written by: Kellye Smith
Though I am terrified of heights, I have always felt safe on elevators. Maybe this comfort comes from the fact that my dad is a general contractor and has built dozens of massive buildings, each one with many elevators; maybe it’s the safety of the four walls; or maybe it is from the relaxing music that can often be heard inside. Regardless, I am happy to take an elevator to whatever destination lies above me.
In my life, I have been taken to many new heights through the power of education. When I was a child, I went to a rural elementary school that had limited resources. Before finishing elementary school, my family relocated to a small city that made it feel like the world was at my fingertips. I partook in educationally stimulating and enriching experiences provided by my public school and the community. I found role models that changed my life forever and led me to pursue an undergraduate education at an out-of-state school. While an undergrad, I deepened my understanding and passion for becoming an educator and took that knowledge into an 11-year career as a teacher. From colleagues, school leaders, and, most importantly, my students, I learned the importance of relationships and dedication. Each one of these experiences lifted me and helped shape me into the person who applied for full-time graduate school in student affairs at the age of 33 in 2021.
I fully anticipated graduate school to be challenging. Having not been a student for more than a decade, I knew I would have to adjust to the workload and demands on my schedule. What I did not expect was the feeling of social isolation that came with my program and the toll that would take on me mentally and emotionally. My cohort was made up primarily of people no more than two years out of their undergrad and the few people with a little more life under their belts still felt far removed from my stage of life and experiences. I researched how millennials could best work with Gen-Zers, confident that there had to be a way to relate to them, but I did not have much success. I found our first year together to be grueling. I loved all that was I learning but found myself dreading the walk to class knowing it meant two and a half hours with people who seemed to be bringing me down when I was so accustomed to being lifted by those around me. I gained weight, grey hairs, and an uncharacteristically sour attitude by the end of our second semester together and was thankful to have the summer to recalibrate.
As we returned for the fall of our second, and final, year in the program, I was deep in the middle of a job search. By the second week of classes, I had two offers and knew I would be taking one of them. I needed to seriously consider dropping to part-time enrollment, which would result in delaying my graduation by a semester and having to pay my own tuition. Through all of this stress, I could not help but see the silver lining; dropping to part-time meant less time with my classmates whom I had blamed for so much of my rough transition into graduate school. I talked it over with my advisor, family, and mentors then confidently dropped two of my four classes that semester.
I immediately felt lighter. After I announced the news to my classmates of my new full-time employment, they cheered for me and congratulated me saying things like “you are a queen” and “truly iconic!” Could this praise be coming from the people I had grown so resentful toward? Each time I came to class, they were so happy to see me. They were genuinely curious about my new position and happy to collaborate on projects and presentations. They were lifting my spirits, enthusiasm, and drive to finish.
Christopher Emdin, in his book Ratchetdemic: Reimagining Academic Success, talks about elevators being one type of person educators will encounter throughout their lives and careers. He writes,
The elevator is an individual or a group of people whose goal is to challenge you to see from a different vantage point than you have been trained to. Their challenge to you may come in the form of statements that question your credibility to teach or lead, challenge your patience, or disrupt your comfort. Buttons will be pushed. The most important thing about elevators is that the challenges they give you, however degrading to your ego, are wrapped in love and a desire for you to be better. (Emdin, 2021, p. 107)
My classmates have served as elevators in my life whether they intended to or not, I just could not see it until I accepted their invitation to be lifted higher.
They shared deeply personal insights into identities I was otherwise unfamiliar with. They grappled with hard conversations and heavy feedback. They worked hard, played hard, and found joy in a difficult season of life. Their lived experiences were different from mine and that’s where their ultimate lifting power came from. Because of them, I see things from a fresh and higher perspective, one that is more inclusive, curious, and accepting.
Through all of this, I cannot say I would do much of it differently, because that may have resulted in a less transformative experience. However, I do have some advice for others encountering a similar situation.
To those of you who will teach these disconnected students: find a way to utilize the expertise they have already gained and let them share. I assure you; they want to! I went from having my own classroom for 11 years to being a student again all in a moment, and it was really hard. Every opportunity I had to present or participate felt like a gift from my old life coming back to remind me, “Kellye, you’ve still got it!” Lift these students by valuing them as whole professionals who have bravely entered a new space.
To those of you who will be classmates to these seemingly confident, but nervous students: find a way to include them. When they invite you for lunch, accept the invitation. If they do not invite you to lunch, you do the inviting! They don’t need to be in your social circle but they would like to be seen and known and they desperately want to know you. You can lift simply by being inclusive, friendly, and welcoming, even if they seem like they have got it all together.
To those of you considering becoming this student: DO IT! Get on the elevator! You cannot know what heights await you unless you step up. Find ways to get involved. Go to office hours. See what opportunities exist on your campus for graduate students from other programs who are in a stage of life. Rely on your existing network of people while humbling yourself to let others into that space. Lift yourself and let those around you lift you even higher.
Educators can stand in the elevator and be proud of themselves for just getting in, or they can allow the elevator to take them to the top floor where they can witness and be in a place of light. It may have been a challenge to get to the elevator but that challenge is fruitless unless you decide to get your buttons pushed and withstand some discomfort. This is part of the process of an elevator taking you higher. Listen to your elevators.” (Emdin, 2021, p. 108)
Reference
Emdin, C. (2021). Ratchetdemic: Reimagining academic success. Beacon Press.
About the Author
Kellye Smith (she/her) is the middle school academic advisor at Stanford University Online High School. She will graduate with her master’s in student affairs from Clemson University this December. She lives with her husband and their three children in the upstate of South Carolina and has a love for board games, chips and salsa, and anything brightly colored!