Category: Flourishing

When the save-the-date from my son’s fraternity landed in my inbox, I was confused. I had never heard of a “Mom’s Weekend.” His older siblings hadn’t participated in the Greek system in college. The email mentioned a few activities and reminded us to bring a contribution for the silent auction. Photos of past baskets were attached to guide our creativity: a customized Yeti cooler filled with beer; a margarita-themed bucket with cactus-shaped glasses, limes, and a handle of tequila; a poker-motif basket with cards, bourbon, whiskey, and cigars.

Mom’s (and Dad’s) Weekend, I learned, is a tradition in the Greek system. It’s an opportunity to have special time with your student and get to know their friends during a number of planned activities. This is no small thing for mothers adjusting to seeing far less of their children, feeling your role in their daily life fade, to some extent, into the background of a Facetime square. Our Mom’s Weekend schedule was pretty open, with just a handful of organized social events, among them a cocktail-reception-house-tour, followed by a pub night, mimosa brunch, and silent auction, with proceeds benefiting chapter activities. 

I’m not a drinker, but all of it was a welcome window into my son’s freshman experience, more than a thousand miles from home. I decided to make it a road trip and visit family along the way. I gassed up the car and packed up my auction contribution — a barbecue-themed basket of grill utensils, spices, and sauces. (Sorry boys, not that kind of sauce.)

But I was coming into the weekend carrying more than my basket. My own experience at a small university was one where fraternities played an outsized role in campus culture and where, as editor of the newspaper, I was drawn by a campus controversy into the darker aspects of Greek loyalty. But that was then; this is now. I was hopeful I would come away from Mom’s Weekend with the sense that belonging to a fraternity today, in its more modern form, represented a positive opportunity for community among young men, including my son.

He is a private person, and I had only the vaguest idea of how his pledging process had gone earlier in the spring. Because he hadn’t participated in many of the fall rush activities — meaning, he hadn’t let it dominate his orientation to college social life — his options were limited, though he said the house he’d joined was “chill” with “good guys.” In his shorthand, that meant the parties weren’t the craziest, or the members too intense about their demands on his time. His grades were good, he had a steady girlfriend in his dorm, and nothing about the road to initiation had set off alarm bells at least from our parental perspective. We’d gotten a letter from the fraternity president assuring parents that they took their anti-hazing vows seriously.

***

During my own senior spring in college, I was working with the newspaper staff late one night to close an issue when the telephone rang on the office wall. An anonymous caller claimed to have recently broken into a secretive fraternity’s notorious windowless chapel and stolen decades of ledgers. In the pages, long-ago members had allegedly recorded their thoughts and activities, and over the years, generations of brothers had added notes the margins. The caller offered to bring me the ledgers.

At the time, I had only an English major’s best guess at the intricacies of journalistic freedoms and liabilities, something I would later study as part of a master’s degree in my chosen field. But I suspected I should not accept original stolen materials. So the caller made photocopies and left them in my car. There were references to some unsolved crimes on campus, chilling racial commentary, coded language about sexual encounters, and hazing episodes that had taken an alarming turn. More recent entries addressed changing rules and attitudes on campus and vowed that if the house were compelled to “build bridges,” they should only give enough lip service to remain the same. I began writing an article and called university administrators to let them know. They didn’t tell me I couldn’t run the piece. But they did advise against it and said they couldn’t insulate me from repercussions. 

After the article appeared, the rallies and protests began. There were calls to suspend or ban the fraternity and some to eliminate the Greek system on campus, a move that had been raised for years. Fraternity and sorority members pointed to the benefits of bonding and the charitable deeds done. The fraternity’s alumni leaders flew in with lawyers and investigators, determined to find out who had been behind the theft. I laid low. It wasn’t my place to offer opinions or get involved in debates. But I’d taken the call and written the article, and my car tire was slashed, and the university house where I lived as an RA had a window broken. I heard the fraternity’s legal team wanted to speak with me, but there was never a subpoena. The state’s shield law protected journalists’ right not to reveal their sources, but whether that covered university students remained to be seen. My father asked me to keep a low profile because he’d rather not take out a second mortgage to explore that precedent in court. 

