Category: Volume 22, Issue 2

In this article, I invite readers to explore the intersection of spirituality and professionalism within the context of residential life supervision in higher education. As a Pentecostal and a first-year graduate student in the Higher Education master’s program, I serve as the Assistant Residence Director for Coolidge Hall, where I work closely with a vibrant and diverse student population, including students of color, first-generation/low-income students, and international students. In this role, I navigate complex situations such as crisis response, conduct processes, and identity-based harm, all while striving to remain grounded in my spiritual values. These responsibilities often present moments of tension between my personal faith and professional expectations, particularly when addressing topics like gender identity, alcohol and drug use, and end-of-life issues that invite reflection on how to harmonize spiritual convictions with inclusive, student-centered practice.

Drawing from my experiences, I reflect on the challenges and opportunities of integrating spiritual identity with the professional responsibility to foster inclusive and equitable environments. Navigating diverse identities requires a commitment to authenticity, an embrace of cultural humility, and an understanding of intersectionality’s influence on personal and professional interactions. Through real-life examples, I highlight strategies for balancing personal faith with institutional expectations, fostering mutual respect, and promoting inclusive practices. I examine these dynamics and contribute to ongoing conversations about creating holistic and supportive environments for students and staff in higher education. My experiences offer insights and lessons that I hope will resonate with others navigating similar paths.

Professional and Spiritual Intersections

In my role in residence life, I handle student conflicts, provide emotional support, and create an inclusive community. At times, I face challenges that test my spiritual beliefs, such as handling difficult student situations, making tough decisions, and balancing personal faith with professional responsibilities. In my role as Assistant Residence Director, I quickly realized that my spirituality could both enrich and complicate my professional life.

Residential Life is a space where students bring their full selves, including their beliefs, values, and struggles. Supervising student staff and supporting residents required me to reflect deeply on how to harmonize my spiritual identity with the need to foster an inclusive and equitable environment for all. Balancing my role as a graduate student and a Residential Life supervisor has been both rewarding and challenging, particularly when considering how my spiritual beliefs intersect with my professional responsibilities.

Growing up in the Pentecostal tradition, my faith has always been central to my identity. It informs how I approach challenges by encouraging perseverance through prayer, scripture, and spiritual reflection, especially during moments of uncertainty or adversity. It shapes the way I treat others by grounding me in compassion, humility, and a commitment to servant leadership. In decision-making, my faith provides an ethical framework guided by discernment, integrity, and a deep sense of purpose transcending personal gain. These spiritual principles often intersect with my professional role, guiding how I support students, resolve conflict, and foster inclusive communities while remaining mindful of institutional boundaries.

For instance, when dealing with difficult situations, I rely on patience and a positive attitude rather than reacting with frustration. In my interactions, I practice kindness by offering a listening ear and support, whether it is a struggling student or a colleague facing difficulties. Honesty and fairness also guide my decisions, ensuring that I treat everyone equally, even when it is not the easiest choice. These principles help me create a welcoming and respectful environment for both students and staff in residential life.

I recall one experience that stood out as an example of these intersections. During a staff training session, a discussion about supporting residents’ mental health brought up differing views on the role of spirituality in coping. Some staff members shared stories of how their faith helped them navigate difficult periods in their lives, highlighting the deeply personal role spirituality can play in fostering resilience. However, others expressed discomfort with religious discussions in professional settings, often due to concerns about inclusivity, boundaries, and the potential for proselytizing. For some, this discomfort stemmed from past experiences where religious conversations felt exclusionary or misaligned with their own beliefs or identities. Additionally, the fear of crossing professional lines, especially in diverse teams with varying worldviews, contributed to a cautious approach toward engaging in or endorsing religious expression in the workplace.

As someone who believes deeply in the power of faith but also respects the diverse beliefs of my staff, I found myself navigating a fine line. I contributed to the conversation by emphasizing the importance of recognizing each person’s unique sources of strength, whether spiritual or otherwise, while ensuring that no one felt excluded or marginalized. This moment highlighted a significant challenge: maintaining authenticity while respecting diverse perspectives.

My faith teaches me to approach every interaction with love and understanding, yet I’ve had to be mindful of not imposing my beliefs on others. There have been times I’ve wanted to share words of encouragement rooted in my faith but chose instead to use more neutral language to ensure my message was inclusive. Balancing these considerations requires constant self-reflection and a commitment to creating a space where everyone feels valued.

Despite the challenges, I have experienced moments of success that reaffirm the value of integrating spirituality and professionalism. One such instance occurred when I held a one-on-one meeting with a resident assistant who was struggling with isolation and self-doubt. I refrained from referencing my faith but drew upon its principles of compassion and active listening to create a supportive space for them to share their concerns. At the end of our conversation, the staff member thanked me, saying that they felt heard and encouraged for the first time in weeks. This feedback reinforced my belief that the values underpinning my spirituality, kindness, empathy, and a commitment to service are essential to my work as a Residential Life supervisor.

Another moment of success came during a community-building event where residents were invited to share their cultural and spiritual traditions. I had the opportunity to share my own background, framing it in a way that celebrated diversity and invited others to do the same. This event fostered connection and mutual respect among participants, reminding me that authenticity, when approached with humility and openness, can be a powerful tool for building inclusive communities.

Working in higher education which prioritizes inclusivity and respect, requires careful direction-finding of personal beliefs and professional expectations. This dual responsibility raises important questions: How can professionals like me remain authentic in our faith while fostering an environment where all feel welcomed and valued? How do we address moments when personal convictions might conflict with institutional policies or community norms? This topic is timely and relevant because higher education professionals are increasingly called to engage with students and colleagues from various cultural, religious, and spiritual backgrounds. By examining how spirituality and professionalism can coexist, we contribute to creating inclusive, respectful, and authentic campus communities.

Navigating Spirituality and Professionalism: The Challenges

Navigating the intersection of spirituality and professionalism is a nuanced journey, especially within the context of Residential Life in higher education. As someone who values faith deeply, I found balancing personal values with institutional expectations to be both rewarding and challenging. Institutions often champion inclusivity and neutrality, yet this sometimes feels at odds with expressing one’s spiritual beliefs authentically. The tension between staying true to my values while upholding policies to create equitable spaces requires reflection and adaptability.

Conflicts arising from differing religious or spiritual beliefs are another challenge I’ve encountered. Supervising a diverse team of resident assistants means respecting their unique identities while maintaining professionalism. At times, navigating conversations about spirituality feels like walking a tightrope, as differing beliefs can create misunderstanding or discomfort if not handled with cultural humility and empathy. To navigate these conversations effectively, I approach them with intentionality, creating spaces where team members feel safe to express their beliefs without fear of judgment. I encourage open dialogue during staff meetings and one-on-ones, using reflective questions that allow team members to explore how their values intersect with their professional roles.

I also emphasize the importance of active listening, empathy, and curiosity over assumption. When tensions or misunderstandings arise, I guide the team in revisiting shared community agreements, such as respect, inclusivity, and care, to foster mutual understanding. By modeling vulnerability and authenticity in my own leadership, I invite others to do the same, building a culture where spirituality and professionalism are not seen as opposites but as complementary parts of our shared humanity.

One of the strategies I employ is rooted in the phenomenological principles of epoche and eidetic vision. Epoche, the act of bracketing one’s assumptions and biases, allows me to temporarily set aside my own spiritual framework in order to truly listen and understand the perspectives of others without judgment. This creates space for authentic dialogue, especially when working with a diverse team of student leaders. Eidetic vision, the pursuit of the essential meaning or universal structures of an experience, further guides my efforts to identify the deeper, shared human values that underlie different spiritual expressions such as the desire for purpose, connection, and compassion. With my team, I facilitate reflective conversations that invite individuals to explore how their own beliefs inform their leadership while encouraging awareness of the pluralistic context in which we work. This approach not only cultivates empathy but also promotes a professional ethos that honors both spiritual authenticity and inclusive practice.

Recently, I have trained resident assistants to manage emerging conflicts by fostering open dialogues. We conduct trainings on cultural humility, encouraging staff to recognize their biases and approach discussions with empathy. Inclusive dialogues on college campuses or in residence halls can promote mutual understanding and reduce religious conflicts (Small & Bowman, 2012). One instance involved two roommates who had differing religious views. One student placed religious statues and incense in the shared space, while the other felt uncomfortable with those items. To address the issue, I facilitated a mediation where each student shared their perspective. I emphasized active listening, respect, and compromise. The solution was to designate personal spaces within the room for religious items while keeping the common areas neutral. This approach ensured that both students felt respected in their beliefs while maintaining a shared living space that was inclusive for both. These experiences highlight the importance of open dialogue and structured policies in resolving religious conflicts in residential life (Patel & Meyer, 2019).

Avoiding perceived favoritism or bias in decision-making processes is also a critical focus. When a team member shares a faith similar to mine, I am mindful of not allowing personal connections to influence professional decisions. Maintaining fairness and transparency has been vital in ensuring equity.

Finally, addressing microaggressions or resistance when expressing religious identity has tested my resilience. One time, a colleague questioned why I prayed before meals, saying, “You don’t have to do that here.” I felt uncomfortable but calmly explained that prayer is an important part of my faith. Another time, during a team discussion, someone assumed that because I am religious, I would not support certain social issues. I felt misunderstood but responded by sharing that my faith teaches me to respect and support all people. Assumptions about my spirituality can be discouraging, yet I’ve learned to respond with patience and grace, focusing on fostering understanding.

I recall during a team discussion on programming ideas, someone assumed that because I am religious, I would not support LGBTQ+ initiatives. That assumption stung. In that moment, I felt both misrepresented and reduced to a stereotype. I responded by sharing that my faith teaches me not only personal conviction but also radical compassion and the importance of affirming the dignity of all people. These experiences were significant; they revealed how easily spiritual identity can be misunderstood or dismissed. I’ve learned that navigating such moments requires self-awareness, courage, and empathy. Rather than retreating, I strive to respond with patience and clarity, using these opportunities to foster understanding. These moments deepened my commitment to showing up as a professional who also lives a life of faith, and to helping create inclusive environments where diverse identities are respected and valued.

Contextualizing Spirituality in Higher Education

Spirituality and religion, while often interconnected, are distinct concepts that significantly shape personal identity. Spirituality generally refers to an individual’s personal search for meaning, purpose, and connection, often expressed through values, reflection, or a sense of transcendence  (Astin et al., 2011), whereas religion is typically associated with organized systems of beliefs, practices, rituals, and community aligned with a specific faith tradition (Koenig, 2008; Koenig et al., 2012). In the context of residential life supervision, acknowledging these differences is essential, as some individuals may identify as spiritual without affiliating with a formal religion, and vice versa. Recognizing and honoring this complexity helps create inclusive spaces that support holistic development.

Spirituality and religion play integral roles in shaping personal identity. Spirituality is recognized as an essential component of holistic growth, influencing personal identity, ethics, and community engagement (Astin et al., 2011). For many, these aspects of life provide a sense of purpose, belonging, and resilience amidst the challenges of academic and professional pursuits Students often arrive on campus during critical periods of self-discovery, bringing with them diverse spiritual and religious perspectives that influence their values, decisions, and interactions. These elements of students’ lives are particularly significant in residential life supervision, where professionals navigate students’ diverse spiritual expressions while maintaining inclusive communities.

Students enter college with varying levels of spiritual engagement, and many experience shifts in their spiritual identities throughout their academic journey (Bryant et al., 2003). Some encounter spiritual struggles due to exposure to new worldviews, competing ideologies, or personal crises (Bryant & Astin, 2008). Residential life professionals play a critical role in supporting students during these transitions, creating spaces for spiritual exploration while ensuring that no single perspective dominates the community (Mayhew, 2004). Interfaith engagement is one approach that fosters mutual understanding and cooperation among students of different religious and spiritual backgrounds (Patel, 2007; Mayhew & Rockenbach, 2021). Institutions that prioritize interfaith initiatives contribute to students’ overall development, equipping them with skills to engage in meaningful dialogues across differences (Patel & Meyer, 2009).

Given the increasing religious diversity on college campuses, higher education professionals must consider spirituality in student affairs policies and practices (Cherry et al., 2001). Literature suggests that a balanced approach acknowledging students’ spiritual needs while upholding professional boundaries is crucial for fostering an inclusive campus climate (Small & Bowman, 2012). As residential life supervisors navigate these complexities, they must integrate ethical leadership, cultural competence, and policy. Institutional policies and cultural norms regarding religious expression can either foster inclusivity or create barriers (Patel & Meyer, 2009). Policies that prioritize religious accommodation, such as flexible scheduling for religious observances, prayer spaces, and interfaith dialogues, demonstrate a commitment to inclusivity (Mayhew & Rockenbach, 2021). When institutions fail to address the nuances of spiritual diversity, they risk alienating individuals whose beliefs do not align with dominant cultural norms (Small & Bowman, 2012).

Understanding intersectionality and practicing cultural humility are important in creating spaces where different spiritual identities can be respected and supported (Love, 2001). For me, intersectionality means recognizing that my spirituality is not separate from other parts of my identity, such as my background, culture, and personal experiences. Growing up in Ghana, spirituality was a core part of daily life. It influenced how people made decisions, interacted with others, and approached education. However, when I started working in higher education in the U.S., I realized that spirituality was often treated as something private, not to be openly discussed in professional spaces.

Through my experiences in residential life supervision, I have met students and colleagues whose religious beliefs shape their values and actions, just like mine do. I have also seen situations where students struggle to balance their faith with university expectations. This is where cultural humility becomes important. I cannot assume I understand someone’s religious experiences just because I have my own. Instead, I must keep learning, listening, and reflecting.

Lessons Learned

One experience that shaped my understanding of navigating spirituality in residence life was working with a student who felt isolated because of their religious beliefs. They were afraid to express their faith openly for fear of being judged. By creating space for honest conversations and showing respect for their beliefs, I helped them feel more included. These moments remind me that higher education should not force students to separate their spirituality from their professional or academic lives. Instead, we should create an environment where all aspects of identity including religion are valued and respected. By embracing these principles, higher education institutions can honor the rich diversity of spiritual identities within their communities, ultimately fostering an inclusive and supportive environment for growth and learning.

I have experienced profound growth and transformation, both personally and professionally. One of the most significant lessons I learned is the importance of authenticity. Navigating the dual identities of being a graduate student and a supervisor can be challenging, but embracing my true self values and spirituality has been key to building trust and credibility with staff and residents.

Another vital insight is the power of active listening. In the diverse and vibrant environment of Residential Life, every voice matters. By creating space for others to share their perspectives without fear of judgment, I have fostered an inclusive atmosphere that encourages collaboration and mutual respect. This approach has also helped me mediate conflicts more effectively and build a cohesive team dynamic.

