Mindful Unrest

When your house is burning, it feels like the whole world is on fire. That is how one student described her experience since October 7, when the heated protests and divisive debates over the war in Gaza erupted on her campus and on campuses across the country. For many students like her, the conflict is personal, it is political, and it is tangled up in all the things she is already struggling with: finding her identity, navigating friendships, and striving to retain intellectual curiosity while also feeling really angry.

For higher education, the Israel-Hamas war has rocked its own foundation, exposing not just elephants in the room but real wooly mammoths like the definition of free speech, the role of the presidential pulpit in geopolitical events, and the degree to which institutions tolerate or enable extreme political views. All of these issues relate to the overall wellbeing of students and of campus communities, issues that have emerged as important priorities for colleges and universities given the rates of anxiety and depression students, and faculty and staff, have been reporting.  

It would seem there would be no better time for campuses to be working on those elements that we know help humans flourish, such as empathy, civility, community and self-awareness. But very little of that is cutting through the vitriol, blame, and anger that are unavoidably replayed on non-silenced screens.  How can higher education use this moment in time, and others before it, to understand some of what is happening and to begin to heal through the power of its own resources and assets? LearningWell asked a number of people what they think.  Here is our first guest interview.

Gene Beresin, MD, MAis executive director of The Clay Center for Young Healthy Minds at Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH), a full professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School (HMS), and senior educator in child and adolescent psychiatry at MGH.

LW: What is your reaction to the way the conflict in the Middle East is playing out on college campuses?  

GB: Colleges are places that can raise issues that are highly controversial, that involve conflict, that generate high levels of emotion and that require civil conversations.  We want college campuses to be places where students feel safe enough to speak their minds, to disagree in ways that are interesting, that engage them. The problem in this particular instance with the war between Israel and Hamas is that I don’t think that there has been sufficient attention given to how to deal with conflict.

We try to teach our younger kids social emotional learning, principles of wellbeing, controlling our own emotions such as rage, shame, humiliation, passion, and in ways which are helpful. But what’s happened here in my view is that lines are being drawn in the sand. The students have been taking sides. And even though the leadership of many colleges have said, “we want this to be a safe place, and that there’s no room for terrorism or hatred or brutal behavior,” I have not heard much at all about principles of conflict resolution. It seems to me that students on both sides of the issue need to understand that there’s tremendous power to resolving conflict and dealing with conflict. And there are principles, for example, of noting the appreciation of differences, of acceptance, of tolerance, and the ability to love and respect each other despite our disagreements. But that does not seem to be happening.  I’ve heard a lot about free speech. I’ve heard a lot about the right to express your own opinions. I’ve heard a lot of platitudes, but I have not heard anything about principles.

LW:  How would these principles apply on college campuses today where disagreement appears to be the only thing people are focused on? 

GB:  We need to hold open conversations and active listening to both points of view. If we take a pedantic view of this and we look at history, both the Palestinians and the Jewish people in that region, both groups of people have been conquered, oppressed, displaced and brutalized by outside influences. If you look at it, there’s a lot in common between the Palestinian people and the Jewish people and we should take a step back and appreciate both points of view. 

“I’ve heard a lot about free speech. I’ve heard a lot about the right to express your own opinions. I’ve heard a lot of platitudes, but I have not heard anything about principles.”

Principle two is avoid being judgmental. When one is a subject of criticism or rage or a personal affront from a mental health standpoint, there’s the risk of feeling blamed, devalued, shamed, humiliated.  When on the defensive, the impulse is to counterattack. It basically fires up the amygdala and the fight or flight response, and it doesn’t generate oxytocin, which is the kind of neurochemical that brings us together.

Another principle is having frequent conversations that are under control. Many of the protests that I’ve seen have not been well controlled. They’ve been people screaming at each other. We’re not going to get anywhere by screaming at each other. We’re not going to resolve conflict. Another principle is learning to apologize. If I’ve offended you, if you’ve offended me, there’s tremendous power in apologizing for lashing out, for attacking another point of view. And what do you have to lose? Nothing really. You have a lot to gain by seeing what’s in common and by making one’s own reparations. I think that’s another principle of conflict resolution that I have not seen much of at all. 

Violence should, in every case, not be tolerated. Not tolerated in the Middle East, not tolerated in the United States, not tolerated on college campuses. And violence, I mean in word as well as in deed. Name-calling, attacking personally, ruthless behavior should be unacceptable. 

I think another principle is that the solution to this problem is not going to be easy, and it’s not one side giving into another or one side being right or one side being wrong.  It’s complicated, it’s nuanced. It requires accountability. You don’t resolve a conflict like this by a win or a loss. You resolve it in a way that leaves some things unresolved by demonstration of empathy, putting yourself in the other person’s shoes. I have not heard much at all from anyone including administrations or studentprotesters, about empathically understanding what the other side has endured. I can’t stress it enough. If the students can’t empathize with the impact of these horrifying events, if they can’t see that the trauma that’s happened to virtually everyone is extraordinarily traumatic, extraordinarily sad, extraordinarily dehumanizing, then we’re not going to get anywhere.

We want our kids from toddlerhood through young adulthood and beyond to understand principles of having civil conversations. And for the most part, these have not been civilized. So is there demonstration of respect? When you’re all fired up, you don’t demonstrate respect. And when you don’t demonstrate respect, you foster trauma, you foster distrust, dishonesty in some sense, and saying things that are hurtful and traumatic to other people. We should be able to respect differences. We try to teach our young children to take turns, to use the golden rule, to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I don’t see much of that. I’m getting back to basics here. Basics that are psychological principles and principles of conversation and understanding that we want to teach kids from toddlerhood through adulthood.

Another principle of civil conversations is telling stories. What we’ve learned from all of our major scriptures, whether it’s the Quran or the Torah or the Bible, is that every scripture in the world lives through narratives and I think people can really begin to listen to each other through stories and through narratives. One of the reasons why all the scriptures have been built upon narratives is because narratives generate not only emotions, but questions about trajectories, about lives, about family, about loss, about trauma.

LW: What do you think about this from a mental health perspective?

GB: The bottom line is that this insoluble situation, this inflammatory situation is not only traumatizing, but breeds depression, anxiety, stress, and in some cases, hopelessness, loneliness, and suicidal thinking. I mean, it has all the elements of inflaming the mental health crisis that our college students are already undergoing. 

Stages of rage and trauma and high levels of emotion are not good for physical, emotional, or mental health. They fire up the immune system. They affect our sleep. They change our hormonal systems. They suppress the releases of oxytocin that makes us feel together and connected. So they have physiological effects that are dangerous. They have mental health effects that are dangerous, and they foster social disconnection, which I think is very detrimental for students on college campuses. So neurophysiologically, emotionally, and behaviorally and psychologically, these kinds of vitriolic demonstrations are not conducive to mental health. One can still express one’s point of view in a powerful way and not take a beating physically, mentally, emotionally, behaviorally.

Look, anger is a normal response. Anger prepares us for fight or flight. It’s a normal emotion. But when anger is extreme, when anger becomes laced with rage and hate, it is uncontrollable, and it clouds our cognition. It clouds our thinking. It clouds our ability to engage with others, and it puts us in an attack mode. So I think one of the other things that I would welcome is for not just students, but everyone involved in this very difficult and traumatic situation, is to use principles of anger management. If we can cool our jets, we’re in a much better place to actually talkwith each other and have civil conversations and have some kind of conflict resolution. And what this means is knowing when you’re angry and knowing when you’re coming from a place of anger rather than a more neutral emotional state.

Identifying your triggers for anger is really important. We all know road rage – the car that cuts us off, we want to just kind of slam into it. But we don’t do it. It’s okay to have impulses and angry impulses, but it’s not okay to act out on it. And one has toidentify one’s triggers. A lot of times the triggers here are identification with one’s cultural heritage, but that doesn’t necessarily mean attacking the other person. And a third principle of anger management is controlling your thoughts. Yes, we’re feeling angry. Yes, we’re feeling hateful. Yes, we’re feeling that we’ve got to do something, but it’s like one of my favorite supervisors said to me once, “A lot of times when you’re doing therapy, don’t just do something, sit there.” And I don’t see people just sitting there.  I don’t see people sitting there and taking things in and processing it without impulsively blurting things out. 

LW: How do you think colleges and universities should react? 

GB: I think the role of the leadership should be to provide and empower different segments on campus to actually promote these principles, so we need faculty and student training in conflict resolution,  civil conversations, and anger management. Secondly, this is not a “one-off.”  As a child, you learn things in places of worship, in the boys and girls club, in the community, in the home, on the playground.  We need stakeholders on campus to communicate these principles in reinforcing ways.  The dorm leaders, the heads of our student mental health service, the dean of wellbeing, our clubs, our athletic teams, our coaches to all engage in some way in modeling civilized behavior because what we are seeing now is not civilized. 

It’s not as though we need to have an assembly or a meeting at the student center and have a debate and then we’re done. No, it’s not one and done. These are ongoing conversations that need to occur with dignity and with respect and with thoughtfulness and kindness and compassion and empathy in multiple different forums so that they can reinforce each other.  The leadership of colleges can say, “Look, there are no simple solutions.” Not many presidents have said this. “There are no simple solutions. But let’s try to turn things around.”