Things quieted down a few weeks later when students left campus for the summer, but the fallout went on for years. The fraternity was suspended, moved to private property, and went underground. The faculty voted to abolish the Greek system, but the motion was symbolic and not supported by the administration. After I graduated, I received a manilla envelope in the mail with a printed list of companies that supposedly would never hire me. A year later, after I’d begun working at a magazine, I had a surprise visit. The receptionist said an industry publicist had arrived for an appointment and buzzed a man inside. He sat down in my cubicle, pulled a tape recorder out of his briefcase (there was once a thing called a briefcase), and started asking questions about the night I received the call at the newspaper office. 

***

Then and now, the takeaway for me about the Greek system is this: What happens when impressionable young adults join societies like these? Membership fosters group loyalty through a secretive selection and initiation process, rituals, identity, and language. To what extent is that loyalty inclined to supersede the individual morality these young people are still developing? This is the place where you live and (literally, with fraternity cooks) the hand that feeds you. These are the people you spend your weekends with, gravitate towards in classes, and have likely committed to live with going forward. Brotherhood, and all the ways that is entwined in your life, is a lot of your world. 

Loyalty is a funny thing when you live smack in the middle of it. It isn’t just a friendship where you go out for pizza and play video games, particularly if something doesn’t sit right in this new family-away-from-home. If we stick with the video game metaphor, you’ve been initiated by the people who created the world-building behind it. That shared game is your universe, and it feels like everyone in other Greek organizations have their own, too. The roles and personas and tones are set, whether it’s inside jokes or repeated stories, or old ledgers. 

The experiences you have in college, positive and negative, go on to shape your character and identity, as well as your resilience in the face of adversity. The lessons learned during these years contribute to making you you — either because of the environment, or in spite of it. A college’s atmosphere set by the administration and faculty can make the difference between a student feeling like their school has their back, or doesn’t. Mine didn’t. 

The lessons learned during these years contribute to making you you — either because of the environment, or in spite of it.

Mom’s Weekend was, to me, a smashing success, in part because most of what we did together existed beyond the footprint of the “weekend” itself. My son and I did a few of the organized activities, and I met some of his new fraternity brothers. But we skipped the bar crawls, and because it was too rainy to hike, went to the gym to work out. We had a delightful three-hour dinner at a local restaurant, and I got to know his lovely, down-to-earth girlfriend. She described for me her own pledging process, the pressure from sororities to present a cool image that’s your own impeccable brand, right down to a written statement about yourself and proof of a masterful social media presence. She is pursuing a demanding major and seemed to have kept pledging in perspective, though she saw it wreak havoc on others. A few weeks after Mom’s Weekend, I saw a story in the news that a fraternity at my son’s school had just been suspended for 40 years — though it was later revised to 15 — for repeatedly violating hazing rules while they were already on probation. They had been paddling pledges at the off-campus home of an alum. 

My son has confided to his father that he’s had some mild pressure from upperclassmen who say he doesn’t spend enough time at the house. He’s already committed to living in the fraternity during his sophomore year and, just recently, also in his junior year at one of the fraternity’s off-campus annexes. He tells us that kind of advance signing is required so that the brotherhood can retain its hold on valuable rentals. I’ve long felt that my boy is his own dog and doesn’t roll over to social pressure when he has a solid home base. Still, it’s not lost on me that this housing commitment years into the future in effect makes the fraternity the primary scaffolding of his college experience. This, before he’s even declared his major. That’s a lot of clout for an organization to have over my kid, an organization I can’t say I know much of anything about. I guess I can say that the house was pretty clean during the tour.

And yet. Another part of my maternal brain knows that belonging is so important to young people’s sense of connection and community. My son’s age-cohort was the one that entered high school remotely as the pandemic did its damage, and part of that damage was their dislocation from their peers and their academic world, slouched in front of Zoom, hoodies up. The last thing I want for him is isolation. What I do want for him is the development of a discerning character — steady in his sense of himself and true to his values, whoever he’s with, whatever they are doing. 

Leaving dinner that night, my son and I decided not to go to “around the clock” at the favorite local bar, where pitchers started off in the single digits in the afternoon, then go up by a dollar every hour. I dropped him and his girlfriend back at their dorm, then headed back toward my rental house. But first I had to stop back at the restaurant, where I’d forgotten my umbrella. 

I parked as close as I could on a side street behind the main drag of town, home to many of the annexes like the one by son had just committed to for his junior year. Just in front of me, a group of laughing young men weaved on and off the sidewalk, shirtless in the 40-degree torrential rain. From the other side of the street, another group called out to them, chanting something about… I don’t know what, but it seemed to be positive, or maybe they were mad. They ran and crashed into each other in the middle of the street with perfectly executed chest bumps, delighted or angry, yelling things I couldn’t understand. I gave them a wide berth, more than happy to be an inconsequential NPC in the background of their game. 

