1. Responding to a Mental-Health Crisis
There is greater recognition today within higher education that we need to create learning environments conducive to helping students not just survive but thrive. Sarah Rose Cavanagh stresses the need for what she calls compassionate challenge. She reminds us that “compassion comes first,” yet we all need to stretch beyond what we think we are capable of, for our learning experiences to be transformative.
There is still work to be done to reduce the stigma surrounding help-seeking behaviors for students and faculty members alike. Rashida Crutchfield describes how “it is that fear and stress response, which has short- and long-term impacts on our physiology, that manifests in many different ways.” The challenges can be exacerbated when those affected come from underrepresented groups. Amira Barger shares, “Many people who are at the margins often know from lived experience that the playing field is not level and that there are biases that leaders and individuals across any and every institution have to mitigate.”
It isn’t just students who need a response to this crisis. Mays Imad offers a vital reminder that “we can’t give what we don’t have.” Many faculty members want to be active participants in shaping the environments where teaching and learning occur, yet face challenges with their own trauma, burnout, and mental-health concerns. Roxanne Donovan asks, “How do you walk the line between giving up your power but not ignoring the systemic and institutional forces that can make it hard for us to live the way that we want to?” Recognizing our limits and being willing to be vulnerable are essential to our well-being. Laura Horne explains, “Asking for help is a sign of strength, and it is necessary.” While there is still a long way to go, I am thankful that the conversation has opened up to the extent that it has, and that there are many institutions working to support mental health on their campuses.
2. Rethinking Pedagogy Amid a Pandemic and AI Advances
It is no wonder that burnout and exhaustion are such pressing issues for those in higher education. “People are in a state of despair,” Laura Czerniewicz laments. It doesn’t surprise me that the most downloaded episode of all time was about teaching effectively with Zoom, as vast numbers of faculty members worldwide in 2020 grappled with how to respond to the relentless outbreaks of Covid and exhaustion from the constant context shifting. In November 2022, ChatGPT was released, extending the calls for faculty members to add even more to their workloads. James Lang depicts how “GenAI exploded into our lives so quickly that it occupied our attention and stoked all of our worst anxieties.”
Between a global pandemic and the seemingly endless AI-adoption expansion, it can feel as if we have nothing left in our familiar teaching approaches that will be effective in today’s contexts. I am thankful for people like James Lang, who makes a case for slow-walking in deciding how we might respond to AI. Adaira Landry and Resa Lewiss advocate for MicroSkills, reminding us that small actions can have a significant impact. “Higher ed will take as much as you give it,” Rebecca Pope-Ruark warns. Taking time to reflect on our values, talk about them with others, and seek to take small steps toward more effective pedagogical approaches have become more essential than ever in the past 10 years.
3. Reflecting Critically Toward Hope and Action
This last change is certainly not new. Yet I have observed an opening-up of how it is possible to engage with others in envisioning other ways to embody deeply held values and work toward a common good. Small actions, performed in solidarity with others, can have a transformative effect. Laura Czerniewicz describes the sufficiency of those steps. She reveals how these “little moments of glimmers of innovation, not in the business sense of the word, but in the imaginative sense of the word, are good enough.”
Hope alone is insufficient. It must be combined with action to make any sort of difference. “Because I have hope, I cannot abide by the status quo because I know what could be, not just what should be,” Kevin Gannon asserts. He states it even more simply by telling us that “hope is embodied in practice.”
Ten years is a long time to do anything. That I have been able to spend more than a decade producing a podcast episode each week surprises even me. These conversations have been joyously infectious and transformative. I look forward to our forthcoming Teaching in Higher Ed Story Caravan, where we invite people to share their stories about teaching and learning, and to help us celebrate this milestone. In the meantime, another episode is in the queue for next week. I invite you to listen and find ways to amplify your hope through action.
Bonni Stachowiak is the producer and host of the Teaching in Higher Ed podcast and the dean of teaching and learning at Vanguard University of Southern California.
Balance and boundaries
Recently I shared one professor’s approach to leading a more balanced life, and asked for yours. Liz Norell, associate director of instructional support at the University of Mississippi’s Center for Excellence in Teaching and Learning, wrote in to share how her system has evolved since taking her current position last July.
“I moved into this role in our teaching center after more than a decade of adjuncting and six years on the tenure track at a community college — all of which saw me working WAY more than I was contractually obligated to do,” Norell wrote. “Especially at the community college, there was no end to the ways I could be of service to students and the institution, and I delighted in the work. When I was denied tenure, I was told, among other things, that I ‘cared too much’ about students … basically, that I was overinvolved in trying to help them be successful. That made no sense to me, but then nothing of the tenure-denial situation made much sense to me.
“Losing that job left me absolutely bereft. It is not an exaggeration to say that I had become so identified with my job that I didn’t quite know who I was without it. During my work-out year, while I was job-hunting, I used up about 270 hours of sick leave I had accumulated — basically by taking two days a week off to try to restore some sense of self during that entire last year. And when I started at UM, I committed (with encouragement by my boss, Josh Eyler) to keeping track of my time in a spreadsheet and ensuring that I worked only 40 hours a week. I will occasionally work more, but I keep track of how much more, and flex my hours in the weeks following to adjust.
“I never liked keeping track of my time before, because it felt forced and somewhat arbitrary. Doing it for myself now feels liberating. Work stays at work in a way it hadn’t for me in two decades or more. I now recommend my burning-out/burned-out academic friends all do this, even if it’s just to see how much they’re actually working and reflecting on it. I know it has really opened my eyes to how poorly I established and held boundaries on my time previously, and has given me a way to tangibly see how I’m doing now.”
Out of office
Another response came from Sharon D. Breidt, director of nursing at Keene State College, who said that she has given herself permission to take a break from email when she is on vacation. Breidt shared her out-of-office message:
I will be on vacation July 22-24 and returning Thursday July 25. In order to rejuvenate, and practice the self-care I teach, I will not be checking email during this time and look forward to replying to you upon my return.
Reflecting on her approach, she added: “It is so important for us to take the time to refill our glasses. The other benefit is, it is important for us to focus on the people we care about who support us in our daily work — for me, it’s my husband. Joe deserves to have my full attention during vacation!”
Have you tried tracking your time, as Norell describes? I’d love to hear about it. Do you have an out-of-office message you’re fond of — and do you really abide by it when you’re off work? The question of how to find balance has resonated with our readers, and I am still interested in hearing examples of other approaches, too. Share your experience with me at beckie.supiano@chronicle.com, and it may be included in a future issue of the newsletter.
Thanks for reading Teaching. If you have suggestions or ideas, please feel free to email us at beth.mcmurtrie@chronicle.com or beckie.supiano@chronicle.com.
—Beckie
As always, nonsubscribers who register for a free Chronicle account can read two articles a month. Your readership supports our journalism.
Learn more about our Teaching newsletter, including how to contact us, at the Teaching newsletter archive page.
