political struggle, rightfulness established through presence, and culture of disruption. Allied political struggle is the challenge by which educators endure to extend the rights to reauthor to youth and undergirds all three tenets. Rightfulness established through presence makes known the intersections of systemic injustice in youth’s lives and their engagement in disciplinary learning that opens up new educational possibilities (Collins 2000; Morris 2007). A culture of disruption is moving from the traditional practices seeped in dominant ideology through the reauthoring and extending of rights that lead to shifts in classroom hierarchies of power.

This article aims to build on the theoretical frameworks of rightful presence and politicized care to understand and improve STEM learning experiences for Black students. Politicized care emphasizes strong educator–youth relationships and rightful presence addresses systemic injustices in education by advocating for environments where students can express their authentic selves. Together these frameworks inform new possibilities of how to theorize educator–youth relationships specifically in informal STEM settings.

Methodology

Since the research question is informed by educator–youth interactions and disruption of power dynamics, this study employs participatory design research (PDR). PDR is a form of design-based research that centers the agency of youth and educators by actively involving them as co-designers in the learning process (Bang and Vossoughi 2016; Vakil, McKinney de Royston, Nasir, and Kirshner 2016; Zavala 2016). It seeks not only to generate solutions but to challenge and redistribute power within educational settings, aligning closely with the goals of politicized care (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman, 2017) and rightful presence (Calabrese Barton and Tan, 2020). Bang and Vossoughi (2016) describe PDR as; “the domain of the “researched” is expanded to include the relational, pedagogical, and design-based activity of researchers themselves (Bang et al. 2010; Vossoughi, Hooper, and Escudé 2016), creating potentially new openings for reciprocity, accountability, and the de-settling of normative hierarchies of power” (p. 174). Traditional design-based research has been critiqued for its limited attention to race and power, by having a strong emphasis on learning and disciplinary areas only (Engeström 2011; Vakil, McKinney de Royston, Nasir, and Kirshner 2016) . PDR addresses this limitation by highlighting the relational dynamics between participants, particularly the interactions between educators and youth. These dynamics are essential for  re-mediating who has power by dismantling and disrupting traditional power hierarchies where the researcher is positioned as the expert.

Bang and Vossoughi (2016) emphasize the importance of attending to critical historicity, power, and relational dynamics as it shapes collaborative partnerships and learning that emerges from them (p. 174). Critical historicity refers to the ways political and theoretical histories are intertwined with participants’ onto-epistemologies. Relational dynamics particularly those between subject–subject (educator-youth) are highlighted as consequential to fostering meaningful engagement and learning. Traditional design-based research often overlooks these dynamics, focusing instead on subject–object (youth learning). By centering subject–subject interactions, PDR opens up the opportunities to critically examine how, why, and for whom design descisions are made (Bang and Vossoughi 2016; Engeström 2011).

Engaging in PDR requires trust, access, critical historicity, power, and relational dynamics. I have worked with the BGC community for about 6 years (~ 350 contact hours). During this time we (myself, youth, and staff) have developed mutual trust which has allowed me continued access to and in the community. Most notably at the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic, I was one of the few trusted individuals (outside of staff) to be physically permitted into the building to continue working with youth. This extensive time within the BGC community has also enabled me to establish deep and meaningful relationships with youth. This is significant because it has helped me become aware of critical historicity and its impact on relational dynamics. By this I mean I have learned about the youth’s nuanced histories of engaging in prior STEM programs at the BGC and how they have been affected by formal STEM/science experiences. These past experiences also address relational dynamics as I have borne witness to the negative effects of relational dynamics that lead youth to disassociate themselves from STEM/science (Johnson, Brown, Carlone, and Cuevas 2011; Ong, Wright, Espinosa, and Orfeld 2011). This sustained engagement not only shaped the research relationships and trust within the BGC, but also deeply intersected with my own lived experiences and positionality.

Positionality

I identify as a Black woman raised in a small rural community in the Southeast of the USA. I bring to this work my own intersecting identities of being a Black woman who has always engaged in STEM yet constantly looked for my own rightful presence in STEM (Butler 2018, p. 29). My STEM experiences as a child were rooted in family and community as it was the only outlet where my STEM expertise was not only acknowledged but celebrated (King 2021). This larger study is strongly connected to me as I too have always had to fight to be in spaces that have not traditionally been occupied by Black people (Evans-Winters and Esposito 2010). Because of this I strive to ensure the learning environments I co-create with youth are uplifting and productive for their learning. As the researcher, I acknowledge I brought my own beliefs, perceptions, biases, and experiences to the study. In line with Peshkin’s (1988) assertion about the importance of being aware of one’s subjectivity, I remain critically self-aware of how my positionality shaped the research process.

