The Weight of the World

Imagine holding a backpack full of bricks. Each brick is something you’re told you should care about. “Speak up about racism.” “Be an entrepreneur.” “Get an internship.” “Fight for the planet.” “Be strong for your family.” “Post the right thing.” “Don’t mess up.” “Make a difference.”

No one tells you how to carry the backpack. No one teaches you how to take breaks. Or how to breathe. Or how to say, “I’m not okay.”

This is the silent story of so many students. We look fine on the outside, but inside we’re overwhelmed. We scroll on Instagram and see everyone achieving. We try to keep up. But no one posts their fears, their breakdowns, or their quiet days of doubt.

When I was a student, I often felt like I needed to be perfect. Get perfect grades. Land the dream job. Be kind, confident, smart, and calm — every single day. I felt like I had to fix things that were broken in the world. Climate change. Mental health. Inequality. And I wasn’t alone.

Over the last couple of years, I’ve had honest conversations with more than 200 students. What I heard wasn’t just stress. It was a quiet cry for help.

They said things like:

“I care about so many things, but I don’t know where to start.”

“I’m tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m falling behind.”

“I feel like I have to change the world, but no one showed me how to take care of me.”

We tell young people to lead movements, fix broken systems, and speak up for justice. But we forget to give them the tools to handle that pressure. We forget they’re still learning who they will be as people. And we rarely say, “You’re good and strong just as you are.” This isn’t just a college problem. It’s a people problem. It’s what happens when expectations grow louder than support.

This isn’t just a college problem. It’s a people problem. It’s what happens when expectations grow louder than support.

Let’s be clear: Stress isn’t always bad. Some stress is actually good for us. It pushes us to show up, to prepare, to grow. I have worked at startups, as well as big consulting firms like Deloitte and EY, and yes, everything you’ve heard is true. There’s pressure, deadlines, new problems every day. But I also saw something else. I saw how stress, when supported with teamwork, trust, and celebrating small wins, can make you stronger.

Some of my most demanding managers became my greatest teachers. I learned how to think fast, stay calm, and keep going because I wasn’t alone. I had people to guide me, challenge me, and remind me that growth doesn’t happen in silence. It happens when we reflect, learn, and lean on others.

That’s the difference between healthy stress and harmful stress. It’s about not just how much you carry but whether you feel supported during that time. When we never pause, when we never reflect or ask for help, stress turns into burnout. And burnout turns into breakdowns.

Action feels better than overthinking.

An important lesson I learned from my mentors and coaches who supported me in my journey is that purpose is what wakes you up. Not the buzz. Not the likes. Not the trends. Don’t wait for motivation. Build discipline.

It’s not about how strong you feel one day.

It’s about showing up, even when you don’t feel like it.

It’s about what you do again and again.

We don’t become leaders by talking. We grow by doing. And if young people are taught how to take small steps, one at a time, they build confidence. They take action. They shine.

I wish someone had told me sooner, so I’m amplifying these lessons here: 

Your journey doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s.

You can be both kind and bold.

Asking for help is a strength.

You don’t have to save the world alone.

We need to give youth these messages with tools and mentors that can back them up. We need to remind them that they matter as people, not just as achievers. We can create systems that support their growth, not just their performance. We can move from saying, “Take care of your mental health,” to actually showing them how. 

We tell them it’s not about being perfect. It’s about being present.

We don’t need a generation of burnt-out heroes. We need a generation of strong, kind, purpose-driven humans. That’s how we build a better world. And that’s how we shine. 

Deepanshi Bansal is a Babson College M.B.A. graduate (class of 2024) and founder of ShineQuo, a student-centered space combining action-oriented life coaching, peer support, and executive functioning support to build essential life skills for college and beyond.

Personal Politics

The two most visible student political groups at the University of Texas at Austin are also the most opposed.

“There’s College Republicans, which is rah-rah Republicans, and there’s College Democrats, which is rah-rah Democrats,” soon-to-be senior Carson Domey said. He gravitated towards neither and wondered how an in-between space could be so hard to come by among more than 40,000 undergraduates.

The 21-year-old eventually arrived at a solution, the Annette Strauss Institute for Civic Life, a leadership development group that promotes “people instead of partisanship.” The “room for exchange of ideas” drew him in, Domey said, but the difficulty getting there explains his interest in a new insight from the Harvard Youth Poll, a semi-annual, national survey from the Institute of Politics (IOP) at the Harvard Kennedy School. This spring’s poll, released in April, offers a window into youth politics, including that only 34 percent of young people who identify as Independent or unaffiliated report a sense of belonging, compared to 51 percent of Democrats and 56 percent of Republicans. 

This latest iteration of the Harvard poll homes in on the impact of mental health in more ways than one. When it comes to today’s youngest — and most anxious and depressed — voters, the intersection of personal wellbeing and political formation is the object of growing concern. 

In 2000, the Harvard Youth Poll emerged after two undergraduates noticed a curious trend among their classmates: They seemed interested in public service but also appeared to prefer community service activities over more traditional political engagement. Was there something different, the students wondered, about their generation’s relationship with politics?  

Was there something different, the students wondered, about their generation’s relationship with politics?  

To find out, they approached John Della Volpe, then-president of an opinion research firm with ties to the IOP, to help design and conduct a survey of their peers’ political attitudes and activities.

Fifty polls later, the project has stayed true to its original mission, although the form changes every time. Della Volpe, now director of polling at the IOP, said the different questions season-to-season reflect “each cohort’s unique views” and how “they’re interested in understanding perspectives of their generation.”

While the poll’s founders delved into trends in political engagement, the students of 2025 probed more personal categories. In addition to views on federal leadership, DEI initiatives, and foreign policy, this spring’s survey inquires about social connections, financial stress, and life goals.

One of the resounding themes this time is, as Carson Domey pointed out, feelings of belonging. Among its major findings, the final report highlights that fewer than half of respondents say they feel a sense of community, and only 17 percent feel “deeply connected” to a community.

From there, the survey correlates sense of belonging and civic engagement. Forty percent of those who report feeling “deeply connected” to a community say they consider themselves politically engaged, compared to 14 percent of those without a strong sense of belonging.

To Domey, the struggle for belonging among young Independents seems to reflect the impact of polarization on Gen Z and the longing for community and the pressure to identify with a party as a result. Party affiliation, from his standpoint, may have as much to do with political theory as want of personal connection. 

Party affiliation may have as much to do with political theory as want of personal connection. 

The Covid-19 pandemic certainly didn’t help these feelings of disconnect. One in five respondents to the Harvard poll indicate they became more socially isolated during the 2020 lockdown, and these people are in turn more likely to be dealing with symptoms of depression now — five years later.

Those at major transition points, either starting high school or college, during the initial quarantine are most likely to report a lasting negative impact on their social lives. They are now 19 and 23 years old, respectively. 

John Della Volpe said he is wary of the over-attribution of certain political trends among Gen Z to their experience during the pandemic. Yet the way that the emergency disrupted their lives is important, and all the more for being just one of many crises they’ve encountered so far.

For Della Volpe, the real eye opening moment on the weight so many young people carry came before the term “Covid-19” existed. He was conducting a focus group, not long after the 2016 mass shooting at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Fla. that left 49 killed and 53 wounded. 

“The way you think about your taxes or your finances,” one student told him, “that’s the way we think about living and dying every time we walk into a classroom.” 

Within around two years, the same young people read about, or perhaps witnessed, the white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, Va. during which a car attack killed one and injured 35 others, including students from the University of Virginia; the mass shooting at a concert in Las Vegas, Nev. that killed 58; and the mass shooting at a high school in Parkland, Fla. that killed 17 staff and students.

