Colleges with Character

This is the first in a series of stories on the Educating Character Initiative and the efforts of its member institutions.

Commencement season has come and gone and, with it, higher education’s annual homage to values such as good citizenship, service, and personal integrity. As in their mission statements and matriculation materials, colleges often summon these character virtues, but rarely do they teach students how to incorporate them into their lives. 

As higher education continues its self-reflection amidst an onslaught of external criticism, there is a growing movement to revive the idea of teaching character to college students, though questions abound. What would that look like in the modern university? Does “character” mean ethics? Civic engagement? Holistic learning? And how would the idea take root within a diverse array of institutions?   

The epicenter for this exploration is Wake Forest University’s Educating Character Initiative (ECI), a national network of colleges and universities committed to putting character at the center of higher education. The intra-institutional network is part of Wake Forest’s Program for Leadership and Character (PLC), an undergraduate and graduate-level research, teaching, and learning initiative with a mission to “inspire, educate, and empower leaders of character to serve humanity.” 

In 2023, the program received a $30.7 million grant from Lilly Endowment Inc. to expand its work, $23 million of which allowed it to award grants to other institutions to create or strengthen character education on their campuses. In 2024, the ECI awarded nearly $18 million to colleges and universities in a number of categories, including teacher-scholar grants to individuals and capacity-building and institutional impact grants to institutions. This spring, another $2 million was awarded for teacher-scholar and capacity-building grants, and this summer, the ECI will award the 2025 institutional impact grants, which provide schools funding between $100,000 and $1 million.  

Among those eligible for the funding are public and private research universities, minority-serving institutions, liberal arts colleges, community colleges, military schools, and faith-based institutions. This growing number of grantees has formed the basis of a national learning community, led by staff at Wake Forest, that is a laboratory of sorts for the ways in which character education is interpreted, taught, and internalized in diverse environments. 

“The creation of the ECI has allowed us to catalyze a national movement around character,” said Michael Lamb, executive director of the PLC. “We are not just giving colleges and universities funding. We are giving them the tools and support to educate character in ways that work for them and their unique cultures.”  

Jennifer Rothschild is the director of the ECI and leads the high-touch process that keeps the network humming with what she calls “a parade of consultation.” Grantees, and would-be grantees, participate in webinars, conferences, site visits, and numerous phone calls with ECI staff. A philosopher by training, Rothschild relishes the process that goes into bringing character ideas to life, whether by helping to develop faculty training to incorporate character into courses or giving schools license to be creative and flexible about terms or scholarly definitions.  

“Some of our schools are far along in this work,” Rothschild said. “Others have a need and an idea. Our job is to find the thing that clicks for them. We ask lots of questions: ‘What do your students need? What do you want your students to be able to do and feel? Where are the obstacles to this work on your campus? What are your strengths and expertise?’” 

For Heather Keith, executive director of faculty development at Radford University, the ECI helped sharpen the focus of an existing program called Wicked Problems, where students consider ways to approach intractable issues like climate change and social injustice.  

“Students were learning a lot of discreet skills like problem solving and critical thinking,” Keith said. “But we wanted them to think about these problems in character terms like hope and moral courage.” The grant from the ECI funded a faculty workshop called Active Hope to help students understand how to be part of the solution in ways that, Keith said, “made them feel empowered, not just in despair.”  

Keith said the ECI has provided a community for people doing this work and the chance to be part of something bigger. “I developed a network at ECI that I never had before,” she said. “It feels like there is a revitalization of character in higher education, and ECI is at the forefront of it.” 

Character’s Comeback

To achieve the individualized character education Rothschild describes, the ECI uses what it calls a “contextually sensitive” approach. Avoiding being prescriptive about this work may be the key to reseeding it within higher education, which is both curious and cautious about the concept. 

Avoiding being prescriptive about this work may be the key to reseeding it within higher education, which is both curious and cautious about the concept. 

In an educational environment dominated by credentialling and return on investment, teaching college students to become good human beings may seem as dated as parietals. Character education has been in decline since the mid-century,  as higher education focused more on research and less on teaching and personal development. Campuses became a reflection of a more pluralistic, secular society, which made talking about virtues awkward, if not fraught. And while helping students develop traits like honesty and responsibility may seem universally acceptable, character education has become one more term caught in the crosshairs of higher education’s culture wars.  

“When I first said the words ‘character education’ at my previous public university, people immediately reacted poorly to it because they thought it was code for some kind of agenda,” said Aaron Cobb, the senior scholar of character at the ECI. He noted that the ECI welcomes grantees across the ideological spectrum. “I was like, ‘No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the formation of the student as a whole person.’” 

Additionally, the notion of colleges stewarding personal growth may come off as coddling or indoctrination. Indeed, the lack of a common language around the concept feeds its vulnerability to misinterpretation and is something the ECI is working to address.

In the book “Cultivating Virtue in the University,” Michael Lamb, along with Jonathan Brant and Edward Brooks, helps clarify the meaning of character education: “The aim of character education is not to displace students’ reflective capacity to choose but to equip them to choose wisely and well. As such, character education in universities should not be taken to imply a didactic pedagogy or the undermining of student autonomy, but the opposite. Character education at the tertiary level should be critical and dialogical, with full recognition and encouragement of students’ own moral identity, judgement and responsibility and an emphasis on intellectual analysis and critical engagement.” 

In his work at the PLC, Lamb frequently communicates both the need for character education and the value of it. The Request for Proposal (RFP) for the ECI, which he co-wrote, includes references to a survey administered by the Higher Education Research Institute at UCLA, which found that 85 percent of 20,000 faculty across 143 four-year institutions said they “agree” or “strongly agree” that it is important for faculty to develop students’ “moral character” and “help students develop personal values.” 

In its invitation to institutions, the ECI identifies several desired outcomes for institutions wanting to take this on: “Intentional efforts to educate character can support student wellbeing and flourishing, sustain academic excellence and integrity, promote equitable and inclusive communities, foster good leadership and citizenship, advance career preparation and vocational discernment, and encourage the responsible use of technology.” 

For many colleges and universities throughout the country, these outcomes are even more desirable amidst the youth mental health crisis, disengagement among students, employers’ disappointment in the lack of “well-roundedness” in young workers, and the myriad of practical and ethical issues surrounding the proliferation of generative AI. For others still, the most compelling reason for reviving character in higher education is to stem the erosion of character witnessed by countless examples in everyday life.  

In interviewing over 2,000 students for their book “The Real World of College,” Wendy Fischman and Howard Gardner found that most students had a transactional view of college and a preoccupation with themselves. “In general, we found students to be preoccupied with themselves and their own problems, showing little concern for broader communities and societal challenges,” Fischman said.

Fischman believes character interventions can be effective ways of moving students from “I” to “we,” if the initiatives are well-understood and carefully assessed. “We are in need of these programs more than ever. By supporting and connecting them through a facilitated network like ECI, individuals and schools can learn from one another’s efforts, rather than reinvent the wheel. An essential piece of this work is assessment — to understand what’s working so that we can build on the effective approaches.”

Fischman and Gardner, who work for The Good Project at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, are part of a growing thought leadership community around character that includes, among others, the Jubilee Centre at the University of Birmingham, the Human Flourishing Program at Harvard, the Oxford Character Project, the Institute for Social Concerns at the University of Notre Dame, and now the ECI. National funders concerned about the state of character and ethics fuel this work, including the Kern Family Foundation and the John Templeton Foundation, both of which have given millions to Wake Forest and others.  

In issuing its substantial investment in the ECI, Lilly Endowment CEO N. Clay Robbins said, “We are living in a moment of deep cultural and political polarization and increasing distrust of leaders and institutions.” He described the aim of the award as “educating a new generation of morally and ethically grounded leaders to rebuild trust and enhance civic engagements.” 

Character in Action

Perhaps the strongest evidence of the current appetite for character education is the response to the ECI’s RFP. In 2024, its first grant year, the ECI received nearly 140 proposals from institutions across the country. Asked if she was surprised by the reaction, Rothschild said, “Yes, definitely. We hoped for 40 or so proposals, enough good ones to enable the awarding of the funds Lilly entrusted us for that year. What happened was we received an overwhelming number of proposals of exceptional quality.”  

To meet the unexpected response, Lilly awarded an additional $12.4 million in funds, primarily to supplement the 2024 awards. The money went to 18 minority serving institutions, two military academies, one community college, 23 faith-affiliated institutions, 24 public institutions, and five multi-institutional projects. 

The “point people” behind these numbers are a mix of faculty, administrators, teaching and learning professionals, and student affairs personnel. Aaron Cobb, who leads the programming the ECI schools participate in, said he is pleased that almost all of the initiatives are “all-campus” efforts. The eagerness of the grantees and prospective partners to understand and execute on the work translates into continuous contact with ECI staff. Since January, Cobb alone has held 159 total coaching/consultation/prospective partnership meetings, averaging about eight sessions a week. The work has proven fruitful for many, as some schools that received a capacity-building grant have returned with proposals for institutional impact grants this year. 

Rothschild said what she finds exciting about the growing learning community is the energy and ideas people new to the conversation are bringing in. “These are not only traditional character people who are reaching back to Aristotle, though of course we have and love those, too,” she said. “What unites these efforts is an understanding that character is a matter of concern for both the individual and the common good.”  

