Students are at increasing risk of mental health problems, and universities are struggling in their efforts to respond.
Before the pandemic descended and emptied its hallways, the Davis Building at the University of Toronto’s suburban Mississauga campus (UTM) was a busy hub of academic and social life, and the students walked with a briskness that matched the pace in any urban rail station. The campus’s Health and Counselling Centre (HCC) is just down a set of stairs, in the basement of the building. Last November, a young woman went there after struggling with feelings of being overwhelmed and anxious about living up to academic demands and grappling with unresolved trauma. Anushka* was experiencing suicidal
ideation that culminated in a specific plan involving a bottle of pills that she carried in her backpack.
People are often told to find their passion as though passions and interests are pre-formed and must simply be discovered. This idea, however, has hidden motivational implications. Five studies examined implicit theories of interest—the idea that personal interests are relatively fixed
(fixed theory) or developed (growth theory). Whether assessed or experimentally induced, a fixed theory was more likely to dampen interest in areas outside people’s existing interests (Studies 1–3). Those endorsing a fixed theory were also more likely to anticipate boundless
motivation when passions were found, not anticipating possible difficulties (Study 4). Moreover, when engaging in a new interest became difficult, interest flagged significantly more for people induced to hold a fixed than a growth theory of interest (Study 5). Urging people to find their
passion may lead them to put all their eggs in one basket but then to drop that basket when it becomes difficult to carry.
Abstract
Many post-secondary institutions are developing policies and programs aimed at improving responses to sexual assault
experienced by students. In some areas, such as Ontario, Canada, the government has mandated post-secondary institutions
to do so. However significant these initiatives, they are predicated on the assumption that students trust, and want to
engage with, the university following sexual violence. This study explores students’ perceptions of sexual assault policies and
services on one mid-size university campus focusing specifically on how trust factors into reporting sexual victimization and
using services. Findings show that students believe that sexual assault policies and programs exist, but this does not mean
students are willing to use such resources or that they even trust that their university has students’ needs and interests at the
fore. This paper discusses policy and programmatic considerations for building student trust in their post-secondary institutions
to encourage student use of campus support.
Keywords: sexual assault policies, student trust, institutional betrayal, sexual violence, university policy, violence prevention
When I write CIHR grant applications, it’s easy for me to argue that my project is important: it’s because of the impact my work will have on the health of Canadians. But when I write SSHRC grant applications, I can’t make that same argument, because the reviewers would think I’ve applied to the wrong funding agency. How do I argue to SSHRC review committees that my work is worth funding?
Dr. Editor’s response:
The Social Science and Humanities Research Council of Canada – while specifying different criteria for different competitions – is generally looking to fund projects that are significant, important, and valuable.
In SSHRC’s Insight Grant competition, for instance, their evaluation criteria are “challenge,” “feasibility,” and “capability”. As part of the “challenge” criterion, they’re considering the “originality, significance, and expected contribution to knowledge” of the project; under the “capability” criterion, they’re considering the “quality, quantity and significance of past experience and published and/or creative outputs” (see SSHRC Insight Grants). Other SSHRC competitions want to know about your top five “most significant career research contributions” (see SSHRC Partnership Grants).
While online learning environments are increasingly common, relatively little is known about issues of equity in these settings. We test for the presence of race and gender biases among postsecondary students and instructors in online classes by measuring student and instructor responses to discussion comments we posted in the discussion forums of 124 different online courses. Each comment was randomly assigned a student name connoting a specific race and gender. We find that instructors are 94% more likely to respond to forum posts by White male students. In contrast, we do not find general evidence of biases in student responses. However, we do find that comments placed by White females are more likely to receive a response from White female peers. We discuss the implications of our findings for our understanding of social identity dynamics in classrooms and the design of equitable online
learning environments.
“Make sure you know which train or bus to catch, at what time(s), and the stop closest to your destination. Check the timetable! Even in large cities, bus services can be few and far between in the evenings. Avoid waiting alone at a bus stop at night, particularly in poorly lit or deserted
areas.”