“This generation’s not monolithic, and everyone’s experience is different,” said Rachel Janfaza, a youth politics expert. “But across the board, it would be hard to say that their politics is not at least somewhat interwoven with the fact that they have grown up amid crisis, and it is taking a toll on their mental health.”

Overfamiliarity with catastrophe does seem to dovetail with another major finding of the Harvard survey: widespread disapproval and distrust in the government. Only 15 percent say they think the country is “heading in the right direction,” and 19 percent say they trust the federal government to do the right thing most or all the time.

This discontent does not discriminate by party. While Donald Trump’s approval rating is about the same (31 percent) as in 2017, approval of Democrats in Congress dropped from 42 to 23 percent.

Janfaza imagines young people have become suspicious that “adults, elected officials pretend to know what they’re doing and have it all figured out.” Following the trials of the Covid-19 pandemic, she said, “the curtain has been peeled back.” 

“What I will definitely say is there is a mass feeling of uncertainty that’s on both sides of the aisle.” Domey said. 

Now that uncertainty seems to be affecting young people’s plans for the future. In what might be the most important finding for generations to come, less than half of the Harvard poll respondents rated having children as “important.”  

This trend may be the result of financial anxiety, with a quarter of respondents saying they are “barely getting by.” But Janfaza mentioned a conglomeration of factors: “Less stigmatization around not wanting to have kids, paired with rising cost of living, and fear about climate change, and just overall gloom and doom.”

Still, if frustrated, Gen Z-ers are not resigned. “They are showing up. They are saying they want to be involved,” Janfaza said. “Their lives are affected by these issues in their communities, and they are speaking up and out about it in a number of ways.”

To Domey, the Harvard poll feels like a call to help students cultivate new sources of much-needed certainty in their lives, whether through community or other senses of purpose.

“Like, how do we care for the whole person in college?” he said.

Taking It to the States

For 20 years, the Louisiana Center Addressing Substance Use (LaCASU) had been making strides in its work supporting state colleges and universities struggling with drug and alcohol prevention efforts. By all accounts, LaCASU’s research, training, and data collection made strong contributions to treatment and recovery at Louisiana State University and beyond. But gaining real traction, not to mention funding, required the power and gravitas of merging with an official state government body.

“My emails went over a little bit different coming from a board of regents email address,” Dr. Allison Smith, former associate director at LaCASU, half-joked to a crowd in Baltimore, Md. on April 23. She was participating in a panel discussion at the conference, “Building Resilience and Success: State and System-Level Mental Health Innovations,” hosted by SHEEO (State Higher Education Executive Officers Association) and The Jed Foundation.

In an age when federal funding is uncertain, campus leaders are looking for novel sources of state-based support for student mental health. The conference in Baltimore highlighted a number of ideas, options, and success stories. A new resource guide, “Engaging State Policymakers to Support College Student Mental Health,” presented by the American Council on Education (ACE), offers more to take home. 

“It was sort of like, well, in the current administration, where does it make sense to direct our energy?” said Hollie Chessman, director and principal program officer at ACE. “How do we continue to move the needle on mental health on our nation’s campuses?” The answer, she found, was rooted in pulling the right (state) policy levers.

“In the current administration, where does it make sense to direct our energy? How do we continue to move the needle on mental health on our nation’s campuses?”

While data suggests small improvements trending in some aspects of mental health in college students, anxiety and depression remain rampant. The 2024 Healthy Minds Study reported depression and anxiety symptoms had decreased three and two points, respectively, compared to the previous year. Yet 38 percent of students still reported struggling with depression, and 34 percent with anxiety.

The scale of the issue, which escalated year-over-year from 2007 to 2022, has drawn concern from both sides of the political aisle. Several bills promoting mental health interventions on college campuses, and at all education levels, have received bipartisan support in recent years. In 2022, the aptly titled Bipartisan Safer Communities Act, including initiatives targeting the reduction of gun violence, passed with $1 billion earmarked for school mental health services. In April, the Trump administration canceled this funding

Chessman and her colleagues at ACE had been worried about this kind of fallout for student mental health programs. In 2024, they were spearheading a $13.8 billion bill to back research, training, and other services at universities. This year, they refocused their attention on other projects, including a toolkit to illustrate a pragmatic route towards a solution. 

Coalescing with peers provided the path forward. Talks with a mental health coalition of leaders in the field, such as the American Psychological Association, Active Minds, and the Healthy Minds Network, revealed a gap ACE might fill: The experts were anticipating a pivot towards state-level advocacy, but needed direction on how to go about it. “From that conversation,” said Ngan Nguyen, ACE government relations associate, “we started to think about drafting a toolkit.” Nguyen and her co-associate Alexander Cassell became the lead authors.

The final guide features four main parts. First comes an emphasis on data collection to specify campus needs, with links to surveys for assessing mental health and a Return on Investment Calculator for College Mental Health Services and Programs. Then, the toolkit outlines a series of talking points. The first point covers the prevalence of mental health issues and their implications for college attrition and basic needs insecurity. Others home in on the interventions state funding in particular can promote, and the benefits of telehealth. The third and longest section delves into examples of work other institutions have done in partnership with states to advance mental health. The fourth lays out a final host of resources, including other organizations and assessment tools, to further university advocacy efforts. 

One of the main goals, and challenges, of designing the toolkit was ensuring relevance across states and for a range of professionals and institutions, Nguyen said. She thought about whether the strategies would be helpful for campuses in a variety of political climates; for those just launching advocacy efforts and others far along in the process; for university higher-ups, as well as general staff and students. The tools needed to be easy to customize.

 “The toolkit gives folks a really solid foundation, and then [they can do] whatever makes sense for them,” Chessman said. She added that not just the process but the end result might look different depending on the school or the state. “Maybe the climate in their state has the opportunity to ask for money. But it doesn’t have to be for money.”

Gathering data on return on investment for mental health initiatives struck Nguyen as one of the most crucial and broadly relevant recommendations. Tom Harnisch, vice president for government relations at SHEEO, agreed. (Harnisch also serves on the LearningWell editorial board.) “Investments in student mental health are important, but they’re going to be in a competitive environment, with a range of other items, vying for a limited pool of available state funding,” he said. “The focus on return on investment and student success is critical.”

Harnisch also highlighted the toolkit’s section listing examples of successful state mental health policymaking. “Policies to expand access to student mental health services. Growing the pipeline of mental health professionals. Boosting state funding. Addressing basic needs insecurity,” he recounted with enthusiasm. “There are so many ways that states can make a difference.”

Knitting in Class

Mary Beatty was stressed about the upcoming presidential election. It was fall 2024, and Beatty, then a senior at the University of Richmond, was spending her final year of college classes mindlessly doom scrolling on her laptop. 

Her mom suggested she try knitting. One day, Beatty, a leadership studies major, brought a beginner’s crochet kit to her classes, which ranged from five to 25 people. The repetitive, small movements required to crochet a blue narwhal—an item the kit provided instructions on how to create—forced her off her laptop and drew her into the class. 

 “I’m able to absorb the information better if my hands are doing something tactile,” she said. 

Beatty is among a new crop of students who are turning to an old craft to help them focus and relieve stress. Knitting has emerged in classrooms across the country, at liberal arts colleges and state universities alike. Student knitters and educators tout knitting’s unique ability, backed by research, to reduce stress and enhance focus.

Annabel Xu knits throughout all five of her first-year courses at Harvard Law School and has the wardrobe to show for it. This spring semester, she knit a blue sweater, a purple top, and a pink cardigan, which she made for her mom for her birthday.

