Tag: Higher

  • Brown University Rejects Trump’s Higher Ed Compact

    Brown University Rejects Trump’s Higher Ed Compact

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    Citing multiple concerns, Brown University on Wednesday rejected an invitation to join the “Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education” that the Trump administration proposed.

    The compact, initially sent to nine institutions, would require universities to make a number of far-reaching changes, including suppressing criticism of conservatives on campus. Of the original nine, Brown is now the second to reject the deal after the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

    The administration has promised preferential treatment on federal funding for those that sign on, though the document itself doesn’t detail those benefits. Higher ed experts and observers have warned against signing, arguing that it threatens institutional independence and give the federal government much more power over universities.

    Following MIT’s rejection, the Trump administration said the compact was open to all colleges. But of the original nine invitees, there are no takers so far, though officials at the University of Texas system have indicated they view the proposal favorably. The system’s flagship in Austin was part of the nine.

    “President Trump is committed to restoring academic excellence and common sense at our higher education institutions,” White House spokesperson Liz Huston said in a statement. “Any university that joins this historic effort will help to positively shape America’s future.”

    Brown president Christina Paxson released her response to federal officials Wednesday, arguing that while Brown agreed with some of the aims of the proposal—such as keeping tuition costs down and maintaining a vibrant exchange of ideas across the ideological spectrum—other issues, including academic freedom concerns, prompted the university to reject the compact.

    She also pointed to the settlement Brown and the Trump administration reached in July to restore more than $500 million in frozen federal research funding amid an investigation into alleged campus antisemitism. She noted that the agreement “reflects similar principles” to the compact. But while the settlement did not wade into campus curriculum or programs, the compact would impose much greater restrictions on academic offerings for signatories.

    “In return for Brown signing the July agreement, the federal government restored the University’s research funding and permanently closed three pending investigations into shared ancestry discrimination and race discrimination. But most important, Brown’s existing agreement with the federal government expressly affirms the government’s lack of authority to dictate our curriculum or the content of academic speech—a principle that is not reflected in the Compact,” Paxson wrote.

    A White House official said that the settlement was aimed at “rectifying past harm and discrimination,” whereas the compact is more “forward looking.”

    Paxson also echoed concerns raised by MIT president Sally Kornbluth—who wrote in her letter to the Education Department that “scientific funding should be based on scientific merit alone”—and other higher ed groups such as the Association of American Universities, of which Brown is a member.

    Paxson wrote, “A fundamental part of academic excellence is awarding research funding on the merits of the research being proposed.”

    ”The cover letter describing the compact contemplates funding research on criteria other than the soundness and likely impact of research, which would ultimately damage the health and prosperity of Americans,” she added. “Our current agreement with the federal government—beyond restoring Brown’s research funding from the National Institutes of Health—affirms the University’s ability to compete fairly for new research grants in the future, a doctrine of fairness and a commitment to excellence that aligns with our values.”

    The Department of Education did not respond to a request for comment.

    Todd Wolfson, president of the American Association of University Professors, celebrated the decision on social media and in a statement, highlighting efforts by Brown employees to push back against the compact, including a campus protest last week that called on administrators to reject the deal.

    Both the national AAUP and Brown’s AAUP chapter have spoken out against the compact, and faculty at other universities along with students have also urged their leaders to reject the compact.

    “By declining to compromise its core mission, Brown University has affirmed that no amount of federal inducement is worth surrendering the freedom to question, explore, and dissent,” Wolfson said in the statement. “In rejecting the Compact, Brown stands as a bulwark for higher education’s sacred commitment to academic freedom and institutional self-governance.”

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  • The Meta-Lessons of College (opinion)

    The Meta-Lessons of College (opinion)

    What we learn in school comes in part, and perhaps the smaller part, through the manifest curriculum. We first learn skills—how to read and write and do arithmetic—and then we begin the long process of learning subject matter. This is what school is intended to impart to us. We are taught, in all manner of visible ways, how to do things and what we ought to know.

    From the start, we learn other things as well: how to follow rules, how organizational hierarchies work and how we can be held accountable for misbehavior. We learn, too, what matters to other members of our tribe—individual achievement, success in competition—and what makes some people more important than others. These are elements of the hidden curriculum, or what might be called the meta-lessons of school.

    By the time students get to college, they have already absorbed many such lessons, or they wouldn’t be here at all. But college offers a new set of meta-lessons. These are lessons about knowledge itself: how to assess it, how to identify its varieties, how it’s created. To miss out on these lessons, as can happen, is to miss out on what is most valuable about a college education.

    The meta-lessons of college come with political implications. As political scientists and others have shown, there is a diploma divide in this country. On one side is the largest and most loyal group of Trump supporters: whites without a college degree. On the other side are those with bachelor’s or advanced degrees, who tend to vote Democratic. Clearly, there is something about a college education that makes a difference in political behavior.

    Some analysts have argued that the divide reflects a feeling on the part of non-college-educated whites of being left behind in a high-tech economy. These feelings of disappointment and failure in turn make this group receptive to racist dog whistlesDEI policies are giving undeserving minorities unfair advantages!—used by right-wing politicians. Others have argued that the divide reflects an indoctrination into liberalism that students experience in college.

    Analyses of the diploma divide have been going on for nearly a decade, since soon after Trump’s first election in 2016. Sorting out this body of work would require a separate essay. Here I am proposing only that the divide owes in part to the meta-lessons of college, in that these lessons should, in theory, make people less susceptible to political hucksterism, emotionally manipulative rhetoric and the embrace of simple nostrums as solutions to complex social problems.

    And so it seems worthwhile for pedagogical and civic reasons to put the meta-lessons of college on the table. I identify seven that strike me as crucial. No doubt others’ lists will vary, as will ideas about how much these lessons matter. Yet it seems to me that these lessons, if taken to heart and applied, are what enable college graduates to sort sense from nonsense, fact from fiction and rational argument from demagoguery. Here, then, are the lessons.