As a child my greatest joy was to put things together and take things apart to understand how they function, thus sparking my passion for tinkering. This led me to pursue mechanical engineering degree at a public university in the Southeastern USA. As an undergraduate pursuing mechanical engineering I struggled with one of my science courses and went to the appointed advisor, Dr. Phan (pseudonym) for help. As I entered Dr. Phan’s office I explained the course I was struggling with and the steps I had taken to improve my grade, hoping for guidance on next steps. Without even a second glance from her coffee I was told that if I could not “hack” the course, then I could not “hack” engineering so I should just change majors. I left Dr. Phan’s office in shock, unable to believe how dehumanizing her response was, especially without any further questions.

While I was defeated by this response, I was also deeply determined that this would not be the end of my journey (Tan and Calabrese Barton 2020). Shortly after the encounter I spoke with the engineering undergraduate advisor, Dr. Simpson (pseudonym). As soon I sat down in the chair, I began crying prompting Dr. Simpson to pause, sit beside me, and tell me to take a moment for myself. After I pulled myself together I shared the same struggle that I had previously shared with Dr. Phan. Dr. Simpson acknowledged my struggle and then said “before I make a suggestion tell me why did you choose engineering in the first place”. I began to explain how I was good with my hands and enjoyed building and fixing things. Dr. Simpson saw the joy return to my face, and said, “I think I know where you belong”. She suggested I look into the agricultural and environmental technology major because it perfectly suited what I described. Agricultural and environmental technology is an engineering technology based major that emphasizes the practical, hands-on application of engineering principles. In contrast to traditional engineering, which is usually more theoretical in nature, further making Dr. Simpson’s recommendation deeply affirming.

This encounter shows the importance of centering the student and working around their wants and needs. When I began working with youth in the area of STEM, I wanted to ensure that the space they were entering felt like their whole selves were welcome as well as their ideas. During our weekly sessions youth have shared many aspects of their lives including both joy and frustrations, especially at school. At the BGC I was more than just a researcher, I a friend, encourager, and mentor.

Research context

This study took place at an informal community-based makerspace housed in a local BGC, where the youth and staff are predominately Black. Here I shared dual roles as both researcher and educator for both programs. The first program, Green Club,was geared towards youth in grades 6th and 7th and youth in these grades were automatically placed in Green Club per the BGC Directors. The second program, Teen STEM program, was for youth aged 13–18. The Teen STEM Program was offered as an elective club where youth chose to participate. In both programs youth had a strong bond and sense of ownership as many of them went to school together and lived near each other. Both STEM programs became a place where youth could vent about their daily struggles as well as share joyous moments. During programming youth had the freedom to move about the room, step away for breaks, and catch up with other friends.

For the Green Club I focus on the programming year from September 2018–May 2019. During this period the primary focus was learning how to code using Scratch, a block-based coding platform. The Green Club met weekly for an hour, totaling approximately 30 sessions. The Teen STEM Program examined across two programming years from September 2019–May 2021. From September 2019–March 2020, youth learned about e-textiles (electrical embroidery) and 3D printing using Tinkercad. In March 2020, programming was interrupted due to a statewide stay at home order issued in response to the Covid-19 pandemic. After a 6-month hiatus, programming resumed in September 2020. From September 2020–May 2021, youth worked on a Covid-responsive STEM design challenge where they were tasked with redesigning the inside of a Boeing 737 to meet new Covid-19 safety and health guidelines. Over the 2-year period the Teen STEM Program met weekly, totaling approximately 50 sessions.

Data sources

Data sources include fieldnotes, youth and educator made artifacts, group interviews, and audio/videos. Fieldnotes were taken after programming sessions equating to more than 150 sessions. Artifacts included projects made by youth as well as the educator’s scaffolding resources to aid in the development of projects. Group interviews were conducted during the summer of 2021 where youth reflected on my pedagogical practices. To participate, youth were required to have worked with me in-person for at least 1 year. In-person was specified as some youth had only worked with me virtually due to the Covid-19 pandemic. A total of ten youth divided into groups of four and six were interviewed for about 20–25 minutes each. Notably, youth who had previously participated in the Green Club and later transitioned into the Teen STEM Program were interviewed together. For ethical purposes, the interview was conducted by my academic advisor. She identifies as an Asian woman and had worked within the space for more than a decade. Her various roles included co-facilitator, researcher, and mentor within Green Club and the Teen STEM program. Audio/video recordings were taken over the span of project development while periodically video logs (vlogs) were recorded.