Adaptability has also been a crucial lesson. Working in Residential Life demands the ability to handle unexpected challenges, from managing crises to addressing interpersonal issues among staff. Through these experiences, I have learned to remain composed under pressure and to view every obstacle as an opportunity for growth.

These lessons have significantly shaped my supervisory style. I strive to lead with empathy, balancing compassion with accountability. My interactions with staff and residents are grounded in the belief that people thrive in environments where they feel seen, heard, and valued. These experiences have enriched my professional journey and helped me understand the transformative impact of Residential Life on the broader higher education experience.

Strategies and Recommendations

Navigating the intersection of spirituality and professionalism in higher education requires intentionality and thoughtful strategies. These practical approaches have proven effective:

Self-Reflection and Identity Awareness: Understanding and articulating your spiritual and professional identities begins with self-reflection. Take time to explore your core beliefs, values, and how they shape your approach to supervision. Journaling, mindfulness practices, or engaging in dialogue with trusted peers can clarify how spirituality informs your leadership style.

Cultural Competence: Invest in learning about diverse religious and spiritual perspectives to create an environment where everyone feels seen and valued. Engage in active listening, ask open-ended questions, and remain curious rather than judgmental. This approach builds and promotes understanding.

Boundary Setting: Balancing authenticity with professionalism requires clear boundaries. Identify areas where your spiritual identity might overlap with your work and establish limits that respect policies and individuals. Transparency can help maintain trust and mutual respect.

Mentorship and Support: Seek mentors or colleagues who share similar experiences or can provide objective feedback. Their guidance can help you navigate challenging situations with confidence and perspective. Peer support also fosters shared learning and solidarity.

Educational Opportunities: Advocate for workshops or discussions that explore the relationship between faith and professionalism. Such initiatives can normalize conversations around spirituality, reduce stigma, and cultivate a culture of mutual respect in residential life.

Discussion Questions

1. How can higher education professionals effectively balance their spiritual beliefs with the responsibility to create inclusive spaces that respect the diverse identities?
2. What institutional policies or practices could better support staff and students in navigating the intersection of spirituality and professionalism within the residential life context?
3. How can supervisors and staff in higher education develop cultural humility and competence to engage with students and colleagues across spiritual, religious, and non-religious identities to foster mutual understanding, respect, and inclusive practice?
4. How can higher education professionals engage in conversations about spirituality and religious expression in ways that includes those who do not identify as spiritual or religious, ensuring that all perspectives are valued and respected?

Author Bio

Festus Cobena Ainoo (he/him/his) is a graduate student in the Higher Education M.Ed. program at the University of Massachusetts Amherst and the Assistant Residence Director for Coolidge Hall. His research focuses on spirituality in higher education, intergroup dialogue, sense of belonging, and equity-centered approaches to student success for underrepresented students.

References

Astin, A. W., Astin, H. S., & Lindholm, J. A. (2011). Cultivating the spirit: How college can enhance students’ inner lives. Jossey-Bass.

Bryant, A. N., & Astin, H. S. (2008). The correlates of spiritual struggle during the college years. Journal of Higher Education, 79(1), 1–28.

Bryant, A. N., Choi, J. Y., & Yasuno, M. (2003). Understanding the religious and spiritual dimensions of students’ lives in the first year of college. Journal of College Student Development, 44, 723–746.

Cherry, C., DeBerg, B. A., & Porterfield, A. (2001). Religion on campus. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press.

Koenig, H. G., King, D. E., & Carson, V. B. (2012). Handbook of religion and health (2nd ed., pp. 15–34). Oxford University Press.

Koenig, H. G. (2008). Concerns about measuring “spirituality” in research. The Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, 196(5), 349–355. https://doi.org/10.1097/NMD.0b013e31816ff796

Love, P. (2001). Spirituality and student development: Theoretical connections and policy implications. New Directions for Student Services, 2001(95), 7–16. https://doi.org/10.1002/ss.16

Mayhew, M. J., & Rockenbach, A. N. (2021). Interfaith Learning and Development. Journal of College and Character, 22(1), 1–12. https://doi.org/10.1080/2194587X.2020.1860778

Mayhew, M. J. (2004). Exploring the essence of spirituality: A phenomenological study of eight students with eight different worldviews. NASPA Journal, 41, 647–674.

Patel, E. (2007). Religious diversity and cooperation on campus. Journal of College and Character, 9(2), 1–8.

Patel E., & Meyer, C. (2009). Engaging Religious Diversity on Campus: The Role of Interfaith Leadership. Journal of College and Character, 10:7, https://doi.org/10.2202/1940-1639.1436

Small, J. L., & Bowman, N. A. (2012). Religious Affiliation and College Student Development: A Literature Review and Synthesis. Religion & Education, 39(1), 64–75. https://doi.org/10.1080/15507394.2012.648586

Introduction: The Challenge of Food Insecurity

Food insecurity, defined as the lack of consistent access to sufficient and nutritious food in a socially acceptable way, is a growing concern on college campuses across the United States. While national statistics often highlight the impact of food insecurity on families and younger students, an increasing number of college students also face challenges in accessing adequate food due to rising tuition costs, limited financial aid, and higher living expenses (Adams et al., 2020). College students from low-income backgrounds, first-generation students, and students of color are particularly at risk of experiencing food insecurity.

Research has shown that food insecurity among college students can significantly impact academic performance, retention rates, and overall well-being. Students dealing with food insecurity often report higher levels of stress, anxiety, and difficulties in concentrating on academic tasks (Hobbs & King, 2018). Addressing this issue on college campuses is not only a matter of equity but also a critical factor in promoting student success and retention. By ensuring that students have reliable access to nutritious food, institutions can help reduce stress and improve academic outcomes.

As higher education institutions continue to promote diversity and inclusion, addressing food insecurity becomes an essential aspect of supporting underrepresented students. The establishment of campus-based food programs, such as food pantries, meal vouchers, and financial literacy workshops, can serve as effective interventions to mitigate the impact of food insecurity. In response to similar challenges faced by middle school students, a program, Hunger Heroes, was developed to address food insecurity by educating youth and reducing stigma surrounding food assistance programs. By adapting this model, colleges can create effective interventions to support food-insecure students on campus.

The Middle School Model: Hunger Heroes

The Hunger Heroes program was designed to empower middle school students to understand and address food insecurity within their communities. Rooted in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, the program aimed to ensure that students’ basic physiological needs were met so they could focus on higher-order goals, such as academic achievement and personal development.

Middle School Context

1. Education & Awareness: Students learned about food insecurity through classroom discussions and activities that highlighted economic and social factors influencing access to food (Adams et al., 2020).
2. Destigmatization Efforts: By engaging students in conversations about free and reduced lunch programs, the initiative worked to reduce the negative perceptions associated with food assistance (Randolph & Prejean-Harris, 2017).
3. Community Engagement: The program encouraged students to participate in local food drives and advocacy efforts, fostering a sense of responsibility and agency (Reich et al., 2015).
4. Survey & Data Collection: A needs assessment helped identify the extent of food insecurity within the student population and informed program adjustments (Hackett et al., 2008).

 

The overall purpose of the program is to address food insecurity at middle-school student levels to reduce the ripple effects food insecurity causes later in their development. By increasing awareness of economic and social factors influencing food access, reducing stigma associated with food assistance programs, and encouraging student participation in advocacy efforts, institutions can create a culture of support and inclusivity. Conducting regular needs assessments allows for data-driven improvements, ensuring that food insecurity interventions remain relevant and effective. Ultimately, the goal is to mitigate the long-term consequences of food insecurity, empowering students to focus on their academic and personal growth without the burden of food insecurity hindering their success.

Applying the Model to a College Setting

Adapting the Hunger Heroes model to higher education requires consideration of the unique challenges college students face. Research has shown that food insecurity is associated with mental health problems and lower academic performance among college students (Tseng et al., 2017). While younger students rely on parental support and school-provided meals, college students must navigate financial independence, unpredictable work schedules, and limited access to food assistance programs (Nord, 2007).

Key Recommendations for College-Based Interventions

College campuses have a responsibility to ensure the safety and success of their students. Through different departments and partnership, there are several options universities and institutions can facilitate to address food insecurity across their campuses. Marketing these resources to ensure delivery means that offices need to work together to make the most effective campaigns.

1. On-Campus Food Pantries & Meal Swipe Programs

To combat food insecurity among college students, institutions must take a comprehensive approach that addresses both immediate needs and long-term solutions. One of the most effective ways to do this is by establishing an on-campus food pantries and meal swipe programs. Many colleges have successfully implemented food pantries stocked with non-perishable, nutritious items to support students in need (Feed the Children, 2018). Additionally, meal swipe sharing programs allow students to donate their unused meal credits, ensuring their peers have access to proper nutrition (Boston Medical Center, 2017). These initiatives provide an essential safety net for students struggling to afford meals.

2. Educational Campaigns to Reduce Stigma

Beyond providing food access, colleges should focus on educational campaigns to reduce stigma. Many students experiencing food insecurity hesitate to seek help doe to fear of judgement or social stigma (Poole-Di Salvo et al., 2016). Hosting workshops and awareness events normalizes discussions about food insecurity, helping students recognize that seeking assistance is not a sign of failure but a step toward self-sufficiency (Shankar et al., 2017). Including food insecurity education in first-year orientation programs could further ensure that students know about available resources from the start.

3. Needs Assessment & Data Collection

To develop targeted interventions, institutions must engage in needs assessment and data collection. Conducting surveys can provide valuable insights into the extent of food insecurity on campus and help tailor support programs accordingly (Goodman, 1997). Collaborating with faculty, student organizations, and community partners can strengthen outreach efforts and ensure that at-risk students receive the support that they need (Nord et al., 2014).

4. Financial Assistance & SNAP Enrollment Support

Financial assistance and SNAP enrollment support is another area where students can be supported. Many students qualify for the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) but they are unaware of their eligibility (DeSilver, 2023). By offering guidance on how to apply for benefits, colleges can connect students to essential financial resources. Advocacy for policy changes that expand eligibility criteria for college students can also help increase participation in food assistance programs (New York State Office of Temporary and Disability Assistance, 2023).

5. Peer Support & Community Engagement

Fostering peer support and community engagement can further enhance the effectiveness of campus food insecurity initiatives. Student-led groups dedicated to raising awareness and organizing food drives create a culture of mutual support (Poppendieck, 2010). Partnering with local organizations and grocery stores to provide food vouchers or discounts ensures that students have additional access to affordable and nutritious food (Ireland et al., 2022). Encouraging students to take an active role in these initiatives not only benefits those facing food insecurity but also strengthens the overall campus community.

A multifaceted approach that includes food pantries, educational campaigns, data collection, financial support, and peer engagement can make a significant difference in reducing food insecurity on college campuses. By addressing short-term needs with long-term solutions, institutions can create sustainable support systems that ensure every student has access to the nourishment they need to thrive academically and personally.

Guide for Practitioners: Developing a Campus-Based Food Security Program

Practitioners interested in launching a campus food security initiative can follow these key steps:

1. Conduct a survey or host focus groups to gauge food insecurity levels on campus (Goodman, 1997).
2. Collaborate with campus administration, local nonprofits, and businesses for funding and food donations (Feed the Children, 2018).
3. Implement a combination of education, direct food support, and policy advocacy (Reich et al., 2015).
4. Collect data on program effectiveness and make necessary adjustments (Hackett et al., 2008).
5. Create long-term plans to ensure continued support, including student leadership transitions and institutional backing (Sabi et al., 2019).

Developing a food security program requires collaboration, planning, and a commitment to addressing student needs. By assessing the issue, securing resources, and implementing multi-faceted strategies, institutions can make a lasting impact on student well-being. Continuous evaluation and expansion will ensure that such initiatives remain effective and evolve to meet the changing needs of the student body.

Conclusion

By modifying the successful Hunger Heroes program to fit the college landscape, institutions can provide meaningful support to food-insecure students. Addressing this issue not only improves student well-being but also enhances academic success and overall campus equity. Colleges must take proactive steps to ensure that no student must choose between their education and their next meal.

Author Biography

Jake Czaplicki (he/him/his). I am a Graduate Student at Clemson University located in Clemson, SC. Currently, I serve as a Graduate Community Director within Clemson Home. I am originally from Syracuse, NY and received my Bachelors from SUNY Oswego in Oswego, NY in December of 2023.

References

Adams, E., Caccavale, L., Smith, D., & Be, M. (2020). Food insecurity, the home food environment, and parent feeding practices in the era of COVID-19. Obesity. 28(11), 2056-63. https://doi.org/10.1002/oby.22996

Boston Medical Center in the Area of Child Psychology and Psychiatry Reported (Association of Food Insecurity with Children’s Behavioral, Emotional, and Academic Outcomes: A Systematic Review). (2017). Pediatrics Week. 597.

DeSilver, D. (2023). What the data says about food stamps in the U.S. Pew Research Center. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2023/07/19/what-the-data-says-about-foodstamps-in-the-u-s/

Feed the Children. 2018. Hunger facts and figures. https://www.feedthechildren.org/ourwork/hunger-facts/

Goodman, R. (1997). The strengths and difficulties questionnaire: A research note. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry. (38)5, 581-86. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.14697610.1997.tb01545.x

Hackett, M., Melgar-Quiñonez, H., Pérez-Escamilla, M. & Maria Segall-Corrêa, A. (2008). Gender of respondent does not affect the psychometric properties of the Brazilian Household Food Security Scale. International Journal of Epidemiology, 37(4), 766–74. https://doi.org/10.1093/ije/dyn084

Hobbs, S., King, C. The unequal impact of food insecurity on cognitive and behavioral outcomes among 5-year-old urban children. (2018). Journal of Nutrition Education and Behavior. 50(7), 687-94. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jneb.2018.04.003

Ireland, M., Bryant, L., Finders, J., Duncan, R., Purpura, D. & Schmitt, S. (2022). Examining associations between food insecurity, inhibitory control, and body mass index in preschoolers. Journal of Developmental & Behavioral Pediatrics. 43(4), 255-62. https://doi.org.10.1097/DBP.0000000000001014

New York State Office of Temporary and Disability Assistance. (2023). Temporary Assistance Year to Year Monthly Comparison Cases, Recipients and Expenditures. https://otda.ny.gov/resources/caseload/2023/2023-06-stats.pdf

Nord, M. (2007). Characteristics of low-income households with very low food security: An analysis of the USDA GPRA food security indicator. USDA-ERS Economic Information Bulletin (25).

Nord, M., Coleman-Jensen, A. & Gregory, C. (2014). Prevalence of US food insecurity is related to changes in unemployment, inflation and the price of food. United States Department of Agriculture.