    1. Empirical claims are distinct from moral claims. To say, for example, that the death penalty deters capital crimes is to make an empirical claim. It isn’t a matter of opinion. With the right data, we can determine whether this claim is true or not (it’s not). To say the death penalty is wrong is to make a moral claim that must be addressed philosophically. Students who learn how to make this fundamental distinction are less likely to be distracted by philosophical apples when empirical oranges are the issue. Whether revenge feels like justice, they will understand, has no bearing on its practical consequences.
    2. Evidence must be weighed. Arguments gain credence when supported by evidence, especially when it comes to empirical matters. But the importance of assessing the quantity and quality of supporting evidence is less widely appreciated. To the extent that college students learn how to do this—and acquire the inclination to do it even when an argument or analysis is emotionally appealing—they are less likely to be misled by anecdotes, atypical examples or cherry-picked studies that employ weak methods.
    1. Errors often hide in assumptions. An argument can be persuasive because it sounds good and appears to be backed by evidence. Yet it can still be wrong because it starts from false premises. A key meta-lesson in this regard is that it is important to examine the foundations of an argument for logical or empirical cracks that make it unsound. To always ask, “What does this argument take for granted that might be wrong?” is a valuable habit of mind, a habit nurtured in college classrooms where students are taught, likely at the cost of some discomfort, to interrogate their own beliefs.
    2. Logic matters. Poets might want to express the contradictory multitudes they contain, but those who purport to offer serious political analysis must respect logic, the absence of which ought to be discrediting. If your theory of social attraction says birds of a feather flock together, except when opposites attract, you had better find a higher-order principle that reconciles the contradiction or admit that you’re just making stuff up. The meta-lesson that logic matters, again learned through disciplined skepticism, provides at least partial protection against toxic nonsense.
    3. Truth can be elusive, but it is not an illusion. Truth has taken a beating in recent decades under the influence of postmodernist social theories. Even so, it remains possible, unless we abandon the idea of evidence altogether, to have confidence that some empirical claims are true, in the ordinary sense of the term. Students learn this in their subject-matter courses; they learn that research can turn up real facts, that some empirical claims warrant more confidence than others and that some claims are demonstrably wrong. This meta-lesson can help ward off the nihilism—the paralyzing feeling that it is impossible to know what to believe—that often arises in the face of a blizzard of lies.
    1. Expertise is real. In college, students encounter people who have spent years studying, and possibly creating new knowledge about, some aspect of the natural or social world. These people—scientists, scholars—know more about their subject-matter areas than just about anyone else. The meta-lesson, hopefully one that sticks, is that hard-won expertise exists, and while experts might not always be right, they are more reliable sources of analysis than glib pundits and unctuous politicians.
    2. A slogan is not an analysis. Slogans that are useful as rallying cries often deliver no real understanding. “Defund the police” is as useful a guide to crime prevention as “Guns don’t kill people; people kill people” is to addressing the problem of gun violence. Other examples abound. The important meta-lesson is that a useful, sense-making analysis of a complex problem is likely to be complex in itself—and it would be wise, as college students ought to learn, not to forsake complexity in favor of a catchy sound bite.

    The suggestion that these meta-lessons inoculate college graduates against irrationality and unreason stumbles against the fact that college graduates can still succumb to these maladies. It’s hard to know whether this occurs because the lessons were not learned, or if circumstances make it expedient to forget them. I suspect that when well-educated people—the JD Vances and Josh Hawleys of the world—appear not to have learned these lessons, what we’re seeing is a cynical performance in the service of self-interest. The lessons were indeed learned, I further suspect, but are applied perversely, as when the physician becomes a skilled poisoner.

    Nonetheless, the diploma divide is real; a college education, on average, all else being equal, does seem to make people more resistant to misinformation, comforting myths, evidence-free claims about the world, irrational emotional appeals, illogical arguments and outright lies. This is as it should be; it is higher education having the effects it ought to have, effects that can impede authoritarianism. To be sure, college is not the only place where this kind of critical acumen is acquirable. College is just the place best organized to cultivate it.

    In the end, the issue is not the diploma divide. For educators, the issue should be how to do a better job of transmitting the meta-lessons of college, presuming a shared belief in the value of these lessons for the intellectual and civic benefits they can yield. Spotlighting these elements of the “hidden curriculum” of course means they are not hidden at all, and so when critics insist that our job is to teach students how to think, we can say, “Yes, look here: That is exactly what we’re doing.”

    Michael Schwalbe is professor emeritus of sociology at North Carolina State University.

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  • Supporting Transfer Student Success Through Data

    Supporting Transfer Student Success Through Data

    Transfer students often experience a range of challenges transitioning from a community college to a four-year institution, including credit loss and feeling like they don’t belong on campus.

    At the University of California, Santa Barbara, 30 percent of incoming students are transfers. More than 90 percent of those transfers come from California community colleges and aspire to complete their degree in two years.

    While many have achieved that goal, they often lacked time to explore campus offerings or felt pressured to complete their degree on an expedited timeline, according to institutional data.

    “Students feel pressure to complete in two years for financial reasons and because that is the expectation they receive regarding four-year graduation,” said Linda Adler-Kassner, associate vice chancellor of teaching and learning. Transfer students said they don’t want to “give up” part of their two years on campus to study away, she said.

    Institutional data also revealed that their academic exploration opportunities were limited, with fewer transfers participating in research or student groups, which are identified as high-impact practices.

    As a result, the university created a new initiative to improve transfer student awareness of on-campus opportunities.

    Getting data: UCSB’s institutional research planning and assessment division conducts an annual new student survey, which collects information on students’ demographic details, academic progress and outside participation or responsibilities. The fall 2024 survey revealed that 26 percent of transfers work for pay more than 20 hours per week; an additional 40 percent work between 10 and 20 hours per week. Forty-four percent of respondents indicated they do not participate in clubs or student groups.