Let’s not let rage and hate lead to what we’re seeing in the Middle East with tragedy and loss of life. Let’s try to make our campus a model of civility. Let’s have multiple places in which we can communicate with each other respectfully in a calm fashion, present opposing points of view, agree to disagree, bring in history, bring in culture, bring in personal narratives, bring in spiritual narratives.  And let’s do it differently. Do we want to replicate this? Do we want to perpetuate a stalemate, or do we want to do something that actually brings us to a higher level of empathy and understanding?

UR Well

For the first 30 minutes, University of Rochester academic advisor Hana Goldstein thought her advisee seemed totally fine. Suddenly, she broke down in tears. 

“I was about to say to her, ‘Okay, have a great day. We’ll chat in a couple of weeks.’ And then she just started crying,” Goldstein said. “She opened up to me.”

It’s not uncommon for Goldstein to find her one-on-one sessions with students veering from the academic to the personal. Some students are quick to tell her about an issue they’re facing outside the classroom, she said, while others choke back those troubles, at least initially. “You never know what someone’s going through.”

There is a growing acknowledgement on college campuses that student mental health is influenced by a community of care, and not just one office or service. But taking a more public health approach to college mental health suggests all community members must be prepared to respond if a person reaches out or breaks down. At the University of Rochester, a new wellbeing initiative hopes to fill that need with a curriculum-based training program that helps faculty and staff support struggling students, and each other, in a way beyond “report and refer.”   

This fall, the Health Promotion Office at the University of Rochester launched the Well-being for Life and Learning Training Program, designed for student support staff like Goldstein, who are hungry for tools to support struggling students. The opt-in, self-paced program requires participating faculty and staff to take four core and two elective workshops on a range of wellbeing topics from supportive communities and suicide prevention to intercultural communication and religious diversity.

At its core, the Well-being for Life and Learning Program is a student success initiative, born from the understanding that if students are living better, they will learn better. Rochester’s Health Promotion Specialist for Student Well-Being, Rebecca Block, leads the Well-being for Life and Learning Training Program. She said faculty and student support staff interactions are particularly important to this work. 

Photo by J. Adam Fenster / University of Rochester

In 2021, when the Boston University School of Public Health, Mary Christie Institute, and Healthy Minds Network published a report on The Role of Faculty in Student Mental Health, Block found statistical support for the challenges she’d witnessed teachers confront first-hand. Of the more than 16,000 faculty surveyed, nearly 80% said they’d spoken to students about their mental health in the last year, while only 51% said they could confidently identify a student in distress. The majority (73%) said they would welcome opportunities to improve their skills in this area.

“That report made it more acceptable, I think, at a research institution to say, ‘Okay, this data came out of this study with over 12 universities’ faculty reporting this issue. This means that we should do something about it,’” Block said. 

That same year, in 2021, Block launched the Support Student Mental Health workshop series, bringing together ten experts to lead sessions on topics including trauma-informed pedagogy, recognizing students in distress, and educator self-compassion. By spring, 2023, the Health Promotion Office was polling Rochester’s faculty and staff, finding 85% had spoken to students about their mental health in the last year, but more than half had never received formal training to “navigate discussions with students in distress.”

Upon the success of the workshop series, Block began considering an even more formal, expanded platform to provide faculty and staff with the tools to support not only student mental well-being but their own well-being and that of the community generally. The result, launched this fall, was the Well-being for Life and Learning Training, complete with two unique tracks for faculty and staff, respectively, and offered both online and in-person. By showing faculty and staff how to care for not only struggling students but also themselves, the course tries to relieve some of the pressures that might otherwise detract from their own wellness and ability to teach. 

“This is really the first thing I’ve done that’s really focused on students’ well-being and mental health and how we as staff people can actually make an impact on their lives.”

Block said she first became passionate about faculty wellness as a teacher in New York secondary schools. She noticed how instructors’ stress, often internalized from their students, affected teaching. “Working in those classrooms really was the pivotal moment for me. I was like, ‘These kids are not going to learn. They’re not going to be well if their teachers are not able to regulate their own emotions, if they’re not able to support students in the ways that they need.”

For Amy McDonald, director of Rochester’s Health Promotion Office, one of the primary functions of the Well-being for Life and Learning Training Program is its contribution to a more institutional approach to student mental health and wellness. Historically, McDonald said she’s found a gap between the 70 or 80 health education programs run every year at Rochester and the reality of student health outcomes. “We were working so hard to help these students on an individual level, but it really wasn’t impacting their health. So, we really started to shift our thinking to, ‘How can we take a more systems and settings approach to this?’”

“Because we can teach them skills and give them the knowledge,” McDonald added, “but if they don’t live and exist in an environment that supports those choices and makes those choices easy, it’s going to be impossible for them to achieve that well-being.”

So far, the Well-being for Life and Learning Program has managed to draw employees from a variety of areas on campus with diverse levels of expertise in mental health care. Before enrolling, Hana Goldstein, for example, had already participated in a range of trainings and certifications to inform her student care as an academic advisor. Still, she said she was able to find workshops covering issues she had yet to explore in depth, including addressing grief and loss with students.

Because Health Promotion staff designed these workshops specifically for faculty and student support staff at the University of Rochester, Goldstein said she thinks they’ve chosen facilitators well-suited to advise their unique audience. She said she appreciated the leader of the elective workshop on “Compassion Fatigue” coming from Rochester’s Employee Assistance Program, which manages mental health services for employees. “Compassion fatigue can kind of seem like, ‘Oh, it’s just about self-care, and feel a bit redundant at times,’” Goldstein explained. “It was nice to hear about it from the perspective of someone who is not necessarily student-facing, but from someone who is more staff- and faculty-facing.”

Other staff who have participated, like Claudia Pietrzak, the user experience and social media manager for Rochester’s River Campus libraries, arrived at the workshops with a more limited background in mental health training. “This is really the first thing [I’ve done],” Pietrzak explained. “I mean, I have done safe space training and racial justice training here at Rochester and at previous institutions, but nothing that’s really focused on students’ wellbeing and mental health and how we as staff people can actually make an impact on their lives.”

The opportunity for formal training was exciting for Pietrzak, who said she would otherwise approach the mental health issues of students like those of friends. “It’s kind of like, ‘Well, I know what I would do for a friend, but I don’t know what I can do or what I should do as this person that I am on campus—where I’m an adult, even though I don’t often feel like it.”

In the four workshops she’s taken since early October, Pietrzak has already found practical applications in her everyday life. The suicide prevention course left “an impression on me [where] I know more what to look out for when working with other people and I know more about what it is I can do,” she said. The same compassion fatigue class that Goldstein took also came in handy, Pietrzak said, as she had just recently spoken to a coworker struggling under the weight of students’ rising stress levels as finals neared.

“The session on compassion fatigue was really good because, as a friend to this colleague, I felt very empathetic towards her, but I’m also kind of stressed out, too. So it’s like, ‘How do I take care of myself and not absorb this person’s stress?’” The course reaffirmed the importance of setting boundaries, Pietrzak said, to help her avoid ‘sinking with the ship.’ 

Moving forward, Rebecca Block hopes the Health Promotion Office will be able to connect the impact of the training to improved student success outcomes. “How can we tie GPAs or graduation rates or retention rates to students that attend classes from the people that have completed the training?” she said. “Is there any correlation there?”

For now, at least anecdotally, the Health Promotion team feels heartened by the positive feedback from the community, as they try to raise awareness around the initiative. “I worked with one of our athletic trainers a couple weeks ago, and he was going to bring [the program] to the director of athletics to see if it could be mandated that all head coaches complete the training,” Amy McDonald said.

“So that would be our goal—that it’s seen as something that is so beneficial that it’s required for employees to take.”

The Duke Resiliency and Well-Being Project

Larry Moneta, EdD, served as vice president for Student Affairs at Duke University from 2001 to 2019, when he retired to a life of consulting, teaching, and grandparenting. Dr. Moneta serves as adjunct professor at the University of Pennsylvania Graduate School of Education and teaches in the Global Higher Education Management program and the Executive Doctorate Program for Higher Education Management. He can be reached at lmoneta@gmail.com.

Sometimes, it’s all about choosing where to eat. On this particular day in 2012, I was deciding between a couple of places on the Duke University campus, with just enough time between Board of Trustee sessions to grab a bite. Fortuitously, I elected to grab a bagel in a venue in the student union where the president and vice president of The Duke Endowment (this is the Duke family endowment…not Duke University’s) also happened to be eating. At their invitation, I joined them where we engaged in a fascinating and, what would eventually become a significant, conversation about the status of students’ mental health.

The leadership of the Duke Endowment had apparently been following the news of rising suicides, greater expression of vulnerability and declining overall mental health of students and wondered to what I attributed all of this. I shared my thoughts which included concerns about over-protective parents, over-scheduled children, excessive use of technology and social media, overwhelming and global news dissemination, persistent and pronounced hate incidents, and more. In response to questions of solutions to this crisis, I offered vague but unclear ideas about population-level, preventative interventions rather than simply relying on more counselors and other forms of distress response efforts. We began focusing on resiliency-building techniques rather than disease response approaches.

Larry Moneta, EdD

At the urging of my luncheon colleagues, I began to develop a proposal for a research study that would lead to the development of population-level interventions to strengthen students’ resiliency. Over the course of that year, this idea germinated into a multi-million-dollar proposal that involved nearly 20 faculty and administrators, engaged four colleges and universities, and focused on tracking the undergraduate class of 2018 through their entire collegiate experience. The Student Resilience and Well-Being Project collected data on more than 6,600 variables across 11 waves of data collection from more than 2,000 students.