During class, Xu will occasionally place her needles and yarn aside to jot down notes on paper or answer a cold call—a term for the fear-inducing Socratic method in which a professor peppers a student with probing questions.  

Xu said she received permission from her professors to knit in their classes after explaining that knitting helps her concentrate. “I’m not slacking off,” she assured them. 

Xu, who learned to knit on YouTube during the coronavirus pandemic, uses the continental stitch, a repetitive, rhythmic movement that she said keeps her hands occupied without requiring much brain power. 

There is a misperception, she said, that students who knit in class are not paying attention.

“People will say things to me like, ‘It’s funny that you were knitting, but then when you got called on, you knew the answer.’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, because I was paying attention.’”

“People will say things to me like, ‘It’s funny that you were knitting, but then when you got called on, you knew the answer.’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, because I was paying attention.’”

Research supports anecdotal evidence that knitting promotes mindfulness and focus, according to Teresa May-Benson, a life-long knitter and occupational therapist who practices outside of Philadelphia. 

“Sensory and motor activities help regulate the brain,” Benson said. “Doing things with your hands, especially if it is something productive, is very organizing. It is common that students, especially those with ADHD and other attention issues, find it helpful.” 

Not everyone in the classroom benefits from knitting. Harvard Law School student Nikhil Chaudhry said peers knitting in his classes has interfered with his ability to concentrate on the professor.

In one of Chaudhry’s classes, a student knits directly behind him, which he said sends the noise of metal needles clinking into his ears. In another class, a different student knits directly in his line of sight to the professor. 

“Knitting looks so different from everything else that it’s really a visual distraction,” said Chaudhry, who is surprised that professors tolerate students knitting in their classes. 

“It is disrespectful,” he said. “You have an eminent legal scholar, who you’ve paid $80,000 a year to learn from—and you’re knitting.”

A Harvard Law School spokesman did not respond to a request for comment on the school’s policy regarding classroom knitting. 

Harvard Law School Professor Rebecca Tushnet said that while she would allow students to knit in her classes, other professors may find it “off putting,” especially if they expect students to take notes. 

“Anecdotally, students have knitted in classes for a long time. I’ve spoken to a number of lawyers who either did it or remember a classmate who did it,” she wrote in an email. “I would allow a student to knit because I know from personal experience that it can aid focus on the class, as long as the knitting is simple enough.”

Students and teachers have not always supported students knitting in class or engaging in other sensory activities.

Beatty, the University of Richmond student, said her public high school in Connecticut banned all types of fidget instruments, such as friendship bracelets and fidget spinners. 

“There was a belief that you couldn’t get away with that in the real world,” she said. “The mentality was, ‘This would not fly in college.’” 

Samuel Abrams, a professor of politics at Sarah Lawrence College in New York, suggested knitting may be more prevalent at schools that promote a progressive approach to education, compared to schools that “may expect more traditional behavior.” 

“I believe in a progressive education and progressive teaching,” he said. “The result of which is I want to be as accommodating and open to whatever learning styles suit my students in the best possible way.”

Abrams said, in total, he has had more than a dozen students—of different genders—knit in his classes. 

He said he allows students to knit because it is an evidence-based intervention to promote focus that has few drawbacks relative to other accommodations he has granted. Abrams said a student once brought a support animal to class that went loose and caused students to scream. (He declined to name the kind of animal to protect the student’s anonymity.) 

“As with most things, it’s about having the right tone and recognizing that we want to try to maximize everyone’s needs and set the right conditions in our classrooms to make it work for people,” Abrams said.

Knitting may be out of the ordinary and visually conspicuous. But it is far from the only behavior taking place in the classroom that could be viewed as distracting.

Mary Esposito, a junior at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, said she has seen students use their computers during class to play video games, shop for clothes, and even watch porn.

“Students are going to do what they’re going to do,” the business major said. 

Esposito went viral on Instagram for a video following the TikTok trend “there’s always that one kid in class” and depicting her crocheting a pink scarf toward the back of a lecture hall.

The video garnered roughly five million likes and 15,000 comments. Esposito, who said she is diagnosed with autism, uploaded a series of follow-up posts responding to the comments and dispelling beliefs that she knits in class to bring attention to herself or because she is not serious about academics.

“As someone who is on the spectrum, this is really helpful for me to do in class because my hands need to be doing something,” she said. “It’s more of a tool for engagement—not distraction. That was the bigger dialogue that this video started aside from being just a silly, funny trend.”

After posting the video, Esposito said, people came forward telling her they also knit during class. “All the sudden, going viral, it proved there were actually other people like me.” 

Esposito said her grade point average is a testament to knitting’s educational benefits (she has made the dean’s list the last two semesters). She recommended anyone struggling to focus in class travel to their nearest arts and crafts store to purchase needles and yarn.

A Framework for Flourishing 

If you studied or worked at a health-promoting university, would you know it? Would you recognize the institution’s commitment to wellbeing in your daily activities, your relationships, your environment? For the colleges and universities that are part of the U.S. Health Promoting Campuses Network (USHPCN), the answer to these questions is yes, or at least, that is the aspiration. 

The USHPCN is a coalition of colleges and universities dedicated to infusing health into their everyday operations, business practices, and academic mandates. It was launched in 2015 to promote the “Okanagan Charter: An International Charter for Health Promoting Universities and Colleges,” which offers a blueprint for making wellbeing an institution’s foundational principle.

As it celebrates its 10-year anniversary, the Okanagan Charter (OC) is now an institutional priority at 39 schools in the United States. Around 300 others are not official “adopters” of the charter but participate as “members” of its broader network. For these colleges and universities, the O.C. serves many purposes. It is a pledge, a road map, and in some cases, a license to experiment with new approaches outside the traditional lanes of higher education. More than anything perhaps, the Okanagan Charter is a major shift in thinking about what constitutes wellbeing on campus, as well as who is responsible.  

The Okanagan Charter is a major shift in thinking about what constitutes wellbeing on campus, as well as who is responsible.

“With the Okanagan Charter, institutions around the country are reimagining higher education as a catalyst for human and planetary flourishing on every campus, everywhere,” said Sislena Grocer Ledbetter, chair of USHPCN and associate vice president of counseling health and wellbeing at Western Washington University. 

International, Indigenous Origins 

The Okanagan Charter reflects an international recognition of the influence of higher education on “people, place, and planet”—the three domains frequently cited within the common language the OC provides. “Higher education,” the charter goes, “plays a central role in all aspects of the development of individuals, communities, societies and cultures—locally and globally.” Indeed, colleges and universities serve as not only large institutions but major employers, creative centers of learning and research, and educators of future generations. 

The OC grew out of the work of the World Health Organization’s Health Promoting Universities movement of the 1990s.  The document was formally launched at a 2015 International Conference on the University of British Columbia’s Okanagan campus in Kelowna, Canada. The first draft of the charter was based on input from 225 people with the support of a writing team and an additional 380 delegates who critiqued and refined the document. Its introduction includes an acknowledgement that the OC was developed on the territory of the Okanagan Nation.  

In addition to recognizing the influence of universities on people, place and planet, the charter’s creation and early appeal was in response to the growing international crisis in mental health. According to the Healthy Minds Study, the rate of (mental health) treatment (for college students) increased from 19% in 2007 to 34% by 2017, while the percentage of students with lifetime diagnoses increased from 22% to 36%. By 2015, it was becoming apparent that campuses in the United States were indeed not well. 

One recent paper, “The Okanagan Charter to improve wellbeing in higher education: shifting the paradigm,” suggests a public health approach is the way to solve this problem which led to overwhelmed counseling resources and concerns over inconsistent help-seeking. One of the authors is Rebecca Kennedy, assistant vice president for student health and wellbeing at the University of Alabama at Birmingham, the first school in the United States to sign the Charter. 