    In 2024, the Office of Teaching and Learning conducted a transfer student climate study to “identify specific areas where the transfer student experience could be more effectively supported,” Adler-Kassner said. The OTL at UCSB houses six units focused on advancing equity and effectively supporting learners.

    The study found that while transfers felt welcomed at UCSB, few were engaging in high-impact practices and many had little space in their schedules for academic exploration, “which leads them to feel stress as they work on a quick graduation timeline,” Adler-Kassner said.

    Put into practice: Based on the results, OTL launched various initiatives to make campus stakeholders aware of transfer student needs and create effective interventions to support their success.

    Among the first was the Transfer Connection Project, which surveys incoming transfer students to identify their interests. OTL team members use that data to match students’ interests with campus resources and generate a personalized letter that outlines where the student can get plugged in on campus. In fall 2025, 558 students received a personal resource guide.

    The data also showed that a majority—more than 60 percent—of transfers sought to enroll in four major programs: communications, economics, psychological and brain sciences, and statistics and data science.

    In turn, OTL leaders developed training support for faculty and teaching assistants working in these majors to implement transfer-focused pedagogies. Staff also facilitate meet-and-greet events for transfers to meet department faculty.

    This work builds on the First Generation and Transfer Scholars Welcome, which UCSB has hosted since 2017. The welcome event includes workshops, a research opportunity fair and facilitated networking to get students engaged early.

    The approach is unique because it is broken into various modules that, when combined, create a holistic approach to student support, Adler-Kassner said.

    Gauging impact: Early data shows the interventions have improved student success.

    Since beginning this work, UCSB transfer retention has grown from 87 percent in 2020 to 94 percent in 2023. Similarly, graduation rates increased 10 percentage points from 2020 to 2024. Adler-Kassner noted that while this data may be correlated with the interventions, it does not necessarily demonstrate causation.

    In addition, the Transfer Student Center reaches about 40 percent of the transfer student population each year, and institutional data shows that those who engage with the center have a four-percentage-point higher retention rate and two-point higher graduation rate than those who don’t.

    Do you have an intervention that might help others promote student success? Tell us about it.

    This article has been updated to correct the share of incoming students that are transfers at UCSB.

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  • Scooping Up Adulting and the Benefits of Being Curious – Teaching in Higher Ed

    Scooping Up Adulting and the Benefits of Being Curious – Teaching in Higher Ed

    My first year or two after graduating from college, I kept wanting there to be some instruction book that would teach you how to do all the lessons you somehow had missed in life thus far that it seemed like people should know. Today, young people would refer to this body of knowledge and skills as “adulting,” I think. I’m still wishing I had the magical powers that I witness only on the internet of those people who are able to meal plan effectively and sustainably (as in do it week in and week out). I’ll do it like once and then be so exhausted by the process that I won’t try again until like three years later.

    It still amuses me how this yet-to-be-discovered curriculum evades me. When you think you have something figured out, change emerges, and you’re right back in a liminal space. Jarche writes:

    The Cynefin framework can help us connect work and learning, especially for emergent and novel practices, for which we do not have good or best practices known in advance.

    Speaking of instructions: Will I ever live to see the day when I don’t need to look up the pronunciation of Cynefin each time I run across it, yet again? I’ve been in the field of learning my whole life, though started getting paid for it at the age of 14 and a half, when I first started working and was quickly asked to train other people how to scoop ice cream, decorate cakes, clean the store, and so on at the local Baskin Robbins. It wasn’t that complicated. Sweeping the floors looked the same day-to-day, Even when someone requested a new cake design, it was essentially tracing on plastic wrap and didn’t require new ways of thinking.

    Instead of step-by-step actions, many of the challenges I navigate today at work are complex. I was once selected to be the scholar in residence for the University of Michigan Dearborn specifically because I wasn’t an “expert” (nor did I claim to be one). The role was to explore artificial intelligence in higher education. The team who hired me said it was specifically my curiosity that was what made them think I would be an effective person to help them explore the various perspectives people hold without acting as if there was some easy way to step-by-step figure out exactly what needed to happen.

    Jarche writes:

    In a crisis it is important to act but even more important to learn as we take action.

    This “as we are going” learning is only possible with intentionality. It’s otherwise all to easy to succumb to the tyranny of the urgent and neglect the humility required to continuously learn from what is emerging. We are invited to think of an example of each of the following, which I will attempt to do:

    1. formal community – at my work, we have our Academic Leadership Council (ALC)
    2. informal community – a group of friends have a text chat, where we share each others joys and sorrows, as well as recommend podcasts, articles, tv shows, books, and so on with each other
    3. open knowledge network – I’m thinking about communities that arise from clever (intentional) hashtag use, such as ones related to the disability movement, or Black lives matter, etc.
    4. formal knowledge hub – so many universities have resources to share with faculty related to teaching + learning, like the University of Virginia Teaching Hub

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  • Engaging with Intentionality and Curiosity – Teaching in Higher Ed

    Engaging with Intentionality and Curiosity – Teaching in Higher Ed

    Thus begins week two of Harold Jarche’s Personal Knowledge Mastery workshop. This week’s schedule already feels overly crowded, when my brain may best begin to be described as “fuzzy”… Hardly an opportunity for much sense-making. Still, I noted something as I considered some of the ways that Jarche says are the practices that PKM is built upon. He gives the following examples:

    – narrating our work
    – adding value before sharing information
    – helping make our networks smarter and more resilient
    – network weaving and closing triangles
    – seeking diverse perspectives
    – sharing half-baked ideas

    I instantly thought of the tension between wanting to “add value before sharing information” and “sharing half-baked ideas”. I’ve almost always found incredible things happening in those times when I feel most vulnerable in sharing the unfinished work, while simultaneously wanting the exchange to be worth someone’s time/attention.

    My favorite LinkedIn thread of all time (as least as of October 13, 2025) started with me saying that I had needed to get these custom card decks printed before creating the game structure that they would be played on. As in I needed to create a game after having ordered the cards that the game would be made up of… It was then in my sense-making (and writing on LinkedIn) that I realized I wasn’t even sure that I knew what a game was. And then, the beauty of the waterfall of goodness that commenced was amazing.