Data analysis

Drawing on a grounded theory approach (Glaser 1992; Charmaz 2014), all fieldnotes were read thoroughly to identify my pedagogical approach in which both myself and the youth were establishing rightful presence (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020) and I was modeling politicized care (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017). During a second round of analysis, I wrote analytic memos to state my interpretations, identify emergent themes, and trace their alignment to rightful presence and politicized care (Saldaña 2016). Three overarching themes were identified (1) STEM epistemologies and ontologies (2) integration of youth voice and interest, and (3) relationship building. These themes were further discussed and refined in collaboration with my academic advisor. Table 1 provides an example of how I thought about those themes.

Table 1 Example of analytic memo
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To expand upon the overarching themes, a third reading of the fieldnotes focused on how each theme was enacted through my pedagogical practice. As specific actions associated with each theme were identified, further condensing was necessary due to the variety of actions observed. This iterative process led to the development of two main tenets and ten sub-tenets. To ensure validity, a fourth reading of the fieldnotes was conducted, during which data were coded using both main and sub-tenets (Glesne 2016; Maxwell 2012). Following this, I discussed with my advisor again, and together we determined that a group interview was needed to gain the perspectives from the youth.

A group interview was subsequently conducted to gather youth perspectives. These interviews were analyzed through additional analytical memos, and youth responses were used to refine the tenets to more accurately reflect both mine and  youth’s interpretations. This led to another consultation with my advisor to ensure validity (Glesne 2016; Maxwell 2012). Lastly, with the integration of youth perspectives, the codes were refined for better understanding. The following vignettes are used to communicate findings as they provide rich descriptions of the themes.

Findings

In this article, I sought to identify what it means to engage in informal STEM learning when the environment is undergirded in the principles of Black Love. This meant conceptualizing the restoring, fostering, and humanizing of Blackness within informal STEM programs (Adams 2020). To show youth Black Love is to validate their varied, non-traditional interests in STEM and to humanize youth by creating critical community while working alongside them. In doing this youth feel loved and cared for thus supporting them to find educational freedom within STEM. Black Love (Fig. 1) is comprised of two main tenets—STEM-related onto-epistemologies and critical relationality focused on integration of youth voice and interest.

Fig. 1
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Black love framework

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STEM-related onto-epistemologies (Tenet 1) has three sub-tenets that include: (1) high expectations of youth’s STEM expertise and ability to do rigorous STEM now, (2) validating youth’s ideas so youth see themselves as a doer of STEM, and (3) active noticing. The sub-tenet of active noticing includes (1) just-in-time teaching and (2) culturally “STEMulating” pedagogical practices. Critical relationality focused on the integration of youth voice and interest (Tenet 2) has two sub-tenets that include (1) collaboration in planning and (2) critical community building through humanizing youth. The sub-tenet of critical community building through humanizing youth includes (1) acknowledgement of feelings, (2) learning and use of names, and (3) space for critical conversations.

“I’m a Coder”—STEM-related onto-epistemologies (Tenet 1)

A previous study (Worsley and Tan, 2024) examined Donovan’s coding trajectory through the frameworks of critical agency and politicized trust, highlighting how relational dynamics shaped his engagement and growth as a coder. This current analysis re-engages Donovan’s story to explore his coding trajectory through the lens of STEM-related onto-epistemologies. At the time of the study, Donovan was 11 years old and very soft-spoken. He had a strong interest in sports, especially basketball and football, and during Green Club he often liked to keep up with the latest stats and updates on his favorite teams and players. He also had an interest in “donk” cars, which are older model Chevrolets that have tall rims and wheels and have been redesigned and upgraded (Fig. 2). Although Donovan was enthusiastic about working with technology and eager to explore various tools, he was at times hesitant to engage in STEM-related activities when he felt uncertain. In such moments, he would quietly redirect his attention to familiar interests, such as searching for donk cars or checking updates on sports figures using Google.