Unfortunately, just as our efforts to summarize and disseminate our findings were about to happen, the Covid crisis hit, and all attention was justifiably diverted to addressing that pernicious situation. Ironically and alarmingly, the post-Covid conditions on college and university campuses make this work even more important and valuable. According to the American Psychological Association:

“By nearly every metric, student mental health is worsening. During the 2020–2021 school year, more than 60% of college students met the criteria for at least one mental health problem, according to the Healthy Minds Study, which collects data from 373 campuses nationwide (Lipson, S. K., et al., Journal of Affective Disorders, Vol. 306, 2022). In another national survey, almost three quarters of students reported moderate or severe psychological distress (National College Health Assessment, American College Health Association, 2021).”

The article goes on to identify a variety of approaches campuses are taking to address this issue. Unfortunately, most efforts seem more reactive than proactive, requiring more and more precious resources which have begun to dwindle as Covid emergency relief funds dissipate.

In the years since the completion of our Resiliency and Well-Being Study, many of the faculty and staff associated with the project have retired or moved on to other roles and assignments. I retired in 2019 but remain active as a consultant and teacher and have been involved with various approaches to virtual and campus-based healthcare. It seems clear to me that the outcomes of our study and the key areas of intervention identified by the study are more important than ever.

The study identified four key foundations of resilience as noted in this graphic.

The Duke Endowment publication notes several initiatives that were launched towards the end of the study period, based on preliminary findings that confirmed the influence of these four focal areas. But, years and the impact of Covid have passed since that time, and a fresh look at potential interventions guided by these findings is warranted. In the rest of this article, I want to offer my thoughts, as someone with 50 years of collegiate student support experience, on further ways to address the campus mental health crisis based on our findings.

Self-Control (Self-Regulation)

Can colleges really teach or even modestly influence students’ self-control? Vulnerability to negative influences seems well-established by high school age, so the challenge to campuses is to reverse a years-long period of social conformity and group-think mentality. We’ve struggled with students’ alcohol consumption and substance abuse for as long as I’ve been an administrator…and much longer. I do believe that campuses have made a difference but can do much more to establish a culture with reduced peer pressures and reduced willingness by students to conform to destructive behaviors.

“Being resilient doesn’t mean never failing.”

Creating a culture and climate of positive self-control—one where most students will make behavioral choices that conform to their values and ideals, rather than submit to the will of others—requires persistence and patience.  There’s no inoculation for foolish or dangerous behaviors and occasional but measured risk-taking is well-recognized as part of the journey to maturity. But diminishing overt hazing, drug and alcohol abuse, sexual misconduct and other common, destructive aspects of American collegiate behavior is essential. In my experience, the practices that have had the best effect to achieve this objective include:

  • Surrounding incoming students with peer influencers and mentors who model healthy behaviors, reinforce messages of self-empowerment, and invite healthy forms of engagement. The selection and training of resident assistants, for example, at residential campuses is key. The same is true for peer academic advisors, orientation leaders, and any students who serve as mentors and advisors to entering students.
  • The development of communities that are self-governed and guided by principles of inclusion, care, and forgiveness. Again, residential campuses have a great opportunity to accomplish this through residence hall models that foster small and frequent gatherings. The science of space[1] can inform how best to create physical spaces that foster these exact conditions. Non-residential campuses can accomplish the same through learning cohorts, clubs and organizations, study groups, and other facilitated group gatherings.
  • Adjudication practices that are less punitive and more educational with a focus on self-reflection, self-awareness, and self-compassion. Early intervention at the point of modest miscues can offer opportunities to prevent irrecoverable disasters.
  • Well-being coaches who can work with teams of students on nutritional guidance, fitness plans, stress avoidance, relief tools and more.
  • Faculty development programs that inform faculty about the science of self-control, encourage the development of effective time management skills for students and advise them how to respond to early indications of procrastination and incomplete assignments.

As may be obvious, moving the needle on a culture of self-control requires campus-wide coordination and consistency. Messaging about institutional values and norms regarding student behaviors must begin with enrollment recruitment messaging, continue through onboarding processes, and extend through academic and co-curricular student engagement. Healthy behaviors need to be modeled by peer and professional staff, by faculty and by deans. Even alumni who might signal historical patterns of behaviors perhaps previously tolerated but now recognized as inappropriate must be ‘re-educated.’ For campuses with significant graduate and professional students in attendance, customized versions of this approach may be useful as well. This is especially true where graduate students represent a significant part of the instructional staff.

With a new crop of students arriving each year, socialized by mass media, ill-informed peers, and romantic historians (their parents), the process of acculturation to healthy norms and of reinforcing the positive attributed of self-control is ongoing. Measures of changing patterns of behavior are available and should be part of a campus analysis of movement towards good community health and well-being.

Academic Engagement

Our study, unsurprisingly, found that students who were most excited and most engaged by their studies were also among the healthiest of our students. Being academically engaged doesn’t mean having the highest grades (though engaged students do tend to score above average). These students, in the words of one of our researchers, have a ‘gusto’ for their studies. They love what they’re learning and can’t wait to get back to it. For faculty, in particular, having a classroom full of engaged students is the holy grail!

Recent research by Gallup-Purdue University offers insights into practices which stimulate academic engagement and post-graduate career and personal success.

The findings highlight the importance of faculty who are great teachers, who actually get to know their students, and who provide opportunities for project work, in collaboration with others, for more than a brief period of time. Guided immersion into some intellectual effort is key.

In addition to caring and engaged faculty, students benefit from a variety of mentors which can include alumni, campus administrators, and volunteers from the local community. The development of practical skills through apprenticeships and internships is also critical as is leadership and followership opportunities through campus clubs and organizations.

 
“Sometimes you have to break a model to build a better model.”

This study focused on the power and influence of engagement in the academic realm, but in my experience, engagement across the campus environment is equally advantageous. The students whom I knew to be deeply involved in athletics, campus newspapers, community service, campus social groups, and more always seemed to me to be among the healthiest. Of course, there are outliers…I know plenty of students who were highly functioning alcoholics. But it was always quite clear to me and my colleagues that disaffected students struggled the most while engaged students thrived.

The broad literature on ‘belongingness’ (space limitations prohibit from a full treatment in this article) reinforces the findings on academic (and non-academic) engagement. The stronger the sense of belongingness at and to an institution, the greater the likelihood of engagement and well-being.

Self-Compassion

Being resilient doesn’t mean never failing. In fact, I imagine that healthier people are more self-confident and are prone to taking calculated risks. On campus, self-confident students pursue leadership roles, try out for lead roles in campus stage productions, take more challenging courses and take greater advantage of all the opportunities available to them. But self-confidence doesn’t always equal self-compassion, and inevitable failures, especially among the most ambitious students, can result in extremely debilitating consequences.

Our study showed that students who scored highest on self-compassionate scores also scored highest on our overall well-being indices. This means that healthy students accepted their failures but didn’t wallow in them. They learned from their mistakes, gave themselves grace for their missteps and moved on. If only we were all so kind to ourselves!

Can self-compassion be taught to all students? Absolutely! There’s considerable evidence of the relationship between mindfulness practices and self-compassion reinforcing the value of mindfulness training for all students as a campus-wide practice. In my time at Duke University, members of our counseling staff developed a program called Koru Mindfulness (now The Mindfulness Institute) which was promoted widely among first-year students. For other students, faith-based practices and engagements offer support for self-kindness and compassion. Athletics teams have begun to adopt self-compassion awareness to assist with recovery from losses and academic advisors are increasingly being trained to assist students with recovery from exam and course underperformance.

Relationships

What’s better than good friends? And I don’t mean all those Facebook or other social media friends! When it comes to the power of friends as stimulant for health, it’s not about the numbers. Having even one or two really good friends—friends who will look out for you, forgive your missteps, and celebrate/grieve with you unconditionally—makes a huge difference, according to our study. This may seem pretty obvious to all of us, but institutional efforts to promote friendships aren’t quite so simple.

Sometimes you have to break a model to build a better model. For example, at Duke, I discovered through our ongoing assessments that every year, more and more incoming students were pre-selecting a roommate rather than letting one be assigned to them randomly. Digging into the data, I discovered that most who chose this option were white students and mostly from wealthy families. This wasn’t too surprising as these students had the social capital to meet other students at summer camps or from their high schools and chose to room with one another rather than risk assignment with someone perceived to be ‘less compatible.” The problem, in addition to the self-segregation outcome, was that these roommates rarely actually became friends. The superficial characteristics they had in common rarely served as the foundation for a good friendship so, in time, these relationships drifted apart.

Given what we learned, we made a change. With the support of institutional leaders, we prohibited the pre-selection of roommates and mandated random assignments of all students (with some exceptions among varsity athletes). I also enlisted the support of a faculty member who had previously conducted research around roommates, friendships and diversity of relationships who agreed to track the consequences of the random assignments. It was gratifying to learn that random assignments lead to longer-lasting friendships and greater appreciation of differences among students from varying identities and cultures.

Residential campuses have ample opportunities to sponsor options for exposure to potential friends and non-residential campuses can do so through various student clubs and organizations. The point is to be deliberate about connecting students in pairs, teams, and communities. The student projects mentioned in the academic engagement foundation can also help forge friendships. The quality of a campus environment can also encourage friendship development. One of my first projects at Duke was to convert a passageway that promoted unengaged movement into a beautiful plaza where students (and others) preferred to stop, relax, and converse with those around them. I’m a huge proponent of campus architecture, both indoors and outside, that foster connections and engagement.