    Harold suggested we look at who he follows on Mastodon, as we reflect on what our purpose and aims might be there. I noticed:

    1. More than a handful of computer programers. While not a programmer, myself, I do enjoy learning from geeky people.
    2. Primarily individuals and not as many organizations or group entities
    3. Many use what appear to be their “real” names
    4. A few have “request to follow” and I’m wondering what the etiquette is with that.
    5. Found a number of people I recognized from elsewhere, but hadn’t yet “found” on Mastodon
    6. Lots of varieties in profile picture approaches. Some regular photos; others more sketch-drawings; others not people at all)
    7. I try not to be about the numbers, but it depresses me to have gone from 8k on Twitter to 259 on Mastodon. Yes, I know it is quality, not quantity. Still… I won’t try to pretend it doesn’t bum me out a bit.
    8. Lots of personality comes out on these profiles… sense of humor… believe in something that matters to them… good trouble…
    9. Lots of environmental people/professions, which reminds me of a post Harold wrote about wanting differing opinions, but not “both-sides-isms”… I just looked to see if I could find this post in my bookmarks and have come up empty. It’s a bummer, too, because he wanted to hear from people who generally agreed with the 97% of the world’s scientists who agree that climate change is occurring and is an issue, but to hear from people who think differently about what to then do about it.
    10. Wait. Robin DeRosa is actively posting on Mastodon. My goodness, have I missed her on social media.

     

     

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  • NACIQI Meeting Delayed by Government Shutdown

    NACIQI Meeting Delayed by Government Shutdown

    The Department of Education has delayed the semiannual convening of its accreditation advisory committee for the second time this year, according to an email sent to committee members and obtained by Inside Higher Ed.

    The meeting of the National Advisory Committee on Institutional Quality and Integrity, originally slated to take place in July, had already been pushed back to Oct. 21. Now, as a result of the government shutdown, it’s been rescheduled for Dec. 16.

    “As many of you know, most department staff, including those supporting NACIQI, have been furloughed and the Department has suspended operations except for specific excepted activities,” Jeffrey Andrade, deputy assistant secretary for policy, planning and innovation, wrote in the email. “The Department will be publishing a notice in the Federal Register shortly announcing this change of meeting date.”

    Inside Higher Ed reached out to the department for direct comment on the delay but did not get a response prior to publication.

    The meeting was slated to include Under Secretary Nicholas Kent’s first comments on accreditation since he took office, as well as compliance reports from five different accreditors. Three of those agencies are institutional: the Middle States Commission on Higher Education, the New England Commission of Higher Education, and the Western Association of Schools and Colleges Senior College and University Commission. The other two are programmatic: the Accreditation Commission for Midwifery Education and the Commission on Accreditation in Physical Therapy.

    And while it wasn’t formally listed on the committee’s agenda, this meeting also likely would have served as the unveiling of six new Trump-appointed committee members.

    When department officials announced the first delay in July, observers noted that by the time the rescheduled meeting took place, the terms of six of the committee’s 18 members would be over. With key decisions about the future of higher education accreditation looming, many policy experts took this as a sign that the Trump administration was trying to stack the panel in its favor.

    Now, the new appointees will likely go unnamed for another two months, and the compliance reports will remain unchecked until the next meeting. And though neither of these agenda items is quite as high-stakes as a recognition review—the process by which independent accrediting agencies are granted the power to gate-keep federal student aid—one expert feared it could lead to a backlog in future evaluations.

    “While [the accreditation agencies] are coming up before NACIQI on this compliance report, they are also likely in the process of having their regular recognition reviewed again,” said Antoinette Flores, the director of higher education accountability and quality at New America, a left-leaning think tank. “So it adds to the burden and could lead to compounding issues.”

    Flores, who served in the same role as Andrade during the Biden administration, is worried that the delay could not only slow down future reviews but also hamper current ones, putting certain agencies and the institutions they serve at risk. When an agency is placed under compliance review, it has 12 months to fix the problem and prove it is meeting the committee’s criteria, she explained. So, if it hasn’t proven it’s meeting those criteria within that period, technically the agency’s authorization could be at stake.

    Flores said she’s particularly worried for Middle States Commission and the New England Commission, because they each received letters from the Trump administration earlier this year pressuring them to take action against member institutions’ alleged noncompliance with civil rights laws. Neither accreditor has done so, and they won’t be able to present their compliance reports before the 12-month deadline.

    “So is the agency in compliance? Is its recognition going to continue? … That’s kind of the underlying question,” Flores said.

    Others are far less concerned.

    Kyle Beltramini, a policy research fellow at the American Council of Trustees and Alumni, a right-leaning policy organization, said that to his knowledge there’s never been a time when NACIQI failed to meet and review an agency’s compliance or recognition before the deadline.

    So while it remains unclear what would happen if the meeting never took place or the agencies were unable to present their compliance reports before deadline, Beltramini believes that any consequences of the delay will be minimal.

    “I don’t think what we’re going to see is the nuclear option of an accreditor losing their authorization,” he said. “It’s partially because of the fact that even if that’s what the administration wanted to do—which I don’t think that that’s the case—they just don’t have the full majority on the committee.” (Although, technically, the under secretary and secretary of education do not have to follow the committee’s guidance.)

    Either way, if and when the meeting occurs, Beltramini anticipates that it will set the tone for how the Trump administration plans to approach accreditation moving forward.

    “There is a broad and bipartisan agreement that there needs to be change to the system, and what you’re going to see, more and more often, is NACIQI attempting to hold the accreditors accountable by asking them questions and getting them on the record in ways that may make them uncomfortable,” he said.

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  • 4 Ways to Better Grade Team Projects (opinion)

    4 Ways to Better Grade Team Projects (opinion)

    Some professors resist using teamwork in their classes because they mistakenly believe that team projects are too difficult to grade. One issue is that, as educators, we often only evaluate the team presentation, project or paper with a grade based on how well the team has met our learning objectives.