Poole-Di Salvo, E., Silver, R. & Stein, R. (2016). Household food insecurity and mental health problems among adolescents: What do parents report? Maternal and Adolescent Mental Health.16(1), 90-6. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.acap.2015.08.005

Poppendieck, J. (2010). Free for all: fixing school food in America. University of California Press.

Randolph, J. J., & Prejean-Harris, R. (2017). The negative consequences of using percent of free and reduced lunch as a measure of poverty in schools: The case of the state of Georgia. Child Indicators Research. 10(2), 461-471. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12187-016-9391-1

Reich, S. M., Kay, J. S., & Lin, G. C. (2015). Nourishing a Partnership to Improve Middle School Lunch Options: A Community-Based Participatory Research Project. Family and Community Health, 38(1), 77–86. https://doi.org/10.1097/FCH.0000000000000055

Sabi, S., Kolanisi, U., Siweli, M. & Naidoo, D. (2019). Students’ vulnerability and perceptions of food insecurity at the university of KwaZulu-Natal. South African Journal of Clinical Nutrition. 33(4), https://doi.org/10.1080/16070658.2019.1600249

Shankar, P., Chung, R. & Frank, D. (2017). Association of food insecurity with children’s behavioral, emotional, and academic outcomes: a systematic review. (2016). Journal of Developmental & Behavioral Pediatrics. 38(2), 135-50.

Tseng, K., Park, S., Shearston, J., Lee, L., Weitzman, M. (2017).  Parental psychological distress and family food insecurity: Sad dads in hungry homes. Journal of Developmental & Behavioral Pediatrics. 38(8), 611-18. https://doi.org/10.1097/DBP.0000000000000481

Generalists. We hear that word often working in student affairs, specifically in residential life. It is one of the reasons I believed in and still do that work. Residential life is a great jumping off point for young student affairs professionals who are uncertain about their career path after completing graduate school. Working in residential life gives you skills such as crisis management, conflict resolution, teamwork, facilities management, event planning, supervision, and budgeting. These are skills you can bring to any field, in or out of higher education. It’s true what they say about wearing multiple hats when you work in student affairs, and residential life is no exception. The various skills you learn in residential life can come in handy no matter what hat you choose to wear.

Like many in the field, I began my path in student affairs as a resident assistant in undergrad and was later guided by a mentor who introduced me to the hall director role as a career opportunity. I went to graduate school where I pivoted and worked in academic affairs, and it was there that I realized how much I missed working in residential life. I missed the crisis, the energy, and the powerful student interactions that often come with working in a residence hall. So when it came time to job search, I exclusively looked for jobs in residential life. Since working professionally in residential life for the last seven years, I have collected many metaphorical hats: COVID response team hat, supervisor hat, lamp builder hat (that story is for another time). My most recent hat is one that may seem a little out of the ordinary for residential life. I have started wearing my food pantry coordinator hat.

A New Hat

While there are over 700 food pantries on college campuses (https://www.nea.org/nea-today/all-news-articles/hunger-campuses-growing-problem), most are run by basic needs offices or the dining hall or community action offices but often feature collaborations with other offices on campus. I took on our campus food pantry in the summer of 2022. At that time, we did not have a physical location on campus to operate out of. Instead, we had a mobile pantry model where one day every month or two, we would receive donations from a food bank and find a space on campus (sometimes a large room, other times the parking lot, and still other times the sidewalks of a quad) and hand out the food to community members. Since putting a food pantry hat into my rotation, I have come to learn and appreciate the power of being a generalist in the field of student affairs.

Event Planning

Pizza parties. That’s probably the answer when asked what people outside the field think people in residential life do. And in some respects, yes. We do have pizza at our parties aka our programs. What college student doesn’t like pizza? Programming was a skill I never imagined would help me run a food pantry but it’s been an invaluable asset. Each month, we host a mobile food pantry. That day can be compared to a program or event planning. We need to book the space each time, set up, advertise (via flyers and announcements each month), connect with attendees, and sign people in.

Organization and Cleaning

Organizing our pantry started well before we opened. Even what we would call the resources had a variety of implications. When I was considering a name for our pantry, I struggled between including the word pantry in the wording. In the end, I decided against it and instead subbed the work Market for the word pantry. One reason was to help our community understand that sometimes we do carry non-pantry items but another reason was to remove any stigma as to what visiting a pantry can imply. I knew I wanted our campus pantry to be fun, inviting, and open.

My experience in residential life seamlessly informed creating a welcoming space. I was able to connect with students and staff and get to know them. As a result, when we have mobile pantries it’s always a fun environment. We try to keep things light by doing things like speed tours of our Market on social media to connect with students. Additionally, Instagram is one of the biggest ways shoppers hear about and stay in touch with us. I wanted people coming to the Market to feel like they were simply grocery shopping. In surveys to our shoppers, the most common phrase used to describe us and our volunteers was welcoming, friendly, and kind. One shopper wrote “they always say hi and ask how we are doing”. I knew I wanted the pantry to be an extension of a community and hosting programs and connecting with students as a hall director has helped me tremendously in accomplishing this goal.

Another skill from residential life to running a food pantry is keeping a clean space. Raise your hand if your RA office is clean and organized? Probably not many hands can go up. That is because it is difficult to keep a space clean when others have access to the space too. We opened our permanent pantry in the lobby of one of our residence halls in 2023 and with that came many lessons learned. One of which was no matter how organized I may be, I need to plan for others as well. The pantry opened and at one point we had staff members who had access and student volunteers with access. I knew it was not realistic just for me to have the sole key to the pantry as I could not always be available to unlock it for someone but allowing so much access meant someone (usually me) needed to be more on top of the mess that inevitably follows. However, being a hall director for four years prior and managing an RA office that at times 15 people had access to (including summer orientation staff who did not work for residential life) meant I had to come up with a system to keep things somewhat tidy and neat.

Transferable Skills

If you are considering making a leap out of residential life or just thinking about your next move, but you’re nervous about being pigeonholed into a specific career, I highly encourage you to take a moment to sit down and really think about what you have learned working in student affairs. I am not saying it will be a perfect transition into a new field or that everything you learn working in student affairs will lend perfectly into any new job. What I am saying is that if you really take the time to inventory your skills and how they may or may not be relevant to the new field you are considering, you will be doing yourself a favor. By inventorying what skills you can take from student affairs, you see what skills you have and can bring but more importantly, you see what skills you lack. This is very powerful to realize now because you can leverage the time you have in your current job to acquire those skills. Use your the job you have today to gain skills you need tomorrow.

If you have a supportive team and supervisor then this will be easy. Talk to your supervisor and mentors and maybe even some trusted colleagues about your goals and the things you would like to learn or experiences you would like to get. Develop a plan to achieve those goals. On the other hand, if you do not have a supportive team, you can still build skills and experiences. There are tons of online (and often free) resources for professional development. For example, I used LinkedIn Learning and Coursera when I was interested in learning more about Excel.

Another strategy you can utilize is to start job searching. Even if you are simply considering something different, take the time now to look at what employers want and need. Compare what they are looking for against your current resume. What skills transfer over? Doing a “soft search” or even just reviewing job postings on a regular basis can not only help you fill gaps in your experience, but this practice can make you aware of positions that are out there. There could be opportunities you didn’t even know existed that may pique your interest.

We often can be our own worst critic, so I recommend talking to someone to help you identify your transferable skills. If you are comfortable with this, some institutions allow staff to use their career center. This same resource we refer students to can also be helpful to us. Whether it is career services, a trusted peer or mentor, or a family member, talk to someone who can look at your skills from the outside and give you feedback on where you excel and where you can grow. If you have a connection in the field or job you are looking at, reach out to them to see what they see as important skills to have. Allow them to inventory your resume and see what someone in that field sees when they look at your resume and use that feedback to tailor your resume to the job.

Here is a summary of what I mentioned above:

• Inventory yourself and your skills: What have you learned in your role? Consider skills like conflict resolution, crisis management, program/event planning, supervision and advisement, budgeting and planning, communication, and advocacy.
• Look at job descriptions: Look at jobs that interest you or ones you may be considering. What do they ask for? How does your current experience align with what they are asking for? Where are the gaps?
• Feedback is key: Ask a colleague, mentor, or even career services to help you review and critique your resume and skills from an outsider’s perspective.
• Build your skills intentionally: Use resources available to you like LinkedIn Learning or Coursera to grow in areas you may be lacking in such as Excel, assessment, or project management.

Conclusion

People joke that I run a non-profit on top of my actual job and in many ways, it is true. I manage the campus food pantry, host an annual campus thrift store program, and I help run a thrift shop that is free for the local community on Saturdays. Never in a million years would I think I would do any of those things, let alone be fairly good at them.

But looking back, student affairs/residential life prepared me for these roles and side projects without me even knowing about it. I took the people skills, organizational skills, programming skills, and community building skills I gained from residential life and applied them to projects I both enjoy, but I also have these skills for potential job opportunities in the future. As you can see, the generalist foundation we obtain from working in student affairs equips us and allows us to do far more than we can imagine. So no matter what hat you put on next, just know that the skills you have gained will come along with you on your next chapter.

Author Bio

Wen Xi Piombino (she/her) is Assistant Director of Residential Life at Pace University in Pleasantville, New York. She started her student affairs career as a resident assistant at the University of Georgia, then she moved graduated with her master’s in counseling education from Clemson University. Wen started at Pace University in 2018 as a residence director before transitioning to her current role. Wen lives on campus with her husband Anthony and their dog, Jax.

Introduction

For many prospective graduate students, a live-in assistantship is a great opportunity – providing housing, financial relief, and professional development. However, for those with a spouse or partner, the experience of moving on-campus can come with unique challenges. Balancing academic responsibilities, job expectations, and your personal wellbeing is already difficult, but doing so in a living space shared with students. adds elements that are both enriching and demanding. You want to be a good worker, a good student, a good person, and a good partner.

This piece explores the realities of graduate students navigating the demands of residence life alongside a live-in partner. Establishing boundaries, supporting each other as you adjust to the new space while you fulfill your role, and navigating time constraints are a few of the challenges to come. Through my lived experience, we’ll examine the benefits, struggles, and discuss strategies that help couples survive and thrive in this setting.

Role of a Graduate Student in Residence Life

Graduate Assistants (GAs) play a crucial role in the day-to-day operations of their communities. Working between 20-25 hours a week, sometimes more depending on crisis response issues, facilities concerns, or busy times during move-in and move-out, GAs focus on community development, supervision and staff development, administrative duties, and crisis and on-call response. What has been the largest parts of my experience as a GA is training and supervising undergraduate staff, serving as on-call crisis responder for mental health concerns, conflicts, and emergencies, and assisting in day-to-day residence hall operations. There is a lot that can fill the 25 hours and sometimes days and weeks look entirely different from each other.

A big part of being a GA is your role as a graduate student. Classes, whether in-person or online, can be long and demanding. While it is the primary reason we are on campus, classes can oftentimes feel less important than our assistantship work. Outside of class, a lot of our time is filled with assistantship work. It can be difficult to carve out the proper amount of time to do your readings, writing assignments, and other duties for your degree.

In totality, the life of a GA can be taxing. Work all day, go to class in the evening, study/read at night, and maybe find time for selfcare. This alone can be a lot to handle, but if you have a live-in partner there’s an added stress to “show up” at home. All of this goes on at the same time as life. A life you are sharing with another person.

Impact on Partner or Spouse

Before I jump into the impact on a partner or spouse, I would like to provide some background on my specific situation. My wife Taylee and I were married in 2022 and lived together an entire year before moving on-campus for my live-in graduate position in 2023. We rented a three-bedroom, one-bathroom house. As you can imagine, the amenities were great: in-unit laundry, space, a dishwasher, space, parking right outside our front door, SPACE, etc. We loved where we lived and would not have left if this current opportunity did not come up.

We moved from our house into a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment. I won’t lie, it was a nice apartment. It was, however, an adjustment moving back onto a college campus. The two of us had both recently lived on-campus as undergraduate students, so we didn’t put much thought into what it would be like to go back.

It’s a weird position to be in: you live on a campus because your partner or spouse has a job there. Odds are you live in the community where your partner works. Housing professionals use the phrase “living in a bubble” to describe a feeling of always being watched – by residents, by facilities staff, and so on. There’s a sense of anxiety around knowing you can never turn off completely.

This also exists for your partner. When I asked my wife Taylee about her experience, she spoke about imposter syndrome and how it feels weird to be a plus one at home. I am the one who coordinates maintenance requests, does laundry, and works with the housing department for anything related to our space. This is for no other reason than that I know who to reach out to for quick results. While helpful, Taylee feels a disconnect from decisions being made.

Benefits and Opportunities

Living and working on-campus is amazing. Economically alone it is worth all that comes with it. Every month two paychecks hit, and nothing leaves for rent or utilities. There is also the added benefit of not commuting to work. Additionally, you come in with a cohort and have a sort of built-in community. Thankfully for us, we have found that community amongst my cohort members and friends Taylee has made at work.

There are lots of advantages to the short commute to work when living on-campus. You do not have to find a parking spot or spend a lot on gas going to and from work. You can sleep in longer than if you had a drive to get to the office. Another aspect of being in such close proximity how quickly you can run home if there is ever an emergency.

A benefit that I feel often gets overlooked is access to campus maintenance. Whenever anything breaks in the apartment, I will put in a maintenance ticket and within a few hours I have someone in my apartment fixing the problem. From a clogged drain to a bug infestation, facilities staff show up for anything.

Connecting with others in a new place can be difficult and scary. Thankfully when living with a partner, you have someone with you, but the two of you still need a sense of belonging wherever you go. Other housing grads can help with this transition. As far as the social aspect, we both get along great with the other grads in my program. One thing that we did not expect when moving on-campus was the community that came with it. The day we moved there were other housing grads looking to connect. We ended up not being the only married couple either. Thankfully, we found our community on campus.

Challenges

The move from a house to an on-campus apartment in a residential community was difficult. It was tough to lose the privacy, space, and quiet of our house and move back onto a college campus. While the benefits and opportunities presented to us were incredible, there were still growing pains while we adjusted to our new space. The biggest piece of advice we can give is, protect your time when you are not working. This was my first time working for residence life. Having never worked a live-in position or supervised staff, there was a large adjustment period for me.

My first month was training for myself, then the next two weeks were spent training my staff. After that our housing team jumped directly into move-in. Directly after move-in, classes start. There are days when you will wake up and go to work, class, and then work more after class – all the while still needing to be a good partner. So much of your time will be dedicated to your work and degree. Take the down time when it comes. If it is not urgent and important, it can wait. Setting boundaries, the same way we encourage our residents to do, is important in navigating a space comfortably.