Fig. 2
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Donk car

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As Donovan was introduced to STEM practices, he would sense-make what it meant for him to participate in STEM learning. His trajectory of learning to code with a block-based program, called Scratch, was filled with tension and success throughout the year. While Donovan consistently demonstrated interest in coding by opening the program and attempting to code, there were often moments when he would pause or disengage. I pause here to emphasize that Donovan’s decision to stop coding was driven by a lack of understanding rather than a lack of interest. Misinterpreting such behavior as disinterest can lead to harmful pedagogical consequences. When students are perceived as uninterested, educators may unintentionally reinforce patterns of exclusion (Skiba, Michael, Nardo, and Peterson 2002). This dynamic is particularly concerning given the persistent stereotype that Black students are inherently less interested or capable in STEM.

Such assumptions contribute to systemic inequities by limiting opportunities for students to persist, engage, and develop a rightful presence in STEM learning environments (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020; McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017). However, Donovan did not verbalize his need for help, he would sit silently or use the laptop to google his favorite football and basketball players or donk cars (Au 1980). Instead of trying to “correct” this behavior by forcing him to be on task, I leaned into his interest to develop his STEM-related onto-epistemology. By this I mean Donovan retained access to the laptop even when he used it for non-coding purposes. In many educational settings, students are penalized for perceived behavioral issues by having materials withheld (Skiba, Michael, Nardo, and Peterson 2002). In contrast Donovan’s consistent access to resources created an environment that affirmed his right to learn (Varelas, Pappas, Kane, Arsenault, Hankes, and Cowan 2008).

In designing for programming, educators must consider what and who are being valued, and toward what end. STEM-related onto-epistemologies represent the intersections of who someone is (ontology) and how they develop STEM-related knowledge (epistemology) (Barajas-López and Bang 2018; Tan, Calabrese Barton, and Benavides 2019). The two are inextricably tied together and are constantly working with and against each other (Warren, Vossoughi, Rosebery, Bang, and Taylor 2020). STEM-related onto-epistemologies is named as the first tenet because I lead with teaching STEM practices. Supporting these various methods of engagement through a culture of disrupting what has traditionally been accepted as coding helped Donovan to establish his rightful presence (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020).

One of the major coding projects for Donovan was to create a game to present at a university-based science festival. Donovan decided to create a pong game for the event. Pong is where you must keep an item in play by not allowing it to hit the bottom of the screen. Before Donovan created his game I explicitly shared with him what I had noticed with his coding progress. I acknowledged his consistent effort with coding which lead me to believe that he wanted to create a pong game. Next, I stated that I would fully support him by sitting beside him everyday throughout programming to ensure that his game was completed in the way that he envisioned. After this exchange, Donovan decided to incorporate his interest of sports and donk cars into his game (Fig. 3).

Fig. 3
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Donovan’s game

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Once his pong game was completed Donovan coded one more game that was football-themed where he took the lead and only asked me for help when needed. Toward the end of Green Club, Donovan began to self-identify as a coder which affirmed his potential (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017). To support Donovan as he developed his STEM-related onto-epistemologies the three following sub-tenets were key: (1) validating various methods so youth see themselves as doers of STEM, (2) high expectations of youth’s STEM expertise and ability to do rigorous STEM now, and (3) active noticing.

Validating various methods so youth see themselves as a doer of STEM

The process of learning science has traditionally been leveraged in alignment with the scientific method which includes observing, asking questions, forming hypotheses, making predictions, testing that theory, and being able to iterate that theory. Science is not meant to be static nor is the process of learning it. Rather it is a process that inherently requires trial and error. When youth engage in STEM, they often focus on being correct or doing something the right way, but it is important for youth to know that messing up is a key part of the learning process (Calabrese Barton, Tan, and Greenberg 2017; Heredia and Tan 2020). Heredia and Tan (2020) state, “the iterative nature of making requires that students have access to feedback from authentic audiences, time for revision of projects based on feedback, and learning through failure/mistakes” (p. 2).

I argue that understanding what does not work is just as valuable as knowing what does. Youth come from different backgrounds and draw from different funds of knowledge (Gonzalez, Moll, Tenery, Rivera, Rendon, Gonzales, and Amanti 1995) when sense-making how to move forward in STEM. When engaging in STEM there are multiple ways to reach solutions and solutions are informed by youth’s onto-epistemologies. The learning environment should be reflective of that process and support youth learning STEM in varied ways. As youth sense-make what it means for them to engage in STEM they begin to see themselves as a doer of STEM which is key to imagining their future selves (Likely and Worsley 2025; Calabrese Barton and Tan 2010; Roberts 2010; Wright 2019).