When I returned to the rental, my two housemate-moms were hanging out in the living room with their sons, watching basketball and eating popcorn. They’d gone to “around the clock,” then wanted to come back and chill at the farmhouse and watch TV. As the rain pounded the windows and wind threw the screen door back and forth, the four slouched, wrapped in blankets on a sectional in the dark room, ageless in comfortable silence. 

Here at LearningWell, we are always interested in new approaches university leaders take to foster community on campus—with students, among students, and within the faculty and administration. So our ears pricked up when, at a recent gathering of educators, we heard Connie Book, the president of Elon University, speak about her practice of ambushing parents with good news phone calls. 

We asked her to expand on this and other things she does to help cultivate connection. Her experience and insights tap into her years as the first female provost and dean at The Citadel, a military college in Charleston, S.C., and far earlier to her own upbringing in a large family as the sixth of nine children.

LW: I heard you speak recently about your Friday phone calls to parents of students who’d done something noteworthy. I love this idea of catching students in the act of doing something good. Can you tell us more about it? 

CB: Sometimes it’s when they’ve done something like won an academic award, but other times it’s when they’ve taken on some role on campus, like they’re on a committee or helping us with something new that we’re trying to accomplish. Or sometimes it’s just students that I think, Oh, he’s really interesting. He just makes the student body more present. It’s such an easy thing to do. The parents are always grateful, and the kids are, too.

I do it on Friday afternoons because at the end of a long week, Fridays can be a day that some unpleasant things get dumped before the weekend. When I worked at The Citadel, the military guys would never take appointments on Friday afternoons because they said that’s when the second lieutenants came in and wanted to dump the problems on them, and they didn’t want to let this ruin their weekend. So it’s my realization that my Fridays could, depending on what was going on campus, really stage either a terrible weekend or a relaxing weekend. So I started being a lot more intentional about Friday afternoons. 

LW: As a mother of college kids myself, I imagine it could be really moving for a parent to get that call. Can you give us an example?

CB: The first call I made was in my second year here at Elon when one of our first-generation college students won a Goldwater Award. If you’re in higher ed, you understand what that means. But I thought, I think her parents don’t even realize what a significant achievement that was. So I just decided on Friday afternoon, I had the staff pull her record, and I called her father. They see the out-of-state area code for the university come up on their phone, so the first thing I say is, “Your child is healthy and fine and not in trouble.” Just to get all that off the table. I did have such a powerful conversation with him that day. It felt so good to share with him what a remarkable daughter he had and that she was doing such good things, and then explain what the Goldwater was and how much our community here enjoyed having her. And then he shared about all the hard work she had done to get to college from the time she was very young. It was a conversation about the hard work that young people do to make sure they have a good opportunity, the process, and the appreciation when scholarships come through and they can afford college. Just leaving home from Arizona to come to Elon was a risk. After I hung up, I thought, Wow, I should do this more often because it was driving my sense of mission and purpose about the work. You can get so wrapped up in politics or budgeting or some other challenge that it can be a barrier to really feeling the mission, and on those calls, I feel the mission and the impact it’s having. 

LW: What are some other ways you make yourself more present for the student body? Do I recall hearing you mention something about Ping-Pong?

CB: Yes. Friday is my day to connect with students. So I play table tennis at one o’clock for an hour. They sign up on a whiteboard. There’s always a line there to play. Students will say, “This was on my bucket list, to come play with you before I graduated.” I have parents show up, because they’ve heard I do it, and they’re good at it. So they’re like, “Oh, the next time I’m on campus, I want to play the president.”

LW: And how did this activity occur to you? 

CB: When my son was in middle school, he really started answering every question with one word answers. “Yes. No.” I could not get him to talk about anything. So I told him that winter, let’s bring the Ping-Pong table inside. We had played occasionally, but we started playing every day. And then I noticed that because you talk when you play, he would start talking more after a couple of sets. 

That’s true with the students here, too. I’ll always say, “Well, what’s your major? Where are you from?” And we get talking. My son now is an Olympic-rated table tennis player, so I know how to play, and I like to win. If they have a good hit and beat me, I’m always like, “Aaand … What’s your name again?”

LW: So this game isn’t just a walk in the park! But that is true about communication with teens, having that shared activity to get you talking. 