I set hard boundaries with my staff early on about after-hours work. I want to make sure that home feels like home and my wife is never put in an awkward position. My team has been receptive to respecting our privacy by not calling after hours or knocking on our door. It is very important to set expectations early. Unfortunately, situations are going to arise with noisy neighbors. How to handle it should be a conversation with you and your partner. Taylee and I decided that I would knock on doors and communicate, since community management is part of my job. We also interact with our neighbors as little as possible. I’m pretty sure that our current neighbors don’t even know who I am (that was our goal). However, that may look different couple to couple.

Not every graduate apartment is created equally. Our first apartment was giant with a double vanity. Our new apartment has a smaller bathroom and kitchen space. Another fact to consider is who lives in the building with you. Do you live close to your supervisor? How about your RA staff? How close is your living space to your office? Is your apartment on a floor with residents or is it separate? Is there someone living above you who likes bouncing a basketball? Do resident know how to find your apartment? All of this could create trouble separating work and your home life.

Communication with your partner is paramount. Taylee has my schedule, and I put everything on it from class, work hours, meetings, social events, and on-call shifts. It is important to us that she know when I am going to be away so that she can plan to do other things. It can be an isolating feeling living on a campus because of your partner’s work. We try to combat this by overcommunicating and budgeting out time to show up for each other.

If work-life balance really exists, being a graduate student working in residence life is the furthest thing from it. You work your days, go to class in the evenings, do schoolwork at night, and repeat. Sprinkle in week and weekend on-call shifts and after hours work commitments like staff meetings and there goes your time. Showing up as a worker, a student, and a partner can feel impossible at times. But there are some strategies I can recommend in the next section.

Advice

So, how do you make it work? Again, this is informed by personality, communication, and every relationship is different. Still, there are three essential bits of advice I cannot stress enough: find out the needs of your partner, know who is on your team, and think ahead about your summer.

Find out what your partner needs!

Whether it is a parking spot or a dog or anything else, ask what your partner needs and attempt to negotiate for it. There’s no guarantee you’ll get everything (or anything), but it goes a long way if you can advocate for your partner early on and on an ongoing basis. Taylee and I did not think ahead enough about what we could do to make her comfortable in this new living situation. For example, we did not realize until after moving in how tricky it is to get a pet. If we had started the process when I accepted the position in February, we would have had a dog with us by the time we moved in in July.

Know who is on your team!

When I left for the summer to work as the Orientation Intern for TCU, the Director of Housing made sure the move would be taken care of for Taylee. The way it is usually done for grads being moved over the summer did not work for us, as Taylee was still living at Clemson. Having the Director there to help was huge for us. When we had major maintenance issues in our apartment, the Director again stepped in and worked to find a solution for us. Knowing and utilizing the people who are willing to advocate for you is essential to making life better on-campus.

Think ahead about your summer!

Being a graduate student on a 10-month contract, I needed to find work for the two months I was not employed by Clemson Home. I chose NODA. This meant I would be leaving for two months to work at another institution, and Taylee would be staying behind so she could continue working. Now thankfully, the Director of Clemson Home worked very hard to accommodate our situation and was able to move us directly from our first-year apartment to my new community’s apartment. The biggest issue was, I would not be there for the move. I did what I could to pack up anything and everything she would not use while I was gone to help, but that doesn’t change the fact that a lot of the packing and the actual stress of the move was on Taylee. This is something to keep in mind for graduate students with a live-in partner. You may leave for a summer internship and your partner may not be able to come. This is a conversation that should happen before the start of a program, not during.

Conclusion

Taylee and I came into this situation as ill-prepared as possible. Having no housing experience, we did not know the right questions to ask or the best ways to prepare. It took time, but the two of us managed to discover the best ways to support each other through this. This is just how it looks for us, it may look entirely different for you and your partner. Below are some discussion questions for you and your partner to help guide conversations about what the space will look like.

1. What does your partner need out of the space? (pet, parking spot, etc.)
2. Is the position 9-month, 10-month, or 12-month? What do you want out of the summer between first and second year? (ACUHO-I, NODA, etc.)
3. How are you going to support each other with the long work hours and classes?
4. How will you actively protect your time-off and what do boundaries look like with work?

Allen Geiger III (He/Him/His) is a second-year graduate student in the Masters of Student Affairs in Higher Education – Counselor Education at Clemson University with experience in Residence Life, Orientation, and Career Services. He is pursuing a career in housing after graduation. Additionally, he is grateful to his wife Taylee for making this article possible and looks forward to getting a dog with her ASAP.

 

(This is the second in a three-part series about the experiences in, transitions from, and connections sustained by graduate students.)

This is the second article in a three-part series exploring our graduate school experience. Our specific experience includes a cohort program model, mandatory graduate assistantships, a theory to practice curriculum, and faculty advisor mentorship. The first article explored our relationship with ourselves during the experience. We will begin by sharing personal anecdotes and conclude with prompts to guide your reflections.

When choosing a graduate school there are many factors informing why you end up where you do. Some of us chose programs based on financial aid (scholarships, stipends, and tuition remission). Others fore fronted curriculum and the utility of classes in our careers. Some chose based on the assistantships offered. Still others picked programs for  school or program reputation, cost, and the ability to put Master’s of Higher Education on our business cards.

However, what if the decision process centered around intangible experiences and potential relationships on the grad school journey? It makes sense that we would value our relationships across campus in higher education, where we continuously interact with students, staff, and faculty. Do we value how much these relationships change our perspectives and inform our work in graduate school?

As new professionals, the intangible elements of relationships we made in graduate school are the most influential factors in our personal and professional development. Although we appreciate the theoretical frameworks we learned, we attribute our professional advancement, self-growth, and practical and philosophical approaches in student affairs to the people we met. We will examine anecdotes about how relationships affected our graduate journeys and translated into our lives as new professionals. We specifically examine how our relationships with our cohort, the graduate school experience, and our support systems have been built, evolved, maintained, or lost while pursuing our degrees. We are grateful for the support and challenges these relationships brought us, as they made us stronger professionals and people.

Gabi

My graduate school experience was primarily shaped by two aspects: the assistantship and the cohort. Prior to beginning my higher education master’s degree journey, both elements felt risky, and I was worried that neither would be the right fit. Even in selecting a university and program, I was terrified I was making the wrong decision.

Fortunately, I listened to the invaluable advice of the network of mentors I formed after being a resident assistant. These housing professionals advised me to identify and focus on my “non-negotiable”. In other words, what was the single quality or characteristic that I needed from a program to ensure the experience was worth it? Upon reflection, I decided that my non-negotiable was my assistantship offer. Although I loved my residence life experience (which led me to this field to begin with) I knew I would derive the most value by expanding my skillset and broadening my understanding of student affairs.

After many interviews and offers from other universities, I selected Florida State because their assistantship offer was the only one I received outside of housing and residence life. Truthfully, I did not know what to expect. Besides this non-negotiable, the university did not rank much further up on my list for any other reason. Little did I know that this decision was one of the best that I would make in my academic and professional career.

My graduate assistantship was a wholly transformative experience. I am endlessly grateful that I ended up at the Center for Leadership and Service focused on development, organization, and execution of leadership programming. This allowed me to learn the fast-paced environment of program planning while cultivating my capacity and efficacy as a leader. My relationship with this assistantship changed over time, as my two years were separate experiences and responsibilities.

My first year, I experienced the “trial by fire” that is program planning in an understaffed office. While there were mistakes along the way, I quickly acquired skills in prioritization, time management, assessment, and coordination across the campus community. I learned to work with long term versus short term programs, and to organize group travel with a delegation of students (which I use in my current role). My second year, as the office became fully staffed, led to responsibilities being removed from my plate, which was relieving and frustrating. I was used to responsibilities falling on me, and when they did not, it was a difficult transition. Looking back, I learned flexibility and adaptability with new opportunities in my internship which led to my current position. My graduate assistantship was incredibly rewarding, and I would not be the professional I am today without these lessons.

Our group was amazing and formative in making my graduate school experience special. We challenged each other while lifting each other up in and out of class, inspiring interpersonal growth.  Ours was a group of amazing humans with our passions pointed in the same direction. Other connections in my assistantship and internship also helped me grow in the workplace as a more collaborative and open-minded professional.

Additionally, was the impact (and importance) of negative relationships. These were limited but surfaced throughout graduate school. Even though experiences with some individuals may be negative, these individuals can also encourage development even if it is uncomfortable and challenging.

As I worked through conflicts, I refined how I work with others, while also learning the importance of mentorship. I learned to define who is a mentor to me, and who is not. Knowing not every professional in my life is a mentor has continued to guide me in my full-time career. I learned to embrace meaningful work at my assistantship and the connections of my cohort, which fully prepared to work in higher education and student affairs.

Josh

It was the people who made my grad school experience what it was. Every space I was part of—work, class, or any random hallway chat—there was always a coworker, a cohort mate, or another student in the program, who helped me through tough times and made good moments better. One of the most impactful people was my research mentor, Dr. Lara Perez-Felkner. Being new to educational research, I was lucky to have her guidance. She didn’t just support me with research—she helped me call myself a researcher. She also had my back during the job search, which meant a lot.

One of the cool things about the Higher Ed master’s program at Florida State is that it runs alongside a doctoral program. That meant I worked with doctoral students on research and academic projects. I met Ravi Bhatt, a Ph.D. candidate at FSU during my first year, and we worked on articles around well-being and leadership development. We clicked academically, and we’re still writing and working together.

I can’t talk about grad school without mentioning the cohort which became my core support system. Before the program started, I’d only met a few of cohort members through our recruitment and assistantship interview weekend. Once we got to campus, it didn’t take long to feel like they’d be a significant part of my personal and professional journey. We took most classes together, and I could often tie the class learning experiences and insights my peers shared. Those relationships grounded everything I learned. We celebrated each other, went out for birthdays, attended events that we had planned for work, and provided support during the hard moments. I couldn’t imagine getting through two years in Tallahassee without them.

My graduate assistantship was where my student and professional worlds merged. I worked in FSU’s Center for Undergraduate Research and Academic Engagement and was one of the few people working directly with an undergrad research program. I took that responsibility seriously—I wanted to make sure everything ran smoothly and that I was holding up my end. The tricky part? Assistantships are only 20 hours a week, and that time goes by fast when you’re doing meaningful work. Students I worked with didn’t always realize that I wasn’t a full-time staff member, which could be confusing, but I saw that as a plus. Coming straight from undergrad, I could connect with them while also bringing a more professional lens to my work.

Outside of my assistantship, my experience at FSU was mostly good, despite a transition. FSU is a big, public, predominantly white institution—different from my undergrad experience. It took adjusting, but I eventually found my people and got involved in things that felt meaningful. Grad student government, the research training program, and campus events all played a part in helping me feel grounded. I’m grateful I had that experience. It gave me clarity on the kinds of institutions and environments I see myself working in moving forward.

Martin

The connections I’ve made throughout graduate school made my entire experience. Being a first-generation college student from a low-income background, I could not afford to spend time on resume builders. I was the first person in my entire family history to go to college. I spent my undergraduate experience working and adjusting to college. So, when applying for graduate school, I knew I wasn’t the best candidate on paper, but I was determined and had passion to work with and serve students.

All I needed was someone to take a chance on me and that person was Craig Filar in the Honors Department. He was looking for his first graduate assistant to help him lead the Presidential Scholars (a group of select scholarship recipients). Again, I knew I probably wasn’t the best candidate on paper, but during our interview he saw potential and looked past my application to bring me on to the team because of who I was as a person.

When I joined the team, the Presidential Scholars had this “start-up” vibe. I was the first graduate assistant, so the position was being created as I did the job. I am extremely grateful for Craig and this position, because this was exactly what I needed. I went from having limited experience to building skills on program management, classroom environment, administration, outreach, and professionalism. Later, Maddie Rodnite joined the team as an Associate Director, and I was happy to have such different but great leadership styles. They both allowed me space to learn and make mistakes without judgement. They allowed me to enhance the quality of the department and propose new ideas. The students in the program and I were deeply influenced by Craig and Maddie’s leadership.

However, the best part of my experience was the students. The Presidential Scholars always treated me with kindness and respect. They were understanding of my need to create boundaries. I enjoyed seeing them around campus and creating relationships with them. This program prepared me for my current job at the University of California, San Diego’s Data Science Department, which also has the same sort of “startup” vibe. I took what I learned at the Presidential Scholars and applied it to my new position.

Additionally, I couldn’t have been as successful in graduate school if not for my cohort. We shared similar experiences regardless of our roles on campus. When I needed someone they were there to lend a hand and offer support. There is something special about having a group of people who understand you or try and understand. This connection extended from our cohort to the doctoral students and faculty. I never felt a power dynamic in our program; we were all colleagues.

One doctoral student that I built a strong connection with was Derrick Pacheco. He represents exactly what the higher education program is about. I mentioned I wanted to do work around my Latine identity, and he asked me to be his TA for Latinx Leadership. Derrick and I became good friends. He shared his resources, brought me onto projects, and guided me through the higher education field. These days, I sit in a coffee shop and can’t help but look at the empty chairs in front of me and miss the days where my friends and I shared a laugh and were there for one another.

Savanna

If I had to sum up my graduate experience in one word, it would be: fun. I have always tried to embrace the silly things in life but graduate school solidified for me how important fun is in everything I do. One of my favorite Florida State memories is when my supervisor Kelly and I planned the most random/silly yet impactful event for the residential community I oversaw.

It began with the discovery that Dolly Parton’s birthday is January 19th, sparking a playful idea among our team: ‘Wouldn’t it be silly to create a Dolly-themed event?’ Kelly and I laughed thinking about turning Wildwood Hall into Dollywood and went down a rabbit hole looking at Dolly Parton themed decorations online. As we planned, what seemed like a whimsical idea evolved into something extraordinary and delightful—an experience that surpassed our expectations.

Our event melded entertainment with education, culminating in a unique wellness-themed celebration. By weaving facets of Dolly Parton’s life into wellness dimensions, we transformed what can be a challenging topic into a lively, engaging, and inclusive event. Through our innovative approach, we fostered space that facilitated open dialogue and encouraged participants to explore wellness in an unconventional manner. The success of the event lay not only in its creative execution but also in its ability to foster connections and promote holistic well-being. By harnessing the spirit of Dolly Parton’s resilience, generosity, and authenticity, we created an experience that resonated with attendees, leaving a lasting impact on their wellness perceptions.

Another experience that taught me the importance of having fun came from my second-year internship with Club Downunder (Florida State’s student programming board and concert venue). At this internship I worked high profile events and met a lot of cool people. One of Club Downunder’s signature programs is our “Golden Torch Lecture Series” where we bring celebrities and elite professionals in for a moderated lecture/interview about their life and work. One semester we brought in actor, singer, and songwriter Darren Criss (a big deal for me as a Gleek).