    However, a single project evaluation at the end allows some members to potentially free ride on harder-working teammates, or enables one aggressive or dominating member to take over the entire project to ensure the team gets an A. If we simply grade team projects at the end, it is too late for our student teams to adapt or adjust and learn how to be better at working in teams, a key skill that employers look for in our graduates.

    The key to effectively grading teamwork is to set up the grading process systematically at the start of the project. In this article, we offer four ways that you can grade team projects effectively to meet your learning objectives and help students become better team members.

    1. Share your grading rubric at the start of the assignment. Students need to know at the outset of the team project how they will be graded. Many good students tell us they hate team projects because they know they will have to deal with “social loafers” who rely on one or two others to do the work. However, by sharing a rubric that highlights the expectations for each team member and how you will be combining individual and team grading, you can help students make more intentional decisions regarding how they distribute the assignment’s requirements. We not only distribute the rubric at the start of the project, but we post it on our course management system and frequently review it with the class so our expectations are clear.
    2. Include peer evaluation as a part of the evaluation process. Students are sometimes asked to rate their fellow team members, but they are seldom taught how to do it well. As a result, they tend to only give positive feedback to avoid conflict or hurting another student’s feelings. Teaching peer feedback takes only a little class time, as few as 15 minutes. It starts with clarifying your expectations about how you will use peer feedback. You can use or create a form that allows students to provide quantitative and qualitative feedback, and then you should use this same form multiple times during the project. The first time you collect peer feedback should be a low-stakes or practice situation early during the project so that students have a psychologically safe opportunity to learn how to use it. Your students should begin with self-evaluation and then evaluate their peers.
      Next, you need to summarize the peer feedback and give results to individual students so they know how they are doing. Finally, have groups reflect on how well the group is doing without naming or shaming others. There are times when students will have to give feedback to a person who is free riding or loafing. When they do, make sure they know to first ask that person for permission before they give feedback, then praise in public, and finally provide any negative feedback in private. Finally, we have a YouTube video that instructors can show during class to help students learn about how to give and receive feedback.
    1. Incorporate ongoing feedback from the instructor. We know of faculty who give out a team assignment and never mention it again until the week before the project is due. This is setting up the student teams for failure. Faculty need to check in frequently with their teams to be sure they are making progress on their work and any questions or concerns are answered. Taking just five minutes at the end of class for teams to meet can pay great dividends in a better project product. This instructor feedback can include a way to hold individual team members accountable for the work they are doing. For example, we have set up a separate Google folder for each team with instructor access. Each team member needed to post their contributions to the team project weekly. In this way, we could keep an eye on any social loafers, and provide feedback to those who were working independently instead of with the team. Instructors can also schedule a brief time to sit in on team meetings so that they get a more comprehensive update about the project and who is working toward each of the outcomes.
    2. Carefully consider the weight you give to each phase of the project. It is essential to incorporate peer assessments and the instructor evaluation about how well the project met the learning objectives into any final grade; both are important. However, the weight of these different evaluations tells students the importance of each. More weight on the individual peer assessments stresses the individual work, while more weight on the instructor grade of the project shows the team efforts are more important. At a minimum, use the 80/20 rule: At least 20 percent of the student’s grade should be based on each.
      Also, be sure to check the peer evaluations to verify that they result from real behaviors rather than personal biases. We accomplish this by looking for consistency across the times of evaluation, across team members and between peer and self-evaluations. In most cases, we find that the evaluations show consistency in all three areas (though self-evaluations are often inflated). In the rare cases when they don’t align, we always refer to supporting documentation, such as agendas, meeting minutes and information that resulted from our ongoing check-ins to help make sense of the reasons underlying any inconsistencies.

    Grading a team project may seem like a daunting challenge, but grading is by no means a reason to avoid giving students the experience of working with a team. By following these four principles for evaluating teamwork, instructors can account for the team’s achievement of the learning objectives as well as provide students with valuable teamwork experiences that they can take to future classes, internships, co-ops and employment.

    Lauren Vicker is a communications professor emeritus, and Tim Franz is a professor of psychology, both at St. John Fisher University. They are the authors of Making Team Projects Work: A College Instructor’s Guide to Successful Student Groupwork (Taylor & Francis, 2024).

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  • IVF and the Leadership Gap for Women (opinion)

    IVF and the Leadership Gap for Women (opinion)

    After a 20-year career in higher education, including roles as a chief academic officer and faculty member, I left to have a child. I was one step away from a presidency on the higher ed career ladder, and in fact I had written my dissertation on what gets in the way of women moving into college presidencies. Yet it was not until I finally met my life partner and had the opportunity, in my 40s, to start a family that I understood how fully the higher ed career deck is still stacked against those seeking to have children, and especially those seeking to have children in nontraditional ways—largely women, LGBTQIA+ folks and anyone facing a difficult pregnancy, in vitro fertilization, adoption or fostering process.

    In the United States, 2.6 percent of all births—95,860 babies in 2023—result from IVF, a time-consuming, costly and physically and emotionally challenging process. The percentage for women academics may be even higher, given their relatively high education levels, socioeconomic status and pressure to delay childbearing for academic careers. According to Pew, 56 percent of people with graduate degrees have gone through or know someone who has undergone IVF or other assisted reproduction.

    The literature has well documented how the academy has been created by men and is designed to fit their needs and their bodies. Women who have sought professorships or academic leadership positions have, historically, needed to conform to rules written for men’s life cycles. Articles such as Carmen Armenti’s classic “May Babies and Posttenure Babies” speak to women’s attempts to give birth at the end of the academic year and after earning tenure. The tenure clock illustrates this issue well—the usual seven years in which a newly hired assistant professor has time to sufficiently publish and obtain tenure largely coincide with women’s most fertile years. Many forward-thinking institutions such as the University of California system have been addressing this issue by stopping the tenure clock for childbirth and related family formation. It is a step in the right direction that all colleges and universities should consider.