The four foundations I’ve noted are proven elements that promote students’ well-being. I’ve shared a few practices that align with the principles embedded in each foundation, but every campus will have their own approaches. If your campus has uniquely addressed one or more of these foundations, I’d love to hear about it!


[1]Strange CC, Banning JH. Designing for Learning : Creating Campus Environments for Student Success. Second ed. San Francisco CA: Jossey-Bass; 2015.

Student Voices

Carson Domey is a youth mental health advocate in his sophomore year at The University of Texas at Austin, studying Economics and Government. Carson currently serves as the chair of The Mary Christie Institute’s National Youth Council on College Student Mental Health.

In an increasingly connected world, it might seem paradoxical that loneliness has been deemed an epidemic by the U.S. Surgeon General. Yet, the profound impact of isolation on youth mental health is undeniable, as the life-altering effects of the COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the need for community and social connections, particularly within education.

For college students like myself, who left behind support systems and existing relationships, the need for a sense of belonging and companionship becomes ever-so-critical. The pandemic only exacerbated this challenge of socially acclimating into a new environment, as during COVID-19, opportunities to develop such skills were limited.

The impact of the pandemic on students cannot be understated. The abrupt shift to online learning equally impacted students’ social and academic development. The absence of in-person interactions and hallmark experiences throughout high school and college resulted in students missing crucial social development opportunities. These skills, such as forming relationships, effective communication, and collaboration, hindered as a result of the lack of ample opportunities to hone such traits.

Casron Domey

While online classes offered some benefits in terms of flexibility and accessibility, this medium certainly came with a price. The absence of natural social interactions in classrooms, lecture halls, and hallways left a void that no virtual meeting or Zoom icebreaker questions could fill. The spontaneous lighthearted moments during class and the collective energy and camaraderie lacked due to the nature of this new means of education.

As a student at the University of Texas at Austin, this fall, I have witnessed firsthand the commitment by faculty to address this issue. The first week of school included not only overviews of syllabi, but an emphasis from professors on the importance of fostering community in and out of the classroom. For example, many professors allot specific times for students to meet and engage with their peers during lectures, and we have furthered these bonds throughout the semester by working together on group projects.  The dedication to creating a connected environment was echoed throughout classes as small as 30 students to lectures as large as 150 students. This trend sends a resounding message: even in the face of adversity, the critical essence of community is irreplaceable.

Fostering such an environment requires educators to go beyond the conventional boundaries of their roles and see themselves as facilitators of both knowledge and community. Equally, students must be willing to step out of their comfort zones, engage with their peers, and invest in the bonds that will endure throughout their academic journeys and lives. The benefits of community and a connected college experience can contribute positively to mental health, academic performance, and overall well-being. 

“For college students like myself, who left behind support systems and existing relationships, the need for a sense of belonging and companionship becomes ever-so-critical.”

The declaration of a loneliness epidemic and post-pandemic landscape underlines the urgent need to invest in and prioritize building community through education. The impact of COVID-19 on students’ ability to socialize and develop essential interpersonal skills warrants a response. It is my hope that educators’ dedication to building connections will continue to grow and serve as a beacon of resilience in the face of the recent adversity experienced by students and faculty alike. By recognizing and embracing the importance of community on college campuses, we can shape a culture and environment capable of bringing out the best in the next generation. 

The Practical Wisdom of Elizabeth Cracco, PhD

Elizabeth “Betsy” Cracco does not take herself too seriously, avoids jargon, and explains public health and community wellbeing strategies with analogies involving frogs and ponds and building houses.  

Cracco’s plain-speaking approach may serve her well as she continues her role as assistant vice chancellor for Campus Life and Wellbeing, a newly-created position at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, aimed at one of the biggest challenges facing higher education today — improving wellbeing among a generation of students reporting high rates of anxiety, depression, and loneliness. Cracco’s office oversees Recreation and Wellbeing, Residential Life, and the Center for Counseling and Psychological Health, a three-legged stool supporting students’ psychological and physical health.  She said the nexus of all of these domains underpins her mission.  

“One of the biggest prescription pads we have is making connections and creating a sense of belonging–and you can’t do that from a seat in the counseling center alone,” she said. 

Cracco said cabinet-level wellness positions like hers are becoming more common on college campuses, due to the increased concern over student mental health and the growing acknowledgment that what has been called the campus mental health crisis is more of a public health problem, meaning multiple departments need to get involved to address it. In many ways, Cracco’s professional trajectory aligns with this expanded view. 

After graduating from College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, Massachusetts, Cracco received a master’s degree in counseling from Boston College, then a doctorate in counseling psychology from the University of Wisconsin Madison.  Holy Cross, a Jesuit school, had a strong sense of community and it was there that she took an interest in mind-body practices and attending retreats. Her first job was in residential life, living in a dorm, where she quickly learned that the position functioned as a way for students to share their personal stories, from eating disorders to relationship issues.  Her professional training included the relational culture model out of Wellesley College, a feminist ideology that puts the emphasis on the individual in context within the community. This led her to apply a public health approach to her work. 

“It occurs to you after you go from client to client in direct care that something else is wrong,” she said. “There is a systemic problem here we need to think about.  In other words, if all of the frogs in the pond are sick, why are we still asking, ‘What’s wrong with this frog?’” 

Cracco said her metaphorical move up-stream started early. When she was head of counseling at the University of Connecticut, she began a retreat program called C2 for “Connect and Challenge,” involving whitewater rafting, storytelling, and meditation. When the new position of (then called) executive director of wellness opened at UMass Amherst, the state flagship campus, Cracco went for it.  In her pitch presentation, her first slide included Maya Angelou’s advice on what we need to ask each other when we move into any social setting:  “Do you see me? Do I know that you care about me? Is it important I am here?” 

“If all of the frogs in the pond are sick, why are we still asking, ‘What’s wrong with this frog?’”

“If we could enact this same approach at a community level, it would mean that no matter what your struggles are, you would be held and you would not be alone because your community mates would be there, many going through the same struggles,” said Cracco. 

When she got the job in 2019, Cracco asked herself, “Am I hired to create a cohesion across three units on a campus, or am I hired to promote wellbeing across the entire campus?” She figured, either way, it was about crossing silos and making connections, something that became surprisingly possible during the pandemic and would lead to UMass signing on to the Okanagan Charter: An International Charter for Health Promoting Universities and Colleges. 

“During the pandemic, we really demonstrated how we could work together as a campus and how the academic side of the house can provide real, on-the-ground services. The public health students, the nursing students, they ran the clinics, gave the vaccinations, all of it.  After that, our dean of public health, dean of nursing, and vice chancellor of student affairs got together and said, ‘How can we keep this going?’  We figured the starting point was signing on to the Okanagan Charter.” 

Having the buy-in from then Chancellor, Kumble Subbaswamy, a prerequisite in signing the charter, meant that everyone on campus had some responsibility to promote wellbeing, including faculty.  Cracco said the tie-in to student success helped make the case.  

“You are not going to do well academically if you never sleep, eat trash, and have no social life, and we need to communicate that to students,” she said. “We all need to get out of the boxes we’ve made.” 

As an example of out-of-the-box thinking, Cracco’s team introduced a curriculum developed by the Benson-Henry Institute for Mind Body Medicine at Mass General Hospital, called Positivity and Relaxation.  The nine-session, credit-bearing course is taught in small groups and helps students self-regulate around anxiety in particular, but also depression.  It is not an alternative to therapy for those who need it, but an option for all students on campus. Cracco said they are running 300 to 400 students a year through these small group sessions and they’re receiving data on its effectiveness from the school of public health. 

“You are not going to do well academically if you never sleep, eat trash, and have no social life, and we need to communicate that to students.”

“We are seeing tremendous reductions in stress, increases in wellbeing, even increases in sense of belonging,” said Cracco.  

The course is funded by her office, but not owned and operated by any one department.  As she tinkers with its scale, Cracco is working with professionals within and beyond campus on developing other courses, some involving storytelling, and working closely with a colleague on courses specific to building resilience and belonging in students of color. As big a fan as she is of retreats, she said representation is an important consideration to watch in mind-body practices. “Who is teaching these practices?” she asks. “How do students feel when they are in them? There’s definitely a privileged, “Lululemon” subculture that exists here and we need to be aware of that.” 

As far as other programs go, whether it’s pond fire chats or another unnamed project involving swings she is secretly plotting, Cracco is full force as long as it is about making connections and forming relationships.  One of her latest efforts is to create quiet dining spaces for groups to eat “family style.”   

“We should be structuring connections at every turn,” she said. Asked about how this work plays out in the classroom, Cracco made an interesting point about technologies like ChatGPT. 

“We are no longer in a system where we have a person who has all the knowledge and people who receive that knowledge, because knowledge is everywhere,” she said. “Now, the process of learning is the process of learning together, like we do in the real world, and that is going to force a structure that is more communal, more experiential.”  

Cracco is optimistic about the wellness work taking place at UMass: “I think people are getting the upstream thing,” she said.  At the same time, the down-to-earth Cracco is realistic about how much can be done, given what she calls “the tyranny of time.” As an example, she leans into her first higher ed job in residential life and compares that to the myriad of duties and trainings that those professionals now need to complete.   

