At the time, few platforms recognized the excellence and brilliance of women, especially women of color, in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.

We saw this void, not just as an oversight, but as a disservice to our nation, our industries, and our future.

Our mission was bold but clear: to amplify the stories, achievements, and aspirations of women who had too often been marginalized or overlooked.

We wanted to spotlight not just their presence in STEM fields but also their leadership, innovation, and undeniable impact.

We created a space where Black, Latina, Asian, Indigenous, and all women of color could see themselves reflected in power, prestige, and purpose.

At the time, some questioned why I, a man, would spearhead such an effort. The answer was and remains deeply personal.

I am the son of a woman who sacrificed and persevered. I am the husband of a brilliant woman who has inspired me at every stage of our lives together. And I am the father of a daughter who deserves the same rights, respect, and recognition as any man.

Creating this conference was not about me. It was about them, and all the women whose potential was stifled not by a lack of talent, but by a lack of opportunity.

I have always believed—and I still believe—that our society is stronger, wiser, and more innovative when every voice is heard and every person is given the chance to contribute fully. Diversity is not an initiative; it is a necessity.

Over the years, the Women of Color STEM Conference has grown into more than just an event. It has become a movement.

We've witnessed hundreds of women walk across our stages to receive honors for groundbreaking achievements in aerospace, biotechnology, cybersecurity, engineering, and so many other fields.

We've seen companies align themselves with our mission, proudly nominating their employees and showcasing their commitment to equity and excellence.

But today, I am sounding an alarm. We are in a moment of reckoning. It is open season on the rights of women, rights that generations before us fought tooth and nail to secure.

From the classroom to the boardroom, from access to education to decisions about healthcare, the autonomy and dignity of women are under assault.

I see it every day in headlines, in policy decisions, and—perhaps most dishearteningly—in the quiet withdrawal of support from institutions that once stood beside us.

Companies that previously championed diversity, equity, and inclusion are now distancing themselves from these values.

Some are pulling funding from initiatives like ours because they fear being associated with the term “DEI.”

Let me be clear: Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion are not political slogans. They are moral imperatives. They are the foundation upon which just and innovative societies are built.

It breaks my heart to witness this retreat. Not because we need their validation, but because their absence represents a betrayal—not just of this conference, but of the women they once claimed to support.

We must not let this disillusionment take root. We must confront it with truth, with courage, and with unshakable resolve.

I remain committed. I will not waver because the need is greater now than it was three decades ago.

In a world where technological advances are reshaping industries, where artificial intelligence is redefining work, and where climate change demands bold scientific solutions, we cannot afford to leave talent on the sidelines.

And yet, when we marginalize women, especially women of color, that is precisely what we do.

We are at a crossroads. One path leads us backward—toward exclusion, inequity, and silence.

The other demands that we press forward—louder, prouder, and more united than ever before.

The Women of Color STEM Conference will always choose the latter.

To every woman reading this—especially those who have ever felt invisible, undervalued, or underestimated—I say this with deep conviction: You belong. Your ideas matter. Your leadership is essential. Your presence transforms not only industries but also generations. And you are not alone.

Your words are not enough. Your actions must match your values.

Champion women not just on International Women’s Day or during heritage months such as Native American Heritage Month, Black History Month, Hispanic Heritage Month, Jewish American Heritage Month, or Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, but in your hiring practices, leadership pipelines, investment strategies, and community engagement.

We cannot simply hope for progress. We must make it—deliberately, unapologetically, and collaboratively.

Our daughters and their daughters are watching. They are measuring our words against our deeds. Let us not fail them.

As we look to the future, I hold on to hope.

Not a passive, abstract hope, but a fierce and focused hope—the kind born from 30 years of stories, of success, of shared struggle and triumph.

I think of the young girl who attended one of our youth panels and later returned as an award-winning engineer.

I think of the mother who brought her teenage daughter to our awards gala and saw in those honorees a vision of what her daughter could become.

These are the moments that sustain me. They are reminders that our work is not in vain.

They are proof that when we believe in the power of women, when we invest in them, celebrate them, and learn from them, we all rise.

So I will continue to stand, speak, and build, because this is not just about equity in STEM. It’s about equity, period.

It’s about a world where no woman has to fight for what should be hers by right. A world where diversity is not debated but embraced. A world where opportunity is truly equal.

And I will continue to fight for that world—with you, for you, and because of you.

In strength and solidarity,

Tyrone D. Taborn, Founder, Women of Color STEM Conference