“For many years now, universities have been trying to help students on their campuses thrive and flourish, increasing the availability of services on campus,” Kennedy and her co-authors explain. “Many of these services, including mental health treatment, are directed towards individuals, which is important for that individual, but does nothing to create conditions that prevent the need for these services at the population level.” 

In their research, the authors found a paucity of population-based strategies and little examination on system-wide approaches. “There was little evidence of policy, systems, or settings wellbeing strategies in the higher education literature. There was a lack of scientific investigation and evaluation examining the impact of changes to public policies, regulations and laws that impact the health of college students.”

The Okanagan Charter is an effort to fill that void first by creating a framework for improved wellbeing at the population-level on campus and then capturing data that will show its effect over time. According to the charter, “Health promotion requires a positive, proactive approach, moving ‘beyond a focus on individual behaviour towards a wide range of social and environmental interventions’ that create and enhance health in settings, organizations and systems, and address health determinants.” 

For colleges and universities, this means applying a “settings and systems” approach to scenarios one might think of as singular or isolated. One example the authors offer is the diet of college students. While adding more nutritional food to the dining hall menu may be one (downstream) solution to improving students’ notoriously unhealthy eating habits, keeping dining halls open and accessible after hours or during breaks so students avoid resorting to vending machines would be the upstream approach. A Campus Determinants Model, within the Okanagan Charter and mapped to person, place and planet, further demonstrates these distinctions.  

Understanding What Institutional Wellbeing Looks Like

The document, which is 11 pages, provides institutions with a common vision, language, and principles on how to become health and wellbeing-promoting campuses. It includes two calls to action: “Embed health into all aspects of campus culture, across the administration, operations, and academic mandates; and lead health promotion action and collaboration locally and globally.”

What that looks like for campuses within a sector as diverse and tenuously connected as higher education is the big question and the primary work of  the USHPCN. Associated with the International Health Promoting Universities & Colleges Network, the USHPCN supports campuses in interpreting and operationalizing the Okanagan Charter framework, acknowledging the unique factors that influence the OC’s adoption on each campus. Designees from the institutional members, as well as from the schools who have formally adopted the charter, work as a network, meeting regularly and sharing best practices and metrics.  

Julie Edwards is the assistant vice president of student health and wellbeing at Cornell University and the chair-elect of the steering committee of the USHPCN. She is well known among the OC community, as she chairs the potential adopter cohort and is frequently called upon to consult with schools just starting their journey. She urged Cornell to adopt the Charter in 2022 and has made it a pillar of her work and that of the entire university with the full engagement of partners, from faculty members and facility managers to the president’s office.  

“First and foremost, the Okanagan Charter gives us shared language and a shared vision,” Edwards said of the OC’s implementation at Cornell. “An unintended but powerful outcome is that people have become genuinely excited to understand this health-promoting concept and their role within it. Wellbeing is no longer looked at as just an initiative from Cornell Health.”

Edwards said Cornell had an existing foundation of wellbeing support for students, staff, and faculty, as well as for the planet through sustainability initiatives. The Okanagan Charter was the Venn diagram that put it all together. After the adoption of the Charter, the school created multiple guidelines that align with the guiding principles. For example, if you’re thinking of revising or creating a new policy at Cornell, you are asked to consider the question, “Is this health promoting?”  

These criteria are used in decision-making throughout campus. To diffuse some of the academic stress among Cornell’s high performing students, changes have been made to transcript policies, including to avoid discriminating against students who have had to take an incomplete. Many colleges have also implemented credit caps to reduce stress of taking over 20 credits in a semester. Another recent policy change is that employees at Cornell are now allowed two additional floating holidays to use as they please.  

Through the Okanagan Charter, Cornell developed a Community of Practice—a structure that Edwards describes as “bringing together diverse folks who have shared goals to work together to solve complex problems.” With the participation of about 150 people on campus, the Community of Practice is also working on assessing the impact of the policies that have been adopted. 

“My hope is that when students, staff and faculty come to Cornell, they can feel a sense of care and compassion and support for their wellbeing. They can feel that they have equitable access to the services that are provided, and they are able to connect with others in meaningful ways to flourish.” 

At a very different campus, the team from University of Massachusetts, Amherst is equally as enthusiastic, though less far along in the OC process.   “We’ve been forming relationships, listening to speakers, really cementing the excitement for this concept as we move into implementation,” said Elizabeth Cracco, the assistant vice chancellor of campus life and wellbeing. 

Cracco said the Okanagan Charter, which is now part of the university’s strategic plan, came into view after the pandemic when every stakeholder on campus focused on a common goal. “During the pandemic, there was such a great demonstration of serving the greater good of the campus, and that made us want to keep going, to keep thinking collectively around wellbeing.”

Connecting the OC’s population-based approach to student mental health is a welcome strategy for Cracco, who is a trained clinical psychologist with student counseling within her purview. She said the Okanagan Charter allowed her to add a layer to this work, expanding their existing focus on providing individual mental health support.

“The systems we have built to deal with students who are in distress have not gone away,” she said. “But using this collective impact framework, we are able to consider larger issues, such as, ‘How are we going to undo some of the intended or unintended consequences of everyone’s attention going to a screen instead of each other or themselves?’ That’s a whole campus problem. That’s faculty, staff and students.” 

Cracco said what excites her the most about the work is the unexpected partnerships it is forging with other stakeholders on campus. As was the case during the pandemic, she is working alongside numerous teams on campus that are experimenting with new ideas, including creating a greater sense of belonging in the classroom and even making changes to the built environment. “We have a faculty member in the school of architecture who is working with her senior students on the redesign of our residence hall lounges,” Cracco said. 

Cross-sector partnerships are a commonly reported benefit for schools who have adopted the Okanagan Charter. For some, like Furman University in South Carolina, the OC framework was a natural extension of what was already happening on campus. Since 2018, the school has offered the trademarked initiative “The Furman Advantage,” a student-centered pathway that requires a first- and second-year program combining academic advising and student wellbeing.  

Furman’s involvement in the Okanagan Charter, first as an institutional member and then as a full adopter, was initiated by the Wellbeing Strategy Committee, co-chaired by Dean of Students Jason Cassidy and Meghan Slining, a faculty member in health sciences who is a well-known public health expert on campus.  

Cassidy said he had a good feeling about the Okanagan Charter right away and appreciated being part of a learning community that the USHPCN provides. 

 “People from campuses all over the country are really open to sharing what they’ve done, how they’ve done it, and meeting with you one-on-one,” said Cassidy. “But there’s no playbook. They give us a unified skeleton, and then it’s up to us to put the meat on the bones that makes the most sense for our campus community. I think that’s the only way you could get something like this accomplished.” 

While the adoption of the OC may have been an easy lift at Furman, it still represents a significant change in thinking on campus. Slining said she is frequently asked to explain the OC to people who, in another world, would never be expected to understand it. Their response continues to pleasantly surprise her.  

“This is not business as usual where the only people who care about health and wellbeing are from the health sciences,” she said. “Centers and groups all over campus are writing the language into their mission statements and figuring out how to incorporate it into their work. They’re fired up.” 

Success and Strain 

As college students prepare to leave their institutions and brave the world, many are eager to sport their newly minted degrees after time spent engaging in self-exploration, discovery, and development. However, those who unknowingly attach themselves to their college success may spend subsequent years untethering their worth from the diploma hanging on their wall. Data suggest gay men may fall victim to this trend most and may be left alone to navigate the mental health fallout, which goes unnoticed by institutions focused on rewarding their high performance capabilities. Our colleges and universities should better understand their role in perpetuating this potentially harmful achievement cycle among high achieving, developing students. 