“What these people really want to be doing is making space for students,” she said. “We need professional staff to attend to those crisis situations, and these can be incredibly time consuming. How do we develop the human capital to make space for connection beyond, before and apart from the crises?”

Q&A with Marcus Hotaling, Director of the Eppler-Wolff Counseling Center at Union College and President of AUCCCD

In March 2023, the Association for University and College Counseling Center Directors (AUCCCD) released a policy paper that provides a foundation for structuring how higher education can approach mental health support. “Navigating a Path Forward for Mental Health Services in Higher Education” lays out some of the issues facing the field, including staff burnout and turnover, misallocation of resources, lack of coordination between campus stakeholders, ineffective or incongruous treatment models and the proliferation of third-party vendors. The paper offers some recommendations for addressing these concerns with an overarching theme that campus stakeholders must work together to create a realistic, agreed-upon, campus-wide approach–and then act on that plan with consistent messaging and communication to all constituents. This month, LearningWell (LW) magazine interviewed Dr. Marcus Hotaling, director of the Eppler-Wolff Counseling Center at Union College and president of the AUCCCD, to discuss the paper and “the path forward.”

LW: The AUCCCD recently published a paper that lays out a path forward for college mental health services amid high rates of mental health concerns and help-seeking among college students, and at the same time, increased burnout and dissatisfaction among counselors. What led the AUCCCD to develop this paper?

MH:  I think we’ve all been feeling the burnout for some years. Every year, up until the pandemic, my counseling center was seeing increased utilization—more students and more sessions. And while more students is understandable, we continuously saw more sessions with the same amount of staff, going above the national standard of about 65% face-to-face time for counselor. When I became president of AUCCCD in 2021, we had started to look at themes as to why people were leaving. We have 895 active members. In that first year, 81 of our members left for various reasons. Burnout was a huge factor, due to, in large part, getting pressure from all directions. You’re getting pressure from the students who want to be seen right away. You’re getting pressure from parents calling you. And then you’re getting pressure from the higher-ups who are getting called by parents or faculty members.

We also looked at where these counselors were going. The majority of them, two thirds, left the field of higher education and went into private practice. And there were two factors that led to that. The first was salary—you can make more in private practice. Some people went to the local hospitals and the salary is $50,000 more than their institution was paying. And the second reason was that, when you’re in private practice and you’re full, you just say, “I’m sorry, I’m not accepting new patients.” You can’t do that in a college setting. So, we started to look at the burnout piece and how higher ed and counseling can work together to try to resolve this problem.

LW: What were your goals in issuing this paper? What was it meant to convey?

MH:  We didn’t want to just say, “Colleges, you just need to hire more people,” because we know that’s not realistic. But what is realistic is everybody coming to the table and saying, “What services do we want to offer?” Let’s all be on the same page; let’s all have the same messaging around that, and then let’s actually do that. Because, in the counseling center, we can develop whatever service model we want, but if admissions or faculty or someone else is telling a student they could be seen six times a week, that’s not helpful. If we have people saying there are session limits when we don’t have session limits, that’s not helpful.

It’s important for counseling center leadership and student affairs leadership, and presidents, to come up with a plan of action to determine, based on the staffing we have, what we can provide. There needs to be a plan of action.

LW: The paper points out that colleges are making decisions about the service delivery model based on meeting the volume of demand, rather than taking an outcomes-based approach. Why, in your view, are institutions approaching mental health care that way? 

MH: I think part of it is that, for the most part, it’s really just fallen onto the counseling center staff to say what we need to do. And the reality is, that can be really hard when you don’t have the opportunity to step back and try something different or think about how it can be done differently.

I’m going to use my center as an example. There was one day that I opened up the schedule and there were just tons of appointments. And I said to my associate director, “Look, I’m seeing your schedule today. That’s not healthy. Your last patient is getting nothing from you. You’re exhausted.” So, we sat down over a school break and looked at how to change things. Everything was on the table. And that takes time, and it takes trust. We did get some pushback from our staff, but the approach was to give it a shot until the end of the year. And if it didn’t work, we’d change it again.

The reason why the usual approach is all over the place is that we’re just trying to meet the demand. And it’s like a dam that’s breaking where we plug one hole, and then all of a sudden there’s another hole over here. It’s still coming in; the water’s still flowing. And how many fingers do I have to plug these holes? And it’s only when you can take that step back that you can come up with a new way of doing things.

The demand is so high and you’re just trying to bail water out of the boat before you can actually sit down and plan. And that’s what we were trying to say in this paper: Do the planning, take the initiative to sit down with your leadership and say, “What can I do? What do you want? What does this school want to offer?” And we will work around that with the current staff. And maybe we’ll need to grow staff in the future.

But we are starting to see the numbers fall. One of the positives that came out of the pandemic is that states are starting to look at patients being able to cross over state lines for care. Clinicians are also more comfortable using telehealth and teletherapy. So, if you’ve been working with somebody for a long time, rather than saying, “Go see somebody at college because you’re two hours away,” counselors can continue to see their patients. So, the numbers are falling a little bit, but a little bit from a flood is still a flood.

“Do the planning, take the initiative to sit down with your leadership and say, “What can I do? What do you want? What does this school want to offer?”

LW: You point out that there is a mismatch of expectations, like having admissions promote a certain number of sessions that does not align with the reality of what can be offered. But even if you fix that inconsistency in messaging, do you think there’s also a cultural expectation that students, when they get to college, are going to be cared for in this way and they’re going to have access to therapy? And if so, is there going to be a difficulty in pushing back against that cultural expectation?

MH: Absolutely. Look, students are paying a lot of money to go to college, and with that comes a certain level of expectation across the board. When it comes to the expectations that parents have or families have, we also need to move away from the normalcy that every student is going to get through in four years. And that taking some time off isn’t a bad thing if you’re making good use of that time by working on yourself and getting healthy, so that when you come back, you’re going to be in a better place.

LW: So many issues, like leaves of absence as you suggest, involve more of a public health approach. What is the role of the counseling center in this approach?

MH: This whole thing is a public health problem. And I say that not to remove our responsibility or the individual responsibility of the students or counseling center. There are two reasons I say this is a public health problem. One, counseling centers and mental health for the past 20 years has been pushing for parity. We should be treated just like physical health. Let’s reduce the stigma. And it worked and that’s good. And then you have a challenging outside world. There’s war, there’s political unrest, a recession, a pandemic, school shootings. All these things create anxiety. On top of that, we have these expectations, real or imagined, that everybody else’s life is perfect, which we can see on their Instagram reel.

So, for a public health approach, yes, the community needs to do better about addressing gun violence and addressing systemic racism. But once they’re on our campuses, we can give students the tools to stay happy and healthy, while also recognizing that [every person is] going to have bad days.

We also need to help our constituents around campus recognize when somebody actually needs therapy versus when they might just need empathy or a listening ear. We need to help faculty and staff understand that referring a student to counseling is not the first thing you do. The first thing to do is say, “Are you okay? What do you need? I’m so sorry.”

These are public health approaches that are very, very simple and need no training from a mental health professional. All of us on a college campus can be approaching this from a public health perspective. It’s a public health issue, and now we need to be using our public health solutions.

LW: All of this – counseling staff wellbeing, policies and procedures and service delivery–its all about overall student health, correct? 

MH: Absolutely. Because if we’re not healthy, how are we helping anybody?

And evidence shows that students who utilize mental health services are retained and graduate at a higher percentage than those who don’t receive mental health care. And in theory, those are the students that are most at risk—the ones that are unhappy, the ones that have a mental health diagnosis. In a National Association of Mental Illness report, 64% of students that are no longer enrolled in higher ed list mental health as the main reason. So, it’s about student success as well.

New report on the enduring impact of COVID on the mental wellbeing of emerging adults

In a new paper sponsored by the Ruderman Family Foundation, Jeffrey Arnett, PhD, details the disproportionate and enduring impact of COVID-19 on the mental wellbeing of “emerging adults.” Arnett, a senior research scholar at Clark University, is a uniquely appropriate author for the paper, as he coined the term “emerging adults” over 20 years ago to describe young people in their twenties who exist in the “space between adolescence and young adulthood.” Arnett is also the executive director of the Society for the Study of Emerging Adulthood (SSEA), and author of Emerging Adulthood: The Winding Road from the Late Teens Through the Twenties.

In The Mental Health Effects of COVID-19- A Continuing Crisis, Especially for Emerging Adults ages 18-29, Arnett examined national data from before and during the COVID-19 pandemic from sources such as the CDC, the National Center for Health Statistics, the U.S. Bureau of the Census, the National Opinion Research Center, and the Pew Research Center, as well as numerous longitudinal studies from the literature.  His research showed that psychological distress was consistently higher for young adults ages 18-29 than all older age groups from March 2020 to September 2022, despite that group being at lowest risk physically from the disease.

“You would think that it would be the older people who would be the most affected in their mental health, because they were the most at risk for hospitalization and death during the pandemic, and they still are,” said Arnett in a June interview for the Mary Christie Institute’s podcast, the Quadcast. “It’s actually just the opposite. The oldest Americans are the ones who are least likely to report symptoms of anxiety and depression. Meanwhile, the emerging adults, the 18- to 29-year-olds, were the most affected in terms of their mental health.”