“What unites these efforts is an understanding that character is a matter of concern for both the individual and the common good.”

Cobb agreed, saying, “I’ve learned so much about character from people who may be doing it under a different name and are teaching me more about what it means.”

For faculty members Ted Hadzi-Antich and Arun John at Austin Community College, the prospect of an ECI grant meant pursuing their passion to bring liberal arts-like reflection to the community college experience through revisions to their general education program. 

“For our students, completing general education is likely to be the only opportunity for the kind of interdisciplinary study they get to reflect upon what it means to be a human being and what kind of human being they want to be,” Hadzi-Antich said.

Character education is just as necessary for the community college population, Hadzi-Antich believes, yet much less available. He noted that when he and John turned to existing research to complete their application, they found plenty of references to four-year institutions but nothing about character in community colleges.  

The capacity-building grant they received from the ECI has allowed them to bring faculty together across disciplines to create curriculum to identify, name, and cultivate character for students in all classes, including math and science. While there was some confusion at first about how to do the work, Hadzi-Antich said there were no concerns about it being well-received. 

“In the community college setting, we see character in terms of intellectual virtues like curiosity, open-mindedness, and intellectual humility, and there’s nothing controversial about that,” he said. 

Reflection is a big part of the program Austin Community College is running. “We encourage students to take a step back and ask questions like, ‘Why am I doing this? What am I trying to achieve here?’ We can now give these opportunities to community college students, who so deeply deserve it and are very, very open to it,” John said.

Anna Moreland, a humanities professor at Villanova University, had a very different motivation for joining the ECI. Already part of the character community, Villanova, which is an Augustinian Catholicinstitution, used the grant to form a year-long faculty and staff workshop to understand what was distinctive about educating Augustinian character. The effort was not without its challenges. 

“There were folks on our grant writing team that were worried that the Augustinian values were going to become a subset of the ECI values. And that’s where we had some very serious, very hard-hitting conversations,” Moreland said. 

She said working through this dissonance actually produced the opposite result in the development of five distinctive Augustinian virtues. “This laid the groundwork for the possibility of people at Villanova to contribute in a distinctive way to the educating character conversation, nationally and internationally.” 

The process of discovery may be as inspiring as the outcome. “The effort brought us together in a way that I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced at Villanova,” Moreland said. “It was a really profound experience.”

More about the ECI when our series continues. 

Knitting in Class

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Experience U

The first time Willow Clark had been outside of the United States was as a second-year college student on a semester abroad in Costa Rica. Her experience there working for an indigenous women’s organization and living with an indigenous host family changed her life in ways she could not have imagined. It also gave her the confidence and the motivation to pursue a number of other experiential learning opportunities in her remaining years at Nazareth University, a liberal arts institution in Rochester, New York.

Clark will graduate from Nazareth next month having participated in 13 experiential learning programs, five of which were study abroad. As impressive as this sounds—and is—Clark’s experience with travel and service is the norm at Nazareth, where students begin experiential learning as early as their first year.  

To Nazareth University President Beth Paul, what could be construed as a resume-stacking exercise at some schools is the path to personal growth at hers. “Experiential learning is at the core of what we do,” she said. “While it is still a ‘checkbox’ at many institutions, here it is a dominant form of learning.”

It has long been established that experiential learning (EL) in college, typically in the form of internships, study away and service learning, produces positive outcomes, such as improved retention, engagement, graduation rates, and career preparation. Yet, despite the evidence, experiential learning has not been adopted as a fundamental pillar of higher education for a variety of reasons: it can be resource intensive; require extra work on the part of students and the school; and be intimidating for those who have not had much exposure to learning outside the classroom. The result is an uneven distribution of EL opportunities that are often limited to the privileged or the highly motivated. 

Nazareth, on the other hand, felt the evidence of the benefits of EL was so compelling that it was the school’s moral responsibility to offer it to all students. To achieve this goal, the school has implemented a systemic approach to EL that addresses each of its typical barriers by integrating it into the curriculum, matching it to students’ interests, making it accessible to all students, and starting early. As reflected in the 2023 journal article, “Sparking Early Experiential Learning:  Enhancing College Student Participation Through Support, Structure and Choice,” Nazareth has “flipped the narrative” on experiential learning by making it the responsibility of the institution, not the student, and by offering it to everyone, including those who participate the least and may benefit the most.

Nazareth felt the evidence on the benefits of EL was so compelling it was the school’s moral responsibility to offer it to all students.

Experiential Roots 

Nazareth’s intentionality around experiential learning is part of its DNA. Founded as a Catholic school by the Sisters of Saint Joseph in 1924, Nazareth University has been committed to EL as a way of living its mission “to serve neighbor to neighbor without distinction, to be of and for the times, and to work for progress.” As it celebrates its 100th anniversary, Nazareth is doubling down on these traditions and strengthening what it calls “change-maker education,” set forth by the Sisters of Saint Joseph.  

“We are a community of people who choose to work for progress,” said Paul. “Our education is helping students develop the capacity, the tools, the mindset, knowledge, and skills that will help them go out and make a positive difference in the world.” 

“Nazareth is one of those places that is very true to its mission,” said Emily Carpenter, Nazareth’s associate vice president of experiential impact. Carpenter is well versed in the benefits of EL and other high-impact practices, having studied and published on the subject. She says there’s nothing more gratifying than seeing the evidence play out in real time on campus. 

“Experiential learning at Nazareth is this beneficial spiral that helps our students feel like they belong,” she said. ”It keeps them here. It helps them figure out what they want to do with their lives. ‘Am I going in the right direction, or do I need to change course?’ And it gives them the experience to become more confident and more willing to take on more opportunities for growth.” 

“Experiential learning at Nazareth is this beneficial spiral that helps our students feel like they belong.”

The school offers eight learner-centered pathways, including mentored research and community-engaged learning, designed to speak to students’ individual interests. A biology major may want to do research with a faculty member or mentor. A musician may choose to engage with a local performing arts organization. The backbone for this activity is The Center for Life’s Work, led by Carpenter, which offers a coaching model for all students that starts in their first year and goes beyond traditional career development to include navigating an array of experiential learning opportunities at Nazareth. 

In 2010, Nazareth made EL part of the core curriculum, and many of its 60 majors have specific EL requirements. The intent is to strengthen the EL experience with credit-bearing courses and opportunities that are both curricular and co-curricular. Often, these active learning experiences are baked into courses. “You don’t have to sign up for it. You don’t have to pay for it,” said Carpenter. She pointed to one example of an English literature class in which students read the same books as incarcerated individuals in the community and discussed the material with them on Zoom.

“It was amazing to see how much they had in common.” 

Providing the SPARK

In an attempt to address what the literature showed to be a participation gap in experiential learning, the school implemented an award-winning grant initiative in 2018 called Students Pursuing Academic and Real-world Knowledge (SPARK). Available to all first- and second-year students (as well as transfers) with a GPA of 2.5 or higher, the SPARK grant offers a $1,500 scholarship and tuition waivers to help cover costs for international experiences, unpaid summer internships, or mentored research—three among the eight EL pathways that often require more money and time. 

SPARK was designed with both equity and early participation in mind. Carpenter says not all students embrace EL immediately, particularly first generation or low-income students who are less familiar with the concept, or students who are reluctant to step out of their comfort zones. SPARK grants cover a large portion of the program fees and flights associated with short-term programs, which the coaches in the Center for Life’s Work help identify. Early engagement in EL programs paves the way for additional involvement, leading to a cumulative effect of EL’s benefits and a job-ready repertoire of real experience come graduation.

 “SPARK can literally be the nudge that students need to engage early,” Carpenter said. “Sometimes the student who does a short-term study led by a faculty member in the summer says, ‘I could totally go abroad for a semester, or I could absolutely take that internship in another city.’”

President Paul sees SPARK as central to Nazareth’s ethos. “At many institutions you have to wait until you graduate to make an impact in the world. Here you are working on real world problems right from the beginning. SPARK is the mechanism that allows for that.” 

For many students at Nazareth, SPARK is the difference between getting in the game or sitting on the sidelines. And for these students, the win can be even greater. In her journal article, “Sparking Early Experiential Learning: Enhancing College Student Participation Through Support, Structure and Choice,” Carpenter reports on SPARK participation and outcomes overall and related to students from underserved backgrounds. The results show the value of even a small amount of incentive funding. 

As of spring 2025, over 1,350 students participated in SPARK’s three pathways. Participation in total credit-bearing summer internships increased 125% in 2018, the year SPARK was introduced. Study abroad participation also jumped, with short-term programs increasing 157% in the first year. Underrepresented minority students comprised 15% of Nazareth’s total population at that time but made up 20% of SPARK participants. 

The research also found that GPAs, retention rates, and graduation rates of SPARK participants were consistently higher than those of the non-SPARK participants, with the impact being particularly noticeable for underrepresented minority students. These students experienced a 42% bump in four-year graduation rates, and average GPAs increased from 2.68 to 3.32.

“This is consistent with the literature that says that when students from underrepresented backgrounds participate in high-impact practices, they benefit even more than their majority peers. Whatever all students are getting, they get an even bigger boost,” Carpenter said. 

The SPARK program continues to maintain a 99% first-to-second year retention rate among participants. GPAs of SPARK participants average 3.5, compared to 3.1 for non-SPARK participants.