In an op-ed for The Washington Post, Joel Mittleman, assistant professor of sociology at the University of Pennsylvania, explains that gay students in 2022 earned a bachelor’s degree at sixteen percentage points above the overall national average. While interesting in isolation, this achievement gap only widens when further analyzing the success rate of gay men in comparison to their straight counterparts. Mittleman reveals that gay men were 44% more likely to be degree recipients than straight men and 50% more likely to earn their doctorate degrees. This level of success is notable. Some may even find it inspirational. However, the reason behind such success must also be questioned. 

The development of gay men has been examined in recent years to make meaning of their orientation toward high achievement. In his 2012 book, The Velvet Rage, Dr. Alan Downs explores how gay men overcompensate to combat homophobia and the stereotypically masculine roles they often do not see themselves in. He found that gay men aim high in their career and life pursuits, as they develop into adults. Even earlier on, they often achieve greatly in their academic performance. Further supporting this compensational achievement notion, the “best little boy in the world” hypothesis initially surfaced in a seminal 1973 text of the same title by Andrew Tobias. In it, he recounts the method of deflecting attention by acting according to the norms he knew would be celebrated. By doing so, he would maintain his closeted queerness and collect accolades along the way.

Theorists and psychologists, like Downs and Tobias, bring forth an understanding of how gay men utilize their outperformance as a source of esteem they otherwise may not feel while being authentically themselves. Thus, the tie between achievement and oneself grows strong, especially the longer the men are closeted. Particularly for college students who are already navigating the tumultuous tides of identity development, the internalization of external pressures brought on by societal norms may result in added stress. Furthermore, these overcompensation strategies fueling academic pressure may only be exacerbating the already disproportionate levels of mental health challenges gay men report.

Key findings from the 2021 Proud & Thriving Project—a collaboration between the Jed Foundation and the Consortium of Higher Ed LGBT Resource Professionals— show that LGBTQ+ students experience higher levels of stress, loneliness, isolation, and hopelessness as compared to their heterosexual peers. These statistics are further substantiated in a study from the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law in collaboration with the Point Foundation, the nation’s largest LGBTQ scholarship fund. The results from the study reveal that fewer LGBTQ people experienced a sense of belonging in college compared to non-LGBTQ people and were over three times as likely to report that their mental health was not good most of the time, if at all, while in college. The mental health challenges of the LGBTQ+ population are not relegated to the college years, however. They are seen spanning the course of one’s lifetime. In 2018, the American Psychiatric Associationreported that LGBTQ individuals were more than twice as likely to have a mental health disorder than heterosexual men and women in their lifetime. More specifically, gay men were observed as experiencing adverse mental health outcomes, including mood disorders, substance use, and suicide, more frequently than heterosexual men. 

Perfectionistic ideals that gay men already face because of a society that does not always accept them are reinforced in the college environment, where GPAs and degree completion are prioritized.

In concert, academic success rates, mental health data, and developmental theories paint a picture of the gay college student experience, a picture that, while still colorful, may look more muted in pigment. Perfectionistic ideals that gay men already face because of a society that does not always accept them are reinforced in the college environment, where GPAs and degree completion are prioritized. Though it is apparent that they are well-equipped to meet the academic expectations set before them, they must also harbor a great deal of resilience in the face of isolation, stress, and anxiety. With little to no acknowledgment of what may be lying beneath the shiny surface of good grades, student organization participation, and campus leadership, gay students are rewarded for their academic prowess and left to pick up the pieces of their strained mental health in the aftermath. Holistically speaking, this emotional labor presents an inequitable barrier to truly embracing both achievement and identity. This phenomenon is not the plight of gay men alone. Students from various marginalized backgrounds face similar pressures in different ways as they, too, strive for academic success.  

Higher education institutions have made progress in expanding their resources for LGBTQ+ students. Though being called into question more recently, these supports have provided visibility and community on campuses across the United States. While these spaces have served as bastions of acceptance, they simply are not enough to account for the unique mental health challenges that today’s college students face and the sustained impact of higher education. More attention must be given to high-performing students who may struggle to process their identity development separate from their achievements. While challenging, it is important for institutions to consider what tools, strategies, and mechanisms they have to support students who may not otherwise display signs of distress. 

The induced achievement pressures that gay college students experience make their academic success a double-edged sword—both impressive and troubling. It also reveals an opportunity for reframing. How academic success is both defined and rewarded should be rethought. In doing so, institutions must make certain that they are not reinforcing the harmful perfectionist ideals that disproportionately affect marginalized groups. We should ask ourselves how we can support the healthy development of students while preparing them for what comes next so that they thrive while on our campuses and long after. 

Willord Simmons is a student affairs professional and the current project manager for student engagement at the Bloomberg Harvard City Leadership Initiative. He is also a Ph.D. student in higher education at the University of Massachusetts Boston, where his research interests focus on student development, student success, and the multifaceted impacts of college on learners. 

Purposeful Information  

For more than a decade, colleges and universities have been relying on the Healthy Minds Study to help them understand the mental health of their students and those at other schools throughout the country. Indeed, this annual indicator and benchmark has become the bellwether for the state of college student mental health, capturing the dramatic increase in the prevalence of mental health issues among college students beginning around 2014.   

But as important as this survey data continues to be, the Healthy Minds Network’s principal investigators, Drs. Sarah Lipson and Daniel Eisenberg, stress that surveillance is only the start of a larger public health approach to helping every student on campus thrive. This mindset has led to strong partnerships with institutions and non-profits working to understand how mental health data can be interpreted and applied, particularly when it comes to policy changes and institutional investments.  

The latest example of this research-to-practice approach is a new report by the Healthy Minds Network, UNCF (United Negro College Fund), and the Steve Fund on the mental health and wellbeing of students at Historically Black Colleges and Univeristities (HBCUs) and Predominently Black Institutions (PBIs). Released earlier this month, the report, “Flourishing: Bolstering the Mental Health of Students at HBCUs and PBIs,” ties Black students at HBCUs to better mental health outcomes than both Black students at Predominantly White Institutions (PWIs) and a national sample of students of all races. 

Akilah Patterson, the study’s project manager and a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Michigan School of Public Health, said she was unsurprised by the results. Citing the strong sense of community HBCUs foster as a reason for students’ apparent wellbeing, she said, “nothing can really replace that.”

The concept and funding for the study came from UNCF, a major advocate and donor to HBCUs and their students. It partnered with the Healthy Minds Network to lead data collection and assessment, while the Steve Fund, a nonprofit promoting mental health among young people of color, contributed expertise.

Between spring and fall 2023, more than 2,500 students from 18 different HBCUs responded to a tailored version of the Healthy Minds Study. They answered questions from the standard Healthy Minds Study, along with a “Black College Mental Health Module,” added to provide insight into the Black college student experience.

The results suggest relatively better wellbeing among HBCU students across a number of scales. HBCU students report to be flourishing more (45% compared to 38% of Black students at PWIs and 36% of students nationally) and experiencing more campus belonging (83% compared to 72% of Black students at PWIs and 73% of students nationally).

The results suggest relatively better wellbeing among HBCU students across a number of scales.

While loneliness is endemic among students everywhere, significantly fewer students at HBCUs (56%) are experiencing “high loneliness” than Black students at PWIs (58%). Students at HBCUs are also less likely to keep negative feelings to themselves (74%) than Black students at PWIs (86%) or students nationally (83%).

Patterson said the wellbeing of HBCU students is an understudied area. “It’s not that it hasn’t been studied at all,” she explained, “but it hadn’t been studied in this way, on such a large scale, and also using some of the measures we chose to use.” 

