Chapter 3: “You’re Not Just a Teacher But a Home to Some of Us”: Connecting and Not Connecting with Faculty
Students in the previous chapter explained how they often find PSU classrooms alien and impersonal, that faculty and classmates alike seemed unfamiliar and even hostile to the more sociable way of living that they had grown up with..
This chapter considers New Majority students’ more particular relationships with professors, as this is a topic that our interviewees often spoke about eloquently and at great length. Since so many New Majority students come from tight-knit families and cultures, where relationships with others are at the center of one’s identity and every-day life, it is perhaps not surprising that their interactions with professors play such a large role in whether or not they have found college worthwhile.
Faculty Disinterest
Many students were surprised and discouraged by how disinterested in them their teachers seemed to be. Elizabeth Rodriguez had enjoyed the “actual connection” she had felt in her high school classes and was disappointed to find that most PSU faculty “are in and out, in and out.” Htoo Say lamented that in most of his classes, “the professor would just talk behind a slide.” Anonymous 28, shortly before graduating, said that her typical PSU professor had a “if you want to come to my office hours that’s fine,” sort of attitude. “I wouldn’t say” they have been “approachable,” she concludes. Jesus Jimenez has had many professors who say “we have office hours,” but “they could care less.”
Even emailing professors “gives me anxiety,” as the replies often take a long time to arrive. Olivia Monestime fantasized about asking some of her professors “whether they even want to teach.” Mohammed Al Qudah has also had teachers who “don’t even seem like they want to be teaching,” including one who “himself doesn’t even know what is going on in the class.”
Other students describe faculty who were more organized, but remote. Omar Mahfouz remembers encountering professors who seemed distant, one in particular projected the attitude, “I’m going to speak, you guys take notes, and then I’ll leave.” Miguel Izquierdo found that most of his classes consisted of “just showing up and listening.”
Maria Castro-Mendoza, now in graduate school, had some undergraduate classes in which “I don’t know if I ever talked to the professor.” “You go in, you take notes, you leave.” “It’s disheartening,” she concludes. Anonymous 26 left PSU after a year due to financial struggles and felt especially out of place in a class where “the professor just talked . . . for an hour,” and very fast, with no time for questions. “I had to do the research by myself, because I couldn’t understand what he was saying.” She did not know anyone in the class, and, in any event, some of her classmates “were sleeping.” She felt less out of place in other classes but, aside from her FRINQ class, “I didn’t go to office hours because I was afraid.” “The professors always felt like the students should go up to them,” she recalls. “They never email you saying ‘are you OK? I didn’t see you in class.’” “I barely finished high school,” she continues, “but the teachers were always there for you.”“I barely finished high school,” she continues, “but the teachers were always there for you.”
Joanna Garcia Avalos also recalls assuming that PSU would be like high school, with teachers who checked in with her, but “you’re really on your own” at PSU. She notes that the majority of her instructors have been white males, that her major is dominated by men, “so it’s always nice to have female professors!” They “are usually more open to student engagement in classes” and “more likely to reach out to students.” The male professors “talk a lot, but the majority of classes are very informative, with a few professors who don’t really include students.”
Lack of Engagement in Classes
Autumn Cabral said the typical PSU professor’s approach was: “I’m going to lecture you the whole class, and then you go home and do your homework.” Anonymous 9, who graduated in four years, recalls that most of her classes were “just” something you had “to get through,” with professors whose attitude was “I’m talking at you for two hours.” “I may not have really learned anything, but I got the degree,” she concludes. Many classes “are just lecture after lecture,” with little interaction between anyone, notes Amer Bonie. Anonymous 15 remarked that professors in the big classes usually focus on “getting through the lectures, the slides.”
“I felt disconnected the whole time I was at PSU,” reports Anonymous 18, a graduate. She would sometimes email and not receive a response, so stopped doing that. Balkhiis Noor, like many graduates, cannot think of a single professor she had in her major who could write her a letter of reference. “I can’t even remember their names,” though she does fondly recall one who was very engaging. “Probably zero,” responds Jo Do, upon being asked how many professors in her areas of study could write a letter of reference for her. “They don’t know me,” she concludes. “I do the bare minimum, and that’s it,” is how Peter Nguyen sums up the attitude of most of his professors.
Hector Amezola sensed that some faculty simply cared more about research than teaching. “They would talk about their research” in class and “take forever,” up to a month, to reply to an email: “it doesn’t feel good to have a professor who isn’t approachable and doesn’t respond.” Anonymous 20, who struck us as especially tactful, remarked that the faculty in his major were very focused on their research (“solving a puzzle”), and were probably very kind to others outside the university, away from their work place.