Donovan engaged in an iterative process of learning how coding works, navigating a cycle of trial and error to deepen his understanding. His participation in Green Club provided a context in which his ideas about what a coded game could look like were validated through pedagogical practices that valued his interests and ways of knowing. This validation supported Donovan to see himself as a doer of rigorous STEM. When asked about the differences between Green Club and his formal science classroom, Donovan responded “I participate more” signaling a shift in his engagement and identity within STEM. I intentionally engaged in political struggle by supporting Donovan’s rightful presence, by extending the right to reauthor coding to Donovan and encouraging him to incorporate basketball, football, and donk cars into his game (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020).

High expectations of youth’s STEM expertise and ability to do rigorous STEM now

Maintaining high expectations of youth’s ability to do rigorous STEM now, sets a tone for the learning environment and reinforces the positioning that youth “can” (Ladson-Billings 1995; McKinney de Royston, Madkins, Givens, and Nasir 2020). Emphasizing the now is intentional because while it is important to speak to youth’s future potential, the reality is that we are asking them to engage in complex STEM practices in the present. Recognizing their current capacity affirms that even at 11 years old, youth are doers of STEM. High expectations set a norm that youth not only do the work but that they put forth the effort and take pride in their work. Through the Black Love Framework, educators should value youth and the work they produce as an extension of themselves. When youth share their expertise with others, they begin to see the value in their work and their abilities in STEM. Youth can become discouraged when they feel they cannot do something however, it is important for youth to understand and navigate their frustrations while continuing to work through them. By maintaining high expectations youth begin to realize that they are not alone in their learning and their educator is there to ensure they get what they need to engage in rigorous STEM.

Throughout Donovan’s coding trajectory, I modeled politicized care through potential affirming by consistently holding him to high expectations in his ability to do rigorous STEM now (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017). During the group interview Donovan named “how she talks to me, how she approaches me” as a key indicator of these high expectations. Week after week, Donovan was positioned and addressed as a coder, with no reduction in workload. This consistent positioning, grounded in belief of his capabilities, modeled what it means to care for youth not by shielding them from a challenge, but supporting them through it.

Active noticing

As a result of the weekly sustained engagement in programming, there were a wealth of opportunities to notice how youth learn, work, and create connections in their learning environment (Gay 2002). While a significant portion of noticing occurred through observation, I advocate for active noticing because the observations were then utilized to support youth learning. Observing youth as they engaged in STEM activities provided insight into youth's conceptual understanding, thus informing my pedagogical moves. Knowing youth's conceptual understandings about STEM activities supported just-in-time (JiT) teaching (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2018) and identification of what culturally “STEMulate” youth in STEM.

JiT teaching

JiT teaching is a responsive form of teaching to what youth need in the moment to get them to the next step (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2018). This can look like teaching a specific STEM skill, assisting youth in navigating challenges (i.e. moments of frustration or discouragement), or expanding on ideas they have brought to programming. JiT teaching requires educators to be extremely observant, particularly in recognizing what youth are focusing on in the moment. Understanding youth's thinking enables educators to respond effectively to their emerging needs, which also may require the educator to quickly learn a new skill and share that expertise.

Culturally “STEMulating” skills

When engaging youth in STEM, it is important to provide more than culturally relevant material. While culturally relevant material can serve as an effective entry point that engages/hooks youth by utilizing their interest, this only scratches the surface. It becomes culturally “STEMulating” when youth, motivated by these interests, actively pursue the STEM-related skills necessary to realize their ideas. For example, if youth are tasked with coding a game where a character moves from left to right and because of the vision that youth has they choose to design their own character or incorporate background music they are making their game culturally relevant. By engaging in this level of customization youth are STEMulated to acquire additional STEM-based skills that are beyond the original requirements.

To co-create these opportunities with Donovan required actively noticing his interests and determining what he needed at each step to progress with his game creation. I actively noticed that Donovan consistently attempted to code and showed interest in sports and donk cars. This led to JiT teaching on how to download images from the internet and upload them into Scratch enabling Donovan to continue coding. Culturally “STEMulating” pedagogical practices were addressed by encouraging Donovan to integrate his personal interests using these as a motivator to sustain his engagement in coding.