The Wellbeing Factor 

According Gallup, engaging in experiential learning and other high-impact practices, like having a mentor in college, positively influences a student’s wellbeing long after graduation. Carpenter hopes to validate this theory with her own data on Nazareth alumni, though doing so may take several years. Meanwhile, it is clear that Nazareth’s adoption of early EL experiences is part of the school’s wellbeing agenda—what President Paul calls “the student thriving strategy.” 

“Experiential learning is a central part of learning to thrive,” said Paul. “You have to be able to open yourself up to new and different opportunities. You have to be able to take calculated risks. And you have to be able to see things from multiple perspectives.” 

In addition to the EL requirement, Nazareth has a wellness requirement as part of its core curriculum. The requisite can be completed by taking a yoga class or being a member of a varsity sport—or students can take a course within their major that includes a wellness component. Unlike many schools that continue to delineate wellbeing from other departments, Nazareth has a Wellness Collective, led by Kim Harvey, the associate provost for student experience and dean of students, who reports directly to the provost. Harvey brought together a diverse group of administrators, academic deans, and student affairs professionals to consider how every department within the school is thinking about the wellbeing of students, faculty, and staff.  

“Using the ten dimensions of wellness that focus on areas such as financial, creative, digital, etc, we’re tapping into all of these individual aspects to help our students develop skills that they will use well beyond Nazareth in their future work,” said Harvey.

For Willow Clark, personal growth was a big part of what she gained from her EL experiences at Nazareth. As she heads into her final opportunity abroad—studying the Holocaust in Germany and Poland—she reflects on how what she’s experienced has impacted her wellbeing. 

“When I think about my experience in Costa Rica, I would say it was the best and hardest three months of my life. It tested my mental health and my ability to relate to people. There was culture shock and stress. But ultimately, putting myself in that position made me stronger. And ever since then, I’ve really leaned into the idea of seeking that discomfort in my life because it is those experiences where I feel the most growth.”  

Navigate U

Around 2021, administrators at the University of Utah discovered an unsettling pattern while reviewing student data: In an effort to satisfy requirements and pass some mandatory courses, some students had needed to retake a class five, ten times, or more. In one example, administrators found that a student had spent over $50,000 taking a single math course. These repeated attempts went unflagged because academic advising and course tracking systems were siloed instead of fully integrated across departments. In effect, when it came to the university body, one hand didn’t know what the other was doing—and neither one was reaching out to the student struggling with the path toward graduation.

The revelation brought into focus the number of students struggling with key courses without sufficient support or intervention. But more broadly, it illuminated a systemic disconnect: a lack of coordination between advising, academic support, and course scheduling, which was likely contributing to Utah’s unsatisfactory retention and graduation rates. The path towards a solution was paved with integrated technology and data transparency.

“University policy hadn’t been updated in over 30 years and was kind of adrift, just stacking additional credits on top of requirements. No one had made the case about how that impacts degree completion, how that impacts debt, and tying those things together in a really simple, clear way,” says Chase Hagood, vice provost for student success, who was hired in 2021 to be part of the new initiative’s leadership. “But not everyone was behind the open sharing of data. What does it take for a whole university to come together to say, ‘We believe in the exceptional educational experience. What is it going to take to get us there?’ We joined the Innovation Alliance, and the Coalition for Transformational Education, and getting in those peer groups helped elevate the work we do.” 

University leaders recognized the need for a more integrated, proactive approach, beginning with more democratized data. Within two years—and the addition of a new president and provost—this recognition had become forged into a commitment, leveraging EAB’s Navigate360 as the CRM platform to connect the campus. This became the tech muscle behind Navigate U, a 2024 university-wide initiative aimed at improving metrics of student success, including retention and graduation rates. Utah is banking on software and data analysis to follow individual student performance, flag potential issues, and introduce  interventions—and on the horizon, even track behavior trends.  

Eight Pillars and Key Features

University leadership recognized that existing approaches had “topped out” their effectiveness at steering 32,700 students toward their graduation goals. A new comprehensive strategy was needed, one that put the data capabilities to work under pillars of priorities, each with key features of innovation. The pillars of Navigate U were designed to bring together student support services, streamline policies, and integrate data systems to provide real-time insights into student progress through a structured, coordinated, more supportive approach.

“This whole Navigate U method is about looking at the institution and figuring out how we can prepare as clear a pathway as possible to help the student through here in four to six years,” says Brandon Johnson, senior associate dean of student success and transformative experiences. “By asking those questions, we stop blaming the students. We stop blaming high school for lack of preparedness. If we admit a student into the university, we should do everything possible to make sure that they are as successful as they want to be.”

“If we admit a student into the university, we should do everything possible to make sure that they are as successful as they want to be.”

One key feature of Navigate U is its proactive advising system. Previously, students often had difficulty knowing where to go for guidance, as advising structures varied across colleges. Some students had clear academic roadmaps, while others struggled with course selection and degree planning. Navigate U introduced a centralized approach, ensuring that all students are assigned an advisor with clear, standardized expectations for advising practices. Advisors now have access to real-time student data, allowing them to identify students at risk of falling behind and intervene earlier. 

Another feature is the data integration and early alert system. In the past, crucial information about students—such as course performance, attendance patterns, and engagement with support services—was scattered across different departments. Navigate U centralizes this data through the EAB Navigate platform, enabling faculty and advisors to monitor student progress more effectively. This system can flag students who may need extra support, whether due to failing grades, repeated course withdrawals, or financial concerns. It connects students to resources like tutoring, coaching, and peer mentoring programs. It also promotes student engagement, recognizing that a strong sense of belonging is critical for success. First-year transition programs, on-campus housing opportunities, and community-building efforts have been expanded to support this goal.

Course availability has also been a major focus of Navigate U. Many students faced delays in graduation because required courses were either full or not offered frequently enough. The initiative introduced a strategic course scheduling system, using data to predict demand and ensure essential classes are available when students need them. Additionally, the university implemented new guidelines for course enrollment thresholds to spur the scheduling of courses based on historical data and anticipated demand, and identify courses with high demand to consider opening additional sections.

“One of the things with no institutional policy was monitoring thresholds,” says Hagood. “You might be running a class with six students over here, but in another college—or even within the same college—maybe a department head says, ‘No, you have to have at least 15.’ We had no across-the-board guidelines to help deans make the best use of resources and kind of press them to think about it. It wasn’t good for faculty, and it wasn’t good for students.”

The pillars also target academic wellness, engagement, transitions, and financial structures.

Goals and Metrics 

Graduation rates are a particular area targeted for improvement. At present, the six-year rate is around 66% (a previous peak of 70% declined during the COVID-19 pandemic). By addressing obstacles such as course bottlenecks and repetition, outdated policies, and inconsistent advising, the initiative aims to see 80% of students completing their degrees in six years by 2030. 

In tandem with this is the goal to increase the rate of retention. Currently, about 85% of first-year students return for their second year. With enhanced advising, course availability, and academic support, the university aims to raise this to 90% or higher, aligning with top public research institutions. 

The goals extend beyond graduation. With an improved focus on career readiness and job placement, Utah seeks to ensure that 90% or more of graduates secure employment or enroll in graduate school within six months of completing their degree. This effort includes strengthening connections between academic programs and career services, expanding internship opportunities, and incorporating career development into students’ academic experiences.

In tracking these key metrics and continuously refining its strategies, Navigate U intends to create a more efficient, supportive, and results-driven approach to student success. And with a new kind of tracking under development, the school hopes to gain a clearer picture of each student’s academic journey in order to provide targeted assistance before small setbacks become major obstacles.

The enhanced tracking aims to put more points of data into profiles to build a more comprehensive picture of the student life cycle: where they’re going, and where they’re not. 

“The next phase is working out how we incorporate swipe data from student affairs and event attendance, and then we can start to see this really interesting profile of the student. Are they using the library? Did they go to a coaching appointment? Did they meet with their advisor? Do they attend sporting events?” says Johnson. “If we start to see some gaps, we can launch some outreach to a student because we’re seeing them not only notengaged in some of these academic support resources, but they’re not engaging in campus life and wellness and belonging-fostering activities and events.” 

If a student had been missing class, for example, administrators could use their swipe history in the residence halls, dining halls, and gyms to get a picture of where they’re spending their time. And if they see the student is spending a lot of time swiping into the Student Union, they can send a coach, advisor, or mentor to informally reach out to them there. 

“The more we know about our students and how best to support them, the better it is for the student,” says Johnson. “I would love a day when we can create a spider web profile like you see on some of those career and personality assessments with different indicators and quadrants. You can see if it’s low or heavy in one area, then we can act on the areas that need to be filled in.”  

Johnson believes one of the greatest behind-the-scenes benefits of the Navigate U work might be the introspective thinking it encourages in faculty and administrators. It’s hard to look at a longstanding practice with fresh eyes if it isn’t considered broken. But that, he says, is where the work happens. 

“With some honest conversation, sometimes we come to see that something probably isn’t in the best interest of students after all. Instead of asking, ‘Why are we doing this?’—because there’s usually some answer for why—we try asking, ‘Do we really need to keep doing this? Is it something that’s benefitting us or the students?’” says Johnson. “Those questions are happening more often. And I think we’re fixing a lot of things.”

