
Five years ago, one of the 40 students in my program at the University of Notre Dame called me at 3:00 AM to tell me that she had been admitted to the hospital after experiencing a range of serious and unexplained symptoms. The doctors tested for a number of diseases ranging from meningitis to mononucleosis, all of which yielded negative results. In the meantime, I had to communicate with the student’s parents, who were 2,000 miles away and could not visit because of hospital restrictions, all while watching news reports and attending regular meetings to monitor developments around the rapidly spreading novel coronavirus disease. The student recovered a week later, just in time for spring break and the university-wide announcement that students would not be permitted to return to campus after being away. Over the span of a few days, I had to manage personal and collective crises while navigating how to move an experiential learning program and its credit-bearing components (i.e., courses, internships, professional development programs, etc.) to an online environment.
I chose to frame my “advising and supporting” competency in the context of the 2020 pandemic because of the multiple crises that arose as a result of the health emergency itself and the numerous impersonal and mental health issues that resulted from fear and uncertainty caused by the pandemic. All these were compounded by loneliness, isolation, and increased time indoors in response to lockdowns and public health restrictions. In assessing the needs of students, I learned that each individual required varying responses from me based on her or his stage of development. Applying Erik Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development, for example, students struggling with identity versus role confusion were distraught and bewildered from the rapidly changing circumstances and they needed me to provide them with calm reassurance with clear, detailed instructions. On the other hand, students in the early adulthood phase sought to develop and strengthen bonds with their peers and roommates, and these students found solace and reassurance in their social relationships. Many of these students petitioned me for an exception to remain in their dorms in California because they preferred to be with their friends and they argued, quite convincingly, that it would be more prudent for them to remain with a tight circle of peers who were at low risk for complication than to fly home and stay with older parents and grandparents who were at higher risk of serious illness.
I relied on close relationships with multiple campus departments, public health agencies, and mental health organizations to secure services for students, report data, and to implement health protocols. As a result of the implementation of these protocols, my program was the only off-campus or study abroad program that operated at the university in fall 2020. We accepted a reduced number of 15 students with elaborate protocols in place and multiple adaptations to ensure an impactful semester (e.g., outdoor class meetings, remote internships, and socially distanced cultural activities). However, none of that planning could prepare us for what would become the worst wildfire season in California history. For days on end students could not go outdoors or open their windows, and the skies above San Francisco were obscured by ash and soot. As might be expected, the added time indoors and in close quarters with their roommates, accelerated and intensified tensions and interpersonal disputes. I spent a great deal of time mediating disputes, counseling individual students, and overhauling the social agenda for the semester to promote positive interactions and a healthy culture.
I have spent a fair amount of time reflecting on the students who participated in our programs in 2020 and 2021, and I think about their experiences compared to the students with whom I worked in 2022 and 2023. One of my most significant takeaways from 2020 was the need to remain vigilant about student mental health and the hidden ways that stress and fear manifest in daily life. I began a practice of checking in with each student at least once every two weeks to get a sense for potential mental health or academic issues, as well as a way to offer support and advice. This practice has revolutionized the way that I relate to students and it has dramatically enhanced the quality of my responsiveness to student needs. It has also improved overall culture and group dynamics because it promotes vulnerability, cohort learning, and mutual respect.
Lastly, I wish that I had advocated more for some of the requests made by students at the beginning of the pandemic shutdown. As I mentioned, several students made a compelling case that it would be safer for them to remain in California rather than board airplanes (without protective equipment) and fly home to potentially vulnerable parents. At the time, I simply handed off the request to the provost’s office without taking a position on it myself. I regret not advocating more forcefully for the requests of the students and in hindsight I should have considered their perspectives more thoroughly. I was concerned about liability, but I wish I had prioritized their emotional and social needs. Student development and wellness are top priorities that I consider in every aspect of our programs and in every decision I make. It is important to remain adaptive and responsive to the needs of students and to ensure that university programs help shape and propel them on their journeys of personal and social development.