While Arnett said he was initially surprised by the data, he posited a few justifications in the report, starting with the outsize influence of the pandemic’s disruption on people in the midst of an intense developmental period.  While life disruptions were not unique to the age group, Arnett said, “from age 18 to 29, you’re trying to build the structure of an adult life. That’s the age where most people are getting the education that’s going to form the basis of a long-term occupation or profession, when people are moving out of their parents’ household, learning how to function as an adult on their own. It’s the age when people are having romantic relationships, thinking about what they want in a partner. And suddenly, all of this is blown up.”

In the report, Arnett pointed out that this population experienced disruptions or changes to the five features distinctive to the emerging adulthood life stage: identity explorations, during which they explore who they are, “trying out various possible futures;” instability, which was greatly exacerbated by the pandemic; self-focus (specifically in relation to parental ties waning), which veered into loneliness when they were cut off from their friends; feeling in between childhood and adulthood, which was extended during this time period; and optimism and high hopes about future possibilities, which were dimmed by the circumstances surrounding the pandemic.

“You would think that it would be older people who would be the most affected in their mental health, because they were the most at risk for hospitalization and death during the pandemic but it’s actually just the opposite.”

But, while there are clear, reasonable causes for the intense reaction to the initial disruption of the pandemic by emerging adults, Arnett said he was mystified that their rates of anxiety and depression have remained so high. In the paper, he noted that the rates of anxiety and depression for emerging adults remained as high in early 2023 as at the peak of the pandemic before vaccines were available–nearly 40% for anxiety disorder and nearly 35% for depression. (In fact, symptoms have remained above pre-pandemic levels for all adult age groups.) That pattern is continuing even now as the pandemic has waned, the report states. “Even after life has returned to normal in most ways, rates of anxiety and depression are nearly as high as they were at the peak of the pandemic. That was shocking,” he said. “Why do people still feel so bad even though life appears to have gone back to normal in so many ways?” he continued.

The report also highlights subgroups of emerging adults that have disproportionately borne the brunt of the pandemic from a mental wellbeing perspective: women and Asian Americans. Even though young women’s rates of depression and anxiety were already higher than young men before the pandemic, the report states, the gap between them has grown since the pandemic began. Arnett noted that this follows a long-standing pattern in mental health research, in which females report worse mental health outcomes across the spectrum. However, he called the widening of the difference “striking.”

Disturbingly, the pandemic triggered a racist backlash against Asian Americans, which may account for their disproportionate worsening of mental health. In addition to higher rates of mental health issues, most Asian Americans also reported believing that violence against their ethnic group is increasing; almost three quarters said they worry sometimes, almost every day, or every day that they might be threatened or attacked due to their ethnicity.

The paper outlines five recommendations for addressing the current mental health crisis and preparing for the next pandemic. Arnett recommends: reforming the mental health delivery system; expanding and improving teletherapy services; creating a website of resources for parents of emerging adults; improving online learning techniques; and holding a national conference of practitioners and policymakers at colleges and universities that examines which policies and programs were effective and which were not. He also recommends further examination into the phenomenon of why these levels of distress are not subsiding for emerging adults, including in-depth qualitative research with the young people themselves. 

“We need to urgently go forward with interviewing people, not just survey data, not just ‘tell me on a scale of one to five how anxious you feel or how depressed you feel,’ but ‘tell me in your own words why you’re still distressed.’”

Young Professionals of Color Speak Out About Workplace Climates

Understanding how young graduates of color experience their predominantly White workplaces is a critical part of creating flourishing cultures within increasingly diverse work environments.  As corporations and organizations continue to work at this with varying success, the Steve Fund has released a new report that can help guide their efforts.  

In “Supporting the Successful Transition of Young People of Color into the Workforce,” The Steve Fund surveyed 160 young professionals of color on cultural dynamics that affect their wellbeing and, as an extension, their job performance, satisfaction, and retention. The results showed that half of those surveyed reported experiencing microaggressions at their places of employment; and half said they do not feel a sense of inclusion or belonging. These and other findings send a strong message to employers about the DEI work that lies ahead, despite increased efforts on the part of employers to attract and retain professionals of color. 

“We know that employers face challenges reaching recruitment and retention goals and young people of color face challenges transitioning into the workforce,” said Evan Rose, president and co-founder of the Steve Fund, the nation’s leading organization focused on supporting the mental health and emotional wellbeing of young people of color.  “These interrelated challenges present us with an opportunity to leverage the talents of a diverse workforce for growth and support young employees of color in inclusive and culturally responsive ways.”

In addition to the survey findings, the new report outlines a detailed framework for how employers can respond to what young professionals of color are reporting while creating more inclusive workplaces that will help attract and retain young people of color.  Like the “Equity in Mental Health Framework,” which has helped colleges and universities customize strategies that support the mental health of college students of color, the Steve Fund has taken a similar approach for young people transitioning into the workforce, helping employers better prepare for them with tools and resources that foster equity, inclusion, accountability, and mental health.  

“A key benefit to this work is that it connects what colleges and universities are doing to support the mental health and wellbeing of students of color with what employers want and need to do in the workplace,” said Dr. Paula Johnson, president of Wellesley College, a liberal arts college that has been a leader in inclusive excellence, with a focus on students’ mental health. “By drawing those connections and building on the mutual learning that results, we can work to maintain the gains we’ve made with young people of color who enter work environments that may hamper their sense of belonging and impede their ability to thrive.”

Stress, Belonging, and Mental Health

Marcus had been a few months into his first job out of college when he was asked to join his boss and a few other colleagues for lunch.  He remembers being excited to be included among the group of executives and was feeling good about the way he had handled himself.  Then, one of the executives complimented him on being articulate, saying, as if with surprise, “Wow, you really have an excellent vocabulary.” Marcus, who is Black, felt the familiar sting.  “After that, I was completely deflated,” he said.  “I just wanted to get out of there.”  Not long after the incident, he switched jobs. 

An underlying issue that influences these findings is the lack of diversity within the corporate workforce.

Unfortunately, Marcus’ experience is all too common as the Steve Fund survey bears out. Participants were asked to respond to questions relating to four key workplace dynamics: perception of workplace discrimination; experiences of isolation and belonging; need for psychological safety; and importance of cultural competence.   Among the findings, 50% reported experiencing microaggressions, 30% said work stress impacts their emotional wellness, 50% said they don’t feel a sense of inclusion and belonging at their place of employment, and 30% reported spending time looking for another job.   

Other findings are instructive in helping employers understand where, specifically, professionals of color are looking for change.  Half of young professionals said that management doesn’t foster a workplace that allows employees to be themselves; half also report not knowing where to go if they experience discrimination; and 41% said they do not have access to culturally competent mental health resources.  One in three young employees does not feel emotionally supported at work.

An underlying issue that influences these findings is the lack of diversity within the corporate workforce—a tenacious problem that leaders throughout the country are continuing to grapple with.  According to the report, Blacks make up about 10% of college degree holders, but only 3.2% of executives/senior level managers.  Employees of color also have high attrition rates. People of color and younger employees were more likely to have quit their jobs in 2021; feeling disrespected was a key reason for leaving.  The report cites more than three in ten young employees of color (Black and Latinx) experience discrimination at work, leading to increased levels of stress, anxiety, and hopelessness.  

The upside of creating workplaces that disrupt these trends is not lost on competitive companies, which is why organizations are reaching out to sources like the Steve Fund for help. The report cites research showing that workplaces that cultivate a culture of belonging experience higher levels of creativity, innovation, and profitability.  Employees who feel emotionally supported at work are less likely to experience mental health symptoms, less likely to underperform, have higher job satisfaction, and are more likely to stay at their companies. 

“Marcus, who is Black, felt the familiar sting. ‘After that, I was completely deflated,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to get out of there.’ Not long after the incident, he switched jobs.”

“It’s pretty simple,” said Dr. Jessica Isom. “Any time a person cares about something and is invested in something, they are going to show up better as an individual, contribute better as a team member, and overall contribute to a better outcome. That has to be grounded in what we all need as humans, which are genuine, authentic interactions. That’s what we thrive on.  And I think everybody can appreciate that.”  Isom said the absence of those positive interactions in the workplace, coupled with mental health strains brought on by systemic racism, cause young professionals of color to protect themselves by leaving. 

Dr. Isom is a board-certified community psychiatrist and one of the Steve Fund’s multicultural mental health experts. She holds a faculty role at the Yale School of Medicine, where she also trained, and co-directs the Social Justice and Health Equity Curriculum (SJHE), addressing workforce development of psychiatrists to address mental health disparities.  

“Conversations around building diverse workplaces tend to focus on desiring diversity, which is really focused on recruitment, the idea of inviting people in,” she said. “What we need to be thinking about is how to be a good host, and that means understanding who you are inviting in and what their needs are.”  

Tracy Burns, chief executive officer of the Northeast Human Resources Association (NEHRA), agrees that as earnest as employers are to attract diverse talent, more focus needs to be placed on how that talent is received and how those employees of color experience workplace cultures.  “Efforts to attract young professionals of color do not end when the offer is accepted. Employers need to build a comprehensive and sustainable approach that takes into consideration the “whole person” and fosters an environment where differences are recognized, respected, and even celebrated. This report offers both critical data that all employers should be aware of as well as concrete recommendations that can help direct your DEI efforts towards a more meaningful outcome.”

“(This work) has to be grounded in what we all need as humans, which are genuine, authentic interactions. That’s what we thrive on. And I think everybody can appreciate that.”