Life Lessons with John Bravman

Bucknell University President John Bravman personifies the saying “the harder you work, the luckier you are” and imparts that message to his students. With humility and humor, the career academic brings us through the key milestones in his life, from working to overcome a speech impediment as a child to being the “smart kid” in New York City public schools to his spectacular, yet uneven, success at Stanford, where he learned to be a great teacher well before he became a college president.    

Here is an excerpt from our interview:  

LW: To start, can you give a bit of background about yourself, your family, how you grew up, your education? From what I understand already, you have a very interesting story.

Bravman: Well, I doubt I do. But I grew up in New York City 67 years ago. I’m a first generation college student—second generation American but first in my family to go away to college. So my father was in World War II, and I grew up with parents from the postwar era, and I came of age in the early sixties. My earliest distinct memory is probably Kennedy being assassinated. So that’s the place in time. And everything that happened in the sixties influenced me somehow, some way. I had a love of science. My father was an accountant, but he liked science, too, and I probably picked it up from him. But things like going to the World’s Fair in ’64 and ’65 and going to the American Museum of Natural History in New York City, these were all big deals for me. And sure enough, I became a scientist.

LW: Where in the city were you educated?

Bravman: P.S. 34 Queens. Then I moved to Long Island for junior high and high school and went to public schools there, too. But it was quite a culture shock, moving from the city to the suburbs. It was just different. I’m sure there’s a lot of sociology and psychology and history and economics to explain why. We were not a wealthy family by any means, but we were never hungry. And for whatever reason, I grew up with the notion that smarter is better—that it’s good to be smart and work hard and all that kind of stuff. And probably, because I moved during those preteen-teenage years, when I went out to Long Island, it was all of a sudden, “Who’s better looking? Who has nicer clothes? Who’s more popular?” This was not a wealthy place, but just all of a sudden, it changed. I remember thinking about that but realizing, of course, that smart still mattered, and I had to do well in school and all that. But that was the first big cultural shock I experienced in my life.

LW: When you say being smart matters, and you saw that as a pathway to success, would you say your peers in the NYC public schools seemed to share that perspective more so than those in Long Island, who seemed more socially-oriented?

Bravman: Probably not. But my honest answer is that, from kindergarten through fifth grade, it felt like the extent to which you were looked up to by your peers came down to who is the smartest kid in class. And that felt very different on Long Island.

But I mean, I spent seven years on Long Island at three different schools, all public. And then I had the incredible good fortune of going to Stanford, where I ended up spending 35 continuous years. Believe it or not, I’ve often said that one of the best things that ever happened to me was a rejection. And I’ve reflected on that rejection throughout my life. I desperately wanted to go to MIT from high school because I’m a sciencey, nerdy geek. And that’s what you did if you grew up on the east coast. That’s where I could be the best of the best. Everyone knows MIT. And if you’re on the west coast, you went to Caltech.

But the story there is that a friend of mine in high school, who was also a nerdy kid, took a family vacation to California the summer after our junior year in high school. He came back with tales of these redwood trees, which I’d only seen in National Geographic, and the Pacific Ocean in Monterey Bay. I’d never been west of Pennsylvania. He told me about a school I’d never heard of called Stanford University, and he said, “We have to go there. It’s amazing.”

And of course, there was no internet back then. So I went down to the high school library, where we had a room forcollege books, and it turns out the Stanford Viewbook was missing. So I didn’t even see pictures of Stanford. All they had was their course catalog, which back then was just text. I illegally took that book home for the night because you’re supposed to leave them there. And I went through it, and I was so entranced by this book with no pictures that I designed my whole curriculum only to find out later that what I thought I was going to take were all junior-level classes, not freshman classes. Long story short, I did not get into MIT, but I got into Stanford, and my friend did not get into Stanford, where he really wanted to go. He went to MIT, was miserable, and dropped out.

I’m just saying, I’ll never, ever forget that rejection and the lesson of, “Okay, life knocks you down? You just keep going.”

LW: With that course catalogue, did you recognize the rigor of the courses right away? What attracted you to the curriculum?

Bravman: Well, I love books. Most of the books I own have nothing to do with science and engineering. I’ll have a real problem when I retire because I’ve now collected 5,000 books, and I have no place to put them. So honestly, I think I just liked this course catalog. It was words, and I had never read a course catalog. I remember sitting in my bedroom, reading page after page of these course descriptions. I thought, “This is amazing, and I want to learn all this stuff.” And then I went off to college for 20 years. 

LW: You must have been quite wowed, then, because your friend was not kidding—it is beautiful.

Bravman: Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s like 362 days a year of perfect weather. I’d never been on a plane before. And back then, Stanford had arranged charter planes from several cities on the east coast, so I was on a plane with 250 kids going to Stanford. I showed up on campus, and it was just the most amazing thing. I had a lot of financial aid. It included loans, scholarships, and a work requirement. So I was assigned to work in a kitchen. I probably picked that off a list. I liked to cook, even as a boy. But I remember we got to campus late, and within minutes of entering my dorm, someone came and told me that I was late for work because as a brand new freshman, I was supposed to work the first day on campus in the kitchen, helping make dinner. So I showed up, and Kay Malik, who was the head of the food service in Wilbur Hall at Stanford, she said, quite curtly, “You’re late for work. Don’t do it again.” So I didn’t exactly have a perfect start.

I loved Stanford. But the fact of the matter is I almost flunked out my sophomore year because I was not prepared for the rigor of the academic work. I quite honestly never really studied in high school because I didn’t have to. I had one B in ninth grade art. So I did not graduate with a perfect 4.0. So I graduated second in my class. My friend, who went to MIT, was one of six people with a 4.0. So I was technically ranked number seven, but I’ve always liked to say number two.

LW: What was it like to have been close to the smartest in your class in high school and then become average, or maybe even struggling to be average, in college?

Bravman: Well, I’d never met kids who went to private schools before. So I was dealing with that and people who went to Beverly Hills High, which is a public school but a very, very good one, resourced differently than my schools were. I don’t remember too much about that, but I remember being scared and disappointed in myself. I thought, “What am I going to do and what am I going to tell my parents?” And I’m sure kids today feel the same way. And they probably also experience certain emotions I didn’t. So I’ve tried to be a better and more sensitive advisor academically, but also as a boss, understanding that people have a variety of experiences. But I think that near failure was a really important learning lesson for me. And part of that is, “If you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room.” 

That’s also where I learned about advising. My advisor was an almost brand new professor at Stanford from Great Britain. He went to Cambridge. And so I learned a lot along the way, too, about England as a result of that relationship. But he was helpful and supportive, and I’ve never forgotten that. So obviously I didn’t flunk out, and I did well enough, and I ended up getting into the doctoral program there in engineering. 

When I started the doctoral program, my undergraduate advisor remained my advisor, but I also got a second advisor in electrical engineering, a different department. My department, material science, announced a new faculty search. And I remember saying to my advisor in electrical engineering, “Hey, look, did you see my department’s going to be hiring someone else? I wonder who they’re going to get.” And he looked at me and said, “I want you to apply for it.” I said, “That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to be a Stanford professor. Give me a break. I almost flunked out.” He said, “No, I want you to apply for it.” And he was an older professor. He’s still with us. He’s 85 and a giant in his field. He was a giant in his field then, and he said, “I want you to stay.”

So that advice and encouragement from two different advisors changed the course of my life. That whole advising experience has meant so much to me ever since because I know what it did for me. I ended up staying there for a total of 35 years before coming here to Bucknell in 2010. I lived off campus one year in graduate school and three years as a young professor. So 31 of 35 years, I lived on campus. And for 14 of those years, I think it is, I lived in an undergraduate dorm as what we call a “resident fellow.” So most of my life, I’ve lived on a college campus. So I went to college 50 years ago next September.

When I say it made my life, I mean, I’m not kidding. And obviously it took a lot of hard work—first to not get kicked out, secondly to get a position in the graduate program, and then to pass my Ph.D. qualifying exam, which I failed the first time and you only can take twice by policy. So I worked my butt off and passed the second time. And then I had to get on faculty, and then I had to earn tenure. And that is not trivial at university, let me tell you. Stanford’s policy is that you have to be one of the two best people in the world at your age in your field. And that’s not possible, really, but that’s the written standard. And of course, Stanford School of Engineering is incredibly famous in my area because of Silicon Valley. So I had the combination of thrills and chills every single day, and getting tenure was probably the achievement of my life until I became president here.

And I just reflect on that—to have gotten there as a first generation college kid, who almost flunked out and then didn’t pass his Ph.D. qualifying exam the first time. And I’m no genius, not even remotely close, but I know the value of working really hard and keeping a dream ahead of you and sacrificing. In my experience, working really hard is no guarantee, but it can make a difference. I’ve tried to be very sensitive to students who are struggling. Maybe they wouldn’t believe a college president almost flunked out of school. But it’s the God’s honest truth, and I want them to know that. And being an advisor doesn’t mean you have to be a pushover. You can be direct and strong without being strident, and you can be understanding of someone’s needs and foibles and weaknesses. And I can’t believe in September, I will have literally been in college for 50 years.

“[As an advisor] you can be direct and strong without being strident, and you can be understanding of someone’s needs and foibles and weaknesses.”

LW: That’s a great milestone. So when you almost failed, who was it that believed in you enough to keep you going?

Bravman: That’s a great question. It’s hard to answer. Obviously, my advisor’s support and some other faculty were important. But I did realize that I’d have to get my stuff together, or my life’s going to be very different.