Negative Impacts on Students
This disinterest in teaching and students harmed students in many ways. Kevin Yang describes the great majority of his instructors as people who “prefer just to keep it at a professional level,” and that “it’s rare to run into professors who go beyond that.” “Me personally, I don’t mind it,” but he wishes that such professors could be more professional about grading assignments promptly, as 80 to 90 percent of the time they take more than a week, and he once had to wait four weeks.
Adelyne Garcia found that some faculty “just don’t care about their students,” and cited an example of a professor who “didn’t take the time to meet with students,” so “I knew he wasn’t going to help me.” She failed the class and lost her financial aid as a result.
Jennifer Lopez-Garrido was nearing graduation when COVID hit, and experienced a serious mental-health crisis that caused her to flunk several classes and nearly caused her to drop out and give up on her dream of achieving a degree. Having heard stories about professors not being empathetic about such challenges, she was afraid to share her challenges with them. But she was hurt and disappointed that none of her professors “reached out when I was failing the class,” especially since so many students were struggling during COVID. If one had done so, “I probably would have opened up.”
Lack of Meaningful Relationships with Faculty
Liza Ramirez hungers for “discussions that involve professors,” since “they are mentors” and “should be involved.” But often “I just sit there, they just lecture, and that’s it, that’s all I get.” Kashindi Heragi was at first intimidated by her professors. They seemed so busy, and “I used to be nervous.” Now, in her third year, she has become more assertive, but sometimes that does not help, especially in her online classes. She has learned that emails are seldom answered promptly, soon enough to help her, “so I don’t do it.” Sometimes, “I feel left out.”
Wilondja Denis Mashimango, who graduated in 2024, recalls having hoped for much more meaningful and personal relationships with his professors at PSU. “I’m not saying that being a refugee is an excuse for being late” with an assignment, he remarks, but “it was hard. . . . coming from a totally different experience.”“I’m not saying that being a refugee is an excuse for being late” with an assignment, he remarks, but “it was hard. . . . coming from a totally different experience.” “I grew up in the fields” and missed a lot of school. He remembers coming home to eat a little porridge, then going back to work hungry, as he needed to leave a portion for his younger brother.
He wonders if more professors had known his story, had been able “to put” themselves “in my shoes,” that they might have thought of “ways to help me thrive” and perhaps to understand “why I am late on an assignment.” He wished they had asked, “how are you feeling?” Even the professors who taught about refugees seemed ignorant of or disinterested in his childhood living in a refugee camp. He remembered hearing in high school “college is hard” and that “some professors don’t care.” So, “maybe this is why people say college is hard,” that sense of not being seen or understood. “It makes people feel that it’s all up [to] me, . . . it is hard even to ask for help.” But “class should be a sanctuary . . . where I can be understood and understand.” He is grateful for the many friends and connections he made playing intramural sports, but laments that after his FRINQ, his classes were so impersonal.
Many students spoke of how they learned to evaluate whether or not professors were safe to approach. “Most of the time I don’t reach out to professors if the environment feels off,” remarks Letty. She pays attention to “the feeling when you walk into the classroom,” as some faculty “completely ignore my presence and the other students.” Such professors commonly have an “impatient tone” when students ask questions, and “keep referring us to the book” rather than answering the questions in class. Anonymous 3 ordinarily e-mails a professor with a question and then considers the length and tone of the reply in deciding whether or not to email them again. With “some professors I feel extremely comfortable” and with “some I feel like I’m intruding.” Anonymous 4 described professors who “write in the syllabus, ‘please reach out,’ but when you do, they’re kind of short with you.” And her email queries are sometimes answered with “look on Canvas,” the course website.
Going to office hours did not necessarily help students who were confused. Anonymous 1 relates how one professor responded to her questions by “talking about things I didn’t understand” without asking if she understood. Her “imposter syndrome,” her fear of being out of place in the course, increased. Professors can seem “so nice,” remarks Thierry Ndayisaba, “but as time goes on, you find out they’re not.”
Feeling Judged by Professors
Students had very vivid memories of how they felt when professors snubbed them. Paola Vargas, who returned to PSU after having two children, recalls two instances in which she felt very judged. One was when she brought her sleeping daughter to class for a short amount of time when the campus daycare had closed unexpectedly. Her professor was very unhappy with her, and “I felt so uncomfortable.” She left another class permanently when the professor informed first and second-year students to drop the class in a way that seemed “very rude.” “I almost thought he was talking about me,” though she was in her third year. “He belittled those students,” essentially “calling them dumb,” and “I didn’t want to take a class from a professor like that.”
Lucy Martinez struggled with professors who “have questioned” her accommodations even after they had been notified of those accommodations by the DRC. Hector Amezola recalls a professor in an upper-level course who was very knowledgeable but “he wasn’t very approachable at all,” and “would kind of put down” students who asked questions. Anonymous 3 “was reaching out for help” in a fully online class, and the professor replied “read the first line of the syllabus.” She had in fact read the entire syllabus, so asked for a meeting, and he responded, “I’m on vacation.” He did offer to meet, but after the assignment she needed clarification on was due. She concludes: “It’s about being respectful to people. . . . you don’t even have to be kind.”