“She knows me on a more personal level”—critical relationality focused on integration of youth voice and interest (Tenet 2)

The second vignette highlights critical relationality focused on the integration of youth voice and interest. Critical relationality means that “my humanity, my integrity, and my dignity are rooted in my willingness to safeguard your humanity, secure your integrity, and protect your dignity” (Olivares and Tucker-Raymond 2020). This vignette is about Sa’Ryah, an outspoken, 16 year old (at the time of study) Black girl. Sa’Ryah had no issues telling others her expectations and how she felt. She was considered a veteran at BGC because she had been a member since she was about 6 years old. Because of this Sa’Ryah had witnessed a lot of changes at the club including staff. Most notably within the Teen Center there had been about four changes of Teen Directors within a couple of years. When the Teen STEM Program started in September 2019, there was once again a change of the Teen Director.

Sa’Ryah’s relationships with staff at the BGC had become unstable. She found it hard to build relationships because of the constant transition of adult staff. When the Teen STEM program started, Sa’Ryah approached me to ask what I was doing there and I explained that I would be leading the STEM program. Initially, Sa’Ryah did not want to participate and would avoid STEM engagement unless required, and this went on for about 3 months. During this time the decision for Sa’Ryah to engage in STEM was usually left up to her unless required by the BGC Director. As the educator, it was important to recognize the power and influence I held (King 2017; King and Pringle 2018) with Sa’Ryah. This meant being aware of how my actions and thoughts could influence youth. For this reason I would not force Sa’Ryah to participate because co-creating an authentic relationship would take time and trust. This approach to relationship building was grounded in critical relationality focused on the integration of youth voice and interest by creating opportunities for the following two sub-tenets: (1) collaboration in planning and (2) critical community building through humanizing youth.

Collaboration in planning

One of Sa’Ryah’s first projects was learning how to make e-textiles (electronic embroidery). There was a lot of tension with e-textiles because youth were becoming tired of the activity. Youth were not familiar with sustained projects and in return were ready to move on to the next activity. As we engaged in e-textiles, Sa’Ryah (among other youth) consistently stated that she was tired of e-textiles and would rather do art. I asked questions about the type of art youth wanted to do and they said painting. I further asked youth if we switch to painting, how can we integrate STEM into it. Youth were unsure about how to integrate STEM so I suggested electrical art because circuitry was one of our upcoming topics after e-textiles. Sa’Ryah was among the first to approve the shift to electrical art.

By including Sa’Ryah (and other youth) in the planning of programming it reduced the power dynamics. Overall youth were more engaged with STEM-based projects when they felt connected and it was something they wanted to do (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2018; Mensah 2011). When planning for programming, there should be space for integration of youth voice and interest. This reduces power dynamics and gives youth the agency and confidence to speak up and advocate for their learning. By integrating their interest into their STEM practices they make their projects their own. In formal settings, science tends to be taught traditionally which can lead youth of color to not be interested or identify with STEM (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2018; Gutiérrez 2008; Mensah 2011). This created an opportunity for Sa’Ryah to reauthor rights by developing agency within the STEM program (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020). The learning environment needed to be a safe space where Sa’Ryah felt comfortable enough to share her interests (hooks 2001).

Critical community building through humanizing youth

Critical community building includes communicating across difference, attending to power, and engaging in ongoing reflexivity (Bettez and Hytten 2013). Humanizing youth supports them to be their authentic selves and welcomes their lived experiences to support their learning (Bartolomé 1994; Ladson-Billings 1995; ross, Nasir, Givens, McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Madkins, and Philoxene 2016). Within the Teen STEM program humanizing youth was enacted by acknowledging youth’s feelings, learning their names and using them, and creating space for critical conversations that youth want to engage in.

Sa’Ryah shifted into creating electrical art and it provided opportunities for us to build our relationship because she was participating more in STEM. As a result of this I learned how to correctly spell her name. When I would write down our plans for the day or take notes, I would write Sa’Ryah’s name by notes that were associated with her. Every time she saw her name written, she would express how shocked she was that I knew how to spell her name. I asked why and Sa’Ryah said “nobody knows how to spell my name except like my mom and sister and maybe a few close people”. Each time I would emphasize to her well it is your name and the least I can do is learn how to spell it and say it correctly. Sa’Ryah asked about my name and when she saw how I spelled my own name, I nudged her and said see I understand. As Sa’Ryah wrapped up her electrical art project, she shared that she was sorry for how she acted toward me (very distant) in the beginning but she was going through some things. I thanked her for the apology and shared that it was okay for her to feel that way.