LW: So you had a strong sense of agency.

Bravman: I was probably more scared shitless than anything else. I really was, and I was afraid of disappointing my parents, for sure. So I was in the process of applying to transfer to a couple schools back east—good but lesser schools—and not even thinking about, “Are they really going to take someone who’s almost flunked out?” Thankfully, I didn’t have to find out, but I learned that you can talk yourself quickly into procrastinating, and it usually doesn’t have a good end. So I learned that lesson painfully and learned that I had to discipline myself to partition the various aspects of life—fun and work and this and that—and to sleep as little as possible to maximize everything else. That’s probably the best answer I can give you, but I was really scared.

LW: Let’s talk about when you were recommended for, and ultimately earned, that coveted teaching position. You hadsomeone who really believed in you. What did that feel like?

Bravman: You know, all the prejudices about research institutions are often true. But this advisor, he was both at the absolute top of his field and the best teacher I ever had. That was a role model for me. And honestly, a lot of getting that job was just dumb luck—right person, right time. And I, in my naivete, just thought, “Gee, I wonder who they’re going to get.” It never entered my mind that I’d be on the Stanford faculty. And he just said, “John, I want you to apply.” And I don’t remember much else, but saying some quip about, “That’s ridiculous. I’m not like you. I can’t be you.” And now I’m one of two people in Stanford’s history to have their highest award for teaching and their highest award for service.

LW: What about the teaching? What do you think, given all you’ve told me, contributed to you being a great teacher?

Bravman: Well, I’ll tell you, I have a story there, too. It’s the same answer: total, utter fear of failure. My brother is older than me. He’s very outgoing. My sister’s younger and very outgoing, and I was the introvert. And my father was a very, very smart man. It’s such a shame he couldn’t go to college. I grew up with a speech impediment, and my father, when I was in second grade, bought a reel-to-reel tape recorder—which I still have and still works—and a microphone. And he made me read into the tape, and he made me listen to myself, which is painful to this day. But he wanted me to learn to overcome my speech impediment. And I never forgot that because I grew up just incredibly fearful of speaking in front of any crowd, all through college. And in part, that’s why I failed my Ph.D. qualifying exam.Because it’s oral the first time. It’s two-and-a-half hours in front of 10 professors. So I was scared out of my mind. Andsome of my speech issues, when you’re scared, they come to the fore. 

Fast forward to teaching, having had lots of not-so-great teachers at Stanford, as well as some great ones, I knew which I wanted to be. So when I started teaching, I probably prepared 10 to 12 hours per one hour lecture. We had, early on, a video camera in our department and a VHS machine. This was pretty advanced at the time. So I remember at midnight when the building was empty, videotaping myself, giving my low-level introductory material science lectures to an empty room on videotape and then watching it until two o’clock in the morning, learning what I did wrong. I was so scared of failure, and I really wanted to be a good teacher. The fact is, I have eight teaching awards,two of them national. So I like telling people who have these issues, honestly, if you knew my fear of talking in public and now I can stand in front of arbitrarily large and loud crowds, anyone can. 

The fact is I’m still a deep introvert. I don’t actually believe in fundamental change that way. You overcome and you adapt. I’m proud of what I did in teaching, and I think I’m a reasonably good public speaker now. I’m not very good at reading a script. But I want students who are struggling, especially with public speaking, but anything really, to know that if I can do this, believe me, you can.

LW: Well, you can’t win all those teaching awards without getting a positive response from the students themselves. They really are the ultimate judges on this. Do you have a sense of what about your teaching has resonated so muchwith students?

Bravman: I became a techno geek in terms of computers, as they arose. So the Macintosh 1984 came out the same year I joined the faculty, and everyone was using IBM PC. Those were released in 1980, but I started with a Mac. I was, for the most part, a bit ahead of my time with new software, new technology, and I took that into the classroom. So I think that was noticed.

I think it helps to be friendly and approachable and tell stories, like, “Hey, here’s my story. If I can do this, you can do this.” And hopefully I gave clear lectures. My department had very few majors. The big undergraduate courses were all kind of service courses. And so people didn’t really want to be in my classroom, but they had to be. And so that’s something to think about. And then at the graduate level, I ended up teaching things that, for the most part, very few people fundamentally like. They just have to do it as a doctoral student. Like crystallography, it’s very dry and not very exciting. So I worked hard at bringing in real life examples that people could relate to that still allowed me to explicate on the subjects. And so it’s those kinds of sensitivities, but also being in my office at midnight. Students would come see me at midnight because that’s more their hours than mine.

Of course, early on, you’re younger, so you’re closer to them. But what’s the lure of academics? Every year, the freshmen are the same age. Every year, I’m exactly one year older. It’s so unfair.

LW: Did you think early on in your career that you’d ever be a college president? Was that a holy grail that you always hoped to achieve?

Bravman: No. My dream job, having grown up in New York City, was to be the president of the American Museum of Natural History on Central Park West. The woman who was the president there was president for like 25 years. And I remember thinking, “Would you please just retire?” But seriously, being a college president is a tough job. And it always has been. But I’m who I am, and I’m not who I’m not, and I can only do what I do. So I just keep building as best I can.

Formative Education at Boston College 

At a Boston College retreat, sophomores are asked three questions: What are you good at? What brings you joy? Who does the world need you to be? The exercise is part of a program called “Half-time” meant to help students begin a lifelong process of vocational discernment. For Jesuit universities such as BC, this type of formative education, defined as “educating whole persons for lives of meaning and purpose,” is part of the fabric. It is now the focus of a new academic department at BC called the Department of Formative Education (DFE). 

The department extends BC’s leadership in formative education, expanding the focus from the practice of undergraduate education to research on “life-wide and lifelong” formative education. Housed within the Lynch School of Education and Human Development, DFE features an undergraduate major (Transformative Educational Studies), a master’s program (Learning, Design, and Technology), and the first ever Ph.D. program in Formative Education.

“Our programs tackle big formative issues,” said Chris Higgins, the Department’s founding chair. “How can we nurture vision and values? What are the dispositions that sustain democracy? How do we co-evolve with technological tools? How can we cultivate a sustainable relationship to the earth? What does it mean to flourish as a human being?” 

Such questions, Higgins explained, demand an interdisciplinarity approach, spanning anthropology, design thinking, history, the learning sciences, philosophy, and the psychological humanities.

Stanton Wortham is the inaugural Charles F. Donovan, S.J., Dean of the Lynch School. An anthropologist by training, Wortham spent several years at the University of Pennsylvania, where he worked with scholars of varying disciplines within the liberal arts on how their expertise applied to education. When he arrived at BC, he was able to continue this work of integrating the liberal arts into scholarly inquiry on education, with the blessing of BC President Father Leahy. In creating the new department within the Lynch school at BC, Wortham was inspired by the Jesuit reverence for the liberal arts and its emphasis on formative education.  

“Most of our education ignores the multi-dimensional nature of how people learn,” he said. “Formative education is this notion that people have several different types of development—social, emotional, ethical, spiritual—and all of those things are going on in a young person’s life at the same time.”  

“Most of our education ignores the multi-dimensional nature of how people learn.”

Wortham believes the optimum form of human development is when all these dimensions are aligned—a state he refers to as “wholeness.” The other two pillars of formative education are purpose, which helps young people explore what will bring them both meaning and a living; and community, the recognition that this discernment about life’s purpose happens together with others. Character and ethics are naturally woven in.  

“Too often at an institution, we tell young people that if they just learn a lot of stuff and get a good job, then everything is going to be fine. And it’s just not true if you’re not connected to something that has bigger meaning,” said Wortham. “We can’t tell students what to believe, but it is our job to help them ask questions about what is ultimately important to them.”

Wortham envisioned a department known both for its research and its teaching. He wanted to convene a group of liberal arts faculty that would bring diverse disciplinary perspectives to the study of formative experience, practice, and aims. This research on holistic development then enriches courses aiming to inspire students to think about education in this formative way.  

To lead the department, Wortham recruited Higgins, a philosopher, who had been leading the Transformative Education Studies program (TES). Now part of the Department of Formative Education, TES is growing with 95 majors to date. “‘Transformative education’ names both what we study and how we study,” Higgins explained.

“Our courses explore questions about personal and social transformation. Questions such as, what does it mean to be an educated person? And what kind of schools do we need in a democratic society? At the same time, we want these classes themselves to be transformative experiences, spaces where our students can reflect on their own efforts to form themselves into somebody who can lead a flourishing life.” 

Higgins shares Wortham’s perspective that education has grown too narrow and instrumental. His recent book, Undeclared, calls out the contemporary university, with its “credentialing mindset,” for paying only lip service to the idea of general education. Far from being encouraged to explore, students get the message that they had better “pick a lane and step on the gas!” Instead, he offers a vision for an educational renaissance in which “soulcraft,” described as “the quest to understand, cultivate, and enact ourselves in lives worth living,” is the primary focus.  

Higgins’ creative energy is reflected in the department itself, down to its name which he said is intentionally ambiguous. “Formative education is open for interpretation,” he said. “I don’t want to determine the kinds of questions that my colleagues want to explore.” 