Payton (cohort mate/friend) and I got assigned the (arguably) most important task: picking up Darren’s dinner. While this involved venturing into College Town in Tallahassee on a Friday evening (if you know you know), I had never been more excited for a work assignment. We drove and parked as close as we could without driving into College Town. This was a great decision as streets were closed for a concert. We made it to the first restaurant with relative ease. We started to walk to the next restaurant and quickly realized two things: it was a way further walk than either of us remembered and we were short on time. We sprinted to the second restaurant, then all the way back to our car, and drove back as quickly (but safely) we could. To many this may sound like a bad experience, but Payton and I made it fun. The whole time we were laughing, talking about how excited we were to meet Darren, and fangirling over Glee. Yes, we were running around chaotically, but boy did we have fun doing it.

These memories—and many others—continue to shape how I show up in my professional life today. Recently, my coworkers and I took time to take silly group photos of our committee during downtime while getting departmental headshots. My time at Florida State taught me that fun isn’t just an add-on; it’s a vital part of creating meaningful, inclusive experiences. Embracing the silly has helped me build stronger communities, navigate challenges with creativity, and bring authenticity to everything I do. Whether it’s planning a quirky wellness event, sprinting across town with a dinner order, or laughing with coworkers during a break, I’ve learned that joy and connection are powerful tools in our work. For that, I’ll always be grateful.

Sydney

I applied to graduate school because I did not know what I wanted to do career-wise, but I knew I was good at school. I thought graduate school would give me the time and clarity I needed to figure out my future. This was a good idea theoretically, but while people tell you about the difficulty of graduate classes, experiencing it firsthand was challenging. Reflecting on the evolution of my graduate school academic identity, I think of impactful people in my journey inside the classroom. My faculty advisor, Dr. Tamara Bertrand-Jones served as a voice of reason, sounding board, and mom away from my mom. As a professor, she taught with a wealth of knowledge and demanded respect. In fact, she gave us a graduate-level pop quiz during our fifth week of school, so she meant business. Outside the classroom, she was well-respected in student affairs due to her intelligence, presence, and passion for research. It was an honor to learn from her. We would go out to lunch to discuss everything from school to my personal life. As I went through issues, she had the right advice and knew when to challenge me. I am grateful for the wisdom and kindness she shared with me. As a starting student, it is easy to be intimidated by faculty not knowing how to connect, but they are human and want to see you succeed. Building a relationship with my faculty advisor was critical to my success.

My cohort was another significant group of people in my journey. One of my main criteria for a graduate program was, “Which group of people can I take every class with for two years?”  You may want to befriend them beyond class, but in courses, you need cohort mates who will challenge you, contribute to group projects (because there are many), and be empathetic. As most of us and our professors can attest, our cohort brought entertaining yet thought-provoking conversations to our learning. We cultivated relationships with each other outside of class providing insight into our courses. I attribute my wealth of knowledge to my cohort mates discussing how their lived experiences impacted their student affairs work. It was a continuous cycle of learning and growing, and I appreciated having a cohort that invested in each other’s educational experience.

Our program required students to have a GA to apply what we learned in class to real life and share insights about which higher education issues apply to today’s students. My GA became more than a job to me; it was a test of time management, resilience, and passion. In addition to getting a degree, we worked hands-on 20 hours a week and completed internships to be competitive in the job market. Often, student affairs practitioners say there is no work-life balance, and as a graduate student, you see professionals without personal boundaries. I found myself “pouring from an empty cup” in school and work, where I had little time to care for myself. As a GA, I wish I saw more professionals model work-life balance, so I knew when to give myself grace. Fortunately, my GAs gave me strategies to a work-life balance. I am more intentional about prioritizing boundaries and personal health and wellness as a professional.

As a new professional, I hear others facing challenges such as increased workload, higher-stakes responsibilities, and establishing their professional identities. These adjustments were not as difficult for me because my supervisors entrusted me with many Coordinator-level responsibilities as GA, in addition to school.

My GA helped shape my professional identity as a confident new professional. I know what I want out of my job, and what I want students to gain from programs. Graduate school is hard for many reasons, but it gave me an accurate precursor to what full-time work is like. Graduate school made me face, understand, and reflect on how insecurities may impede success. These challenges bring opportunities for reflection on academic identity, definition of success, and recentering to make yourself a more well-rounded student, professional, and person.

Venus

Reflecting on graduate school, I’m drawn to one word: transformation. I was transformed through deeply personal, sometimes painful, always powerful evolution. Transformation happens when you’re constantly being asked to show up—as a scholar, a professional, and a whole human being. From the moment I started at FSU as an undergraduate to now, as a Ph.D. student still at Florida State, I have changed dramatically. The way I walk across campus, the relationships I lean on, and how I understand myself as student and educator—all of that has shifted.

Graduate school gave me theory and frameworks, but it also gave me people. And one of the most unexpected gifts was my cohort. I didn’t realize the value of the cohort model when I started my program—it was new to me. In my first year I overlooked it. I realize now how much I miss the bond we had. We weren’t a perfect found-family, and we didn’t always have it all together, but there was an unspoken understanding: when we needed support, it was freely given.

From venting in class about assistantship stress, to cramming in the little study room on the first floor of Stone, to the flood of congratulations as we landed jobs—those moments shaped my grad experience. And when things got hard—really hard—after others had graduated and I stayed on for my Ph.D., that care and connection continued. Even from afar, my cohort showed up. A simple check-in, a “thinking of you,” a message of support—it meant the world. During one of the toughest times on campus, their kindness grounded me. Despite everything happening in their lives and in the world, my cohort made space to show up for me.

That’s the thing about grad school: it’s not just about professional development or reading dense theory at 2:00 a.m. It’s about the people who hold you up when you’re too tired, too broken, or too overwhelmed to do it alone. My cohort has been that for me—sometimes quietly, sometimes fiercely. They’ve seen me at my most ambitious and my most exhausted, and they remind me: I belong here.

My relationship with my graduate assistantship was equally transformative. In my Housing and Residence Life role, I merged my academic interests with my passion for student support. I’m especially grateful to Stephanie, my supervisor, and Sarah, our Assistant Director. These two women have been models of the leadership I aspire to emulate—intentional, compassionate, and unapologetically supportive. Stephanie met me where I was, always finding a way to affirm my strengths while gently challenging me to stretch beyond them. Sarah leads with a presence that radiates clarity and care, seeing the bigger picture without losing sight of the individual stories that shape it. They poured into me as a staff member, but also as a human with dreams, doubts, and a desire to grow.

I’m still a doctoral student, not in a full-time professional role. That matters because there’s a strange in-betweenness as a grad student. You’re expected to mentor while still being mentored yourself. You’re writing papers on leadership while questioning your own. You’re advocating for students while learning to advocate for yourself. My experience taught me to lead while learning, to support others while figuring things out, and to exist in the space between student and professional. I’ve come to see that tension as a gift teaching me that growth doesn’t happen in clearly defined boxes—it happens in the messy middle.  It’s humbling. It’s weird. It’s wildly rewarding.

I’ve learned that growth doesn’t always come with fanfare. Sometimes it is crying in your advisor’s office. Sometimes it is showing up for students while carrying your own pain. And sometimes, it is finding strength in the people beside you who remind you why you started and accompany you as you figure out where you’re going.

Conclusion and Looking Ahead

This is just a small piece of our two years in the higher ed program. Some of these experiences might sound familiar, or maybe your path is different. That’s okay. Regardless, we hope this gives you a chance to think about people who’ve shaped, or will shape, your growth as a student, a professional, or just as a human navigating the wild ride of grad school.

As you plan, undertake, and/or reflect on your journey, we offer the following prompts:

• Who were impactful people during grad school?
• How did your relationship with them grow?
• Why were these relationships impactful to you?
• What was your relationship with your graduate assistantship and the school itself?
• How do you see the relationship show up or influence your full-time job now?
• How did you navigate your professional identity while being a student?

In the next article, we will share how the relationships with our support systems might have been maintained, sustained, changed, or strengthened.

 

Author Bios

Gabrielle Ulate (she/her/hers) is currently a Student Government Advisor at Oregon State University. Her passions include supporting students through developing their own identities as leaders, alongside being an advocate for those discovering their identities within transracial and multiracial communities.

Joshua Burns (he/him/his) is a Program Coordinator for Student Leadership Development at Kennesaw State University. His passions include serving underrepresented student populations and student leadership development.

Martin Saldana, Jr. (he/him/el) is currently a Program Coordinator and Academic Advisor at the University of California, San Diego. His passions include serving underrepresented student populations and is driven by his work to increase equity and inclusion.

Savanna Perry (she/her/hers) is currently a Resident Director at the University of California, Berkeley. Her passions include recruitment and retention of professional staff members, student leadership and development, and adapting to an ever-changing field. 

Sydney Pickett (she/her/hers) is a Coordinator for The Center for Leadership and Service at the University of North Texas – Denton. Her passions include working with students’ leadership and identity development, especially with students of color and other minoritized identities.

Venus Skowronski (she/her/hers) is a Graduate Coordinator for Housing and Residence Life and a Doctoral Student at Florida State University. Her passions include exploring the role of mentorship in career trajectories, supporting women in higher education, and advancing international education initiatives.

Artificial intelligence (AI) is swiftly altering the global employment landscape, with significant consequences for college students. As the world continues to adopt this disruptive technological innovation, it is important to state that this technology has had far-reaching impacts on every aspect of human life, changing how work is done and bringing to bear a new socio-economic reality.  I examine how AI is changing the employment landscape, taking into cognizance the opportunities AI offers to the modern job pool while also explaining the disruptions that the technology is instigating in the job market. As more sectors incorporate AI technology, the demand for specific skills such as data analytics, AI literacy, and problem-solving rises. While these disruptions are beginning to make certain professions that this technology has been found to make more efficient and reliable, they are now threatened with extinction. The emergence of this technology has ensured that there are new AI-driven career pathways, such as AI engineers and machine learning researchers, which indicates a shift in work structures that requires college graduates to constantly adapt and reskill. Furthermore, I explore the value of multidisciplinary education (i.e., integrating knowledge from various fields such as computer science, engineering, and education), the rising relevance of soft skills, and the role of educational institutions, corporations, and governments in preparing college students for an AI-powered workforce. I also discuss ethical issues, such as justice and responsibility in AI. I conclude by encouraging college graduates to embrace lifelong learning, take a proactive approach, and use AI for professional progression in a hybrid workforce.

Keywords: Artificial Intelligence, Job market, AI-driven careers, AI literacy, Job displacement

Introduction

Artificial Intelligence (AI) has been defined as the development of computer systems capable of doing activities that normally require human intellect, including decision-making, pattern recognition, and problem-solving (Saba et al., 2021). Recently, AI has grown from a niche area of technological innovation to a disruptive force in present-day society that has a prominent influence on all aspects of human life. These days, AI is essential to company operations as it streamlines workflows, boosts output and opens new avenues for customer service and data analysis (Russell & Norvig, 2021). To be relevant in this ever-changing environment, college graduates are encouraged to adapt to a state where they begin to incorporate the use of AI and AI-driven products in their day-to-day activities.

Understanding the impact of AI on the job market is essential, particularly for college graduates, as they face unprecedented opportunities and challenges. AI presents opportunities for new career paths in emerging fields such as AI engineering, robotics, and data science, offering students lucrative and in-demand roles (Manyika et al., 2017). Additionally, AI-driven industries provide flexibility through freelance and remote work engagements, allowing students to work globally (Jesuthasan & Boudreau, 2018). However, the rise of AI also presents significant challenges, such as job displacement in sectors such as Manufacturing, Transport and Logistics, Retail, Administrative and clerical work, customer services etc. (Bessen, 2019), the need for continuous ‘reskilling’ (Frey & Osborne, 2017) and increasing competition for highly specialized roles (Chui et al., 2018).

As the world shifts into an AI-driven society, college students of the modern day need to continue to equip themselves with the skills needed to survive in an AI-driven world. Special emphasis is placed on college students equipping themselves with skills in data literacy, machine learning, and automation engineering (Manyika et al., 2017). The growth of AI is a two-sided coin, as it offers opportunities in new and emerging fields. Still, it also threatens to replace traditional roles, forcing college graduates to rethink their career strategies. This dilemma thus poses a significant challenge for college graduates navigating the modern job market, which is increasingly becoming an AI-driven market. They risk falling behind if they cannot get the requisite technical skills.

Objective

I explore how AI is fundamentally altering the job market for college graduates while offering both new avenues for career growth and challenges due to automation. I highlight key sectors where the disruptive force of AI is creating demand for specialized skills, while also investigating traditional job roles continuously put at risk due to automation and emphasizing the importance of continuous learning and reskilling. The goal is to provide an active and clear roadmap for college students to understand AI’s transformative impact on the modern work scene and how they can be better prepared for a future where humans and machines co-exist and cohabitate to ensure career success (Brynjolfsson & McAfee, 2014).

AI and Current Role in the Job Market

Looking critically at Artificial Intelligence (AI), it can be described as the simulation of human intelligence in machines programmed to think, learn, and adapt (Shabbir & Anwer, 2018). This means that machines are empowered to assume certain human characteristics, such as intellect and reasoning. Unlike other technological advances that humans have made in computing, AI is a collection of technological breakthroughs that includes machine learning, natural language processing, neural networks, and robotics; all the advancements in these systems have allowed computers to critically analyze data, identify patterns, and make decisions with little to no human intervention (Russell & Norvig, 2021). The growing application of artificial intelligence (AI) in various sectors, including healthcare, finance, education, and industry, has significantly improved efficiency, productivity, and the decision-making process. For example, in the health sector, AI-powered diagnostic software like IBM Watson Health searches vast databases of patients’ medical records and research studies to assist doctors in diagnosing diseases like cancer and anomalies in medical scans with high accuracy rates (Topol, 2019; Esteva et al., 2017). Also, in the financial industry, organizations such as PayPal utilizes AI-powered fraud detection tools to filter transactions in real-time and identify suspicious transactions that human analysts will not detect (Ngai et al., 2011). Similarly, in the education industry, Duolingo and Khan Academy utilize AI to personalize learning experience to individuals’ level of progression and ability (Luckin et al., 2016). Lastly, in production, industries like General Electric use AI-driven predictive maintenance technology to track machinery performance and foresee breakdowns in advance, decreasing downtime and repair expenses (Lee et al., 2014). These scenarios demonstrate how industries are being changed by AI with optimized processes and smarter decision-making.