After this exchange Sa’Ryah became excited to participate in STEM and build our relationship. Over the next 3 years, STEM was always a top priority program for Sa’Ryah. Not only did STEM become a priority for Sa’Ryah she held our relationship in high regard as well. This was especially noticeable during the Covid-19 pandemic when everything was uncertain. In these interactions, I saw how Sa’Ryah’s rightfulness was established through my consistent presence which led to new possibilities of STEM learning for Sa’Ryah (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020).

When STEM programming resumed in the fall of 2020, it looked very different due to the fluctuating effects of the Covid-19 pandemic. Factors beyond anyone’s control such as positive cases among youth and staff, school closings and openings, and new BGC safety protocols contributed to this uncertainty. The STEM program was now reduced to five participants including Sa’Ryah. Due to us being a smaller group we were able to develop even stronger connections as this became our own new normal. One day during programming Sa’Ryah vented about the testing schedule at her school and that it did not make sense to her. I agreed that it was a crazy time and everything was very up in the air unfortunately. Sa’Ryah then looked at me and said, “Ms. Tee you are the only consistent thing I have right now. Like I don’t know if I’m going to school or if we’ll be virtual. But I do know you will be here on Monday.” I smiled and said, “Thank you, I try.”

This moment shows the criticality of having consistent relationships with youth, especially during times of instability. Consistent and supportive educator-youth relationships promote stability and emotional well-being for youth (Liang et al. 2008; Rhodes 2005). Sa’Ryah’s highlights how our sustained weekly sessions served as a point of stability during a time of uncertainty. This moment also reflects my commitment to critical community building by fostering trust (Bettez and Hytten 2013). Sa’Ryah’s recognition of my presence was not just an expression of trust but also affirmation of her own humanization within the space.

Acknowledgment of feelings

There can be an expectation that youth should be “positive” and always ready “to do”/engage in activities, but this is not always the case. It is normal that after an almost eight-hour day and bus transportation youth may be tired, irritated, or just need a break. When youth come to programming, there is a check-in to see how they are doing. Usually, they respond by saying that they are tired or just not in the mood (for STEM), and it is suggested they walk around, get water, or I ask how I can help. Once we discuss youth’s needs and make the necessary adjustments, youth are ready to get to work (Brown-Jeffy and Cooper 2011). However, it is important to state that acknowledgment of feelings is not limited to how youth feel physically or emotionally but also includes how they feel about STEM.

For example, if youth are unsure of what it means for them to be in STEM, it is acknowledged by working closely with them so educators understand how they see themselves in STEM. Acknowledging feelings also requires active listening. When youth decide to share parts of their daily lives, it is important for educators to actively listen to show what youth have to say is valued. As youth discuss parts of their daily life it can provide insight into their interest. Listening to youth can support educators to learn their interest and find or suggest ways they can integrate that into their STEM projects. This opens up opportunities for them to engage in STEM in culturally relevant and STEMulating ways (Ladson-Billings 1995; Roberts 2010).

Learning and use of names

Names are our identities, and it is important for educators to make the effort to not only learn youth’s names but to make sure that it is spelled and pronounced correctly, especially for youth of color (Kohli and Solórzano 2012; Roberts 2010). The youth at BGC are predominately Black and some of their names are not considered “common” to the dominant culture. Their names sometimes contain punctuation and may be hard to read upon the first try. As someone who also shares the daily challenges of having a unique name, it is imperative to address youth the correct and respectful way.

Space for critical conversations

Lastly, it is important that youth can discuss issues that relate to race and power as they affect their livelihood (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020; King and Pringle 2018). These can be difficult conversations for educators to hear from youth. However it is important that when these conversations take place, it is not for the educator to solve the problem that youth are discussing but instead to create space for the conversation. Critical conversations can be difficult and uncomfortable for educators to hear but youth have the right to be listened to.

A major component of engaging in politicized care involved fostering communal bonds in the form of a critical community (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017). This meant valuing and respecting Sa’Ryah by positioning her as a collaborator in planning STEM activities. Transitioning from e-textiles to electrical art required flexibility/adaptability in my planning approach while ensuring transparency/accountability about the STEM component. Politicized care was further exemplified through political clarity, as Sa’Ryah’s past relational dynamics with adults had shaped her current interactions with adults (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017). Initially perceiving adults in the Teen Center—including myself—as transient, Sa’Ryah eventually came to expect continuity in my presence.