Dulcebeth Lopez Martinez recalls feeling “embarrassed” as well as frustrated when a professor refused to clarify an assignment she had a question on, first through email, then during class, after she overcame her shyness to ask out loud. Liza Ramirez vividly recalls writing a long email to a professor about how “I am really struggling in the class” and “with what I’m supposed to do for the final,” explaining that “English is not my first language.” The professor just said to read the syllabus. Mark Mosad, who had lived in the U.S. for only a few years upon entering PSU, and was still struggling to understand academic English, felt “fear” when a professor responded to his questions by asking, “are you listening or not?”
Not Feeling Seen by Professors
Taiye Timothy, graduated from PSU and already working in her field, wishes that faculty had been more interested in her for both practical and personal reasons. “Sometimes when you ask for help, they act like you are going to ask for a favor,” she recalls. They would say things such as “so, why haven’t you completed these assignments. . . . have you read the syllabus?” She wishes instead that they would “see me as a person” and ask questions such as “why are you struggling . . . how can I help you?” She had hoped that they would “know who I am.” ”I wish there were more personal connections,” that they had been curious about “what I want to accomplish.”
Even the students who did not expect to make connections at PSU often remark that they wish that they could. When we asked Michelle Galvan, who graduated from PSU in four years and went straight into a job in her field, if she had a relationship with any of her professors after FRINQ, she replied “absolutely not.” She “didn’t try,” but also “didn’t feel invited to.” Stenar Narruhn speaks with particular eloquence about the tension he feels between accepting what PSU is like and the sadness he feels from being so anonymous. He has learned that disconnection is the norm, even in a class with just thirteen students: “that’s what school’s like at a big university.” “You just do assignments and go home.” So, “I never thought I would connect with a professor.” But he wishes it could be otherwise. “In the real world, you’re gonna hear people’s stories.” “I learned to just listen” from sharing stories in FRINQ class, “and how to be vulnerable. . . . sensitive and open-minded.” But since then, his experience has been “I just do their assignments, pass their class, that’s it.” He realizes that faculty “can’t make a connection with every student you have, but still. . . . a professor can at least know my name . . . because it’s pretty unique.”
Impact of Positive Faculty Connections
Many students were at their most eloquent and passionate when talking about the impact that a professor taking an interest in them had made. Michelle Galvan reflected fondly on how her capstone professor “would recognize us as people” by responding “individually” to what they wrote in their weekly reflections. He also asked her “on the first day of class about my work and continued to ask about it throughout my term with him,” one of just two professors at PSU who knew about her demanding job with at-risk juveniles.
She offers this advice for white professors: stop “being afraid to talk to me. . . . when you do see a person of color, have that sympathy, feel with them, take extra time with them, especially now,” when such students are so vulnerable. There were many discussions dominated by white males, and she worried “what are they going to say about me?” if she spoke. “I would feel small if I talked in a group of white students.” The professors need to check in verbally “one to one,” in private, with students of color in such classes.
Daisy Duran Navarro appreciates that some professors notice that she is the only woman of color in a class and “make sure to hear my opinion”–without putting her on the spot. Donny Vu notes how Erin Williams “made me like math more” by joking with people who asked a question in order to get to know them and how she “walked around more as we were doing worksheets” to offer one-on-one clarification.”
Denisse Meza Santellano appreciates that Chris Shortell in Political Science “would call on me even if I didn’t raise my hand.” Jo Do fondly recalls how Chris Allen would “set up early” before class so that he then had time to “just talk to people” in the few minutes before it started, asking “how are you doing?” or what their last class had been like. As a peer mentor herself, she has learned the power of taking “five minutes to have students talk to each other,” and looking for opportunities to “go and talk to the students who don’t ordinarily talk to you.”
Anonymous 27 praised Dixie Whetsell, in the School of Public Health, for being “very personable, very caring,” and “very passionate about her field.” Serena Camarillo appreciated how professors such as Jessica Ramirez in Chicanx and Latinx Studies who ask, “who hasn’t spoken yet?” Ximena Rivas Quiroz Bejar, who entered PSU acutely self-conscious about her ability to understand and speak English, also urges professors to not ignore students who seem shy. “Just be more open” to knowing the particular situations of your students, bearing in mind “that this county is a combination of so many languages and cultures.”