AI’s influence on employment has been observed more in certain sectors like technology, healthcare, and finance, where organizations are increasingly taking advantage of AI to automate repetitive tasks and augment human capabilities (Tschang & Almirall, 2021). One industry that has continued to enjoy AI’s advantages is the tech industry. It has been discovered that AI plays a vital role in software development, cybersecurity, and customer service through intelligent automation and predictive analytics (Manyika et al., 2017). AI is also revolutionizing the healthcare industry, from using precise algorithms to diagnose illnesses to using data analysis to optimize treatment regimens (Topol, 2019). AI is automating algorithmic trading, fraud detection, and consumer interactions in the banking industry to create a more streamlined and effective experience (Chui et al., 2018).

Considering the two sides of a coin analogy that has been used to describe AI, it is imperative to state that while AI is creating new opportunities in various industries, AI is also displacing traditional job roles in all the industries that are adopting it, thus creating a trend of shift in the job market. For example, the Future of Jobs Report 2023 by the World Economic Forum highlights that by 2027, 83 million jobs are expected to be displaced globally due to technological advancements, including AI and automation. At the same time, 69 million new roles are projected to emerge in fields such as AI development, sustainability, and data analysis, resulting in a net loss of 14 million jobs. This data underscores the transformative impact of AI on the global workforce and the need for reskilling initiatives to prepare workers for emerging opportunities.  Demand for specialized positions like data analysts, machine learning engineers, and AI experts has been on the rise because of the development of AI. These experts create, build, and manage AI systems, making them indispensable in industries where AI is being used increasingly (Brynjolfsson & McAfee, 2014). But typical manual work in sectors like manufacturing, transportation, and customer service is also automated by AI. Automation is especially dangerous for jobs requiring repeated activities, such as assembly line work or simple administrative duties (Bessen, 2019). The dual nature of AI’s effects emphasizes how crucial it is to retrain individuals for more sophisticated jobs that AI cannot replace, especially those involving creativity, emotional intelligence, and strategic thinking.

Job Market: Skills and Opportunities

As artificial intelligence (AI) continues to reshape industries, the required skill sets for college graduates are also rapidly evolving. The modern workforce prioritizes technological proficiency in data analysis, AI literacy, and sophisticated problem-solving skills above traditional degrees (Manyika et al., 2017). Since enormous datasets are essential to adequately operating AI systems, data analysis has become even more critical. College graduates with a solid background in data analytics are more valuable in AI-driven sectors because they can read, process, and extract important insights from large, complex data sets more effectively (Brynjolfsson & McAfee, 2014). Furthermore, understanding AI literacy requires understanding AI systems’ functions, uses, and limits. Companies are looking for workers who can use AI and figure out how to incorporate technology into other aspects of their business (Bessen, 2019). As the foundation of human intellect, problem-solving enhances AI’s computing powers and is one of the most sought-after talents for college graduates in various industries.

Jobs like data analysts, machine learning researchers, and AI engineers are among the key AI-driven prospects. Building and maintaining AI models is the responsibility of AI engineers, a position calling for a strong computer science, mathematics, and machine learning background. Conversely, machine learning researchers work to enhance the algorithms that drive artificial intelligence (AI), allowing computers to learn from data with little assistance from humans (Chui et al., 2018). Furthermore, there is a growing need for data analysts as companies want experts who can use big data to provide predictive insights that will help them optimize operations and make well-informed decisions. The World Economic Forum (2020) lists data science and artificial intelligence (AI) jobs as some of the top developing job categories, with demand predicted to rise sharply over the next ten years.

In a workplace driven by artificial intelligence, soft skills are equally as necessary as technical ones. Thus, to make headway in a job market that is changing quickly, college students must possess the following qualities: adaptability, critical thinking, and creativity. Adaptability is essential since the technology environment constantly changes, and workers must pick up new skills quickly (Bessen, 2019). Because critical thinking helps people evaluate complicated issues that AI might not be able to solve just yet, human workers will always be necessary when making decisions. Finally, creativity enables workers—particularly in industries like marketing, design, and strategic leadership, to create and come up with solutions that surpass the capabilities of AI systems. These soft skills provide the human touch that AI cannot replicate, making them indispensable in a hybrid workforce where humans and AI collaborate to achieve optimal results (Brynjolfsson & McAfee, 2014).

AI and the Future of Work: A Shift in Job Structures

AI and human cooperation are shaping the nature of work more and more, creating a hybrid workforce. According to this concept, people concentrate on jobs requiring emotional intelligence, strategic thinking, and creativity, while AI systems care for monotonous, data-driven activities (Bessen, 2019). Humans may be more creative and productive because of AI’s efficiency in processing large volumes of data, especially in industries like marketing, finance, and healthcare. For example, AI is helping medical professionals diagnose illnesses more accurately while human experts concentrate on patient care and sophisticated decision-making (Topol, 2019). In customer service, AI and humans work together, with chatbots handling simple inquiries and human agents handling trickier problems. To succeed in this changing environment, college graduates are expected to acquire both technical and interpersonal skills since the hybrid workforce is redefining job positions (Brynjolfsson & McAfee, 2014).

The gig (freelancing) economy is growing because of AI, especially for recent college graduates. As businesses increasingly outsource duties to specialists, automation of regular processes frees up time for people to concentrate on freelancing work, typically across several industries (Manyika et al., 2017). Data analysis, AI development, and digital marketing strategy are among the AI-related services in high demand on freelance marketplaces like Upwork and Fiverr. Approximately 20–30% of working-age people in industrialized nations do independent work, according to a McKinsey (2016) analysis. This percentage is predicted to rise as technology creates more chances for gig-based employment (Chui et al., 2018). For college graduates, this shift offers flexibility and access to a global job market, but it also demands continuous learning and upskilling to stay competitive in the AI-driven economy.

The extensive use of Artificial Intelligence in the workplace presents significant ethical concerns around responsibility, justice, and prejudice. According to O’Neil (2016), Artificial intelligence (AI) systems occasionally reproduce biases in the data they are trained on, leading to skewed customer service, discriminatory outcomes in legal and medical assessments, and unfair employment practices. For instance, algorithms employed in hiring might give preference to applicants who fit demographics, thereby sustaining inequality. College graduates need to be aware of these moral conundrums as AI continues to seep into the workforce, as they will be essential in navigating and resolving these issues. Accountability in AI is also a developing worry. It’s sometimes unclear who should be held accountable for mistakes or discriminatory behavior made by AI systems—the company, the AI itself, or its creators (Cath et al., 2018). College graduates pursuing careers in AI-related disciplines must discuss these moral dilemmas and push for responsibility, equity, and openness in the creation and application of AI. They could address ethical issues by advocating for unbiased training datasets, ensuring diversity in AI development teams, engaging in ethical AI auditing, and collaborating with policymakers.

Preparing College Students for the AI-Driven Future

Institutions of higher learning are gradually redesigning their courses to provide College students with the competencies needed in an AI-driven economy. In addition to incorporating AI, machine learning, and data analytics into their regular curricula, universities are now starting to offer specialized courses in these areas (Marr, 2020). Stanford and MIT, for example, have introduced AI-focused programs emphasizing both technical proficiency and ethical issues (Russell & Norvig, 2016). In addition to conventional education, industry partnerships and project-based learning are becoming increasingly popular to guarantee that college graduates have practical experience interacting with AI systems. The need for multidisciplinary knowledge—combining technical, creative, and problem-solving skills—is growing as AI disrupts businesses. Higher education reforms must continue evolving to meet this need, creating college graduates proficient in AI and capable of addressing its broader societal impacts (Kshetri, 2021).

Upskilling and constant learning are necessary to be competitive in an AI-driven workplace environment. College graduates must now possess AI literacy, which is becoming essential in all fields (Jesuthasan & Boudreau, 2018). Employability will increase with the capacity to comprehend and use AI technologies, particularly in industries where AI is developing quickly, such as healthcare, finance, and education (Tariq, 2024). Initiatives for lifelong learning are also gaining popularity, including online classes, workshops, and certificates in fields linked to artificial intelligence. For those looking to advance their knowledge in fields like data analysis, machine learning, and AI ethics, platforms such as Coursera, edX, and LinkedIn Learning offer easily accessible materials. Companies and academic institutions support this change because they understand that the rapid advancement of AI calls for a workforce dedicated to lifelong learning and flexibility (Frey & Osborne, 2020).

Governments and the private sector are essential in assisting college students to adjust to a labor market driven by artificial intelligence. Policy efforts like the European Commission’s “AI for Good” plan aim to promote equitable growth and support the development of AI capabilities (European Commission, 2020). Governments can fund research, provide grants and scholarships, and offer other assistance for AI education, focusing on AI literacy. Meanwhile, to equip college students for the changing labor market, businesses are anticipated to fund upskilling initiatives and develop collaborations with academic institutions (Jesuthasan & Boudreau, 2018). Collaborative efforts between governments and industries are important to building a sustainable workforce capable of prospering in an AI-influenced economy.

Conclusion

Artificial Intelligence is changing sectors and work structures, which is changing the graduate job market. College graduates must be flexible since AI promotes automation, generates new positions, and necessitates a combination of hard and soft abilities. These days, lifelong learning and constant upskilling are essential, as are vital skills like AI literacy, data analytics, and creative problem-solving. The future workforce will combine AI and human cooperation as educational institutions update curricula and businesses adopt AI integration. College graduates must proactively position themselves by embracing technology breakthroughs, seeking multidisciplinary knowledge, and staying ahead of AI trends to flourish in this changing world. Being adaptive and lifelong learning will be essential for prospering in an AI-driven workforce. College graduates should view AI as an opportunity to further their careers and utilize technology to enhance human skills rather than as a threat. It is now necessary to retrain, adjust to change, and get ready for a workforce in which artificial intelligence (AI) will be crucial to people’s success.

Author Biography

Olufemi Fagun (He/Him/His) is a dedicated advocate for inclusion and empowering student voices, possessing a growing background in student engagement, career coaching, and inclusive career development. He is currently pursuing the Higher Education and Student Affairs Program at the Neag School of Education, University of Connecticut, while serving as a Graduate Assistant at UConn’s Center for Career Readiness and Life Skills. In this role, he designs programs aimed at empowering marginalized student communities and investigates the influence of AI and innovation on the future workforce.

References

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World Economic Forum. (2023). The Future of Jobs Report 2023. Retrieved from https://www.weforum.org/reports/the-future-of-jobs-report-2023

US News and World Report began ranking colleges in 1983, and each year, students vie for a limited number of seats at top-ranked institutions by striving to excel in their sports, make straight As, take as many advanced courses as their schools (or local colleges) offer, participate in clubs and organizations, and bank a few volunteer hours if they are able. With exceptionally competitive acceptance rates at Ivy League and top-rated institutions, a student’s maximum effort could very well not be good enough.

For affluent families accustomed to solving problems with cash, reports of the admissions scandal exposed just how far families and students would go to secure admission at an esteemed institution. Viewing Operation Varsity Blues: The College Admissions Scandal paired with reading Admission by Julie Buxbaum will provide context for graduate students studying the law and ethics that impact higher education. The combination of these pieces delivers the facts while also considering the perspectives, or potential positions, of everyone involved.

Operation Varsity Blues: The College Admissions Scandal

Operation Varsity Blues, a documentary, opens with social media clips of high school seniors accessing their admissions decisions through online applicant portals. Director Chris Smith chooses these snippets to showcase the fear, anxiety, and tension expressed by students as they discover their academic fates. To further capture viewers’ attention, the documentary opens with this disclaimer: “The conversations in this film are real. They are recreations of wiretap transcripts released by the US government,” (Smith, 2021, 3:53).

Operation Varsity Blues follows independent college admissions counselor Rick Singer and reveals the means by which he was able to provide nearly guaranteed admission to prestigious schools for those able to write the checks to cover the fees he charged for his services. Through wiretapped conversations, interviews with federal investigators, test prep experts, college counselors, former clients, and even an ex-girlfriend of Singer’s, Smith introduces viewers to the mastermind behind the college admissions scandal that broke in 2019. After his own volatility got him fired from his job coaching basketball, Singer noted a need for a different kind of coaching in Sacramento and quickly became well-known for his work as an independent college counselor – or coach. While some of this work coaching students through the process of getting into college may have been legitimate, Rick often assisted families in accessing what he referred to as the “side door” into college admissions.

In recorded and reenacted wiretaps, Singer, played in reenactments in the series by Matthew Modine, explained the doors to college to his prospective clients: the “front door” to admissions is getting into college on your own merit – easier said than done for families fixed on prestigious institutions. The “back door” into a college can only be afforded by the exorbitantly rich as it requires making a multimillion-dollar donation to the institution. Rick then offered his “side door” to college admission to his clients – and that side door could look different based on each student, each desired institution, and the amount of money each family was willing to pay. “Side door” applications could employ any number of fraudulent strategies from lying about a student’s race, modifying photos to give the perception that a student played a certain sport, falsifying test scores, feigning academic disabilities, or forging a student’s handwriting and signature on documents making claims that the student may not have been aware of. If all went according to plan, Singer and a student’s parents could submit a “side door” application, complete with a sizeable donation to Rick Singer’s foundation, which he would then funnel to the college of choice. Sometimes the entire process happened without the student ever being aware.

After at least eight years (but likely many more) of running “side door” admissions for the rich and famous, one of Singer’s former clients was arrested on unrelated charges. This arrest prompted him to volunteer information about a Yale soccer coach, Rudy Meredith, who had been accepting admissions bribes. After Meredith was indicted, the dominoes fell rapidly as he, in turn, offered information on Singer, who chose to cooperate by working with federal agents to have his own clients arrested. Through clandestine meetings and wiretaps, Singer assisted the FBI in arresting dozens of his wealthy and often famous clients.

Smith ends the documentary with heart-wrenching social media clips of students checking their admissions status and receiving disappointing news. The shots of tearful teenagers transition to footage of Singer, his accomplices, and his clients – listing how they pled to the charges against them and the sentences that were handed down (if they had been sentenced by the time the documentary was released). News of the inequitable admissions processes angered the nation, but perhaps the greatest offenses were the sentences handed down to the hyper-privileged group of defendants. Most notably, Lori Laughlin was sentenced to two months in prison, and Felicity Huffman received only fourteen days.

A final scene depicts brief reflections from those interviewed for the film. They speculated on whether harsher sentences would have made a difference, the level of culpability that should be assigned to each party, and whether the competitive culture of higher education was to blame for whole debacle. Meanwhile, Rick Singer was shown living comfortably in Newport Beach, out on bail until his own trial began.

Strengths and Limitations

Strengths

Operation Varsity Blues: The College Admissions Scandal is dramatic, engaging, and uncomfortable. Smith’s film gives the audience a glimpse into Rick Singer’s life and the ease with which he was able to deceive others. From reenacted scenes of his interactions with college coaches – some of whom expressed confusion about the legality of their involvement – to wiretaps with the clients that Singer turned witness against, the portrayal of these crimes leaves viewers unsettled.