In addition to insight into how HBCU students are already thriving, Patterson’s study suggests their institutions have room to improve support. Financial anxiety, for example, is the most reported stress factor among students at HBCUs. Twenty-three percent of HBCU students, compared to 18% of students nationally, say their financial situation is “always stressful”—an indicator correlated with greater risk of having one or more mental health problems.

Students’ financial struggles can be difficult for their institutions to tackle, Patterson said. But she hopes research like hers, and other projects going forward, encourage the kind of investment in HBCUs that, in turn, provides relief for the students. Empirically, she added, she believes the research “speaks for itself.” 

“We’ve been doing the work. HBCUs have been very committed for decades to the success and excellence of their students, and that’s not going to change.”

The Flourishing Factor

The spirit of this latest report from the Health Minds Network reflects an evolution of sorts for the data leader, along with many of its peers in the mental health research community. Their stronger focus on “flourishing” allows for greater examination of the many determinants that comprise mental health, such as financial wellbeing. 

In its 2023-2024 report, the Healthy Minds Network made headlines with news of slight improvements in student mental health, which had been trending negatively for several years. Lipson was particularly inspired by the 6% increase in student flourishing for several reasons, including the fact it is an outcome colleges mayhave some level of control over. 

“The web of causation for flourishing is much wider and often within an institution’s control,” she said. “When we think about what goes into flourishing—a sense of belonging, decreases in isolation, maximizing our built environment—there are levers here that institutions can pull, maybe not all of them, but more so than depression or anxiety.”

Flourishing has many definitions but is most often associated with healthy growth in a variety of domains. So anyone can flourish, with or without a mental health diagnosis. Additionally, while anxiety and depression are still alarmingly prevalent, not all students will experience either. From a public health perspective, flourishing is an outcome that is relevant to the entire population.  

Lipson said what is important about this measure, and indeed all of this research, is it helps administrators understand where to spend time and money based on what the evidence suggests is the best investment. To this end, the Healthy Minds Network has launched the creation of a best practices repository. While still a work in progress, the repository will provide that advice for a number of campus interventions.  

What is important about this research is it helps administrators understand where to spend time and money based on what the evidence suggests is the best investment. 

“What we should be investing in from a population, public health approach is a really difficult question given what little data currently exists,” Lipson said. “With the data repository, you can go to a publicly available resource and consider, ‘What are my options? What does the evidence look like? What schools have implemented this successfully, and who could I talk to there?’”

Leading with Wellbeing at NYU

Rooted in New York City and distinguished by a global network of campuses across 15 other cities, New York University is a composite of the world itself. Its president, Linda G. Mills, is charged with leading this cosmopolitan learning community at a time when many of the world’s problems are reverberating on campus. A therapist by training who is also a lawyer, filmmaker, social scientist, and restorative justice champion, Mills draws from her own diverse background to center wellbeing amidst unrelenting change and uncertainty.  

Before becoming the school’s first woman and first Jewish president, Mills spent many years at NYU, building a mental health infrastructure that has become a national model. In this interview for LearningWell, she is joined by VP of Student Health, Mental Health and Wellbeing, Zoe Ragouzeos, to talk about why that is only one aspect of a larger strategy to make individual and collective wellbeing a part of every student’s experience. In the current climate, that means helping those who come to NYU with mostly homogeneous past experiences thrive in a pluralist society.

LW: How is the uncertainty in the political world today, including on college campuses, affecting the wellbeing of your community?

Mills: When I think about the rapid changes happening at the federal level and their impact on our students, I’m constantly thinking about both the individuals and the community as a whole. What I’m seeing is an undercurrent of anxiety—students feeling deeply unsettled by the sheer velocity of change, regardless of their political perspective.

For those already vulnerable from a mental health standpoint, this uncertainty only amplifies their struggles. But even those who are generally resilient are feeling weighed down, less steady, and often simply confused. And that leads to deeper questions: “How do I process this? Is this something I should bring to therapy?” For some, becoming engaged in a community to advocate for change is an outlet. But if those actions don’t bring a sense of emotional relief, what then? How do they manage that lingering distress?

This moment in time creates a real tension between meeting personal emotional needs and navigating the external events unfolding around us. Finding balance between the two is a challenge we all must confront.

LW: What do you most worry about in terms of how this is affecting people?

Mills: I worry about all of it. In times of intense change, people often struggle to find their footing. That uncertainty can cause them to neglect their own wellbeing—whether it’s their mental health, their academic work, or even just basic daily routines. Reading and concentration become difficult. Decisions feel overwhelming. And stress can lead to choices that may have lasting consequences.

“In times of intense change, people often struggle to find their footing. That uncertainty can cause them to neglect their own wellbeing.”

What I worry about most is students making impulsive decisions—choices that could derail their long-term goals—simply because they feel like they’re being swept up in a tidal wave of external events. What they often need most in these moments is to pause, reflect, and take a step back before reacting. But in times of stress, that’s not always easy to do.

LW: Hearing you talk, I am reminded that, among all of your many distinctions, you are a licensed clinical social worker. How has this influenced how you approach your presidency?

Mills: I think it has been really central. I feel like I need to be aware of the therapeutic and resilience elements of our students’ lives. My background in clinical social work means I don’t just see the importance of seeking support, whether that’s through therapy, group counseling, or student organizations. I think deeply about students’ inner lives and what this particular moment in history means for them.

I also recognize that my position is unique. I don’t know many university presidents who are trained therapists. That experience gives me a different lens. I approach my role with an acute awareness of the mental health challenges our students, faculty, and staff are facing. It informs how I communicate, how I think, and how we develop programs that support not just the community as a whole but the individuals who need specific interventions.

So, in many ways, I am always thinking in two directions: What does our student body need collectively, and what does each student need individually? And that approach fundamentally shapes the way we build our mental health and wellbeing initiatives here.

LW: You recently hosted a national convening of university presidents on student mental health and wellbeing. What were some of the common concerns and challenges you and your peers discussed?

Mills: Zoe and I have been working on these issues for nearly 20 years. We started with a focus on direct services, ensuring that students who needed one-on-one counseling could access it quickly and effectively. That remains a core priority.

But over time, a larger challenge has come into focus: Not everyone will seek out traditional mental health services. Some students avoid therapy for religious, cultural, or familial reasons. Others struggle with the stigma attached to mental health care. So, our work has expanded beyond simply serving the most vulnerable students. It’s about creating a culture of wellbeing that reaches everyone.

The question we’re asking now is: How do we support mental health in a way that meets students where they are? How do we tailor programs that resonate with different backgrounds and lived experiences? That was the heart of our discussion at the convening—exploring innovative approaches that make mental health support accessible and relevant to all students, not just those who walk into a counseling center. And I was truly inspired by the creative solutions my peers are already testing.

LW: What are some of the challenges to that shift in focus?

Mills: One of the biggest challenges is that college is an incredibly demanding time with competing priorities pulling students in different directions. They have academic goals, study abroad opportunities, research projects, career aspirations—all of which require time and energy. So how do we integrate wellbeing into their daily lives in a way that doesn’t feel like yet another obligation?

That’s where I think Zoe has done this brilliantly, weaving mental health and resilience into every part of the student experience. If college is meant to prepare students for life, then wellbeing has to be a fundamental part of that preparation.

Some students arrive with strong wellbeing skills. They’ve been working on this for years. But others come to us with no foundation in self-care or emotional resilience—sometimes even with deeply ingrained stigma around mental health. For them, we’re starting from scratch, or even from a deficit.