Sa’Ryah’ also expressed that many people close to her did not know how to spell her name correctly. By acknowledging and correctly spelling her name, I demonstrated attentiveness and established rightful presence, affirming that her identity was respected and represented here (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020). Furthermore, space was always provided for Sa’Ryah to engage in critical conversations not limited to STEM-related topics. These instances illustrate politicized care by being developmentally appropriate by recognizing Sa’Ryah’s vulnerability regarding her name and providing opportunities for meaningful critical dialogue (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017).

Discussion/implications

From the Black Love framework, this study identified two foundational elements to foster meaningful engagement in informal community-based STEM programs: (1) youth involvement with STEM from planning to enactment and (2) sustained, critical relationships with educators. The framework calls for pedagogical approaches that humanize youth, affirm their identities, and attend to socio-political dimensions of learning (Adams 2020). Donovan and Sa’Ryah’s experiences reflect how the Black Love framework can be enacted in everyday practice. For Donovan this meant broadening the possibilities of what it means to code as a Black boy. For me this meant validating his ideas that he brought to coding, maintaining high expectations throughout his coding trajectory, and actively noticing his interests. Once Donovan realized that his interests could be integrated into his coding he was supported via JiT teaching which further engaged him and allowed him to be culturally “STEMulated” in his work.

For Sa’Ryah, the need for a sustained critical relationship with the educator played a large role in her STEM engagement. Her ability to voice disinterest in e-textiles and collaborate on new programming emphasized that her feelings, interests, and contributions mattered. This was represented by having her name appear in planning notes, spelled correctly and through shared conversations about the daily struggles of uncertainty during the Covid-19 pandemic.

While the Black Love framework offers a transformative vision for informal STEM learning, it also reveals limitations in existing research. The National Science Foundation (2020) and the Center for Advancement of Informal Science Education (now Reimagining Equity and Values in Informal STEM Education n.d.) have prioritized broadening participation in STEM, particularly for historically marginalized groups. Habig et al. (2021) argue that many informal STEM programs are designed to increase diversity but rarely attend to the underlying roles of race, power, and identity. This study echoes those critiques and extends them by foregrounding the pedagogical role of informal STEM educators.

Conclusion

This study surfaces the transformative potential of engaging youth in informal STEM learning through the lens of Black Love principles. By centering practices that restore, foster, and humanize Blackness within informal STEM programs, educators can validate diverse interests and identities that establishes a sense of rightful presence (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020) and politicized care (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017) that are crucial for educational freedom in STEM. The Black Love framework challenges traditional notions of STEM education by emphasizing the intertwined nature of STEM-related onto-epistemologies and critical relationality (Oliveras and Tucker-Raymond 2020). Integrating Black Love principles into informal STEM learning environments offers a powerful model for nurturing authentic educational spaces. By affirming youth identities, valuing personal interests, and prioritizing relational equity, educators can empower youth to thrive both academically and personally, while reshaping narratives around who belongs and succeeds in STEM fields.

As educators we bear the responsibility to not only deliver content but to create learning environments that respect and center the lived experiences of Black youth. This involves cultivating learning environments that value STEM-related onto-epistemologies and critical relationality focused on integration of youth voice and interest, in socially just ways (Evans and Leonard 2013; Farinde, Allen, and Lewis 2016). Frameworks like Black Love are essential as they shift the focus from solely academic performance to the holistic development of youth. As shared by Ashley, her teacher does not see her nor notice how she feels whereas Black Love directly counters this invisibility by creating conditions for deep connection and care.

Through this work, youth and I have co-created a learning environment where youth can not only thrive in STEM but also assert their rightful presence and advocate for their educational needs. The findings underscore the importance of critically sustaining educator–youth relationships and highlight the potential of non-traditional, informal STEM learning contexts. Within these environments youth collaborate, support each other, and feel empowered to voice their ideas and concerns. Moving forward, it is imperative that research continues to explore the pedagogical practices of informal STEM educators and their impacts on youth learning. The nuanced establishment of rightful presence (Calabrese Barton and Tan 2020) for historically excluded youth in STEM, as illuminated by the Black Love framework, offers insights into how politicized care (McKinney de Royston, Vakil, Nasir, Ross, Givens, and Holman 2017) can foster educational spaces where Black youth are not only included, but truly thrive.