Cheyla Urbano-Santos says that “it feels like you are at a friend’s house” in Martin Alberto Gonzalez’s Chicanx and Latinx classes.Cheyla Urbano-Santos says that “it feels like you are at a friend’s house” in Martin Alberto Gonzalez’s Chicanx and Latinx classes. “He just gets really enthusiastic about what he’s teaching” and creates “such a welcoming environment” and “will take the time to talk with students.” In other classes, though, she feels that her ethnicity and her education are in separate compartments: “I try to let my identity not interfere with my education.” “Belonging,” sums up Anonymous F2, is when “a professor recognizes that “you are a person with needs,” that “you’re more than just a student, . . . . it’s not just transactional.”
Anonymous 28 has several years experience as a pre-school teacher and has given a great deal of thought to why personal connections between teachers and students are so crucial. “Just being seen . . . is really important,” she begins. “Acknowledging how” students are “feeling, what they’re doing outside of school,” matters a lot. “Maybe it’s just a small comment,” but students of all ages treasure that sort of recognition. She and her co-teachers emphasize “teamwork and social connection.” It is “similar to how I grew up”; Latinas “thrive with relationships and care.” She found PSU “more individualistic,” She has shared about her own experience as a teacher in her introductions in courses, and the faculty respond, “‘that’s cool,’ but that’s kind of it.” Sometimes she is asked how to pronounce her names, but “it seems performative, as “you’re not going to look at it, and you’re not going to remember.” She is impressed by the supervisor of her practicum in Child, Youth, and Family Services, Staci Martin. “I enjoy talking with her,” and in fact Staci tells her: “you have to talk with me.” It is required.
“Being recognized by a professor” reminded Anonymous 8 that “there are people who really care.” “A lot of people don’t feel seen” in the U.S., notes Axel Lozano-Ortiz, who is entering his third year as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Panama after graduating from PSU in 2023. Many professors at PSU do not understand “the power of a simple hello, how is your day, how is your family?” “It’s very alienating” if you are working hard in your classes but feel invisible. Joanna Garcia Avalos describes herself as quite shy, and easily intimidated by professors who seem so busy. She would appreciate professors “just reaching out by email” several times a term to say, “hey, if you need help,” let me know.
Anonymous F2 speaks of Jose Padin in Sociology as one such professor, as he strove “to acknowledge the humanity of every person in the class,” was both “very smart” and “very caring” and required two one-to-one meetings with him per term. “I feel lost already,” is how Martin Valle immediately reacted to his first-year Chemistry class. But Eric Sheagley and his teaching assistant were helpful, and by spring term he was going to office hours and realized that he had “overthought a lot of things” and found that his professors were “pretty supportive” when he reached out to them.
David is struck by how many of his former students treasured what seemed at the time like small gestures of recognizing or valuing them. Anonymous 20 came to PSU with doubts over whether or not his English would be sufficient, and sought David out immediately after the first class for reassurance about that. A few days later he submitted his first weekly reflection, and David responded with an email praising his writing as “really strong.” He recalls feeling as if he were “on a second cloud,” confident that he could achieve his dream of graduating from a U.S. university.
Omar Mahfouz remarks that David “knew my journey” and “saw me grow a little bit,” recognizing him as more than just another student in the classroom. Lizeth remarks that “my relationship with David was the best, because he’s still in my life.” “I find David as my father,” not a “scary big man,” remarks Thierry Ndayisaba. “I can go talk to him.” Anonymous 29 remembers that David “gave my family citizenship cards” to help her mother study for her citizenship exam.
Jennifer Lopez-Garrido remembers that “David was very involved in our work . . . he really took an interest in us and what we were doing.” One experience in particular was “very powerful.” David asked her to read the poem “Cargo,” by Greg Kimura, to the class on the last day, as a way of bringing closure to their three terms together. She felt anxious but also honored to be singled out. So she read the poem and still remembers that as a moment when an instructor entrusted her with something important. “The little things” matter, she concludes. Daisy Duran Navarro says that an email David forwarded to her the year after she was in FRINQ about a program for students like her has been transformative.
Students often remark that they work harder when they feel recognized and appreciated by their instructors. Taiye Timothy prioritized the assignments in her FRINQ class “because the instructor is putting effort into me.” “If the professor takes more interest in me,” remarks Diego Argaez, “I’m more willing to be more open to expressing myself in class,” to be “more pro-active.” Anonymous 9 most appreciated her FRINQ and capstone classes in large part because in them it was “easier to talk with the professor. “You felt like you were doing something right” in those classes.
Several students expressed deep gratitude to professors who knew them well enough to trust them. Balkhiis Noor “appreciated the professors who gave me an extension without having to explain too much,” because she hated “the pity” that often came when she had to go into detail about her family’s struggles. “It is difficult to tell another person about your personal life, including a professor, whom we need to explain in order to ask for accommodations,” says Anna Bui, who encourages the students in her FRINQ mentor sessions to say: “I have a family situation, and that I need to take care of it,” to “not feel obligated to tell them exactly what is happening.” Such vulnerability is hard to put into words. When students go into that sort of detail, they are “devastated when professors do not believe or accept that explanation. As Letty put it: “I wish they brought more humanness to the classes and how they respond when a student is going through something personal,” as faculty seemed to assume that students were “making excuses” if they asked for more time.
