Editors’ Introduction

Hollis Glaser, Speech, Communications, and Theater Arts
Holly Messitt, English

Welcome back to academic year 2025/2026. We’re halfway through the decade, and I’m thinking about how our decade began with a pandemic and about how now, mid-decade, we find ourselves a world changed by the isolation of the pandemic, as well as rapidly changing technology and socio-political world order. What is the saying: may we not live in interesting times? We live in interesting times. Perhaps press the pause button for a moment and spend some time listening intimately to your colleagues. Sit with this new issue of the Inquirer, where we get to hear from our peers about their experiences and insights.

We begin this issue with a voice we don’t often hear in these pages, a student’s voice, one from our newest instructional site, Otisville Correctional Facility. Tony Acevedo jumped at the chance to take BMCC/John Jay classes when they began being offered at Otisville. As you will read, there were many barriers against his success, but listening to his voice, we, the editors, were humbled by the challenges Tony speaks about in his piece, but also we were reminded of what is best about the spirit generated in a classroom. He talks of the “fellowship” that formed within the classroom, writing, “When we started to gather, we saw each other differently: listening to other men’s stories and passions, I started to realize that I am not alone, that there are men just as hungry, or hungrier, than I am to learn, to have their worlds blown, and to show that they are capable.”

Tony’s story feeds into this issue’s contribution from Hardaye (Sherie) Hansen and Michael McGee, who over the last few issues have given us multiple thoughtful overviews of what is happening for our students. In this issue, they focus on the ways many students struggle with imposter syndrome: how that might show up in our classes and ways that we can proactively mitigate against it through fostering a sense of connection, validation, and support both within the classroom and within the college-at-large. They advise us, “When students realize they are not alone in their struggles, the power of imposter syndrome begins to wane.”

Brian Lorio and Virginiya DiDonato, together with Lisa Haas, Christopher Moss and Vincent Cheng, write about one activity within the College that has brought students together and made them feel part of something larger: Storytelling Lives at PAC, a six-week workshop in collaboration with the Speech, Theater, and Communication Arts department and The Moth. The program works in conjunction with honors classes, walk-in hours, and Open Mics, supporting students’ storytelling skills, but perhaps more importantly, letting them know their stories matter:

Some students arrive at our department’s walk-in hours convinced they have no story to tell, only to leave amazed by the stories they discover within themselves. Other students seek an outlet for expression, and with a bit of support they gain the confidence to embrace storytelling as their art form. Most inspiring are the students who begin with seemingly ‘mundane’ or ‘unworthy’ stories. Through our collaborative weekly work—inquiries, experiments, and detailed explorations of the experience—they uncover layers of wisdom and unique perspectives hidden within their narratives.

Kelly Rodgers rounds out this first section of the issue with her reflection on ways to support students and let them know you are on their side. Kelly argues that many of us downplay the realities our students of color face when we are too tolerant with them over late work or work handed in poorly done. As opposed to instructors who believe they are supporting students by being lenient with deadlines, Kelly argues that we need to reflect on our own pedagogy and organization. We are being more supportive, she argues, when we scaffold difficult assignments, space out assignment, allow for rewrites, and allow for flexibility with deadlines such as handing the assignment in later in the evening or over the weekend. When we sit in the discomfort of the disparity between our own lives as instructors and the lives of our students of color, we are seeing the wholeness of our students’ lives. As Kelly argues, “At the end of the day, students need to know—and faculty need to be comfortable admitting to themselves—that the students in front of them face a different reality when they leave our walls than they do. That is just the truth of the situation. You have to be willing to be uncomfortable enough to accept that and then use some of it to guide what you do in the classroom.”

The second half of our issue turns toward the ways that faculty can feed their own needs so that we can be full enough to be there for our students. We begin with a piece by the Academic Freedom Committee of the Academic Senate: Hollis Glaser, Joshua Belknap, Tudor Protopopescu, and Brett Whysel. Academic Freedom is far-reaching. It includes not only our right to have jurisdiction over what we teach in the classroom, but, as the authors explain, it includes our right to speech outside the classroom, as well as whom we choose to hire and our right to shared governance. The authors encourage all of us to understand the reach of academic freedom, to use it, teach it, and defend it. They write, “Freedoms like these bring with them responsibilities to protect and nurture them. By having a clear sense of academic freedom, detailed plans for exercising them, and advocating for others using them, we meet these responsibilities, strengthen our country and its institutions, and better serve our students.”

In our next piece, by Elizabeth (Betsy) Wissinger, we look at ways that academic freedom gives us space to think and write. During a sabbatical, and specifically a year-long sabbatical, we have the time to let our thoughts and curiosities take us where they will. We have time set up and prepare guest lectures, to talk to experts in our field, and to feel about our work as we did when we were in graduate school. Reading Betsy’s piece filled us with inspiration and hope: “This renewal will shine through when you return. Your students will sense it. At least you hope they will. Even if they don’t, you will have a new reservoir from which to draw, of examples, and ideas, and arguments as to what matters.”

In between sabbaticals, we teach—and do committee work for our departments, the college, and maybe even the university. Brett Whysel, in a piece first published in Faculty Focus and reprinted here, counsels us to think about the ways that our commitments align with our values and our goals for our career. He writes, “According to self-determination theory, when we focus on the tasks that align with the college’s mission and our values, we create a motivating sense of autonomy and purpose. Doing fewer things better is inherently rewarding and builds our sense of competence.” Perhaps many of us can connect with that idea!

In the final piece of this issue, Geoff Klock, in true form (!), provides us with a collage of quotes. There is no summary of this piece, no one quote that distills Geoff’s thinking. Instead, the piece is fluid. We advise you to take your time with the piece. To read a few quotes at a time. Find out how you resonate with the ideas that encourage you to think about the nature of things, about the role of art in our lives, and the ways we alter our thoughts and our world with what we accept and what we do not.

We hope you will take much from the ideas in this issue. Be on the lookout for Inquirer Talks with CETLS if you’d like to hear more or have further conversation about any of the articles. We look forward to continuing the conversation with our authors and with you.

We would like to thank Rob Gizis for his work setting and designing this issue. And on a final note, Holly will be stepping down as editor for the Inquirer. She is currently a co-chair for the Middle States Self-Study. Hollis Glaser will be working on issue 33 with Elizabeth Wissinger. Please write to them if you have an idea you’d like to share for the next issue of the Inquirer!

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