    But what happens when the usual challenges of pregnancy and childbirth are compounded by infertility, miscarriage and the sometimes years-long process of IVF?

    I met my husband during the pandemic, and we married the next year. Both of us in our 40s and having always wanted a child but neither having met the right partner, we quickly found ourselves going down the IVF route. At the time, I had completed a one-year executive interim role and was on the job hunt and doing part-time remote teaching, and this situation proved fortuitous.

    I had no idea how grueling the IVF process would be—multiple rounds of more than a month at a time of hormone pills; nightly self-administered injections for weeks on end; weekly doctor visits, blood draws and ultrasounds—and at the end of each round, a day surgery under anesthesia to retrieve eggs. Several iterations of this, followed by more of a similar process to prepare the body for embryo transfer. The journey is physically and emotionally exhausting, time-consuming, and logistically challenging. It can also be incredibly expensive, with the medications and surgeries costing into the tens of thousands for those whose health insurance does not cover it.

    My husband and I had a number of factors helping us on this journey. We had built a supportive network of family and friends. We were fortunate that I was less sick than many women are on these medications. Finally, we were privileged to have insurance (through my husband’s job, which is not in higher ed) that paid for the majority of our treatments. Due to working part-time and remotely, I had the flexibility I needed to take naps, wear comfortable clothes that fit my bloated belly without having to reveal my family-forming status to anyone at work and generally have the privacy I needed during a challenging time.

    Other women who work full-time in-person during this process navigate a daunting gauntlet of frequent doctor appointments, exhaustion and sickness at work, while trying to hide a body that can look pregnant before it is. Not to mention that few people fully understand the process, and telling a little can lead you down an uncomfortable path of revealing a lot. Because everything is timed to the menstrual cycle, seemingly innocent questions inevitably lead to awkward conversations. It’s therefore hard to share what you’re going through or ask for support at work at the time you need it most.

    And then there are the chemical pregnancies and miscarriages that can happen, and did for us. Grieving for both parents is exacerbated by the isolation and privacy of the whole process. Some companies and higher ed institutions, such as Tufts University in Massachusetts, now offer bereavement leave for miscarriage, something that happens in 10 to 20 percent of pregnancies but is still rarely talked about. All institutions throughout higher ed should offer similar leave.

    During this journey, I was also interviewing for full-time jobs, and I was hired into a senior leadership position. My husband and I were taking a break from the exhausting process at that point and the opportunity was once-in-a-lifetime, and so we picked up and moved two states away. My husband’s job had gone remote, giving us the flexibility we needed for my career. We wagered that if I stayed in a part-time role too much longer, it would be increasingly difficult to climb back into a full-time position. The stigma around a résumé gap is alive and well in higher education, with little understanding that this gap often reflects people’s (frequently women’s) time away for family and other care-taking needs, rather than their work experience or abilities. Yet, even when I’ve tried to explain to search committees that I’ve led how discriminatory it can be to overly focus on résumé gaps, faculty and staff often have looked askance at me. This is something else that needs to change.

    My husband and I waited almost a year before doing our next embryo transfer. I settled into the job, we settled into our home, we finally had a post-COVID celebration of our marriage. And then I was pregnant! Sadly, I miscarried again toward the end of my first trimester. I powered through at work, serving as a chief academic officer and supervising 200 people while trying to juggle meds, doctor’s appointments, exhaustion and then loss. I read students’ names at a stadium-sized graduation ceremony soon after a miscarriage.

    It became clear to me over the following months that the stress and lack of flexibility of a senior role would not lend itself to a last chance at a healthy pregnancy. It was a difficult decision to leave, but also one that I had no doubts about once made. Within weeks we were pregnant again, this time successfully so with a beautiful baby girl who is now a year old. It was not an easy pregnancy, and our daughter likely would not be here had I stayed in my role and not been able to rest as much as I did.

    Since her birth, I have launched a higher ed editing and consulting business, resumed teaching part-time, and otherwise adjusted to life as a new mother. For me, leaving higher ed senior leadership was a deliberate choice. I needed more flexibility and control over my own time to be able to care for myself and my child properly. I may or may not return someday to that leadership pathway, and that door may or may not be open to me if I attempt to do so. I’ve learned, however, that to address the question my dissertation asked—Why don’t we have more women in presidencies?—we need to better understand and respond to the many women (and many men and nonbinary folks) who find themselves going through similar family-formation challenges across higher education.

    • First, we need to offer more flexibility—remote work, flexible hours, the option for extended parental leaves for new parents and foster parents.
    • Second, we need to consider not only fully paid leave under the Family and Medical Leave Act for childbirth and parental bonding, but also paid medical benefits for IVF as well as similar support for adoption and fostering.
    • Third, we need to formalize bereavement leave for miscarriage.
    • Fourth, we need to destigmatize the career gap, so that those who leave would have the opportunity to return.
    • Fifth, we need to fairly compensate those who assume the work of colleagues who take FMLA for any care-taking reason.
    • Lastly, we need to change the higher ed culture to one that understands and supports family formation in all its iterations, not just traditional pregnancy with traditional medical leaves.

    I recognize my privilege in being able to leave my job—privilege that enabled me to have a child when so many before me without the same economic resources have not been able to. My situation may seem like an outlier to those who are in their 20s or early 30s or who have had relatively easy and healthy pregnancies. But I’m sure that my story rings true for those who have delayed childbearing for their academic careers and then faced the rigors of IVF, or for people of any age who have faced infertility or more difficult pregnancies. For those LGBTQIA+ and other folks who go through the egg/sperm donation process and IVF and surrogacy. For couples and singles who may adopt or foster and face needs for legal meetings and other child-related time off that institutions do not always provide.

    Higher ed has taught me so much about antiracism, feminism, LGBTQIA+ rights and other inclusive practices. However, higher ed writ large doesn’t offer the kinds of paid leave and flexibility needed for all employees to succeed at both parenting and work.