Desire to Make Personal Connections with Faculty
Many interviewees expressed a deep hunger to make personal connections with faculty. Professors would not have to “worry about AI” or cheating if they put more energy into knowing their students, remarks Peter Nguyen. “There’s many of us who feel disheartened” because “our families can’t help us,” as they do not understand what college is like. So, “if faculty won’t help us, we’re doomed.” “There’s many of us who feel disheartened” because “our families can’t help us,” as they do not understand what college is like. So, “if faculty won’t help us, we’re doomed.”There is more chance of being successful” when students have a personal connection with a professor, notes Lyudmila Nabeyeva.
“As a first-generation student I look up to my professor,” remarks Ana Bui. “Their encouragement,” their capacity “to care about how I’m doing,” is very important. As a peer mentor, she sees students who feel discouraged by professors who seem not to believe in their potential. “Make us believe in ourselves.” And if students feel like a professor cares, “they want to show up, to listen.”
Eve, who has been teaching at PSU soon after receiving her B.A., found that her students were “motivated . . . if they feel welcome. “As an adjunct, I don’t get paid enough to care about them as much as I do,” but ”it’s so rewarding to see their faces light up.” “It takes my breath away.” “It was a gift” when a professor took a personal interest in him, remarks Wilondja Denis Mashimango. “Somebody actually heard me today.”
“We are all human beings,” asserts Kashindi Heragi. Refugees such as herself “came to America . . . for more than opportunities. . . . We aren’t expecting to be treated like we do not belong here.” So, “don’t act like my thoughts don’t matter,” because “that breaks me, it makes me feel” as “if you don’t care about me” and students will wonder, “what’s school for?” “As a professor, you’re not just a teacher but a home to some of us.”
Enjoying Classrooms that Encourage Classmate Connections
Students often spoke of how much they enjoyed classrooms in which they could form warm relationships with each other. Anonymous 9 recalled her FRINQ class as one of rare times at PSU where she felt connected to her classmates. The eldest child in an immigrant family, “I loved being a shoulder for someone.” “It meant a lot” to her, “it made me happy.”
Vinuar Gardi, who had a very demanding major, loved the Peer Mentor sessions in her FRINQ. “Apollo created a really safe place, where students feel safe to talk to the professor, other students,” a place where you could ask a “dumb question” and not fear being judged. Wilondja Denis Mashimango also loved his mentor sessions. “We saw each other as family and friends” and would text each other at times when otherwise he might be “in my dorm,” alone, “just talking to myself.”
Thierry Ndayisaba remarked that the peer mentor sessions were the best part of FRINQ and praised Alejandra Vazquez for giving students a place to share about their lives: “You made us feel like we belonged here.” She was “that big sister” with whom “we created this family.” Anonymous 30 recalls walking into FRINQ class “and it definitely felt like a community,” a web of relationships that energized and “motivated me.” Gabriela Cano-Hernandez loved her senior capstone project with Latino Network. “It’s so heart warming” she shares, seeing middle school students who were younger versions of her reading literature about themselves.
Why is Connecting with Others so Important?
Asked why connecting with professors and others at PSU was so important, students often struggled to explain what was, to them, self-evident. “It feels like they want to talk about academics only,” remarks Peter Nguyen, so students end up “learning from the book, not” from “experiences.” He would like to know what has motivated his professors, the parts of their lives “maybe that could relate to us.” “My professors don’t know about” his project connecting some 700 people across the world in an online friendship group: “I feel like it’s unimportant to them.” “They kind of encapsulate themselves in this bubble of their expertise and don’t want to go beyond that,” he laments.
Axel Lozano-Ortiz, the Peace Corps Volunteer in Panama, wishes that faculty could learn how to connect on a personal level, as he did in his training as a peer mentor in UNST. “What are our deeper things?” Faculty should be “talking about lived experiences,” and helping their students to, also. “We’re both here,” students and professors, even if “we are in different phases of our lives,” remarks Anonymous 12. “We’re always told “network,” but most professors seem to feel that “their experiences don’t relate” to students’ lives, so they do not try to connect with them. “We know that they’re not perfect,” and students would like to know about those imperfections, those struggles, “to have a conversation with a professor as if they are a friend.” Besides, “if you really listen to what your students are saying, you’ll get an idea of how they think.”
