Giving what I didn't get

There are three obvious reasons to start working in higher education: 1) you had an amazing time in college, and you want to give that experience back to the next set of students; 2) you had a horrible time in college, and you want to make things better for the students after you; or 3) you don't want to grow up, and working at a school feels like putting the real world on pause.

Realistically, there are probably more reasons than that. I'm sure I would be surprised to hear their answers if I asked everyone I work with now. Personally, my reasoning sits perfectly in explanation number two.

I almost dropped out of school twice during my undergraduate career. My grades weren't bad, but my experience was. My academic advisor was less than helpful. One of my professors literally screamed at me over the status of my mental health. Half of the people I knew hated me for writing about an alleged rapist for the school newspaper, including faculty and staff who interacted with me as a student. (I still say alleged in my writing because his guilty plea was submitted for lesser crimes.)

I was a first-generation student, and no one told me what to expect heading into a four-year university. No one told me that being passionate and getting involved in my journalism major would cause problems for me as a student. I wasn't prepared for a coworker in an on-campus job to gaslight me, follow me to two other on-campus positions, and later accuse me of being a stalker less than a week after I quit a job solely to get away from him. I definitely didn't know my rights in that situation. I couldn't even process my trauma, let alone try to figure out what I was supposed to do.

From sophomore year on, college felt like one bad situation after another, and I took on leadership position after leadership position trying to make it better. With my last two courses wrapping up over the summer so I didn't have to return to a campus that didn't make me feel safe, I graduated in August 2020. A year later, I am still processing the trauma I experienced while working toward that degree, but I'm also putting my experiences to good use.

Now, I work on a college campus while taking online classes for my master's degree in higher education.

I get to do the fun stuff by program planning and assisting with student organizations. I pass on reported retention issues and students of concern from the Resident Assistants who report to me. I'm also a first responder at times, to COVID-19 positive tests and reported sexual misconduct, among other things.

I love my job because I get to be part of a support system for students. I'm able to pass on resources and listen to students' concerns. Even when it's just the RAs I work with complaining about their job requirements, I can respond the way I wish someone had responded when I was in my undergrad. I can offer professional development that doesn't come with personal criticisms and explain why things work the way they do. I can connect students with the kind of information I wish I would've had.

I'm always going to be learning. The students I work with are always going to give me new challenges. The joy for me is that every day is about how I can do better.

Especially now, I realize how problematic my environment was while I struggled my way through school. Reading federal education mandates like Title IX, the Clery Act, and FERPA became my biggest hobby during my senior year. I became someone that other students would come to with questions about frustrating or confusing situations with university administrators. That never should have had to be the case, but it led me here. Now, I can draw from my bad experiences and what I've learned from them.

I can't change what my undergrad looked like. I can't warn my past self with what I know now, but I get to spend every day making the college I work at a better place. I get to make a difference. If I'm successful in my goals, I get to help create a space where students who do have problems like the ones I experienced can come forward and get the help they need instead of feeling pushed out the door.

Not everyone has a job where they get to make a meaningful difference, but I have the potential to make a difference every time I go into the office or pick up the on-call phone. We're only two weeks into the fall semester, and I already know that I've made an impact for a few students this year.