CB: I actually do walks with students, too, a couple of times a semester. I’ll invite student groups, post where I’m going, and anybody can show up and join us. What’s really funny about that is that students, when they see where I’m going to be, sometimes they do come to lobby me for different things. I had some theater students ask for a budget increase. It’s almost like I had a little tracker on me. “Yeah, we know where she is.”

LW: Ha! Future politicians. What about community building with faculty, staff, administration? Do you have strategies for outreach with them as well?

CB: I would say our culture is pretty open already. Like last week, I had two faculty conversations that I announced literally on Monday and had them on Friday. And I always have audience microphones. I have three suggestion boxes on campus and an online one where anybody can tell me anything.

LW: Are they used? 

CB: Yes. And they do tell me anything. Some are like, “The doorknobs are broken here.” But they are usually about things that make the workplace or the learning environment better. “Have you considered doing this?” 

I am a believer in letting people know you are open, saying to them essentially, “Hey, if you see something, let me know because I can’t see what you can see.” It may not create the solution they have in mind. Bring me the problem, but don’t get too wedded to the solution. They have to be open to us problem-solving together. 

LW: Do you have an example of some kind of problem brought to you that way?

CB: We have an ombuds program here for the faculty. It’s very official. You have to do the training. We pay a stipend. But one of the staff people that serves as the ombuds also happens to be an employee in Human Resources. And people said, “I’m not comfortable going to HR to talk to the ombuds person because it’s supposed to be a confidential unit.” I had never thought of that because we have been doing this through HR for a long time, and it never occurred to me that people saw that as a disciplinary unit so that there was hesitancy. We did add another ombuds person to the mix. And we worked together on the job description to give people more choice. 

LW: What kinds of things did you learn from the requests coming into the ombuds person? 

CB: What was really powerful about that is that I was always thinking it was workplace disagreements, but I learned a lot that people need somebody to talk to about personal challenges. They were coming to her for things like food insecurity, car repairs. And I was like, Wow, it’s almost like pastoral care. We have on-site counseling services for students but not employees. So it was a good learning moment for me as well. 

LW: Is that going to spark any kind of a change in the way you offer counseling services or pastoral services for employees? 

CB: It could. We have a chaplain here, and the chaplain has an emergency fund. Part of it was letting the ombuds person know they have a resource in the chaplain, who can help. But for some people, religion might be a barrier, too. 

LW: Is there anything else you’d like to add about community building? We’re at a very difficult moment nationally—both socially and politically, as well as educationally. Is there anything you do at Elon to break down barriers? 

CB: Well, we have 7,000 students on campus at Elon, and there’s a longstanding community dead-period—a time where you don’t have any classes—on Tuesday and Thursday mornings around 10 o’clock. On Tuesdays, we have College Coffee—free coffee and donuts outside when the weather is good—and there’s always several hundred people that come. And then on Thursdays, we have a spiritual program with singing. We’re not religiously affiliated. We’re independent. But there’s certainly a really vibrant feeling with multiple faiths represented. 

Also, we have a street that runs down the middle of campus, and during really difficult times, we will put a chalkboard out there. The day after the election, for example, we put up boards inviting the hopes that students had about the future. Politically, we don’t overly lean one way or the other, so the responses were really down the middle. Like, “There’s happiness for all to find joy in every day.” Or, “Strength and unity. God is good. We can all love and accept each other, no questions asked.” And then we kept them up in the student union for several weeks. I decided to take some pictures of them because every now and then I like to remember that part of what we’re doing on college campuses is the critical work of a future that we won’t be alive to witness, but we are planting all these seeds for a really strong future for all of us all around the world. To me, that is purpose-driven work. And I like to pull it out and be reminded.

“I like to remember that part of what we’re doing on college campuses is the critical work of a future that we won’t be alive to witness.”

LW: You have a very insightful and empathic way of talking about students and the experience of leading a university, something people might not expect to evolve from working in a military environment. How did you come by this mindset? 

CB: That’s a really good question. Growing up in my own family, I’m number six of nine kids, and both of my parents were educators. I think about all the great lessons of sharing and compromise and negotiation that you learn in a family. I think one of the things as a president that I think a lot about is that I see and witness things. And then my job is often to tell the story of that to people who influence the resources and regulatory policy that shape the world we live in on campus. 

LW: Thank you for that plug for the benefits of a large family. I have five children, but it doesn’t always feel like the world sees that as a positive. 

CB: Oh yeah, the good lessons of humility, of being an equal and doing your part. My job was to do the laundry growing up, three loads a day. 