Positive Examples of Impactful Professors
When asked for positive examples of professors who “significantly impacted your academic experience,” students most often spoke of feeling seen, of instructors who took a personal interest in them. Davika Dige describes Eric Sheagley, in Chemistry, as “just an exceptional person” who “wants to see the best in every single student.” “He’s incredible.” Anonymous 25 praised Eric for taking a sincere interest in their lives: “He wants to get to know you outside of teaching” and even asked about her siblings. His extended office hours have been especially helpful to her. She went once then soon twice a week and soon “drug my friends” along. One day, when she could not come at the regular hours and needed help, he accommodated her, and they talked for close to two hours.
Elizabeth Rodriguez appreciates how Mari Schay, in music, would ask “how’s your day” to students–inside and outside of class. Olivia Monestime recalls how Susan Masta, in biology, was “the most gracious” of her professors when she got COVID. “And, after that, she knew my name.” Liliane Kwizera was impressed when Mark Moran, a marketing professor said, on “the first day, . . . here is my number . . . let me know if you need more time for an assignment.”
Paola Vargas, who returned to PSU after having two children, is very pleased that her professors have been so understanding about her family responsibilities. Antony Martinez in Chicanx and Latinx Studies “was super kind” upon learning that Paola’s daughter had an ear ache. “Ear infections are terrible,” he replied. Keela Johnson was also understanding about family emergencies and “would send butterfly emojis.” “You could feel the caring through the emails,” remarks Paola.
Jaden Martin praises his two FRINQ professors, Óscar Fernández and Nathan Gies, for taking a strong interest in “us and our stories” and Radhika Reddy in Biology for calling “me by name” when “I raised my hand” in a class of some 100 students. Óscar is “very supportive, . . . he talks about his life and wants to know about our lives.” Esmeralda Lara Garcia appreciated the one-to-one meetings with Óscar, which helped her to “feel supported by him.” “I think he just cared more about his students than his profession,” remarks Kashindi Heragi, of Óscar. Her peer mentor, Maria, “made me feel so comfortable to open up with my questions,” and would email everyone after their sessions, “if you feel stuck, be sure to come and see me if you can.” She and Óscar “were a team,” like “family.” Anonymous 29 urges faculty to pay close attention to how they respond to students, to their “body language” and “tone.” It is very important to ensure that students feel like you are “paying attention when [they] talk to you.” Omar Mahfouz believes faculty should intentionally make time for student interaction, whether in class or one-on-one, so learners don’t “just go in and out.”
Interactions with faculty could be life changing. Maria Castro-Mendoza praises Molly Benitez for not only teaching a highly demanding and engaging class in Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, but for staying in touch with her, writing letters of reference for her graduate school application, and meeting with her during her first term of graduate school. She also recalls volunteering alongside her FRINQ instructor and being treated as an “equal.” These faculty relationships gave her “the courage to dream.”
Likewise, Omar was especially impressed with Professor Thomas Hancock, who would routinely stay more than an hour after large Biology lectures to answer questions. He also gave Omar detailed feedback on his dental-school application and even scheduled a thirty-minute meeting just to review his personal statement. “That shocked me the most,” Omar recalls, “he really wanted me to succeed.”
Anna Bui vividly recalled a day when her Organic Chemistry Professor, Shuvasree Ray, had a meeting with her and provided advice and guidance through a challenging situation she was facing. One phrase that really stuck out to Anna was, “It’s important for women to share their experiences,” as Dr. Ray told her. Anna realized how she had been socialized, in her traditional Vietnamese community, not to do that. The conversation prompted her to “reflect on the old traditional ways of thinking . . . and how it affected me.” This encourages Anna to use her voice as a tool to stand up for herself and for others. Mark Mosad was delighted when Shuvasree agreed to write a letter of reference for him, that “she actually remembered me” years after he had taken a class from her.
Ximena Rivas Quiroz Bejar, who entered PSU after being in the U.S. for just a few years, was able to graduate in four years with a degree in Architecture and reports that five of her professors knew her well enough to write a letter of reference for her. In fact, one of them offered her a job in her firm.
Anonymous 12 found meaningful “relationships with professors” in Graphic Design, has faculty she can turn to for help, and is grateful that Marc Moran, who teaches advertising is “very much present in his students’ lives.” Another “helped me to figure out how to graduate” and “how to build out my portfolio.”
Monica Nesta-Beltran is deeply grateful to Janet Cowal in Linguistics, who helped her to find a way to graduate in four years, and invited her “to be part of her research project.” “I believe you can do this,” she told Monica, who felt frightened as well as intrigued by the opportunity. Janet “also pushed me into applying for the McNair Program. . . . she saw something I didn’t see” in her, in Monica. Anonymous 14 praises Daniel Wong, who taught supply-side business classes, for being a professor who “always uplifted” his students and the field. Daniel “gave me a lot of life and motivation” to apply for and secure a job in his field upon graduating.