While the scandal itself is confusing and involves many accomplices, clients, and their children, one of the strengths of the film is that Smith was able to simplify the scandal’s complexity and depth in a way that makes it more relatable to viewers. The documentary takes the take time to highlight a few clients in particular – including well-known Full House actress, Lori Loughlin and her husband, Mossimo Giannulli. Much of the time that the documentary devotes to covering the Loughlin-Giannulli family was specifically dedicated to discussing their daughter, Olivia Jade, who had created a significant following on YouTube, garnering for herself other financial opportunities with her own beauty lines and makeup partnerships.

Olivia Jade’s case in particular shows the consequences that the students themselves faced – regardless of the depth of their involvement in the scheme. The film details Olivia Jade’s lackadaisical attitude toward school and provides pieces of her vlogs that mention her parents’ wishes for her to attend college, though by her own confession, she had wanted to drop out of high school. In this way, the audience is left to work out for themselves how much (or how little) some students might have been involved and forces them to question the impact that the scandal had on the students who seemingly benefitted from it. Ultimately, the investigators and judicial system found only the parents to be culpable. While some of the students received penalties, such as reversed admissions decisions, criminal charges were never filed against any of them. For Olivia Jade, this meant losing her partnerships with beauty brands that had once promoted and sold products from her own makeup line. Regardless, during the trials, prosecutors noted that many of the students had no knowledge of their parents’ actions.

Limitations

Chris Smith’s documentary does an excellent job of showing the various perspectives of the victims, local professionals, unwitting participants, and the law enforcement who uncovered the scandal. Understandably, the main perspective missing is that of the clients and their students. Through reenactments, the film shows how brazenly candid parents could be with Singer in their conversations, and we lose the perspective of being able to understand the involvement, emotions, and responses of the students.

As is to be expected with a scandal involving so many players, Operation Varsity Blues is unable to detail the extent of the crimes committed by Singer, the schools, the athletic partners, and the wealthy/celebrity clients. In the amount of time that a documentary allows, it would be impossible to discuss all the charges, the massive amounts of money involved, the sentences of each defendant, and the extent of Rick Singer’s lies. Although the film integrates several clips of teens reacting to the scandal, there is a noticeable absence of interviews from applicants who feel that their spot at implicated institutions had been wrongfully taken from them. While there would be no way of locating and identifying the student victims, students having received a rejection letter from an implicated school may always wonder about their true eligibility to attend their preferred school.

The timing of the documentary places another limitation on the film in that many of the defendants had not yet been sentenced or even tried. Watching the film end with Rick Singer living his normal life leaves the viewer with an unresolved tension that is both creative and deeply frustrating. In 2023, Singer was ultimately sentenced to three and a half years in prison followed by an additional three years of supervised release. He ended up serving 16 months and has since returned to helping students get into college (Korn & Levitz, 2024).

Admission

If one of the main criticisms of the Operation Varsity Blues documentary is the lack of student perspective, Admission by Julie Buxbaum provides that missing piece. The novel is a provocative way through what could possibly be described as “fanfiction” about the college admissions scandal. Although Buxbaum provides a disclaimer noting that the book is a work of fiction, the text creates a parallel version of the events of the college admissions scandal seen through the eyes of Chloe Wynn Berringer, the daughter of a B-list celebrity best known for her stint on a sitcom. Chloe lives with her mom, Joy, her dad, Richard, and her little sister, Isla – not too unlike Olivia Jade, her parents, and her sister, Isabella. Readers only need a few paragraphs before realizing the line between the reality of Olivia Jade’s circumstances and the fictionalization of Chloe’s story is quite thin.

The book opens with Chloe hearing a heavy knock on the front door, assuming the family has received a package containing a script or high-end makeup or promotional materials but opening the door to discover the FBI wielding weapons and looking for her mother. As she watches agents arrest her mother, hears her father call lawyers, and watches the headlines pouring through in the days to come, Chloe’s charmed life collapses. After this startling first chapter, Buxbaum goes back and forth from the past to the present in each subsequent chapter, showing the reader Chloe’s journey from a popular college applicant to a social pariah in need of her own lawyer.

The unique timeline of Admission compels the reader to fluctuate between feelings of anger and empathy for Chloe as she recounts what she knew about her fraudulent college admissions process and then manages the repercussions it had for her family, her friends, and her own future. Readers will find it all too easy to look at the college admissions scandal and resent the students who benefitted. However, Buxbaum gently suggests the possible ignorance, confusion, and ambivalence of the students entangled in the scandal due to their parents’ actions. What if some of these students never planned to attend any college, much less a prestigious institution?

Themes

Privilege and Inequality in Education

Throughout Admission, Chloe’s best friend, Shola, serves as a foil to expose Chloe’s extensive privilege. The daughter of Nigerian immigrants, Shola receives an academic scholarship to attend the prestigious and private Wood Valley High School in Los Angeles. Aside from highlighting the obvious differences in familial responsibilities, housing, and finances, Shola’s character highlights the discrepancies between her educational opportunities and Chloe’s.

While Shola has had to prepare for the SAT/ACTs on her own, Chloe worked with a five-hundred-dollar-an-hour tutor. Shola also tutors her own siblings in the hope that they, too, will be able to earn academic scholarships to Wood Valley, but she could not access a private admissions consultant to help her with applications. Although Wood Valley recommended against it, Chloe’s family employed consultant Dr. Wilson – and while doing so proved to be a great mistake, Chloe received advantages in her college application process. Dr. Wilson’s connections afforded Chloe access to learning disorder testing, resulting in privately (and fraudulently) proctored standardized tests and assistance with submitting her application materials.

In one of Shola’s particularly poignant conversations with Chloe about her privilege, Chloe laments having a life so uninteresting that she has nothing to write her college essay about. Shola responds by correcting her saying “Chlo, when you say, ‘least interesting’ what you mean is ‘most privileged’ – like nothing bad has ever happened to you… and the idea that you’d complain about that is the height of entitlement” (Buxbaum, 2020, p. 148). To further emphasize the difference in college stress between these young women, Shola tearfully shares that she needs to keep up with tutoring her siblings while trying to decipher the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA). In another exasperating display of Chloe’s ignorance of what others go through to attend college, she responds, “What’s a FAFSA?” (Buxbaum, 2020, p. 150).

Family Dynamics

In the stressful, illegal process that depends upon family members lying to each other, family dynamics are tested and strained in the book. Buxbaum leaves readers guessing about the resilience of the Berringer family relationships through most of the book. In the first chapter, Buxbaum introduces this complexity by how Chloe weaves through a single monologue commenting about both her mother’s vanity and sympathy for how her mother was treated as she was taken into custody. Each subsequent chapter introduces a new tension between the Berringer family members – Chloe obtaining independent legal counsel to potentially protect her from the actions of her parents, Isla’s concerns about her own future college options, Chloe’s devastation at her parents’ lack of confidence in her academic ability, and disagreements regarding the best legal options for Chloe’s mother, Joy.

Nearly every chapter from the present time introduces a new twist in the Berringer family drama, never hinting at a resolution until the final pages of the book. Eventually, Buxbaum emphasizes the communication difficulties the Berringers faced by addressing that a condition of Joy’s bail was that she was not permitted to discuss the alleged crimes with anyone. While this should prevent Chloe from confronting her parents about the scandal, the family continues to talk through issues and Chloe confronts her mother. As Chloe watches her mother weep in response, Chloe summarizes the state of the Berringer family dynamic through internal monologue, stating, “I didn’t know you could feel blistering love and hate at the exact same time, but here we are,” (Buxbaum, 2020, p. 155). Tensions continue to rise and fall, yet a resolution for the family does not come until the epilogue.

 “Knowing”

The most complex theme Buxbaum presents in Admission is how to define what it means to “know” something. Throughout the text, Chloe often struggles to identify the line between “suspicion” and “confirmation.” While most of her friends and acquaintances had completely cut contact with Chloe because of the scandal, those left all asked, “Did you know?” We learn of Chloe’s suspicions about Dr. Wilson and her parents altering her college application materials, but she never fully voices her concerns or tries to stop the process.

The moment Chloe begins to question her own complicity was when Isla told her that she needed her own lawyer. Chloe contests that had she truly not known what was happening she would not need a lawyer. Isla responded, “Come on, the dumb act might fool Mom and Dad, but it doesn’t fool me. I wouldn’t count on it fooling a jury either,” (Buxbaum, 2020, p. 46). Some of the most profound moments of Admission come from Chloe and Isla’s contemplation of their own culpability.

I keep thinking about what it means to know something. Like whether the concept of knowing is something active or passive. When does something graduate from being a suspicion?” … Leave it to my sister to boil down everything I’ve been thinking into a simple question … Isla is talking about passively knowing, and I wonder if there is such a thing as actively choosing not to know. (Buxbaum, 2020, pp. 241-243).

Although the reader is never given a definitive answer on whether Chloe knew about the admissions scheme, a gripping moment with her best friend, Shola, exemplifies Chloe has begun to take responsibility for the role that she played. As Shola harshly confronts Chloe about the scandal, her lies, and her moral failure in ignoring her suspicions, Chloe can finally admit to herself that while she was not explicitly aware of every single detail, she “aggressively chose not to know” (Buxbaum, 2020, p. 258).

Implications for Student Affairs Programs and Practice

It would be difficult to discuss the current context of law and ethics in higher education without discussing the 2019 college admissions scandal. This event touches on issues of educational access, equity, merit, privilege, and other topics that remain relevant. In relation to privilege and equity, the consideration of legacy status being used as a factor in university admissions continues to be troublesome for those concerned with access and fairness.

Operation Varsity Blues and Admission while complex, provide remarkable insight into both society and higher education, especially when studied in tandem. Although there is debate around the multiple roles enrollment management plays in student affairs, practitioners must remain aware of the pressures and systemic issues in high school and throughout the enrollment process. Understanding these pressures is necessary for student affairs practitioners to be informed and considerate of the emotions that new students may be sorting through not only during high school or their first year on campus, but throughout their higher education experiences.

Operation Varsity Blues highlights the status symbol that higher education has become, and Admission displays the temptation for parents to push their children toward elite institutions even when the student has no desire to continue their education or when a student may feel more comfortable attending a different type of institution. Both works provide insight into the stress and anxiety students have faced throughout enrollment. This is an important conversation for student affairs professionals as we consider how we react to our students – some who may be attending their dream school and others who may be disappointed in the options they had for college and still others who may not be living their own dreams, but the dreams of their families instead.

Conclusion

In preparing for, or in the development of, a career in student affairs, the combination of watching Operation Varsity Blues and reading Admission provides helpful insight into some of the very first challenges a student may face coming into college. Admission offers a natural segue into discussion about how to advise and assist students during the turbulent shift from parental dependence to solo decision-making. In a variety of ways college applicants, and later, matriculants will struggle with parental involvement – whether that be in relation to what schools to apply to, what to major in, or what social or financial decisions a student should make. In any functional area, professionals should be prepared to help students navigate the transition in the student/parent relationship. Admission can also spark feelings of empathy for affluent students who are just beginning to learn about and face the realities of the privilege they may have (and be oblivious to) in comparison to their peers.

While Admission focuses more on the student facing issues of the admissions scandal, Operation Varsity Blues will help professionals understand the legal and ethical issues that can arise in the field of higher education. Realistically, the majority of practitioners will not be faced with bribery attempts or engage in falsifying academic records; however, seeing the documentary interviews with former Stanford sailing coach, John Vandemoer, provides insight into how innocuous an ethical issue might seem at first. This demonstrates how important it is for new higher education professionals to receive training on legal and ethical red flags. Looking towards the root causes of the scandal, Operation Varsity Blues can prompt discussion on the status symbol that higher education has become and how professionals can help relieve some of the unrelenting societal pressure to not just achieve but overachieve.

Operation Varsity Blues leaves the viewer feeling unrelenting disdain for the families who participated in the scandal. Admission is its perfect counterpart, adding nuance and perspective as to what these families went through as they faced the consequences of their actions. For student affairs practitioners, the internal tension that watching both the documentary and reading the book provides is important and thought-provoking, in a way that only consuming both works could provide.

Questions for Practice

1. Discuss your feelings regarding Chloe as the main character in Admission. Did your perspective on Chloe’s personal responsibility in the scandal change over the course of reading the book?
2. What is an appropriate role for student affairs practitioners to play in facilitating students’ changing relationships with their parents? How do you help a student conflicted between their own goals versus the wishes of their parents?
3. How can we, as student affairs professionals, work to change the toxic culture surrounding the perceived status and prestige of attending one school versus another and emphasize “best fit” as a determining factor in college choice?
4. Spend some time looking into the sentences handed down to those convicted in the Varsity Blues scandal. Do you think these sentences were just? Were the sentences harsh enough to deter other attempts at “side door” admissions in the future?
5. What legal and ethical issues might you face in your current or future student affairs position? What resources does your institution have for reporting events you may find questionable?

Author Biography

Rachel Mustin (she/her/hers) currently serves as the Assistant Director of Student Services for the College of Arts and Humanities at Clemson University. She is a December 2024 graduate of Clemson’s M. Ed. in Student Affairs and has over 10 years of experience working in higher education. When not on Clemson’s campus, you can find Rachel at home – trying out new recipes or watching cheesy paranormal tv shows with her husband and her dog, River.

References

Buxbaum, J. (2020). Admission. Delacourt Press.

Korn, M. & Levitz, J. (2024, October 19). Varsity Blues Mastermind is Out of Prison—and Wants to Help Get Your Kid Into College. New York Times.

Smith, C., Karmen, J., & Henley, Y. (Producers) & Smith, C. (Director), (2019). Operation varsity blues: The college admissions scandal. [Documentary]. Netflix.

By Jenny Small, Kari Taylor, Laila McCloud, and Kevin Wright

With the conclusion of Convention season, the co-editorship of ACPA Books has transitioned. After two years, Jenny Small and Kari Taylor are handing their leadership off to Laila McCloud and Kevin Wright. As Jenny and Kari transition out, we are thrilled to announce the forthcoming publication of Fostering Equity and Inclusion in Graduate Education: Key Strategies and Perspectives, edited by Stephanie Bondi, Uyen Tran-Parsons, and Vijay Kanagala. Jenny and Kari were fortunate to work with and support this team as they developed their successful proposal to Routledge Publishing.