LW: The chore chart. And the role of fairness and truth-telling. And squabbling and learning to work it out. Those are powerful things.

CB: I have been really aware of the power of this witnessing piece. And so now I think I’m intentionally looking all the time, talking to parents, and wanting to be effective in sharing the power of the work that’s going on on college campuses. Especially at a time when the negative rhetoric is suggesting that it’s not needed and it’s not worth it. Yet we all know 99 percent of what we’re experiencing on a college campus is good and powerful. 

In the following excerpt of his upcoming white paper, Richard Miller, president emeritus of Olin College for Engineering, lays out key traits and behaviors of “good character” that correlate with wellbeing. Teaching these qualities in the classroom, Miller suggests, may help all students thrive in life and career. How exactly to “teach” character, however, is less straightforward and will require research. The full paper, out next week, will include a full list of references to all research invoked.

There is ample evidence from multiple sources that an array of attitudes, behaviors, and beliefs correlate well with wellbeing in life, both for individuals and for societies. These include traits long associated with good character including gratitude, generosity toward others, forgiveness, humility, integrity, honesty and trustworthiness. While it may appear that these elelements of character have lost their preeiminece in a society so seemingly tolerant of their absence, the connection of personal and collective wellbeing to character may help re-establish it as something worth teaching and practicing. 

There are many questions here for higher education including whether character should be among the goals of transformational education approaches, which are strongly tied to outcomes such as belonging, agency, purpose and meaning. In many cases, the evidence on character and wellbeing comes from research in positive psychology, but other fields are also involved, including medicine, political science, economics, sociology, and public safety. While this evidence is largely from correlation and may not necessarily be causative, it indicates that there are many potential educational experiences within the character domain capable of producing enhancement to lifelong wellbeing.

However, this only intensifies the need for experimentation with different pedagogical approaches to determine if and how these characteristics may be successfully “taught” or inspired in student populations in ways that result in lasting wellbeing after the college experience. In general, this research will require diligent assessment with reliable metrics that are nationally normed. As we continue to track evidence of the impact of character on wellbeing, we do so within the context of it becoming dispensable at a time when it is most urgent. 

Considering Life Goals. A recent survey of millennials found that over 80% list becoming rich among their major life goals, and another 50% of those same millennials list becoming famous as another major life goal. Apparently, there is also a strong belief among college students today that becoming rich and famous will lead to a good life. This is not new.

But scientific evidence from the Harvard Study of Adult Development—one of the most comprehensive studies in history—indicates that people who invest in long-term relationships based on trust, respect, and compassion have the highest levels of wellbeing throughout life—independent of wealth, fame, or other measures of success. On the other hand, wealth and fame are actually orthogonal to happiness. They don’t make you happy or unhappy. However, the pursuit of those things at the expense of pursuing human connection makes people less happy and less healthy.

As a result, promoting early conversations with college students about what it means to create a “good life” with long-term wellbeing is likely an important preliminary step in developing learning experiences in higher education that result in improvements in long-term outcomes for alumni. Educating students about the difference between dedicating oneself to accumulating wealth and fame—or, on the other hand, seeking life-long wellbeing, which has more dimensions—may be an important step that we can take to improve long-term outcomes. Students can’t address a problem they aren’t aware of.  

Although there are several competent definitions of long-term wellbeing, the most accepted may be the one adopted by Gallup (after 80 years of research) that has been used in ranking the world’s happiest countries. It involves five dimensions: career, social, financial, physical, and community wellbeing. This longitudinal Gallup data provides the only available opportunity to explore the long-term impact of learning experiences we implement today. These are obtained by correlation studies with the Gallup data to extrapolate into future decades.  

However, when reviewing the evidence for character and ethics in promoting wellbeing, the lack of available longitudinal data in this area from the Gallup surveys requires that we broaden our review and consider evidence from multiple sources. This evidence is included in the current summary to illustrate what we know about good character and ethical behavior as it correlates with wellbeing.

Gratitude. Research strongly suggests that practicing gratitude is associated with improved wellbeing and mental health. Gratitude is linked to increased happiness, reduced stress, and better overall emotional wellbeing. 

Research indicates that gratitude improves wellbeing in several ways, including reducing stress and anxiety by lowering stress hormones like cortisol, leading to decreased anxiety and improved mood. Gratitude also can be shown to boost self-esteem and confidence by recognizing and appreciating the positive aspects of your life that can counteract negative self-talk and foster self-acceptance. Expressing gratitude further improves relationships by strengthening bonds and fostering positive interactions. Gratitude practices can promote relaxation and reduce worries, contributing to better sleep, while improving resilience. Finally, regularly expressing gratitude can shift your focus towards the good in your life, leading to increased happiness and contentment.