Amara Frost, about to enter graduate school, regrets that she found this sort of personalized, close support only after leaving PSU for the University of Oregon. In Eugene, “most of my professors are very interested in students,” in “supporting” and “mentoring” them. The professors “encourage students to check out their research lab, but it’s not just their research lab”; students are also an important part of it. “Most of the professors encourage office hours” in her major, they want to spend time with undergraduates, and there is even a “dedicated journal of undergraduate research.” “Everyone has been so much more encouraging,” she concluded. “I went from having nobody at PSU to having” several professors plus a pair of programs supporting her.
Appreciation of Faculty Who Are Generous with Their Time
Students were particularly eloquent in praising faculty who were generous with their time. Hector Amezola cited Trevor Snyder, a part-time instructor: “He was very kind, very sweet guy, very approachable.” “He kind of just taught for fun,” it seemed, and “you could even text him,” and he would respond quickly and was often in the engineering building.Hector Amezola cited Trevor Snyder, a part-time instructor: “He was very kind, very sweet guy, very approachable.” “He kind of just taught for fun,” it seemed, and “you could even text him,” and he would respond quickly and was often in the engineering building. Anonymous 2 praised two of her Chemistry instructors, Eric Sheagly and Shuvasree Ray, for making themselves so readily available to students, such as having many options for office hours, both in person and online. They also stayed after class to talk with students, and if a student came to their office hours, they made a point of remembering that student’s name and then “would acknowledge them by name” in class, using their work as positive examples.
Adelyne Garcia praised her Sophomore Inquiry (SINQ) professor in UNST for being “open to my ideas,” and even if ten students were waiting after class, “she’d take twenty minutes to talk with us all.” Gio Garcia spent two or three hours a week in the office of his math professor Gabriel Pinochet Soto, who translated the course lectures into Spanish. Another Spanish-speaking professor, Cesar Rodriguez, in Economics, spent about two hours a week explaining the course content to Gio in Spanish, and coaching him on how to prepare for the exams.
Students often measured faculty engagement by the type and depth of feedback they provided. Kevin Yang praised his professor in an online gerontology class, Robert Hesslink, for being so engaged. He posted “weekly videos” with general feedback on the assignments but also responded with four to five sentences of particular feedback to each student on papers, including “a detailed description of what we did right.”
Fostering Connections in Class
Students noticed when professors connected with students during class. Letty praised a professor who asked students if they had questions during quizzes, who was “a lot more engaged with all the students” than other professors were. Anonymous 1 notes that Esteghlalian Ali in the School of Business would call on students in class, “so you had to be alert,” and was strict about attendance, but he also would remind students that “you are wonderful people and have so much to give the world” and would frequently check in to see if class members wished “to share something.” Joanna Garcia Avalos identified a Criminology professor who did not have any graduate degrees as “a cool professor” who engaged with the class and “let everyone talk.”
Diego Ramos, who left PSU for San Jose State, recalls fondly the professor he had in his first term of graduate school who “was himself, . . . just kind of showing that you have the liberty to be yourself in class.” He told the class that he had ADHD and complimented Diego on his shirt. Rebecca Hart Benitez Hernandez was only able to attend PSU for a year before circumstances beyond her control forced her out of school, but she recalls so fondly the energy of her Korean instructor, Jihye Kim. “That girl could teach,” she sang and danced in class, “went out of her way to ask about our personal lives,” checked in with students who were struggling, and “showed up every day with a smile on her face.” Rebecca also praised Jihye for creating a “very community-oriented class.” “It almost felt like a bunch of friends,” she recalls. She also made a lot of connections in her FRINQ class. “I had never experienced” a diverse group of people, including men, being so vulnerable together. “I am forever grateful for being part of that community, . . . it was an honor to be part of that class.” Other students praised faculty who trusted their students to lead classes.
Vinuar Gardi is grateful to Andrew Santa Lucia in architecture for facilitating open discussions and allowing “the students to guide” their group studio project. Diego Ramos, who majored in architecture before transferring from PSU, recalled that “in smaller architecture classes it was easier to connect.” as they spend so much time together. Students appreciated breaks from lectures. Jo Do’s Family Youth and Children’s Services instructor “would have us get out of our seats” which “was really engaging for me.”
“I learn more from students than professors,” remarks Thierry Ndayisaba, adding that “everybody’s friendly except the professors,” and that “friends are the connections of school.” “I’m going to learn more when I’m working with others.” “I learn more from students than professors,” remarks Thierry Ndayisaba, adding that “everybody’s friendly except the professors,” and that “friends are the connections of school.” Eric Sheagley in Chemistry, recalls Anonymous 25, has “activity days” in which “we work with whoever is around us.” Edgar Ruiz Garcia says that Mary Ann Triska in Civil Engineering “always encouraged us to work in groups” and wanted students to “get to know each other,” and would herself go from group to group during the group times.