We encourage anyone interested in following in Stephanie, Uyen, and Vijay’s footsteps to reach out to the new ACPA Books Co-Editors Laila McCloud (mcclolai@gvsu.edu) and Kevin Wright (k.wright6@snhu.edu). The new series editors are ready to work with ACPA members who want to publish praxis-oriented scholarship. Whether you’re developing a new book proposal or exploring an idea grounded in critical theory and student affairs practice, Laila and Kevin are eager to support your journey from concept to publication. Let’s continue advancing the field through scholarship that bridges theory, research, and meaningful action.

The ACPA Marylu K. McEwen Dissertation of the Year Award program received many strong submissions this year. Collectively, this work is helping to push the field of student affairs forward in significant ways. Below, we highlight the work of our recipient (Dr. Katherine Lebioda) and two finalists (Drs. Lisa Combs & Neal McKinney) by sharing abstracts of their dissertation work. We encourage readers to check out their full dissertations (hyperlinks below) and keep an eye out for their future publications. Congratulations to our recipient and finalists on their impressive work!

Dr. Katherine Lebioda (Award Recipient)

Blossoming Together: Imagining Humanizing Relationships between Racially/Ethnically Minoritized Students and Postsecondary Institutions through Digital Storytelling

In this participatory action research study, I designed a digital storytelling program to facilitate conversations with racially minoritized students about their experiences with diversity, equity, and inclusion on campus—an elite, predominantly white, state flagship. I implemented this program with three groups of students (18 students total) over the course of nine meetings and a debriefing interview with each participant. At the crux of this study is a concept which I term psychosocial blossoming. Psychosocial blossoming is a radical process toward wholeness, humanization, and liberation that emphasizes individual agency and empowerment while honoring relationships with others and environments. Through portraiture as a methodology, I examined the context of this project, how it unfolded, and the experiences of both the students and researcher-facilitator with regard to their experiences with diversity, equity, and inclusion. To present findings, I created digital stories—3-5 minute audiovisual products featuring first-person narration and author-created visuals such as photographs and art—to serve as portraits. Thus, digital stories served as both the method for students’ meaning-making (within the project) and the portraits of our interactions as a collective (about the project).

I wanted to bring students together to advocate for change around diversity, equity, and inclusion, yet my students largely struggled to imagine their college as a site of possibility. Students did not care to invest in an institution they felt was uninvested in them. Nearly all described ways they viewed their relationship with the institution as transactional, extractive, and surface-level. Moreover, several critiqued diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives as predicated on the assumption that students want to be included in the larger campus culture. In contrast, the students described their experiences in the digital storytelling project as affirming, enlightening, and deeply moving. Their amazement and appreciation of the structured story-sharing activity became the foundation for our community action: creating spaces of trust, vulnerability, and connection across groups of interracial strangers. Through this research, organizations (i.e., colleges, schools, or the individuals within them) can utilize the concept of psychosocial blossoming to radically change the way they engage in diversity, equity, and justice work and build more inclusive communities. 

Dr. Lisa Combs (Finalist)

Liminality as Student Development Theory: A Third Wave Situational Analysis

The purpose of this study was to examine thematic meanings of liminality as a reimagined construct for college students with in-between identity experiences. This poststructural qualitative grounded theory situational analysis study then aimed to develop a student development theory focused on liminality with a third wave poststructural perspective. For the purpose of this study, I defined liminal identity experiences as anyone who has an experience related to existing beyond rigid categories. Examples of students who may be more inclined to have liminal experiences include multiracial students, gender non-binary students, interfaith students, students who straddle socioeconomic status, students with invisible/temporal disabilities, and bisexual students. The research questions that guided the study were: (a) What are thematic meanings that college students have around liminality?; And (b) How do college students who experience liminality build community with other peers? To answer these questions, I employed situational analysis as my methodological approach and collected data through two individual interviews and participant maps with 13 participants. In the analysis process, I utilized situational, positional, relational, and social arena analysis maps alongside my theoretical framework to identify the thematic meanings. Specifically, I used the relational map to address my second question focused on community building. I offer an overview of all five findings and the data analysis maps I utilized in the process. The five themes I identified in the data were: the complexities of liminality as a construct, a predisposition to expansive worldviews, uncanny/accidental liminal communities, double gatekeeping, and a lack of institutional support. Through these five findings, I gained a better understanding of college students’ liminal identity experiences that can inform praxis and policy when supporting students in the in-between. As part of fulfilling the purpose of this dissertation, I presented two theoretical models of liminality including a web and ecological model to retheorize power in higher education contexts. In conclusion, I offered implications and recommendations, as well as a letter to those with liminal identity experiences.

Dr. Neal McKinney (Finalist)

Planting Gardens Versus Fighting Fires: A Critical Race Narrative Inquiry of Black and Latinx Students’ Lower Participation in Education Abroad 

Education abroad personnel (EAP) have relied on a 30+ years old rationale that Black and Latinx students participate in U.S. college study abroad programs at a lower rate than their white peers due to cultural differences attributed to differences in their backgrounds. Therefore, this qualitative study sought to understand: (1) how EAP narrate the phenomenon of the lower participation rate of Black and Latinx college students in education abroad programs, (1a) what, if any, patterns of race and racism are present in their narrative, and (2) how Black and Latinx students make meaning of these narratives. Using narrative inquiry and critical race storytelling research methodology, this bricolage research design analyzed the lived experiences of 11 EAP and five Black and Latinx students through the lens of race and racism to (re)present their narratives as a composite stock story and a composite counter-story. The findings indicate that: 1) Education abroad personnel attribute Black and Latinx students’ lower participation to visibility, family, and financial constraints, reflecting a racialized deficit mindset by framing students’ backgrounds as the primary reason for lower participation, and 2) While Black and Latinx students acknowledge these barriers, they also highlight that education abroad programs fail to effectively communicate their relevance and value. In sum, EAP overlook their own influence on Black and Latinx students’ lower participation.

Authors

Kaity Prieto (she/her) is an Assistant Professor of Higher Education at the University of Southern Mississippi. Her research centers queer and trans students, with a focus on bisexual+ identities and experiences. She received her Ph.D. in Educational Studies with a concentration in Higher Education and Student Affairs from The Ohio State University. Dr. Prieto is the Scholar-in-Residence for ACPA’s Coalition for Sexuality and Gender Identities (CSGI) and the Marylu McEwen Dissertation of the Year Award Co-Chair.

Christopher Travers (he/him) is a Visiting Clinical Assistant Professor in the Higher Education, Student Affairs, International Education Policy (HESI) program at the University of Maryland, College Park. His work deals with life-making among Black folx in higher education through the exploration of liberatory masculinities, faith and spiritual connection, and love as a social justice intervention. He earned his Ph.D. in Educational Studies with a concentration in Higher Education and Student Affairs from The Ohio State University. Dr. Travers is Co-Chair of the Marylu McEwen Dissertation of the Year Award.

Every path I explored for this message led me back to one unavoidable truth: higher education in America stands at a crossroads, under siege from forces determined to reshape — or dismantle — our very foundations.

Since the beginning of 2025, we have weathered a relentless storm of political pressure, ideological interference, and existential threats to our missions of teaching, discovery, and service. It has been exhausting. It has been dispiriting. And it has, at times, felt eerily familiar — evoking the same undercurrent of fear and uncertainty many of us endured during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.

In the April 3, 2025 issue of The Chronicle of Higher Education, the article “We Are in the Crossfire for Just Doing Our Jobs” captures the raw emotions that so many in our profession feel today: a sense of exhaustion, of lost hope, of questioning whether the work we do will survive the political forces arrayed against it. It is no surprise that we feel unsettled when the very purposes, values, structures, and funding sources that sustain our profession are attacked by those entrusted to govern.

As the senior staff executive at ACPA, I have the distinct honor of being immersed daily in the stories of our community — students, faculty, and staff alike. I witness both the deeply personal struggles and the sweeping national trends that are shaping our field. I see how, even when faced with common threats, our institutions sometimes hesitate to link arms, conditioned by systems that pit college against college in a race for enrollment, prestige, and survival. Yet despite these headwinds, I am proud that nearly 200 colleges, universities, and scholarly societies recently came together to release A Call for Constructive Engagement. This is the kind of unity our times demand.

In uncertain moments, it is natural to search for a finish line — an election, a change of leadership, a better tomorrow. Some place their hope in the 2026 midterms; others look farther to 2028. And yet, as we know too well, the future remains stubbornly unpredictable. Three and a half years can feel like an eternity when each month brings fresh challenges.

Our duty is clear. We must not only endure these times; we must act. We must prepare our students — not just months before elections, but every day — to engage, to vote, to lead. Civic engagement is a movement, not a moment. It must be woven into the very fabric of campus life. And we must think even bigger. The forces we are grappling with today are not new. Higher education has long been made a pawn in the nation’s political games. I often think of a pendulum — its natural swing back and forth. Yet what we are experiencing is no ordinary pendulum. With each political transition, the swings grow sharper, faster, more polarized. We need only look at the evolution of Title IX over the past decade to understand it: a policy reshaped again and again by whichever administration holds power.

Today, we are in the throes of another hard swing. And while future elections may shift the direction, the intensity of the swings is unlikely to abate. So, what then is our calling? We must be the center, the anchor. We must refuse to be so easily bent and broken by political winds no matter which political party governs our state or federal policies.

Our mission — to educate, to expand opportunity, to prepare future generations — must not change, even when everything around us does. We are witnessing institutions being forced to choose between their values and their budgets, between principle and pragmatism. These are painful, imperfect choices. But amid the pressure, we must not lose sight of who we are, and why we exist.

This is not merely a season of survival. It is a season of recommitment. We must hold fast to our purpose. We must link arms more tightly, across institutions and associations. We must meet this moment — and the moments still to come — not with fear, but with fierce, unshakable hope.

Yes, higher education is facing tough times right now. We must also prepare for the likelihood of increased political pendulum activity in future years as the United States and world becomes more polarized in our beliefs and ideologies. Let’s do our best to support each other during the current moment while Newton’s Third Law of Motion teaches us that every action force has an equal and opposite reaction force. If we are wise, higher education will consider the longer-term implications for not paying attention to the political pendulum and make decisions today that start helping us reconnect with the core of who we are and the bold transformation we help create for future generations.

All my best,

Chris Moody, Ed.D.
ACPA Executive Director

The message below was shared with the ACPA membership on April 11, 2025.

It is clear that higher education in the United States is currently facing challenging and complex times. Political interference in the mission and operations of higher education is only the most recent in a series of disruptions—including reduced public and state investment, enrollment declines, the lasting impact of the COVID-19 pandemic, and ongoing attacks on diversity, equity, and inclusion. These challenges have already had tremendous implications for students, professionals and scholars, and institutional leadership, as well as the organizations and associations who support them.

The higher education community has consistently proven that we are resilient and hopeful people. We need to continue to call on our belief in education as a transformative power for individuals and communities as we face new and emerging threats to our purpose. We have done it before, and we can and will do it again…together as ACPA and with colleagues and partners across higher education.

Associations are in a unique and precarious position. ACPA is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. We are required to advance our mission and values in ways that reflect nonpartisan perspectives across an ideological spectrum. Our efforts are designed to inform and educate members (and in some cases the public and policymakers) about key issues affecting higher education or college students, without promoting any political party or agenda. Based on research and expertise developed through practice and scholarship, we provide guidance and considerations but are not situated to offer advice or counsel on legal matters.

Our advocacy is strongest when we unite with colleague associations, particularly in the Washington Higher Education Secretariat organized through the American Council on Education, to amplify the perspectives of our members – both institutions and individuals – on issues of greatest concern to our field. Our recent participation with over 65 higher education organizations in responding to the February 2025 Dear Colleague Letter released by the U.S. Department of Education serves as an example. This is an important time for ACPA to align with our association colleagues in advocating for the field in ways that are consistent with our mission, values, and vision, which includes our work related to racial justice and decolonization. We will continue to share these advocacy efforts in our weekly eCommunity newsletter.

In addition to our policy advocacy, ACPA volunteer and staff leaders are continuously engaged in responding to current and changing contexts in a variety of ways:

• Our leadership structure includes the Public Policy & Governmental Affairs Task Force, charged with scanning and evaluating the political landscape, and developing strategies to address the concerns, issues, and challenges to members related to political and legislative activities. The Task Force intends to offer frequent public policy update webinars and virtual member gatherings throughout 2025, similar to the recent webinar offered to all members on Wednesday, 9 April.
• ACPA Entity Groups provide meaningful opportunities to connect around shared interests, identities, functional areas, geographic regions, and career levels. From webinars to conferences, their events address timely topics impacting members across higher education. Upcoming activities are featured in the “Upcoming Events” section of the weekly eCommunity newsletter. April and May 2025 offer a variety of special community events, giving you many ways to engage with ACPA Entity Groups this spring.
• As we come across resources that may support you in your work or in serving students, we will continue to share them through multiple channels—including the ACPA website, social media, Association emails, and the weekly eCommunity newsletter. Below are a few resources we hope you’ve already found helpful or will find valuable as you navigate current and future challenges.
  • Higher Education & The Trump Administration – Resources created in response to President Trump’s executive orders related to higher education compiled by the American Council on Education.
  • U.S. Department of Education Office for Civil Rights Frequently Asked Questions About Racial Preferences and Stereotypes Under Title VI of the Civil Rights Act – A follow-up FAQ document intended to answer questions following the February 14, 2025 Dear Colleague Letter.
  • Protecting Higher Education – A Communications Toolkit: Speak Up for Higher Education – A website created and maintained by the National Education Association offering resources across a variety of public policy topics important to higher education.
  • dotEDU Live (March 20, 2025 episode): What the Department of Education Layoffs Mean for Colleges and Universities – A podcast recording covering a range of recent U.S. federal government activities affecting higher education. 

Student Affairs Now (March 27, 2025 episode): Current Campus Context: Federal Student Aid, Institutional Autonomy & Associations’ Push Back – A podcast recording addressing the impacts of attempts by the Trump Administration to fundamentally change colleges and universities.

In times of great challenge for higher education, the associations that serve and support our field also feel the impact. That’s why your continued connection to our profession and to one another matters more than ever. In moments like these, we find strength in community: through compassion, shared purpose, and meaningful connections.

ACPA is here for you. We genuinely want to understand what you need and how we can help you during uncertain times. We depend on the dedication of our current and future members to help us sustain our mission—to advocate, to educate, and to provide the resources that keep our work moving forward. If you are able, we ask that you prioritize your membership renewals, engagement in ACPA involvement and entity communities, and participation in association webinars, institutes, and conventions. If you’re facing barriers to engagement, we welcome your feedback and hope to find creative ways to stay connected. Please email us at info@acpa.nche.edu or contact a member of the ACPA Leadership Council or International Office . Together, we will continue to build the future of higher education with care, courage, and community at the center.

Thank you for all you are doing to support your students, colleagues, institutional leaders, and campus community.