Altruism and Generosity. It is not difficult to find evidence for many elements that would be considered within “good character and ethical behavior” that correlate well with a good life—altruism and generosity, for example. Evidence shows that spending money on others promotes happiness. One widely cited study showed that spending money on others produced greater happiness than accumulating more money for oneself. In addition, it showed that participants who were randomly assigned to spend money on others experienced greater happiness than those who were assigned to spend money on themselves. Another larger, more recent study reached the same empirical conclusion based on a sample size of more than 5,000 participants. 

Extensive research on the science of generosity has been produced at the Greater Good Science Center at the University of California at Berkeley. The research conducted and monitored there further confirms the positive benefits of engagement in altruistic activity and generosity on health and wellbeing in several dimensions.  

Forgiveness. Research shows that forgiveness can promote wellbeing in several ways. For example, forgiveness can improve mental health by reducing symptoms of depression, anxiety, and stress. It can also improve self-esteem and promote a sense of flourishing. In addition, forgiveness can improve physical health by lowering blood pressure, improving cholesterol levels, and reducing pain. It can also strengthen the immune system and improve heart health. Forgiveness can also lead to healthier relationships and can be a form of coping that helps alleviate perceptions of stress.

Forgiveness interventions can be effective in promoting mental wellbeing. For example, one study found that participants who completed a self-directed forgiveness intervention workbook saw improvements in their ability to forgive, as well as reductions in depression and anxiety symptoms. Interventions in forgiveness can involve letting go of anger, resentment, and negative past events; realizing that the best revenge is no revenge; living in the present and learning from the past; hoping and planning for the future; and acknowledging the wrongdoer as a moral agent who has failed but respecting the perpetrator’s perspective.

Humility. Humility involves acknowledging one’s limitations, accepting feedback, and being open to learning from others without excessive pride or arrogance. Research suggests that humility is strongly related to increased wellbeing and mental health, including lower rates of depression and anxiety. Humility helps buffer the effects of stress on wellbeing, leading to lower levels of stress and anxiety. Humble individuals are more likely to have a realistic understanding of their strengths and weaknesses, leading to greater self-awareness. 

Integrity. Though there are unlimited interpretations of the word, “integrity” is commonly accepted to refer to people who act with authenticity and honesty by speaking the truth; presenting themselves in a genuine way with sincerity; showing no pretense; and taking responsibility for their own feelings and actions. Research indicates that integrity promotes wellbeing by fostering trust, reducing stress, enhancing job satisfaction, facilitating healthy relationships, and fostering a positive organizational culture where employees can thrive. Furthermore, studies link “strong moral character” (i.e.,integrity) with reduced risk for depression, anxiety, and cardiovascular disease.

Honesty. Research and studies suggest that honesty significantly promotes wellbeing, both mental and physical. Honesty fosters trust and strong relationships. When you are honest, you build trust with others, leading to stronger relationships with friends, family, and colleagues. This trust is crucial for building healthy and supportive relationships, which are essential for wellbeing. Honesty reduces stress and anxiety, promotes self-esteem and self-acceptance, enhances mental and emotional wellbeing, improves physical health, and promotes openness and communication. However, there are situations in which being completely honest may result in hurting someone’s feelings, or in the case of speaking truth to power, might bring retribution.

Trustworthiness. Research indicates trustworthiness is strongly linked to improved wellbeing, both individually and within communities. Trust fosters a sense of safety and security, which is fundamental for mental and emotional wellbeing. When individuals trust others, they feel less anxious and more confident in their relationships and interactions. Trust promotes healthy relationships and social connections; contributes to better mental health outcomes; can improve physical health; is essential for building and maintaining healthy communities; and is particularly relevant in healthcare settings and in the workplace. In summary, trustworthiness contributes to a greater sense of security, belonging, and wellbeing, both for individuals and communities.

