Nestled behind his desk in Carnegie Hall, between scattered house plants and a color coordinated display of writing utensils to my left, I bore witness to what keeps students coming back to Professor Sean Diament time and time again: an unfiltered, personable nature. For Diament, a visiting assistant politics professor at Pomona College, the line between his expertise in politics and his life experience, in many ways, seamlessly blend.
Diament stands apart from many others, not just in appearance — his signature look is hard to miss, usually sporting a monochrome ensemble composed of a matching neon shirt, beanie and socks — but in the deeply personal nature of each of his classes. Throughout the semester, he slowly pulls back the layers of his own life, an act of vulnerability that brings the teaching of politics from the abstract to the concrete.
“I wear some colorful ass sweater, and I curse all the time, and my beard is large and gray, I’m cracking jokes. We’re having fun as we’re learning,” he said.
Born and raised by his mother in the multicultural neighborhood of Culver City, California, the foundation of Diament’s passion for politics was built through his lived experiences. Diament described his mother, who raised him alone, as dedicated and an extremely hard worker. But ample love was not fungible. By the age of 18, the pair had moved seven times, often the result of eviction. Despite this, he reflects on his upbringing positively. “I did have a good childhood. I was pretty happy.”
In middle school, after a gang shooting in front of his elementary school, his mother prioritized safety, moving him to a wealthy, predominately white beach town where he started middle school. This period of unexpected adversity proved fundamental to who Diament is today. Struggling to adapt to his new environment, the move soon cascaded into a series of absences from school, as well as a period of intense self-loathing.
“I was not in a position to hear anyone back then. I really hated myself, and I couldn’t fit in,” he recalled.
By high school, his feelings of low self-esteem, coupled with a poor school environment — one he compared to “glorified daycare” due to the lack of challenging material — made him feel completely detached from learning. The little school he did attend during this period was spent submerged in ceramics, a coveted hobby but far from the intellectual push he needed. “Had they given me a politics course or philosophy course, or, like, economics anything, I might have arrived to where I am now, a decade earlier.”
It was a combination of these factors that led then 16-year-old Diament to drop out of high school, a decision that contradictorily proved invaluable to his intellectual development. With an abundance of free time now readily available, boredom-induced curiosity soon transformed his relationship with knowledge.
“I am drinking Coca Cola … flat coke from a two-liter, you know, and you get so bored and have so little that something happens in the brain where, out of necessity, it unlocks,” he said.
Without the money for video games or the ability to leave his house, the world around him transformed. An artistic side was unlocked: He began painting, creating murals on his walls. His appreciation for the small things blossomed. Books became his entry into another world; he’d stay up all night on his balcony, submerged in texts by great thinkers.
“My mom would go to the Manhattan Beach library and bring back Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and a book on the Big Bang that was 900 pages, Richard Feynman’s lectures and Huey Newton’s Revolutionary Suicide, philosophy, physics, astronomy, politics,” he said. “And as a 16-year-old, I benefited from almost two years of just being home all the time … teaching myself shit and growing. It was an amazing privilege.”
Diament’s solo intellectual journey soon came to a halt when, while hanging out with some friends, he got caught in possession of marijuana. One of the stipulations required to get off probation was to get a high school diploma, a seemingly restorative sentence compared to the monetary penalty received by his friends.
17-year-old Diament was opposed, to say the least: “I told [the juvenile court judge], it’s cooked. It’s totally cooked. It’s not going to happen.”
Soon after, still on probation for possession of an illegal substance, he was faced with another challenge. Not yet 18, Diament, his mother and their cat became homeless as a result of what would be their final eviction. The pair became insomniacs, sleeping during the day in a storage unit to avoid getting thrown out and staying up through the night.
The first night, after loitering in a hotel lobby and a 24-hour Ralphs, Diament and his mother were forced to stay on the streets.
“It was extremely traumatizing, probably the most traumatizing experience of my life,” he recalled.
During this three-month period, he also developed an opioid addiction that he fought for 10 years, referring to himself as a functioning addict, permanently existing in a state he described as one in which he never really “[felt] awake.”