So where should this integration happen? In student affairs? In study abroad programs? In the classroom? Faculty are often surprised when we suggest that mental health belongs in academic spaces, but the reality is it’s already showing up there. When a student asks for an extension on an assignment or when they can’t finish a course due to a personal issue, those are mental health concerns manifesting in academic life. Universities need to recognize this and build systems that support students holistically.

LW: Zoe, from your perspective, how do you see this shift in thinking taking shape?  

Ragouzeos: Linda often spoke about “the student in the back of the calculus class”—the person who never raises their hand, who may never step forward to seek help. She instilled in us the importance of not just serving those who come to our counseling services but actively reaching those who won’t. And that philosophy, in many ways, is the foundation of the public health model we embrace today.

So, the real question becomes: How do we reach that student?  Because this work isn’t just about clinical services, though those are critically important. It’s about every touchpoint a student has within our institution. Whether it’s an interaction with a faculty member, a peer, the physical environment, or student services, what messages are they receiving? What are we doing to strengthen their ability to cope?

At its core, resilience is the challenge we must address. While this model was initially built to support our most vulnerable students, we now recognize that every student benefits from stronger coping and resilience skills, regardless of where they start. In fact, we see it as our responsibility. By the time a student leaves here, they should not only have gained academic knowledge and the ability to think critically but also a greater capacity to navigate life’s challenges. That’s part of our mission.

With that in mind, how do we, as an institution, ensure that every student—not just those who seek support—leaves us more resilient than when they arrived?

LW: What’s the most effective thing a university president can do to address mental health on campus?

Mills: Modeling and reinforcing.

I often say that to be an effective therapist, you have to have gone to therapy yourself. The same is true for leadership around mental health. We need to model the idea that seeking support isn’t a weakness. It’s a fundamental part of a productive, healthy life.

That means speaking about it openly, normalizing conversations around mental health, and ensuring that our institutional policies reflect those values. We have to create a culture where prioritizing wellbeing is not just accepted but expected.

LW: What are your thoughts on the current state of higher education? What kind of change do you think is needed, especially in light of public skepticism?

Mills: Despite definite concerns about higher education, people still deeply believe in its value. The sheer volume of applications to NYU—over 120,000 this year—tells us that. Higher education remains the single most important factor in setting individuals and families up for success.

But beyond academic and professional preparation, universities also have a broader responsibility. We need to cultivate critical thinking, civic engagement, and the ability to navigate diverse perspectives.

One of the most urgent gaps I see is in bridge-building. Many students arrive on campus from homogenous communities, whether in the U.S. or abroad, and are suddenly immersed in one of the most diverse environments they’ve ever encountered. That transition can be jarring, especially in today’s polarized world.

Social media and cancel culture have made it even harder to engage across differences. We need to teach students the skills to have difficult conversations, to coexist with people who think differently, and to build meaningful connections across divides.

Interestingly, our research shows that students who study abroad improve their ability to navigate cultural differences. So how do we bring that kind of growth into all aspects of university life? Just as we integrate mental health and resilience from day one, we need to be just as intentional about fostering cross-cultural understanding and communication.

LW: Zoe, do you have any thoughts on that?

Ragouzeos: Resilience isn’t just about personal coping. It’s also about how we engage with the world around us. When we truly listen to one another and appreciate differences, we become more adaptable, more open, and, ultimately, more resilient. The ability to navigate life’s challenges is deeply connected to our capacity for understanding perspectives beyond our own.

“Resilience isn’t just about personal coping. It’s also about how we engage with the world around us.”

This is one of the reasons why study abroad experiences can be so transformative. When students immerse themselves in a different culture, they naturally give themselves permission to accept differences in a way they might not at home. As visitors, they recognize that they are stepping into a world with different customs, perspectives, and ways of life, so they adjust. They observe, and they grow.

Yet, back home, that openness often fades. In familiar environments, people tend to default to expecting things to function as they always have within the norms of their own communities. This can create resistance to difference, rather than a willingness to embrace it.

So the question becomes: How do we cultivate that same openness and adaptability within our own communities? How do we encourage students to bring that study abroad mindset—one of curiosity, acceptance, and resilience—into their daily lives, even in places that feel familiar?

LW: Do you ever get asked about your own mental health? This is a tough time to be a college president, but I’m guessing there’s no support group for that.  

Mills: As a therapist by training, I think about my own mental health constantly. I believe that if I didn’t, I’d be failing my community. We all have to prioritize our wellbeing, especially in leadership roles where the pressures are relentless.

These are incredibly challenging times, and I have to be at my best to lead effectively. Some days are tougher than others, especially when events hit close to home, like my personal experiences with antisemitism. But those moments also deepen my understanding of resilience, making me a better advocate for our students. At the end of the day, I’m not just leading this community. I’m living these challenges alongside them.

The University of Virginia Builds a Headquarters for Wellbeing

At noon three days a week, a room overlooking the pond at the University of Virginia falls into quiet meditation while the rest of campus churns with mid-day activity. Some students sit, some lay on the floor. A facilitator leads with guided thoughts and modes of breathing, but you’re welcome to do your own thing. After about 20 minutes, everyone is back on their way to lunch and afternoon classes.

“It’s very accessible to all kinds of people. It’s a nice break in the day, and it’s powerful for the people who have discovered it so far,” says Dearing Fife, a sophomore who organizes the sessions at the Contemplative Commons.

Dearing is a student advisor at the Commons, a new soaring glass and fieldstone building that is home to the Contemplative Sciences Center (CSC). For more than 12 years, the CSC had been operating from UVA’s religion department with multidisciplinary research, experiential learning, and mindfulness initiatives. The construction of the Commons represents more than an impressive new building to house a department and some activities. It is headquarters for the interdisciplinary face of wellbeing on campus—from grounding activities like yoga and meditation to scholarship on the many intersections of contemplation and nature, art, and technology.

The construction of the new Commons makes tangible President Ryan’s desire for UVA to be a top school for holistic student life while pushing boundaries on what higher education can look like in terms of mental health promotion. For many years, UVA had been the administrative backbone of the Flourishing Academic Network (FAN), an inter-institutional collaboration aimed at promoting student flourishing through higher education.

A Contemplative Commons

On the western edge of campus, the new 57,000-square-foot building sits beside the serene 11-acre pond and watershed area known as The Dell. Its U-shape wraps around a Ginkgo tree-lined courtyard, and connects to central campus via a pedestrian bridge over Emmet Street inspired by the High Line in New York, with benches and plantings. It’s hard to imagine a location better suited for a center dedicated to research, teaching, and outreach for contemplative experience.

“Our building is designed around the three themes of nature, art, and technology, and all three combine together to create contemplative opportunities for individuals,” says Kelly Crace, Executive Director of the Contemplative Sciences Center. “It’s intentionally multidisciplinary, creating wonderful spaces where students just love to come and study, whether they want to come into our art galleries, or come into our Conservatorium and experience light and sound in a variety of ways, or connect with nature through our biophilic design.”

The Commons houses, and reflects, work being done at UVA’s Contemplative Sciences Center. The facility’s purpose is to support student flourishing through a host of indoor-outdoor spaces, academic classrooms, immersive learning and events. It will soon include art installations and flexible studios that can be configured as classrooms, research labs, or even yoga studios.

Technology plays an interesting role in both design and practice in the Commons, used both to enhance mindfulness experiences and to create intentional tech-free spaces for deeper reflection. The Conservatory is an immersive room with floor to ceiling windows, sounds and light panels, with state-of-the-art audio to mimic natural soundscapes—think ocean waves, rainforests, waterfalls, wind, and buzzing bees. Other areas at the Commons are tech-free zones, encouraging students to disconnect altogether.