Influence on Community

Most of the evidence presented above is derived from studies of wellbeing in individuals that might result from attitudes, behaviors, and beliefs derived from good character and ethical behavior. However, there are similar correlations between these factors at the macro or societal level, too. Research shows that the social environment significantly impacts ethical behavior. Individuals are influenced by the norms, values, and expectations prevalent within their social circles, which can shape their perceptions of what is considered right or wrong. An illustration of the macro correlations is provided by comparing the list of the world’s happiest countries, determined by Gallup using their wellbeing index, with the list of the world’s most corrupt countries, as determined by the Corruption Perceptions Index published annually by Transparency International. It is striking that these rankings reveal an obvious inverse correlation across the globe between the happiest countries and the most corrupt countries. For example, Denmark and Finland are ranked at the top of the happiest countries by Gallup, and they are also ranked as the least corrupt countries in the independent ranking by Transparency International.

An Imperative for Higher Education

The evidence presented here makes clear that several elements of good character and ethical behavior are well correlated with enhanced health and wellbeing in both individuals and communities and society at large. These elements may therefore be considered candidates for introducing new learning experiences in higher education aimed at improving life-long wellbeing in college graduates. This opens the door to investigate faculty-driven innovations in higher education that are intended to promote the development of these characteristics in college graduates in hope that this will contribute to improved long-term outcomes for all enrolled students in the future.

The evidence presented here makes clear that several elements of good character and ethical behavior are well correlated with enhanced health and wellbeing in both individuals and communities and society at large.

However, much remains to be determined. While there clearly are many new possible learning experiences that promise to enhance wellbeing, the magnitude of the impact of each of these—both immediate and long-term—is, as yet, undetermined. Some may prove to be more effective than anything that we know about at this point, but many others are likely to prove insignificant in improving wellbeing later in life, depending on how they are defined, taught, and promoted. The only way to determine this is through experimentation and assessment. 

It is our hope that faculty at many institutions will take the lead in developing pilot projects and experiments to explore these issues and share their findings broadly so everyone may learn what works best. This includes not only experimentation with the core ideas behind the intervention but also the pedagogical process used to implement them at scale in a variety of academic institutions.

This will inevitably involve research and experimentation in pedagogical innovation. For example, it is not clear how to “teach” honesty and integrity so that these values and behaviors are internalized and treasured by all graduates for a lifetime. Assessment will play an indispensable role in guiding the process of developing these interventions to the point of demonstrated effectiveness. Only when effectiveness can be demonstrated by objective data shared with others can we be assured that programs are achieving their intended purpose. Ideally, the assessments will be based on nationally normed tools that correlate with long-term wellbeing, such as the longitudinal data developed by Gallup over decades of measurement in this area.

In making the case for the inclusion of character and ethics in higher education towards improved wellbeing, it would be careless not to state the context for which we make the argument. It is fair to say that each of the pillars we have explored here—including integrity, truth, humility, and altruism—are declining within the collective tissue of our society today. One example is the recent report of the decline of effectiveness of student honor codes at some of our best universities. The paucity of what character scholars call “moral exemplars” is particularly disturbing. The most effective defense against such erosion of character and ethics in society is provided by strong and consistent attention to character formation in the young. Higher education has an opportunity to help build character and instill ethical behavior in its students for the benefit of their long-term wellbeing and that of society overall.  

Ellise LaMotte, Tufts University’s Associate Provost for Student Success, knows how difficult college can be, particularly if you feel you don’t belong. Where she now works to connect all kinds of students with the support they need to succeed, she once felt utterly alone as a Black woman in a predominantly White, male field.   

LaMotte says the early setbacks she experienced as a first-year engineering student only made her more determined to make it in technology, business, and academia. After graduating from Northeastern University with an engineering degree, she spent years in telecommunications, earning a master’s and then a Ph.D., after working at Babson College. That led to a position at Olin College of Engineering, where she came full circle, realizing she had arrived at a position to make a difference in the STEM space for students, especially underrepresented ones. 

In this interview for LearningWell, LaMotte discusses what motivated her to continually move forward in school and life, starting with her desire to make her parents proud. 

LW: Has education always been important to you?

LaMotte: Growing up in my household, I honestly thought there was a law on the books requiring everyone to attend college. That stemmed from my dad. He had a great work ethic and expected us to have the same. Our only responsibility was to work hard on our education. He was determined to ensure that my brother and I attended college and were going to be successful and self-sufficient.  

So, my first motivation for attending college and pursuing advanced degrees was simple: to make my parents proud and to make sure I took advantage of their hard work.

As I grew older, I excelled in math and science—and, more importantly, I liked the subjects. The first time we dissected a cow’s heart, I was all in, and math was like a game I wanted to win. Everyone around me told me I could become an engineer and could make a lot of money. That advice led me to attend Northeastern University in Boston.