    Higher ed is losing women with executive leadership potential. The majority of undergraduate and graduate students are women. Yet only 37 percent of full-time faculty are women. Only 33 percent of college presidents are women. Women melt away for a host of reasons. But this former chief academic officer, one step away from a presidency on the career ladder, left the executive pathway because it was the only way I could do so and have a healthy pregnancy and a healthy child.

    As long as higher ed makes having a child versus having an academic career a zero-sum choice for many women, it shouldn’t be a surprise that we still have so few women in senior leadership. When the answer becomes “yes, have both” at institutions across the board is when we might start to see the numbers change.

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  • CSU Campuses Reel From Blow to HSI Funding

    CSU Campuses Reel From Blow to HSI Funding

    California State University, Fresno, celebrated the launch of a new program this fall called Finish in Five, which allows students to earn both a bachelor’s and master’s degree within five years. University leaders were eager to offer students at the Central Valley campus—which serves large populations of first-generation and low-income students, many the children of local farmworkers—a streamlined pathway to high-demand STEM fields in an economically distressed region.

    But less than a month later, the program’s funding, which came from a Hispanic-serving institution grant, abruptly ended. The Education Department stopped awarding grants for HSIs and many other minority-serving institutions last month, claiming the federal programs amounted to “discrimination.” Officials argued the programs are “unconstitutional” because they require institutions to enroll certain percentages of students from specific racial or ethnic backgrounds, among other criteria.

    Saúl Jiménez-Sandoval, president of Fresno State, said he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to the Finish in Five program now that the money is gone. In the past, the campus relied on about $5 million annually in HSI funding, which fueled a wide range of student supports and programs. The university was also expecting to receive $250,000 this fiscal year as an Asian American and Native American Pacific Islander–serving institution.

    “In the grander scheme of things, most of the innovative programs that we have at Fresno State that further student success and graduation rates started with an HSI grant or with an MSI grant,” Jiménez-Sandoval said.

    Similar stories are playing out across the California State University system. Hispanic students account for almost half of the system’s more than 450,000 students. Out of the CSU’s 22 campuses, 21 are Hispanic-serving institutions, meaning they enroll at least 25 percent Hispanic students and at least half low-income students. In addition, 11 are AANAPISIs, which have the same low-income student threshold and enroll at least 10 percent Asian and Pacific Islander students. CSU officials estimate ED’s axing of the grant programs leaves the system $43 million short on funds it expected for the 2025–26 fiscal year.

    CSU chancellor Mildred García called the move “deeply troubling.”

    “This action will have an immediate impact and irreparable harm to our entire community,” García said in a statement. “Without this funding, students will lose the critical support they need to succeed in the classroom, complete their degrees on time, and achieve social mobility for themselves and their families.”

    Potential for ‘Great Devastation’

    The sudden loss of funding caught system and campus leaders off guard.

    Jeff Cullen, CSU’s assistant vice chancellor for federal relations, said he knew the HSI program was at risk when the state of Tennessee and the advocacy group Students for Fair Admissions sued the Education Department in June over such programs, questioning their constitutionality. But he expected the case to wind its way through the courts. He said ED’s swift decision to end the grant programs robbed campuses of time to prepare or fight on MSIs’ behalf. Cullen also pointed out that CSU campuses qualify as HSIs because of the demographics of their surrounding communities—not because they rely on affirmative action in admissions, one of the issues raised in the lawsuit; California banned affirmative action in 1996.

    “Canceling grants midcycle and right in the middle of the semester creates unprecedented confusion and chaos,” Cullen said. “Our central goal is student success and getting students across the stage with a degree in hand. And this just continually undermines those efforts to do that.”

    Meanwhile, CSU has no way to make up for the full extent of the funding losses, said Dilcie Perez, the system’s deputy vice chancellor of academic and student affairs. She called the abrupt end of MSI grants a “triple blow” at a time when the system’s campuses are already facing a $144 million cut in state support. The system also has only $760 million in reserves, a meager emergency fund compared to the endowments of wealthier institutions. She expects campus leaders will have to make painful choices, including cutting faculty and staff positions, to make the numbers work.

    “I think the reality is we don’t know the magnitude yet,” Perez said, “but what we know is … we have folks who have lost positions, we have students who have lost support services, and that is not OK. What I know to be true is that no one campus can completely replace any of the funding that they lost.”

    Jiménez-Sandoval, of Fresno State, said because of state-level cuts, he’s had to scrape together funds for “the basics,” leaving the university to rely on HSI funding to afford efforts to boost retention and graduation rates. More than 60 percent of Fresno State’s students are Latino, and about 65 percent qualify for Pell Grants and are the first in their families to attend college; many of them “need an extra little push in order to support them through their college career,” he said.

    Despite some success with fundraising, he doesn’t believe philanthropy will ever make up for the missing funds.

    The HSI program “is systemic and comprehensive in its support, and likewise, it is systemic and comprehensive in the tragic hit that we are taking right now,” he said.

    Ronald S. Rochon, president of California State University, Fullerton, said he’s reaching out to alumni, donors and industry leaders in the hopes of keeping programs previously supported by HSI funding alive.

    The end of HSI grants cost the campus at least $4.2 million, he said, endangering a range of student services. For example, money evaporated for the university’s Establishing Roots to Grow STEMs program, which offers peer mentoring and other supports to math and science majors, as well as the Fullerton ASPIRE program, which aims to improve graduation and retention rates for underserved students, including first-generation and community college transfer students.

    Rochon plans to “fight hard” to preserve such programs. He emphasized that the university’s student success goals aren’t going to change, despite the losses. But he also pleaded with policymakers to “reconsider.”

    While 54 percent of CSUF’s more than 45,000 students are Hispanic, “this is not just impacting students who identify as Hispanic,” Rochon stressed. “This impacts our entire campus community.” Some of these losses risk bringing “great devastation to our student body.”