Innovative Classrooms, both labs and studios, are designed as multi-modal spaces that allow instructors to change the room setup based on the session’s needs. Classes can alternate between traditional seating, or more free-form setup using yoga mats or meditation cushions. Some rooms feature sprung floors, ideal for movement-based practices like Tai Chi, or facilities conducive to a Japanese tea ceremony. Others serve as academic classes that faculty members would prefer to hold in something other than a traditional classroom building.

“There’s one class that meets in the Commons, for example, on medical Spanish. This professor has her own deep contemplative practice, and she incorporates it into every class that she leads,” says Connie Kresge, chief of staff of the CSC. “She’s not just bringing in somebody who’s pre-med to learn a few vocabulary words. She is saying, ‘Okay, you are going to be the front line of working with humans. How do you imbue your practice with understanding of this population and a contemplative, compassionate approach?’ And so they also get the benefit of a setting like the Commons.”

Research and Practice

In a world increasingly defined by speed, competition, and information overload, the CSC represents a shift in higher education. Housed within UVA’s Provost’s Office, CSC benefits from strong institutional support, ensuring its programs are not peripheral but central to the university’s academic mission. As Michael Sheehy, CSC’s Director of Research, points out, UVA’s investment in contemplative education is unique among public universities, positioning it as a leader..

With its three-pronged mission, CSC is reshaping how students, faculty, and the broader academic community engage with education, wellbeing, and leadership. Work and programming at the Contemplative Sciences Center is organized around three pillars: Research, focus on advancing contemplative studies through scholarship; University Life, integrating mindfulness into students’ days; and Systems Change, expanding contemplative education globally through leadership and K-12 initiatives.

At the heart of CSC’s work is a research lab known as CIRCL, which stands for Contemplative Innovation, Research, and Collaboration Lab. There, scholars study many aspects of the ways meditation, nature, and technology shape our well-being from a collaborative, cross-disciplinary perspective.

One of the current projects examines how different environments impact contemplative experiences, explains Sheehy. As part of the methodology, participants will be studied meditating in five different settings, and researchers then track brain activity, heart rate, and emotional responses. “If you meditate in a garden, does it feel different than if you meditate in a featureless white room?” he  asks. “What happens in your brain and body when you practice mindfulness in nature?” Sheehy is also editor of the Journal of Contemplative Studies and also Contemplative Currents, which  are uniquely poised to cover both peer-reviewed academic studies and open public scholarship.

Research, academics, and collaborations go well beyond the study of nature and meditation. CSC is diving into diverse studies such as virtual reality experiences, lucid dreaming research, and exploration of leadership and public policy.

“We’re having professors coming in from our Batten School of Leadership and Public Policy to talk about policy and leadership from a contemplative perspective, professors from religion to come talk about Buddhism, and we’re exploring collaborative work of how we can do things with the school of data science,” says Crace. “What’s really cool is getting a sense of the breadth and diversity that’s possible. People might initially think, Oh, so this is where you do yoga, or this is where you do mindfulness, that type of thing. Yes, and we’re so much more than that. Being able to bring in that diversity of collaboration, I think, is really important.”

University life          

But the CSC isn’t just about research—it’s about making curiosity and mindfulness part of daily student routines to support an overall culture of thriving. The CSC hosts monthly salons, where students and faculty can discuss contemplative topics with leading interdisciplinary scholars.  A Citizen Leaders Fellowship offers students a year-long leadership opportunity to gain skills needed to flourish during their time at UVA and after graduation.

Beyond the lab and classroom, the CSC and Commons are uniquely poised to support student flourishing with a wide range of campus programming—beginning with a celebratory weekend of concerts, food and activities in April to mark the grand opening of the Commons. Going forward, a weekly calendar of programming and well-being initiatives include regular yoga, meditation, Tai Chi, reflective writing, and spaces to cultivate mindfulness and resilience.

It’s a bold push against what Crace calls the “stress-glorification culture” of modern academia.

People ask, Why would a university have a building for contemplation? They don’t ask, Why do you have a building for the arts, and a building for sports?

 “’I stayed up two nights. Well, I stayed up three.’ It’s this constant one upping, where we’re trying to find distinction through how hard I’m working,” he says. “It’s not only how hard I’m working, but it’s important for you to know how hard I’m working, and it just creates a very toxic culture that really disrupts flourishing. We want to be a disruption to that stress culture.”

Systems Change

Flourishing is a key word in the overall picture of contemplative sciences and its place in a larger ecosystem of institutions helping young adults maturing in a way that best supports their wellness and full potential. Appropriately enough, the Flourishing Academic Network (FAN) grew out of key individuals at UVA committed to flourishing, including David Germano, a religious historian at the University of Virginia and Crace’s predecessor as former director of CSC, and alumni Jeffrey Walker, a finance executive, philanthropist, and member of the board.

“What we’re trying to do with FAN is taking a system orientation and looking at how we can prepare students for the real world, and allow them to succeed in higher ed,” says Walker. “It means giving them tools when they arrive, and educating them about what kind of tools there are out there, working on things like social emotional learning models, meditation, yoga, body movement, breath practices, peer to peer support, and also managing ego and collaborative models, and looking at leadership models.”

For real systemic change, the third pillar of the CSC reaches beyond the campus into the wider scope of academia with FAN, and reaching K-12 classrooms and international leadership programs.

 “The systems change work can be thought of as expanding what we do reaching outward,” says Kresge. One major initiative is the Compassionate Schools Project, a groundbreaking K-12 mindfulness curriculum leading new practices in Louisville, Kentucky. Another is the Dalai Lama Fellows Program, which trains young leaders around the world in mindfulness-based social change. In 2024, CSC took 17 Fellows to meet His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

CSC is also working on a national initiative to integrate contemplative education into higher education policy. By partnering with education policymakers and university administrators, CSC hopes to make contemplative practices a core part of the American educational experience—and something both more easily understood and more widely undertaken.

“People ask, Why would a university have a building for contemplation? They don’t ask, Why do you have a building for the arts, and a building for sports? No one stops and says, what do you mean by arts?” says Kresge.. “We don’t have that barrier in our colloquial understand of the words arts and sports, but we do in our conversation of what contemplation is.”

Leaders like Kresge hope there would be a greater understanding of mindfulness and meditation as an ongoing tool and practice—like exercise—and not a one-time thing that can be taught in a seminar and crossed off a list.

Sheehy learned meditation from his grandmother when he was about 10 years old, and it made a lasting impression. “I’ve had the chance to live most of my life with access to knowledge about contemplative practices, because I’ve had experiential access to as a constant reference point,” he says. “That’s why I think the research we do is important, because we’re showing people how these practices wok, how powerful and empowering they can be, and give them agency over transforming their lives.”

Dearing Fife also had access to these practices at an early age, and the addition of the Contemplative Commons at UVA cements her belief she could not have found a better place for herself to attend school. A self-described “anxious kid,” she discovered meditation in middle school, and it’s been a core part of her life ever since. “Like brushing my teeth,” she says. “A non-negotiable.” She grew up knowing that learning to handle it was just going to be her thing.

“Everyone manages something in their life, and I have to manage my anxiety,” she says. She meditates once or twice a day, and believes it’s a tool many more college students would benefit from. She is aware of a first-year student who shows up to the noon meditations regularly, and likes to envision that it’s making a difference in her life—and that in a small way, as organizer of the sessions, Dearing contributes to that.

“It’s a big school, and I’m in Greek life, and that’s been great,” she says. “But I also wanted an academic realm where it’s like, This is my place, and this is where I’m going to impact the university,” she says. “And this, working at the Commons and CSC, is it.”