LW: What was that experience like?

LaMotte: It was very different. I grew up in Jamaica, Queens, New York, in a predominantly Black and brown neighborhood, and suddenly, I found myself in spaces where I was in the minority all day long—usually the only woman and the only black person. That change of environment started playing out in my head, reinforcing the messages I always heard: “You have to be twice as good. You have to work twice as hard.”

I was determined to succeed, but I didn’t know how. My freshman year was a disaster. I had never failed a class in my life, yet I failed physics. That alone was tough, but what made it worse was another physics professor, who was also my advisor, one day came over and asked me and the two other women in the class, “Why are you in my classroom?” Then, he flat-out told us, “You should go home to your moms and become nurses, or teachers.” Needless to say, I dropped the class.

LW: Wow. What got you through? 

LaMotte: First off, my self-determination was strong. Second, I joined a Black women’s engineering sorority, Sigma Beta Epsilon, Inc., and I saw that these women, who were not much older than me and who looked like me, were succeeding in engineering. This was another piece of my how-to-be-successful puzzle. I now had mentors who said to me, “You can do this.” Fast forward to today, and these women are my friends who have become family. Other puzzle pieces I discovered from the sorority members were how to study, how to use my time wisely, and how not to be afraid of faculty office hours. And with this encouragement, I got a lot braver. In every class, I sat in the “power” middle seat in the front row. I thought to myself, “If you are going to ignore me, then you are going to ignore me intentionally.” There was no doubt that my motivation in college and afterwards stemmed from the mantra, “I’m going to do this because you think I cannot.”

“I’m going to do this because you think I cannot.”

LW: What did you do after college?  

LaMotte: My first job out of college was with a telecommunications company, and compared to college, my experiences were similar. I was usually the only woman and only Black person in a management role. I supervised people who were older than me and who were mostly White men. One man said to me, “You are my granddaughter’s age. What can I learn from you?”  Another time, I was told to change my hairstyle from braids, which I did not, potentially costing me future advancement. Through it all, I learned a great deal during my years in telecommunication, and these lessons learned shaped me professionally. However, I ultimately found the corporate world unfulfilling. 

LW: How did you end up in academia? 

LaMotte: I moved out of the corporate world into the non-profit space, supporting women entrepreneurs as they grew their businesses. I enjoyed creating initiatives and programs that directly support the dreams of others. From there, I found my way into higher education. I was finishing my Ph.D. in Education when I got an opportunity to join Olin College of Engineering, working for the provost as the director of academic services. Olin is a very creative place, where I found community and found I could get involved in initiatives on campus supporting students. I thought this is what I was meant to do—to support students in STEM who are underrepresented so they can shine. Over time, I wanted to be more student-facing, and that was the impetus for my move to Tufts University. 

I would also like to add that I had many role models during my doctoral journey. My professors and in particular my dissertation chairperson Dr. Tara Parker were instrumental as I altered my motivation, from extrinsic to ones that were more intrinsic. I now set goals to satisfy my interests and passions, so I can focus on honing my skills to support students whether I am at work or in my community providing service.

So back to my Tufts University journey, my first role there as the Center for STEM Diversity director was a great experience and made me realize my goal was to provide support for a larger student population on campus. So that opportunity and others at Tufts grew into my current role as Associate Provost for Student Success, working directly with President Sunil Kamar, Vice President for Strategic Initiatives Marty Ray, and Vice Provost for Education Cigdem Talgar. In this role, I work collaboratively to develop initiatives and opportunities, so all Tufts students are succeeding and thriving, regardless of their backgrounds. We are always thinking and asking the question, “What programs or structures can we put in place to support students at varying levels so they can thrive?” 

LW: You’ve fulfilled so many of the goals that motivated you. I’m assuming you have made your family proud.

LaMotte: Oh yes. I mentioned my dad. He was my silent cheerleader, and my mother was my out-loud cheerleader. They were present for my college and graduate school graduations. My mom was present for my doctoral graduation. Even though my dad was not there physically, his spirit was, as he received a shout out from University of Massachusetts’ Chancellor Dr. J. Keith Motley during his welcome address. As for my own nuclear family, my daughter witnessed me working while attending school, and she has always been proud of me for my efforts. Thus, I believe I am a good role model for her. As for my husband, he supports me in whatever I want to accomplish, makes way for me to reach my goals, and says to me at every turn, “Just go for it.” So, I always do!