Those questions are wide-ranging and include topics one might not immediately think of. Professor Marina Bers studies how children can develop ethically and interpersonally through engagement with coding and robotics. Caity Bolton, a cultural anthropologist, is studying what holistic human and social development looks like through Islamic education in East Africa and the Arab World. DFE affiliate faculty member Belle Liang has developed a “purpose app” for college students.  

Just in its second year, the DFE doctoral program is already producing notable research. For example, Ph.D. student Harrison Mullen has received a grant from the N.C.A.A. to study the experience of athletes forced to retire from the sport that has been so central to them. Framing the issue in formative terms, Mullen considers how practices such as sports help us make sense of what it means to lead a worthwhile life. In interviews with retired athletes, he explores the deep sense of loss that accompanies this life transition.

At the Department of Formative Education, as at BC overall, personal reflection is fundamental. “It’s the Jesuit thing,” said Higgins. “We are devoted to careful study of the ‘what’ and the ‘how’—but we also never forget the ‘why’ and the ‘who.’ Why does this matter? And how does this help you understand who you are and what you stand for? 

Higgins offered examples of TES courses and their activities. “In ‘The Educational Conversation,’ we invite students to reflect on their key formative influences through an educational autobiography. In ‘Spiritual Exercises,’ we introduce students to a range of spiritual practices, starting with the exercises devised by the founder of the Jesuits, Ignatius of Loyola.”

For Wortham and Higgins, the time is ripe to reconsider the hyperfocus on academic achievement. They believe educators in a variety of settings are looking for a richer, formative language to describe their practices and aims. To this end, the Lynch School is launching the Transformative Education Lab, which will share research and best practices around whole-person education. Wortham and Higgins hope that the lab will extend Boston College’s leadership in formative education to new audiences, helping to recenter questions of meaning and value in educational debates. 

“Academic achievement is critical. Subject matter knowledge is critical,” said Wortham. “But these students we are teaching and testing are people. We need to consider their mental health, how they will build relationships with others—all the things that make them thrive as human beings.”

Walter Mondale and me

I started at the University of Wisconsin in the fall of 2001, just a week before 9/11. For me, and so many other first-year college students, this was a defining feature of the next four years. I was busy with work, internships, and other activities at a large public university and found that while I had many great professors, I don’t recall developing significant relationships with any of them, nor did I in graduate school, with the exception of one class. 

While attending the University of Minnesota’s Humphrey Institute of Public Affairs in 2006, I was selected for a seminar course led by former Vice President Walter Mondale and supervised by Professor Larry Jacobs. The class was featured in the documentary Fritz: The Walter Mondale Story. As part of the class, students identified different sections of Mondale’s biography and did original research based on his newly released papers at the Minnesota Historical Society. I chose to research his role as campaign manager for his friend and mentor Hubert Humphrey, who had waged an unsuccessful presidential bid in the tumultuous year of 1968. It was a fascinating experience to learn about such an important period in American history with so many epic characters like Bobby Kennedy, Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon, and Eugene McCarthy; and to get a sense of what life was like in a year of protests, assassinations, and war. I’ve always wanted to turn my paper into a book (someday).

Mr. Mondale was an engaging professor, generous with his time and willingness to share his personal experiences. In one of my memorable email exchanges with him, I asked him what lessons he took with him from 1968 that he used in his own campaigns. Besides the need to run a disciplined campaign (Humphrey’s campaigns were an apparent study in disarray), Mr. Mondale stressed the need to be yourself, work hard, and be kind. He remembered Hubert Humphrey as one of the most gifted orators of the 20th century, a superlative he said he would emulate but never achieve. In his email, he wrote:

“Humphrey was a magnificent speaker and performer. I couldn’t match that so I tried to compensate by working carefully on my speeches, doing some of my own research and reading, and connecting with people through friendship and kindness. We were very close friends but very different personalities. I did not try to be a Humphrey clone; I tried to be myself as unimpressive as that was and is.” 

“From him, I learned that you don’t need to be gifted to do great things.”

Besides his obvious humility, I was struck by his comment about “connecting with people through friendship and kindness” and the need to be diligent and work hard. From him, I learned that you don’t need to be gifted to do great things. As a fellow small-town Midwesterner interested in a career in public service, I was really inspired by him and could relate to his approach. I found him to be the ideal of what I thought of a public servant to be—honest, grounded, generous, smart, and always focused on improving people’s lives. He also had a great sense of humor that most people didn’t know. The class was a defining experience of my time in higher education. 

Listening from the Heart

Sometimes, the stories are hard to hear.  Laila Alsheikh, a bereaved Palestinian mother, told of how she was barred, by Israeli soldiers, from taking her 6-month-old baby to the hospital in the occupied West Bank. Gravely ill from tear gas, the child died the same day. For 16 years, she would not speak of it.

“I was filled with anger and rage and vowed I would never look or speak to an Israeli person again in my life,” she said. “And then I met Robi.”


Robi Damelin is an Israeli citizen, the mother of two sons, one of them lost to a Palestinian sniper. The pain she shares with Laila Alsheikh drew the women together as mothers, and now friends, despite being from warring nations. Their commitment to channel their grief into reconciliation and peace has made them colleagues in a cause called The Parents Circle Families Forum (PCFF).


The PCFF is a joint Israeli-Palestinian organization of over 800 families, all of whom have lost an immediate family member to the ongoing conflict in Palestine and Israel, and all of whom have chosen a path of reconciliation rather than revenge. Alsheikh and Damelin’s stories, and those of many others, are in videos included in a new educational program the organization offers called Listening from the Heart. Developed through a collaboration with Georgetown University, Listening from the Heart offers communities a chance to engage in meaningful dialogue about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict from a human perspective. Its primary constituents are colleges and universities, many of whom are seeking ways to process the unrest that overwhelmed campuses after October 7th and the war in Gaza.


“You can’t really understand what this is all about, but you can understand what another human being may be feeling,” said Damelin, who is Spokesperson and International Relations Manager for the PCFF.  “When you recognize that, it creates trust.”


The impact of this work relies on the delivery of that message to people and organizations inside and outside of the Middle East. It asks us to consider “if those who paid the highest price for this conflict can understand and empathize, then shouldn’t we all?” 

The PCFF uses the “parallel narrative” method to communicate this message in conversations around the world. Typically, this involves two speakers — one Israeli, one Palestinian – who talk plainly about the loss they have suffered from the conflict, yet, at the same time, they have come to see the person on the other side as a human being and they describe that experience. The power of this shared humanity las led them to work and pray for peace.


With offices in both Israel and Palestine, the non-profit organization is partly funded by sources outside of the Middle East, including the United States. Since 2013, Shiri Ourian has been the Executive Director of the American Friends of the Parents Circle. She had been working to raise awareness and funds in the U.S. to support the work that was being done on the ground when the Israeli/Hamas war broke out on October 7, 2023.


“After that day, we got calls from so many communities, corporations, colleges and universities, even the World Bank, all saying the same thing – ‘neighbors are not talking to each other, there is tension between my senior staff, students are shouting at one another.’”


Ourian says the high demand for some kind of guidance in how to respond to the war accelerated the development of the Listening from the Heart program.


“We didn’t have the resources to just send people all over the country,” she said. “It became very apparent, very quickly that we needed to create a standalone program that people could access whenever they wanted to. And that’s what we did. Listening from the Heart is all based on the model of the Parents Circle pedagogy – the power of storytelling to create an emotional transformation.”


Continuing the Story

Well before October 7, 2023, Robi Damelin envisioned scaling the work of the Parents Circle with an academic partner who shared the organization’s mission. When the time was right, she immediately turned to Georgetown University. Her long friendship with then-president John DeGioia had pointed her in that direction since they first met at a Parents Circle forum back in 2008. As the highly-regarded leader of the Jesuit school, DeGioia had long embraced the non-profit’s mission of peace through dialogue. 

By the beginning of the new year, the task of turning compelling narratives into empathy-building and listening skills was in the hands of two of the university’s renowned teaching, learning, and innovation centers– the Center for New Designs in Learning and Scholarship and The Red House, Georgetown’s transformative education unit.


“This work really relates to Georgetown’s values,” said Kimberly Huisman, a curriculum developer at the Center who led the project with her colleague Susannah McGowan from The Red House. “Our ecumenical approach is welcoming to all faiths and our global perspective encourages students to see themselves as part of one world,” said Huisman.


McGowan says she hopes the program will complement a number of efforts the university is pursuing to promote dialogue and civil discourse at one of the most polarizing times in American history. She believes Listening from the Heart will build skills students need to understand conflict resolution in any situation.


“The question we are always asking ourselves is how do you design programs that help students grapple with very real challenges,” she said. “We need to provide spaces for what we call ‘productive tension’ so students will be equipped to face difficult topics once they graduate.”

Huisman and McGowan spent six months with the Parents Circle Families Forum creating videos and developing the curriculum. Listening from the Heart has four modules revolving around three different phases: preparing for, presenting, and processing the personal narratives. The course can be taught consecutively or spread out over time. The first module helps facilitators learn the background of the program. What are the goals of Listening from the Heart? What is the program not about? In preparing for the presentations, groups work on understanding the barriers to listening, i.e., “How do I engage with something I disagree with?” Presenting the work is where the series of personal narratives are featured; and the processing section involves reflection and learning from what has been presented.


“How do we listen to somebody when we’re triggered? How do we let somebody else know that they are heard?