The Steve Fund report recommends a myriad of strategies, ranging from overarching principles like weaving mental health and racial equity into the corporate blueprint and empowering leadership to support healthy workplaces to specific strategies that address each of the issues uncovered in the survey.  These include equipping managers to make wellness at work an everyday priority; investing in mentoring at every stage in career development; and creating “wellness mentors” who are peers trained by multicultural mental health experts to provide culturally competent support and connect employees to resources.  

Dr. Isom provides an example of changes employers can make as she imagines a different outcome for Marcus and his boss at the corporate lunch.  “One of the recommendations in the report is about building a senior leadership bench that is able to facilitate the progression of young people of color.  It is even more important that individuals in leadership positions reduce their level of obliviousness to their own experiences and then arm themselves with what’s necessary to support a young person of color throughout their journey.  Because of their power and influence, their actions will have a ripple effect throughout the whole organization.”   

The Steve Fund’s mission is to promote the mental health and emotional wellbeing of young people of color as they transition from adolescence into higher education, throughout their higher education experience, and as they transition into the workforce so they can attain personal, academic, and career success and achieve their full potential. The Steve Fund works with colleges and universities, nonprofits, researchers, mental health experts, families, and young people to promote programs and strategies that build understanding and assistance for the mental and emotional health of the nation’s young people of color.

When Supporters Struggle

The chair of the department wasn’t herself. This was clear to her advisees, who noticed their professor becoming disengaged and disorganized, and inconsistent in following through with paperwork and information. They suspected it might have something to do with the campus tragedy: A student in one of the professor’s classes had died by suicide earlier in the year, and she was taking it hard.

“I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, but I didn’t want to make her more upset,” said a sophomore advisee. “So, I found other ways to get the information instead of bothering her.”

There is much concern these days about the mental health of college students, and with good reason. During the 2020–2021 school year, more than 60% of college students matched the criteria for at least one mental health problem, according to a study by the Healthy Minds Network (HMN), and meeting demands for treatment is a challenge for counseling centers. 

Less discussed, however, is the mental health of the faculty and staff. As the adults who see the students regularly, they are uniquely positioned to see whether their students are thriving, or seem out of sorts, or even attending class consistently. Which is an added stressor in work upended by the pandemic, on a career path already paved with unusual professional strain.

 “There’s an old saying, ‘A good teacher is like a candle—it consumes itself to light the way for others,’” said a sociology professor in Washington, D.C. “I don’t think whoever coined that phrase had this kind of ‘consuming’ in mind.” 

These days, faculty members are consumed with whether the students are okay, why they aren’t showing up for class, and how to handle the deluge of requests for accommodations, extensions, and exceptions. Recent political, racial, and harassment tensions have brought not just campus unrest, but also inquiries, investigations, and lawsuits. Many professors’ own work and research went dead in the water with COVID. The sociology professor counted four colleagues who’d either retired early in the wake of COVID or left teaching for the private sector, citing better pay and a more sane work-life balance. “Most of the burnout I’m hearing about doesn’t even have much to do with teaching itself.”

Or as one English department head put it, “The job you’re responsible for today is not the same job you got hired for 20 years ago.”

Studying the teachers: Who’s supporting the supporters?

After its survey of student mental health, HMN partnered with the Boston University School of Public Health (BUSPH) and the Mary Christie Institute (MCI) on a survey of faculty perspectives on the state of student mental and behavioral health. Findings published in 2022 show that about 80% of faculty members reported having had conversations in the past year with students about their mental health. And one in five reported that supporting students in emotional distress has taken a toll on their own mental health. 

“Classroom environments are one of the only places that every student is actually present. So, the vast majority of faculty are in this role of contact in some capacity,” said Sarah Lipson, an associate professor at BUSPH and a principal investigator of the study. “It was really important to have data to say we know that faculty are already playing a role in supporting student mental health; we no longer need to guess as to whether or not that’s happening. And I think probably without data we would underestimate how common it is.” 

“There’s an old saying, ‘A good teacher is like a candle—it consumes itself to light the way for others,’ I don’t think whoever coined that phrase had this kind of ‘consuming’ in mind.”

It isn’t surprising that faculty members report feeling like their work goes well beyond typical job hours and boundaries; student expectations of faculty extend further than the classroom. According to a Student Voice survey by College Pulse with Inside Higher Ed, students are looking to their professors for more than course content. More than half sought introductions to people working in their fields of interest, while 45% wanted professors to hear them on personal matters and to consider making accommodations because of them; and 28% hoped for help navigating college life. 

Navigating college life can cover a lot of ground for an unhappy student looking for a helping hand. Last fall, a professor at Texas Christian University received a disturbing email from a student saying thank you for everything the professor had done for him, but closing by saying he was going to jump off a parking garage. TCU had lost a student in a similar way a few years before, and kicked into emergency mode trying to locate the student and stake out all the possible garages. As it turns out, the student’s walking route toward the football stadium garage passed the counseling center where he’d just begun an on-campus IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program). He made a spontaneous decision to go into the counseling center instead, said Eric Wood, director of mental health counseling at TCU—a significant benefit to having an on-campus IOP. Still, the email and frantic galvanizing was a shot of adrenaline that carries the lasting weight of stress and responsibility—pressure felt by faculty and staff, and of course, counselors.

Greg Eells was the beloved director of Cornell University’s counseling center for more than 15 years. In March of 2019, he left to take a similar position at the University of Pennsylvania. His marching orders there: to increase capacity; decrease the time between a first consultation and a first counseling appointment; better distinguish short-term care, long-term care, and other kinds of wellness care; and expand the availability of phone, video, texting and app-based technologies that can be accessed anywhere, at any time, to support students in crisis. Eells also taught both graduate and undergraduate students in courses on counseling and psychology. No small balancing act, but he was a known superstar. Eells had also served as chair of the Mental Health Section of the American College Health Association, and won the Association for University and College Counseling Center Director’s Award for Excellence. 

The September after his move, both campuses were shocked to learn that he’d jumped to his death from a building near his new home in Philadelphia. His suicide devastated colleagues, and sparked soul-searching about the pressures of being a campus therapist, a constant watchdog. It also opened up a thoughtful dialogue on expectations we hold of the people looked upon to always be the strongest in the room.

An editorial in The Daily Pennsylvanian expressed well the pressure on caregivers to have it all together, all the time. 

“The capacity of helpers to give sound advice, to listen attentively, and to go out of their way to help others leads us to believe they must be healthy themselves. The qualities we attribute to the helpers in our lives ultimately feed into the assumption they are immune to the problems and emotions we all face,” the editorial wrote. “While it may be easy to assume that helpers are invincible, it’s also dangerous. It’s one of the reasons we don’t think to check in with them and don’t remind ourselves that they’re human, too. People who give a lot of themselves to help others can experience pain, love, and hurt as we all do.”

COVID habits and harms 

It’s been well documented that COVID was a strange and challenging time for education. From the university professor’s standpoint, it was a two-headed beast: learning to host classes online, from your side of the unfamiliar platform, and trying to remain connected with the struggling people in the squares on the other side. Being a faculty member during COVID meant having students who may or may not show up for class, and not knowing why. It meant not knowing who was living on campus or off, with or without a decent support network (or wifi network). It meant all the complicated communications that come with masking, especially hard for students with hearing loss or for whom English isn’t a first language. And now, post-COVID, it means contending with lackluster student commitment, and not knowing how much of the ongoing absenteeism, missing skills, and requests for grade leniency should be excused with accommodations. 

“One of the ancillary effects many of my colleagues talk about is that students don’t seem to believe in deadlines anymore, and it’s like the time online made it seem as though you don’t really have to come to campus anymore,” said John Hess, a senior lecturer in the English department at UMass Boston. He lost his youngest brother early during the pandemic, and was very empathetic to COVID’s effects on students and their families. “The faculty really, really care a great deal. They worry about their students and are very committed to student success. And so, when students don’t come to class, or when they don’t get the work done on time, it’s not just that it annoys us; it’s that they’re cheating themselves and missing out.”

Professors were also a natural target for student frustration during the pandemic. After all, they were the single point of official school contact via squares on a computer. 

“During the midst of COVID, you definitely saw a lot of high expectation of instant responses and a lot of demands, for lack of a better word, about how things should be,” said Eric Wood, director of TCU’s counseling center. “There was a lot of pressure for faculty and administration to know all the answers. Everyone was scrambling, and students would say, ‘You should know the answer.’ It’s a global pandemic. But kids were expecting immediate support and help.”

And if professors weren’t able to provide answers or respond in a satisfying way, their ratings went down—ratings that are taken into consideration for performance reviews and tenure. 

“Anonymous reviews can be brutal,” said David Kroll, professor of Pharmacology and director of Master’s & Certificate Programs at University of Colorado Skaggs School of Pharmacy & Pharmaceutical Sciences. Kroll, a sometime contributor to Forbes magazine, wrote a 2013 article “Top 10 reasons Why Being a University Professor is a Stressful Job.” Anonymous reviews—which influence everything from tenure, publication, and grant applications—were one of them, as was the business of securing funding for one’s research, which COVID has only exacerbated. 

Professors were also a natural target for student frustration during the pandemic. After all, they were the single point of official school contact via squares on a computer.

“Faculty are expected to bring in grant funding for their own research. Research flatlined during COVID. You have your research team, you have your lab, and all of a sudden, you can’t do any of it. If another university is managing to do it, then you are at a competitive disadvantage,” he said. “And funding is an issue that has gotten worse since then because of the rise in costs. So, they also have a financial pressure that’s a barrier to the tenure process. We lost someone recently because they couldn’t get funding for their research. Being a faculty member in the sciences is like being a small business owner.”