Lucy Martinez likes how Lori Patterson in her online SINQ and cluster courses in UNST invites students to write “long rants in discussion” posts about their lives, and “it’s really nice” to feel heard. The responses other people leave give her a sense of “community.” Dulcebeth Lopez Martinez praises Keela Johnson’s SINQ class. “She gave students the time to talk” with each other, set up the room in an “inviting” way and “would let students express” themselves. This made her “more excited . . . when I would come to class.” Noemi Cruz Garcia also cites Keela’s group work for helping her to feel connected to her classmates. Anonymous F1 appreciated Theresa Dudeck, in Theater, for “getting everyone engaged,” for not just lecturing. Tamlyn Tashiro reports that the professors in her English classes rarely lecture, are very “discussion based,” or “community based,” which facilitates “at least temporary friendship” between students. “It gives us a chance to learn who we are,” she remarks. “Put us into groups,” asserts Diana Melgar Ruano, don’t “just talk about it.”
Time to interact with other students was particularly important in “majority minority” classrooms. Miguel Izquierdo appreciated that both his FRINQ and SINQ classes had “lots of people of Hispanic background and first-generation.” “A lot of them were just as lost as I was,” which “made everyone much more approachable.” Diego Ramos said that “understanding everyone’s story” helped him to have “compassion and empathy” for all of his classmates, since “there was a struggle at some point” in all of their lives.
Ensuring Students Feel Safe and Heard
One of the risks of inviting student interaction, from group work to open discussions, is that PSU’s parts of PSU’s diverse student body might struggle to feel safe or be heard. Interviewees laid out a variety of ways that professors have taken care of that.
New Majority students especially appreciate having professors who share their background, or who at least have had the experience of growing up facing some sort of engrained prejudice. Esmeralda Lara Garcia experiences “another layer of connection” when her FRINQ instructor, Óscar Fernández, speaks or writes even a phrase in Spanish. “I never had teachers who spoke Spanish or were Hispanic” before. Lily A. could “see myself” in Professor Melissa Patiño Vega, and “I stayed after class to talk with her.” “I feel that connection culturally” as well as personally, with her.
Naomi Morales Rodriguez praises Latino Studies Professor Martín Alberto Gonzalez for the “this-is-some-shit” attitude that he brings to class, that what they are studying has deep relevance to their lives. His classroom became her “new safe place” where she could talk about her life without being pitied (“pobrecito”) by white students for the challenges she has faced. Mohammed Al Qudah remarks that he “just felt connected to” Pedro Ferbel-Azcarate, his Caribbean Studies professor, even without talking with him directly. The class addressed “social issues, diversity,” and the class itself was diverse, which helped him to feel at ease.
Of course content makes a big difference. Lily A. appreciated Staci Martin assigning articles on topics such as “familismo” and “machismo” “It was the first time I’d read about those terms” in an academic setting. She found that Staci and other CYFS professors were open to being challenged to include more Latine content. Two students in David’s FRINQ specifically mentioned how much they appreciated hearing Brenda Rodriguez, a former member of the class who eventually became a beloved Peer Mentor, appear as a guest speaker the first day of class. “That first story made me think, whatever I’m dealing with, I can’t complain,” recalls Stenar Narruhn, that “it’s OK to be going through things.” Brenda “was inspirational and motivational.” Anonymous 30 also shared that Brenda’s story “really touched me.” “We have a similar story,” and “she had so much perseverance,” and “I loved her faith.”
Our interviewees reported several methods faculty have used to ensure that a wide range of students feel comfortable contributing to class discussions. Anonymous 15 says that Miranda Mosier-Puentes in CYFS made sure everyone “felt heard” by doing things such as asking them to leave sticky notes at the end of class on what was most impactful about what they had learned. Anonymous 17 cites Professor Chris Allen in Psychology as a professor whose “openness . . . about his [Buddhist] values” and willingness to be vulnerable “helped more people speak up about their traditions.” Kashindi Heragi appreciated how Óscar Fernández used language that “every student will understand,” allowed time for questions, and walked around the room to “sit beside us and ask, are you struggling? . . . . I’m here to help you.”
Remembering Being Seen and Not Seen
In sum, students had a great deal to say about the professors who made them feel seen–or not. The joy and the sadness alike were almost palpable. Those who have graduated are more or less split between people who wish they could have made deep connections with faculty and those who are grateful and happy that they did. And although the capacity to reach out to professors is certainly a skill that can be encouraged and taught, the great majority of our interviewees describe a professor’s attitude as being key to whether or not they felt like they had permission to try.
Most students learned very quickly that PSU can be a very anonymous and interpersonal place, and most seemed to accept that. But they also regretted it, some very deeply, and deeply appreciated faculty who showed that they care for them.