Ourian says the goal of the program is to generate empathy and to reject the binary notion of one side vs the other. But it also involves building skills that will serve students for life.


“We help people build their listening skills in difficult circumstances,” she said. “How do we listen to somebody when we’re triggered? How do we let somebody else know that they are heard? Listening isn’t just about taking in information, it’s about acknowledging the other side – how do you do that when the other person’s truth feels like it’s in contradiction to your truth?”


An important component to the program is providing facilitators and participants the historical context to discuss the nuances of the conflict, the absence of which has exacerbated tensions on campuses. The preparation materials for facilitators warn “When American communities adopt a binary, simplistic view of the conflict, they magnify its complexities and distort the narrative to fit American contexts, which
may not accurately reflect the realities experienced by Palestinians and Israelis. Outsiders must consider whether their actions and engagement help resolve or worsen the conflict.”


While the program aims to turn caustic debate into productive discourse, it also hopes to give people who are afraid to talk about the conflict the words to do so effectively. “Mostly, people are just silent,” said Damelin. “After all the shouting and the statements, people are just shutting down. And that’s where this program steps in.”


The Listening from the Heart curriculum is now available on the American Friends of the Parents Circle Parents website for any community, with reduced fees for non-profits and no charge for public high school teachers. It has been endorsed by the American Federation of Teachers but the initial roll-out of the program in the U.S. is focused heavily on colleges. This fall, Damelin, Ourian and Alsheikh have been on a campus tour throughout the Northeast, promoting the program at a number of schools including Brandeis, Barnard, Columbia and New York University. They will soon head to the Midwest and west coast.


In November, the Parents Circle Families Forum and Georgetown University hosted a special program at Georgetown, the same week the team was asked to speak at the Washington Post’s Global Women’s Summit in D.C. There, before an audience of faculty, students and community leaders, they once again told their stories; sometimes painful, often joyful, always hopeful.


“Sometimes at a meeting, there will be Palestinians who don’t speak Hebrew and some Israeli’s that don’t speak Arabic,” Alsheikh told the audience. “But when they look at each other, they understand what each one is feeling and they start to cry and hug each other, without saying a word.”

A Constellation of Support

When University of Denver (DU) was named Princeton Review’s #1 “school most loved by its students” this year, junior Libby Williamson was not surprised. She’d arrived as a freshman in 2021, when the school had recently added a student-centered learning pilot called the 4D Experience.  One of the hallmarks of 4D is the peer mentor program, and that mentorship was one of the things that had made the campus feel so accessible and supportive during her first year. Today, that program is central to her own identification as a peer mentor and leader, and to her personal and professional development.

“I think 4D and its emphasis on mentorship is so valuable to the student experience,” says Williamson, a communications major. “It’s this holistic approach to a college education that focuses on more than just academics, prioritizing my growth as an individual and as a confident, well-rounded professional by the time I graduate.”

The pilot of the 4D Experience launched in fall 2020 as an educational philosophy of living and learning, both inside and outside the classroom, based on four dimensions of development. But to understand 4D, and its goals that are simultaneously lofty and practical, it helps to understand the social context. The University of Denver, like many other institutions, was facing the pressures of higher education in flux.

A Turning Point

When DU was designing its strategic future vision in 2016, the message was steeped in positivity: to affirm its strengths and engagement and expand upon them. But it was no small coincidence that the motivation to reconceive the school’s vision was coming at a time of larger challenges, and change.

The chancellor at the time, Rebecca Chopp, believed the university was ready for a turning point, an opportunity to evolve with a new vision within the larger storm brewing in higher education over a host of issues from cost and value to free speech.  In 2014, the school’s Strategic Issues Panel published a report titled “Unsettling Times: Higher Education in an Era of Change.” It cited a growing list of perceived shortcomings in American higher education, from the rapidly rising cost of tuition to the alleged failure to provide a meaningful—or practical—education for students. “The report is intended to appropriately define the urgency of the moment,” states the opening letter from the panel’s leaders, “and also to stimulate the collective creativity of the academic community.”

The resulting strategic vision, DU Impact 2025, offered broad strokes for a rollout in a range of transformative directions. But it was the next chancellor—after Chopp’s tenure was cut short by illness—who nurtured the innovative shape this transformation would take.

In 2021, Chancellor Jeremy Haefner described the 4D vision this way: “DU is rebooting the student experience by retaining the engagement students yearn for while being intentional about the skills they need to build lives of purpose.”

Through a holistic approach to learning and personal development, the 4D Experience identifies four interconnected dimensions for student evolution: intellectual growth, purpose-driven careers, well-being, and character exploration.

Laura Perille, Executive Director of the 4D Experience, collaborated with campus partners to create a taxonomy and build out what these dimensions would mean. “What are the habits of thinking and doing associated with each of these dimensions to help people understand how they were already mapping to this work in their pedagogy and practice, but then also initiate conversations around, how can we further advance this work?” she says.

The program challenges conventional achievement-based educational models by prioritizing reflection, mentorship, and practical application alongside academic prowess—noteworthy, for a R1-ranked doctoral institution. Through its innovative framework, DU nurtures graduates to emerge equipped not only for professional success but for meaningful and fulfilling lives. With an intentional, co-curricular environment, the 4D Experience guides students to connect the dots of passion and purpose, building their educational pathways alongside mentors. Those mentors, advisors, and peers become a new student’s “constellation of support,” based on their unique interests, needs, and goals.

“Why a holistic, 4D experience? Because we want our students to have lives of purpose and careers of fulfillment, and we want them to be servants of the public good,” wrote Chancellor Haefner in his Spring 2021 message. “But the world is complicated. Climate change, increasing wealth inequity and injustice are pervasive challenges. Students need more than just a great intellectual and academic journey; they also need experiences from which they can build comprehensive life skills. This is what the 4D experience aspires to deliver.”

1. Advancing Intellectual Growth

At the heart of the 4D Experience is the belief that intellectual growth is more than a measure of academic performance. It is about fostering curiosity, critical thinking, and interdisciplinary connections that prepare students to navigate complex global challenges.

DU’s First-Year Seminar (FSEM) program was an existing program and opportune environment to introduce 4D, and this dimension. These small, topic-focused seminars are designed to ease new students’ transition into college-level learning while encouraging them to think deeply about their goals and values. Heather Martin, a Writing Program instructor and FSEM faculty member, has reimagined her course to align with the new 4D framework. This approach encourages students to connect their academic pursuits with broader life questions with intention from day one.

“My seminar focuses on transitions, both personal and academic. We use texts like Bruce Feiler’s Life Is in the Transitions and Stanford’s Designing Your Life to think about how we experience transitions,” Martin explained. “What are ways we can reflect and process our transitions and be intentional going forward? It’s a real complement to how we welcome students into the DU community. And it also sets up the conversations that will be incorporated in the course content in different ways throughout the campus.”  

One of the tools DU employs to enhance intellectual growth is the e-portfolio system. Students create digital portfolios that document their learning, track their progress across disciplines, and showcase their academic achievements. They can be shared with faculty for assessments and provide a platform to display their skills to an external audience, such as a job interviewer. The portfolios encourage students to see their education as a whole rather than a collection of disconnected courses. “It’s integrated learning framed around the four dimensional experience as buckets to integrate learning,” says Martin. “It’s really exciting to see them thinking with more intentionality about their college experience.”

The program challenges conventional achievement-based educational models by prioritizing reflection, mentorship, and practical application alongside academic prowess.

Beyond the classroom, DU offers a range of high-impact practices designed to deepen intellectual engagement. Internships, research opportunities, and study abroad programs enable students to apply their learning in real-world contexts. “Across the arc of educational experiences, we look at the kinds of moments that may already be pre-existing, where we can build out additional touch points that are engaging students in conversations about practical applications of their studies,” says Perille.

DU’s commitment to intellectual growth extends to its faculty as well. Professional development workshops provide instructors with tools to incorporate reflective practices and interdisciplinary learning into their teaching, and Infusion Grants support faculty and staff with seed funding for projects that enhance the 4D Experience of DU undergraduate or graduate students. “It seemed disingenuous to talk about student thriving without recognizing that faculty and staff are responsible for delivering these kinds of high impact experiences,” says Perille.

2. Pursuing Careers and Lives of Purpose

The second pillar of the 4D Experience prepares students for purposeful and fulfilling careers. By aligning academic learning with professional aspirations, DU ensures that graduates are equipped to navigate the complexities of the modern workforce. But first, it helps students reflect on their interests and values, guiding them to choose majors and career paths that align with their passions.

The Major + Career Exploration Lab, for example, is a quarterly session open to all students to help them discover strategies for matching their interests and values to potential careers, then determining the major that will best set them on that path. Are you unsure what you want to major in? asks the signup page for the event. Have you declared a major but want to confirm that it’s truly for you?

“We encourage students to think about their ‘why’—what motivates them and how they want to contribute to the world. What are the issues that animate you? What do you find yourself drawn to engage in?” Perille says. “We’re getting them to actually think about their ‘why’ as the driving force of thinking about potential careers and majors.”

When Williamson thought about what drew her engagement on campus, she targeted her experiences as a peer mentor and student coordinator. Those roles have given her valuable skills that have fueled her thinking about careers, including possibly working in higher education. “These roles have taught me leadership, organization, and problem-solving—all of which are transferable to the professional world, whatever I end up choosing to do,” she said.