Wellness in the sciences and beyond

The sciences have unique pressures, based on funding and research-related outcomes. This in part prompted eLife, a global nonprofit committed to improving the way research is reviewed and communicated, to undertake a 2020 report on mental health in academia. The report focused on those who support colleagues struggling with their mental health. Of 1,500 faculty members surveyed at varying roles and levels of seniority, two-thirds of respondents said they had supported two or more coworkers who were struggling. Of those who identified as being early-career research academics, 47% said they were struggling with their own mental health at the same time. Of more senior respondents, nearly 25% said they were struggling themselves.

“I am repeatedly frustrated by my (often male) colleagues’ stated belief that ‘there is no mental health problem’ at our institution,” wrote one female mid-career respondent in the survey. “They don’t know about it because their trainees come to me, not to them, with their issues. I receive no institutional recognition for this role.”

In an essay that accompanied the report, an associate professor at the Brain Mind Institute at the Ecole Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne in Lausanne, Switzerland wrote with striking honesty about the stress and mental health challenges that contributed to two heart attacks. He was not yet 50 years old. 

“As young scientists taking on a faculty position, we quickly transition from being a team member to a team leader; from never worrying about securing funding to being overwhelmed with grant deadlines; from managing a single project to planning and guiding the work and careers of several students and post-docs; from worrying about ourselves to being absorbed in worrying about everything except our wellness. The great majority of us have never developed a course or taught classes on our own, yet we are all expected to assume these responsibilities,” wrote Hilal A. Lashuel, associate professor and director of the Laboratory of Molecular and Chemical Biology of Neurodegeneration. 

“The life of a professor is a constant balancing act, where we try to juggle personal and professional responsibilities under the pervasive stress of managing expectations in an often hypercompetitive culture. There is always a fear that we may drop the ball, a sense that if that were to happen, we would be alone and the only one to blame,” he said. 

Climbing with no clear footing

Achieving tenure is, for most professors, the natural progression and Holy Grail. Tenure track positions are hard to secure; they don’t open up very often, and they represent a financial and professional security that’s hard to replicate in other industries. And yet, it’s an elusive and constantly moving target. This is why, COVID aside, it’s a career path paved with unusually high stress and unpredictability.

“The importance of tenure can’t be overstated. That sort of freedom is remarkable. Pre-tenure, your entire life is centered on getting tenure, in terms of your research, however that’s defined. That is the central focus of your life. Everything counts, but you never know exactly what the bar is, even if it’s explained to you. There are no real guarantees,” explained one music department chair at a highly selective university. “It’s ultimately a question of how you are viewed by other people in your field. What’s your personal reputation? And it really has very little to do with your teaching, per se. If you are an amazing researcher and a terrible teacher, you will still get tenure. If you’re a mediocre researcher and a wonderful teacher, you will not get tenure.” 

Or, as another professor put it, once you have tenure, you’re free to finally speak your mind.

But the shine on tenure is seeing some tarnish these days, with the nation’s political climate impacting freedom of speech in academia. Even back in 2013, Kroll included it on his Top 10 list for Forbes, and he said it’s even more true today. 

“We cannot take care of our students if we do not learn how to take care of ourselves.”

“The political climate is attacking academic freedoms, minimizing the protections of tenure. Universities are finding ways of getting rid of people whose views they don’t agree with,” Kroll said. “I know faculty members who’ve decided they’d rather work in the private sector for that reason.”

If you are a faculty member who then gets asked to be a department head, you have an entirely new learning curve ahead—and you are largely on your own. Learning to become an administrator is not something professors are born knowing how to do, and there’s rarely instruction or mentoring.

“Becoming an administrator is an entirely different skill set in a career where you’re not trained to do this,” explained the music department chair. “Suddenly, overnight, you’re a manager. The first couple of years I made mistakes, or just approaches that were not productive, so I’ve learned what does and what does not work. Truly on-the-job training. Some larger departments are able to have associate chairs and steps to start to train their faculty. But if you’re a small department, you usually don’t have that option.”

His learning curve included a lot of travel for fundraising, a lot of communication around the Black Lives Matter and Me Too movements, and being the department’s point person on about 40 cases in litigation, going back through events of the past 15 years. “As luck would have it, for me, there were additional stressors that are particular to this moment in history, even before the pandemic. I was completely burned out, and I was overdue for a break,” he said. He ended up taking an emergency sabbatical. “A lot of hard aspects of teaching have nothing to do with teaching. And it wears you down.”

Supportive solutions

Many institutions continue to offer expanded and innovative mental health benefits and services to faculty and administration—though unlike students, in most cases, they need to travel beyond the campus to take advantage of them. It’s not as if a professor is likely to sit elbow-to-elbow with their students in the Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS) office, waiting to meet with a counselor who is their own colleague at the school. Some universities have changed their offerings to include an in-house Employee Assistance Program (EAP), or a personalized referral service to identify local counselors who have strength in a desired specialty. 

But the most pressing request identified by the BUSPH survey is for training in being an effective supporter, as 73% of faculty say they would welcome additional professional development on the topic of student mental health. Responses make clear that faculty feel a responsibility to help students dealing with mental health concerns, which contradicts a long-held assumption that faculty do not see this as “their job.” Additionally, peer support and ambassador programs that involve training staff and faculty would help them recognize and respond to mental health crises in their colleagues.

But at the end of the day, it’s up to the individual to be willing to reach out for help. 

“As faculty, we cannot take care of our students,” wrote Hilal A Lashuel of Ecole Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne, “if we do not learn how to take care of ourselves.”

A Public Health Approach to the Campus Mental Health Crisis

The numbers are startling. Mental health challenges among United States college students increased by more than 100% in eight years, with the largest increase seen among non-white students, according to a recent study by the Healthy Minds Network. And, while the good news is that more students are seeking help and the stigma around mental illness is slowly fading, demand for support services far outpaces supply, particularly for students of color. 

As president of American University (AU), these numbers keep me up at night. I don’t have to look at the data to know that mental health challenges can impact every aspect of our students’ lives. I see these impacts across our campus every day, and I know others are experiencing similar trends on campuses across our nation. 

If we’re going to create and implement long-term solutions that address both the supply and the demand issues, we need to apply the same three-pronged approach we have used in other public health crises: prevention, detection, and response.  

At the same time, we must ensure we’re differentiating what services are needed throughout every stage of our approach by understanding the unique needs of each individual student, and by accurately assessing their situation to provide an appropriate level of care.   

At AU, our approach to prevention begins with a comprehensive focus on the whole person. Student thriving is a campuswide priority. We ask ourselves: What does our unique population of students need to be healthy physically, mentally, and socially? 

If we’re going to create and implement long-term solutions that address both the supply and the demand issues, we need to apply the same three-pronged approach we have used in other public health crises: prevention, detection, and response.

We are finding creative ways to meet those needs in our campus environment—from our 84-acre campuswide arboretum that provides space for our community to gather, engage, and recharge; to our specialty housing communities that bring students together to live and explore a common interest or academic pursuit. 

We know that financial challenges cause stress for many of our students. We’re working to address this stress through the Elevate Scholarship Initiative, a philanthropic effort to raise $25 million—matched by another $25 million from the university—to support undergraduate students enrolled at AU who are experiencing financial hardships. 

And we’re working to create a sense of inclusion and belonging throughout our community to ensure that our students have support networks that both help to counter feelings of loneliness and depression and provide opportunities to seek, and find, assistance.  

We believe that detection must be a community effort—our Care Network empowers all AU community members to identify students experiencing mental health and other challenges and help them access the assistance they need. 

And, as part of our strategic focus on scholarship, learning, and community, we’re working to address the root causes of this crisis on a macro level. Our faculty are at the cutting-edge of mental health research—from Dr. Terry Davidson’s work with the Center for Behavioral Neuroscience, which is poised to transform our understanding of addiction; to Dr. Kate Gunthert’s work with the Stress and Emotion Lab, which uses intensive daily monitoring techniques to better understand and address symptoms of depression. 

We also know that a comprehensive response is important, both in terms of providing timely and effective care, and being thoughtful about what we can do with our resources. Above all, we anchor our response in the idea of the whole student and our values of inclusion.

When students access our services, the first step is a solid initial assessment from a strong clinical team. We offer both individual and group therapy, with specific services for specific populations, such as racially-diverse clinicians who are skilled at providing services to students of color at predominantly white institutions, or through our use of technology to connect our students with a licensed clinician any time of the day or night. 

If we are to make progress on this crisis, we need to know what success looks like by asking ourselves crucial questions about growth, responsibility, and accountability. College students need to be supported and challenged to develop intellectually, socially, and morally. The college experience shouldn’t be so overwhelming that our students retreat and ultimately face mental health challenges, or so comfortable that there is no incentive to grow.  

And we must embrace the power of communities to act as the ultimate prevention tool—study after study has shown that building inclusive communities creates the social connections our students need to develop resiliency, be challenged and supported, and ultimately become the changemakers of tomorrow. 

Together, we can learn from today’s numbers and create a new story of mental health and wellness for our students.

Sylvia Mathews Burwell is the 15th president of American University and the first woman to serve as president. She previously served as Secretary of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and as Director of the Office of Management and Budget.