    Perez worries that the full effects of the funding losses on CSU students won’t be clear for years. She expects the sudden end of MSI funding will get in the way of the system’s long-term goals for students, including increasing graduation rates.

    “More likely than not, there will be students who are not able to hit the finish line in the same time frame as they would have with this support and with this funding,” Perez said. CSU leaders are scrambling to figure out “how do we mitigate that as much as possible, because we’re not OK with students not crossing the finish line.”

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  • The higher education sector needs an honest broker to support structural change

    The higher education sector needs an honest broker to support structural change

    Of all the current headwinds faced by the higher education sector, one of the most challenging is a lack of expertise and experience in the area of structural change.

    In an environment where radical collaboration and merger are increasingly seen – rightly or wrongly – as a solution to the sector’s financial challenges, the expertise needed to broker and execute a successful merger or other collaboration seems to be patchy.

    As, arguably, are the somewhat different competences required to steward the longer term strategic integration of two or more distinct institutions, each with their own teaching and research portfolios and cultures. The answer to the question “who has done this before?” can only be answered in the affirmative by a handful of people.

    This issue was acknowledged in Mills & Reeve’s joint report with Wonkhe Connect More with the following insight from a one of the heads of institution we interviewed:

    We all have a skills matrix for boards and for courts and for councils. I think, increasingly, that needs to reflect people who’ve got some expertise and some background in this space…I don’t think there are many vice chancellors who would necessarily have the skills, the knowledge, and the background. Really, this is new territory, potentially, for us, it’s new turf.

    Of course, it wasn’t always thus. One of the ironies of the current dearth of experience is that large numbers of providers are themselves the product of historic mergers and collaborations. Taking the long view, the history of many providers is a complex genealogy, a narrative of mergers past and more recent.

    In part, the steady decline in institutional experience of these things was the natural result of a relatively benign financial environment. It’s easy to forget in the current climate but the period of low inflation and cheap borrowing meant that, at an institutional level, there was little impetus to challenge the operating model and, of course, the introduction of a marketised funding model meant that competition, rather than collaboration, was very much the order of the day.

    That marketised model was also accompanied by a marked shift in approach from the regulator. While HEFCE adopted a relatively low-key approach to mergers and collaboration – generally leaving the impetus to come together to institutions themselves – it did publish guidance on mergers and had a collaboration and restructuring fund to assist institutions to explore and implement structural change.

    Crucially, HEFCE was widely accepted to be a neutral broker who would help facilitate institutions coming together – and it had the funding to help smooth the path. By contrast, OfS, in its response to a question from the House of Lords Industry and Regulators Committee, made it clear that it does not consider itself to have “the remit, powers or funding to intervene to prevent closure or to facilitate mergers or acquisitions.”

    Skills gap

    Where, then, does that leave providers? Typically, there is a reliance on the institution’s executive team, in particular, the vice chancellor, to steer the merger. But most higher education executives are not from the business world with experience in mergers and to a significant degree they have a conflict of interest. There is also a need to continue with their day jobs and manage business as usual in case the merger doesn’t happen.

    The next most obvious port of call is to look for expertise among their own governing bodies, and, specifically, their external members. After all, one of the main motivations of having lay external members is to draw upon their expertise and to fill gaps which (understandably enough) exist within the skill sets of senior management teams and the institution more widely.

    The problem, however, is that merger and radical collaboration require a very particular set of skills. It’s very easy for universities to get starry-eyed about a governor just because they happen to be an investment banker, an accountant, or have experience of public sector mergers in the NHS, for example. But the skills required in a university merger or a complex debt restructuring are very specific and even a governing body which is well-stocked with members from across different professional services and backgrounds cannot assume that its trustees have the requisite expertise to drive forward a merger of two institutions.

    Of course, an institution can buy in a certain level of expertise. But what perhaps can’t always be replicated by professional advice are the experience and war stories of those who have lived and breathed mergers and collaborations from the inside – particularly from the education and adjacent sectors. In Mills & Reeve’s joint report with KPMG UK – Radical collaboration: a playbook – we drew out some of those lived experiences in the form of case studies. However, written case studies need to be seasoned with real-life personal experience. What is really needed when scoping a potential merger or other kind of radical collaboration is access to a “hive mind” of critical friends.

    An HE Commissioner model

    Other sectors have taken a strategic approach to developing this expertise. The Further Education Commissioner is the most obvious parallel. Between 2015 and 2019 the FE sector saw 57 mergers, three federations, three joint FE and HE institutions and 23 academy conversions. If most of UK higher education no longer has institutional memory of mergers, FE has it in bucket loads.

    The FE Commissioner and their team offer a range of services to FE colleges – ranging from informal chats and financial health checks, through to more formal invention assessments. Their team – a mix of former leaders and finance professionals from within the sector – have genuinely seen and done it all before. Higher education deserves the same deep pool of knowledge to draw on, especially if the worst case scenario of institutional insolvency and/or disorderly market exit is to be avoided.

    For this to work successfully in HE there would need to be some level of funding and a decision as to whether a commissioner’s role might sit within DfE or OfS. Our sense – particularly given the size and complexity of universities and the involvement of key stakeholders such as banks and private placement bondholders – is that there will still be a large role played by private sector consultants, lawyers, and accountants. However, there is room for a more collegiate level of engagement from DfE and OfS than arguably exists at present.

    As well as pooling expertise on how to collaborate, placing an HE commissioner role on a formal footing might also allow it to broker conversations between providers seeking to work together more closely – something which, in our experience, is done very hesitantly at present, both because of the fear of breaching competition rules and, more generally, because every potential collaboration partner is, in a very real sense, also a competitor.

    What can’t be underestimated is how urgently this function is needed. Providers are capable of doing this alone, as recent examples such as the Anglia Ruskin/Writtle and St George’s/City mergers testify. However, how much better for the long-term future of the sector it would surely be if providers had ready access to some critical friends and some “protected” spaces to have conversations about how best to achieve and implement forms of radical collaboration.

    This article is published in association with Mills & Reeve. 

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