DU also integrates purpose-driven learning into student employment. Through the 4D Reflective Supervision Model, supervisors help student employees connect their campus work to their broader educational and career goals. This intentional approach ensures that even part-time jobs become meaningful learning experiences. Internships, co-op programs, and community engagement opportunities further enhance students’ career readiness. These experiences provide hands-on learning while helping students build networks and explore potential career paths.

This emphasis on purpose-driven careers aligns with broader trends in education and employment, where adaptability, creativity, and emotional intelligence are increasingly valued. It also serves as DU’s answer to contemporary critics of American higher education by creating a more direct link and intentional link between areas of interest, areas of experience, choice of major, and applications of all three in the workforce.

3 Promoting Well-Being

The 4D Experience prioritizes a culture of compassion, making mental, physical, and emotional health essential components of student development alongside academic and professional success. DU built in access to resources students need to thrive, from counseling services and wellness workshops to programs in meditation, fitness, and stress management.

Faculty members like Martin also address well-being in their classrooms. “We talk openly about thriving—what it looks like, how to achieve it, and how to sustain it,” she said. By normalizing these conversations, DU reduces the stigma around mental health and fosters a supportive campus culture—and makes it less surprising when 4D topics arise in core classes. “I think sometimes it can be challenging for students who are high achieving, and they’re accustomed to a certain model of learning that they’re really good at,” she says. “I’m pushing them to think a little bit outside of that previous experience.”

In addition to being a source of academic support, peer mentors are trained to be personal and professional sources of support, and to recognize signs of stress or burnout. On the national level, peer mentorship has been linked to positively impacting student outcomes and addressing systemic barriers to success, and programs are on the rise. Just last month, the Association of Public and Land-Grant Universities (APLU) launched a mentorship initiative, designed to support APLU member universities in developing and implementing sustainable peer mentorship models using technology-enabled solutions.

The university has also developed initiatives to support faculty and staff, recognizing that their well-being is essential to creating a thriving campus community. Workshops on topics such as compassion, collaboration, and stress management provide employees with tools to care for themselves and others.

4 Exploring Character

Character exploration is a vital dimension of the 4D Experience, encouraging students to reflect on their values, develop resilience, and cultivate a sense of purpose while navigating the complexities of modern life with integrity.

DU’s Kennedy Mountain Campus is a unique asset in the university’s toolbox that provides students a place to go—up into the woods—for targeted learning and personal character development outside the classroom. The 724-acre property, a gift from a donor, had previously been the largest Girl Scout camp in Colorado. Now part of DU’s facilities, the Kennedy Mountain Campus is home to the First Ascent Program, an immersive weekend retreat for first-year students that challenges them to step outside their comfort zones and reflect on what matters most to them. The Mountain Campus bordering Roosevelt National Forest offers opportunities for hiking, mindfulness, and community-building, encouraging students to recharge and reflect, strengthening their overall resilience, and connecting with their peers on a deeper level.

In academic settings, character exploration is woven into courses like Martin’s FSEM seminar, which includes reflective writing assignments on topics such as personal values and life philosophy. “The 4D framework makes it easier to bring these discussions into the classroom,” Martin said. “It helps students see the connections between their academic learning and their personal growth.”

Character development is also a dimension that grows out of the mentorship program. Libby Williamson, a junior and peer mentor, was so inspired by her experience, and having absorbed the character modeling by her mentor, that she applied to become a mentor herself, and eventually rose to the role of student coordinator. Mentoring peers, she explains, requires a unique set of skills. “It’s not just about giving advice—it’s about building trust and having meaningful conversations. You’re helping someone discover their own solutions rather than handing them answers.” The mentorship program also provides a space for students to develop leadership, with training in communication, conflict resolution, and emotional intelligence, all of which contribute to their personal and professional growth. For Williamson, these experiences have been transformative: “Mentoring has taught me so much about empathy, patience, and the importance of listening.”

Thinking Today about the Student of the Future

When Perille and others worked to build out the 4D Experience from its pilot stage, they wanted to make sure it reached across all sectors of the campus, and that it be more than a program—something more ingrained, as a shared philosophy.

“We were always thinking, how do we do this at scale in a way that doesn’t exist just in one program, but becomes part of the ethos of the institution? How are we advancing culture change in this vein of holistic student learning and development?” she recalls.

One goal is to generate widespread buy-in, creating a shared language. That would indicate more than a collection of people participating in a program; it would be a community creating a prototype for the student of the future. 

Ultimately, I would say my role is more than curriculum, or education,” says Perille. “It’s one of change management.”

Influencers for Life

In a new series for LearningWell, we ask a variety of college graduates, of different backgrounds, ages, and professions, “What experience or person in college most influenced your development as a human being?”  Our aim is to share stories that show the different influences that shape people’s lives during their education and as they navigate the process of becoming adults.  In doing so, we hope to gain insight and guidance, whether it’s identifying common themes or abandoning long-held beliefs.  

We hope that you, as readers, ask yourselves the same question.  For me, it was an invitation from a fellow student to join a group traveling to New York City to attend a meeting of what is now called the Young Democrats of America. I was a freshly minted political science major immersed in the required curriculum when I found myself off campus with peers who were discussing the direction of the country during the Reagan era. When the conversation turned to me, I spoke up, despite my shyness and the fact that my knowledge on the subject was largely limited to political theory. But something about that experience made me think  “I am someone who is politically active.”  It remains part of who I am today.

We start our series with Richard Miller, President Emeritus of Olin College of Engineering and the founding director of the Coalition for Transformational Education. Miller has dedicated his career to strengthening and expanding higher education’s influence on personal formation and is fond of saying  “A good education changes what you know.  A great education changes who you are.”

Richard Miller and Mel Ramey

LW: “What experience or person in college most influenced your development as a human being?” 

There are several people throughout my education that shaped who I am as a person, but the most relevant is Professor Melvin R. Ramey of the University of California at Davis, where I obtained my Bachelor’s degree in 1971. Mel and I arrived at UC Davis at the same time, in the fall of 1967. He had just finished his Ph.D. at Carnegie Mellon and was a new assistant professor of civil engineering, and I was just enrolling in college, having graduated from Tranquillity Union High School in June of that year. I was assigned to Mel Ramey as my faculty advisor, and I was in his first cohort of student advisees.

Mel was the second  African American faculty member at UCD. While this had some relevance to his personal faculty responsibilities, this had very little effect on me. What was much more significant was the fact that Mel had been a nationally competitive athlete at Penn State in two sports (basketball and track and field), was simultaneously an athletic coach and faculty representative to the NCAA at UCD. Mel coached track and field and several of his mentees won national medals for their performance. While this might seem irrelevant, it is central to his impact on my life and career.

He changed my life and contributed to my lifelong commitment to student wellbeing.

I grew up on a farm with almost no one in my extended family on either side who went to college. Our rural high school did not even offer calculus (and only occasionally offered a weak course in physics) which are both the prerequisites for engineering. About half of our student population at TUHS were migrant farm laborers. While I graduated #2 in my class and got into UCD, Mel knew I was not prepared.  He did, however, see potential in me and drove me to take the most challenging classes which eventually prepared me for a fellowship to MIT for my Master’s degree. I would never have made this journey without his inspiration.

Mel understood that to be an effective teacher you need the same mindset and motivations as a coach. To him, these were essentially identical. A coach takes responsibility for inspiring and mentoring each athlete in his care to achieve their full potential. This can at times involve invasive questions, pushing you when appropriate, and supporting you when appropriate, and never letting you give up. He certainly did this for me and was such an important part of my life that although I changed majors 5 times as an undergraduate (and I did not graduate in civil engineering) I retained Mel Ramey as my undergraduate advisor. My respect for Mel was such that I would rather die than disappoint him.

Mel’s interest in me was authentic and permanent. His values and his example were widely recognized among many students at UCD. His example inspired me to want to pursue a Ph.D. and become a faculty member. I learned so many important life lessons from Mel. For example, every time you walk into a classroom and pick up a piece of chalk, you are not just teaching engineering principles; you are also shaping the attitudes, behavior and beliefs of the students in your class. Later, I learned many other UCD students and athletes were similarly inspired by Mel. One of his former students was a 3-time Olympic medalist in long jump. At a public ceremony in Mel’s honor, he credited Mel with always filling him with joy and wisdom and helping him become all that he is today. While he never shared with me the personal hardships he may have faced due to his race (our conversations were never about him), his life inspired optimism, hard work, and resilience. He changed my life and contributed to my lifelong commitment to student wellbeing .

We became good friends. He visited me in Iowa, after I became Dean of Engineering there, and played ping pong in the basement with our daughters.  I Invited him to be a member of the President’s Council when I was at Olin and we taught a course together in structural analysis and design when he took a sabbatical to Olin about a decade ago.

Mel’s family also remained close. His wife, Felicenne, who recently passed away, was Dean of the Business School at Sacramento State University, and his daughter, Daina Ramey Berry, has become Dean of Humanities and Fine Arts at UC Santa Barbara, where I began my career on the faculty in 1975. She has sought my mentorship from time to time as a form of “full circle” payback and a way for me to honor her father’s contributions to my life.  Mel passed away from brain cancer a few years ago. This memorial/obituary posted on the UC Davis website, available here is a fitting tribute to a remarkable person whose life greatly impacted my own.