A break, although begrudgingly accepted, finally came. Diament got a job at the Taco Bell near his former high school. His mom resumed working, too. Shortly after, he took the GED test required of him to get off probation. His results showed not just intellectual promise but a future beyond the service industry, one where his mind was just as valuable as his physical labor. Perhaps most importantly, his impressive results gave him a sense of self-confidence wholly unknown to him.
“I [believed] in myself, for, like, the first time,” he said. “I already knew I had passions, but no real evidence that I was worth anything other than my labor. My labor is worth something.”
All the while, Diament dove into his innate interest in politics. In high school, this was through C-SPAN. Plagued by insomnia, he would put it on to lull him to sleep (a night routine that did, indeed, work). After long shifts at Taco Bell, he had it playing in the background as he journaled. He watched, entranced, as Bernie Sanders addressed Congress on universal healthcare, expertly weaving comparative and historical analysis. Soon, he was tuning in frequently for fun.
“[Sanders’ words] got in my brain, and I started feeling represented in politics. I saw there was someone who was fighting for something I care about. I caught some interest,” he said.
Still, it wasn’t until Diament returned to school that the extent of his interest in politics would be realized. Encouraged by the promising results of his GED test, he enrolled in El Camino College in Torrance, California, the community college he defined as his hometown’s “burnout wasteland.” Not for him. He loved it. Despite being able to graduate after a year, he stayed for three, leaning more and more into his passion for politics. He revived the El Camino College Political Science Club, where he organized voter registration drives and held debates.
It was there that Diament picked up what would later become a trademark to his own teaching style through his beloved ethics professor, Joan Thureson. “She was investing so heavily in me, it was personalized, it’s not everyone’s amazing, it’s not this blanket shit. She took the time to understand me, she built me up, she engaged me intellectually, told me I can amount to a lot of things, and really inspired me, incredibly.”
Following his time at El Camino College, he transferred to the University of California, Berkeley, where he continued his study of politics, graduating in 2012. Graduate school had never come to mind until, while helping two professors — T.J. Pempel and Eric Schickler — with research following his senior year at Berkeley, his mentors encouraged him to consider it. Not long after, he applied to schools, eventually enrolling at Northwestern University where his focus in politics narrowed to the politics of poverty.
This concentration, in many ways, reflected the arc of Diament’s life up until this point: the study of politics, a mirror of his life and his life, a mirror of politics — the two inextricably linked. Had his family known about food stamps, perhaps his mother would have had more spare cash. Had they known about Section 8 vouchers, perhaps the pair wouldn’t have moved as frequently during his childhood.
In many ways, it was Diament’s upbringing that brought him to teaching, too. After a period of volunteer and advocacy work in nonprofits and labor unions, he soon found himself student-teaching classes at Northwestern during graduate school. The financial security of a job as a professor was something entirely unknown to him, but a goal for which he ardently strove for. It was the relationships he’d form with students, though, that brought him back to the mentoring he received from Professor Thureson. This is what kept him going. “I didn’t realize I loved teaching until maybe my third semester of doing it, and then I really caught the bug,” he recalled.
All the while, as Diament attended and taught classes in graduate school, he tackled his decade-long opioid addiction. After a four-month journey in outpatient rehab just off-campus, he beat his addiction. Now fully awake and present-minded, he quickly set his sights on becoming a professor, a journey that has led him to teaching positions at Northwestern, Swarthmore College and now the politics department at Pomona.
Today, his teaching continues to reflect his personal experience — a key aspect of all his courses, including his seminar, Political Inequality in the U.S. This mélange of the personal with the political, combined with his genuine disposition, continues to make him a beloved member of the 5C community. It’s not just Diament who sees himself in his material, but his students, too, who catch a glimpse of themselves in the study of politics and in the personal experiences he shares.
The diversity of experiences held in the 5C community, he reminded me, is a reason to connect with those around you, one that extends well beyond him and remains a feat of the Claremont Colleges.
“You’d be surprised with all of the unique experiences that people have here. Within the community, we have a wealth of experience and knowledge. It’s a sight to behold.”
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