You might assume that this advice was written by a fearful parent for a nervous teenager embarking on their first solo trip to a distant town. In fact, it is taken from a training leaflet titled “How can I be safe while interviewing people?”, written for its postgraduate students by the Centre for Urban History at the University of Leicester.
This is just one example of the extent to which the modern culture of fear has infiltrated university campuses. The leaflet evokes a vision of urban Britain in which the perils of a bus journey and the dangers posed by visiting people in their homes demand “that someone knows where you are going”.
It’s October and the requests are starting to pile up. They’re multiplying so fast they feel like an anvil-weight of duty perpetually hanging over your head. They refuse to dissipate as the semester progresses, no matter how well you schedule your time or keep track of deadlines. And the worst part is: The sheer amount of work required to meet these demands goes hidden, uncredited, and unsupported.
We are referring to the mountain of requests that some faculty members receive to write letters of reference for students.
When it comes to the hiring and retention of faculty of color, the situation across higher education is, as the saying goes, “déjà vu all over again.” Colleges and universities seem trapped in a time loop, issuing proclamations and statements similar to those made by our predecessors decades ago with limited success. Campus activists are wondering: Can academe live up to its promises this time?
There’s no doubt the job of teaching is a big and important one. With case studies, instructors can explain ongoing social issues using historical snapshots that present a complete picture of the past and a guide for the present.
So your strategic plan reached the end of its life span. The question is: Did anyone notice — aside from the folks who filed final reports about it for accreditors and trustees?
Too often, the answer is no. An institution or a department begins a strategic plan with great fanfare but the end is usually anticlimactic. Most of the people supposedly affected by the plan are unaware of its actual outcomes — and may not even remember the original goals.
That kind of lackluster finale represents a lost opportunity. The fact that most of us fail to conclude our strategic plans with as much energy as we start them undermines future planning. It also masks the reality that strategic planning is continuous and reciprocal: We are supposed to learn from the process, not just check some boxes and forget about it.
Because of pandemic-induced distance learning, planning lessons and remaining connected with students involves an increasingly sophisticated understanding of the benefits and potential problems with edtech resources. As a veteran teacher and instructional coach with years of experience in edtech, I’ve seen it over and over again: Teachers’ inboxes and social media news feeds are inundated with advertised tech products, and it’s hard to know what will enhance the learning experience for our students, whether they use the tool in class or remotely.
There are a host of factors that educators need to consider when choosing edtech tools and resources that will support their students and instruction.
As an academic and a college president, I wish I could say I was first introduced to the idea of women doing their own thing, making their way in the big wide world, through some worthwhile book or artsy film.
But I can’t. In my parochial, supportive (in a tough-love kind of way) blue-collar community, it was cigarette ads that most helped me envision a world for women that was different from the one my beloved mother inhabited so adeptly, and mostly comfortably.
I was a young girl leafing through my mom’s pile of Better Homes and Gardens when I first saw the 1970s ads for Virginia Slims. I loved those ads. The women were beautiful and cool, and — as a preteen — I bought hook, line, and sinker into the notion that women of the day had "come a long way, baby." To me those ads said that, as a woman, you could be yourself and still thrive in your personal and professional lives.
Faculty are crucial for students. They serve as instructors and mentors. They connect students with a network that will help them succeed and get good jobs in the future.
But they can also get in the way.
As the student population shifts away from the traditional 18-year-old heading off to live in a dorm to students who are older and lower income, institutions and their faculty members are struggling to find mutually agreeable ways to support nontraditional students.
Teaching in a hybrid in-person/remote model requires significantly more planning than teaching in the traditional classroom model. Tasks that were once quick, such as monitoring students’ progress during class and following up on late and missing
assignments, have become laborious, and everyday activities like making sure that students have access to material from the school library and determining the best technology tools to meet students’ needs take a tremendous amount of planning. More than ever, it’s important that I use my time efficiently and allow myself time to recharge.
Sexual violence continues to be a serious problem on university campuses. While the negative psychological and health
effects are well known, it is only recently that attention has focused on how sexual violence is related to educational outcomes,
particularly women’s education. This study contributes to this area and examined the relationship between types of sexual
violence and behavioural and attitudinal indicators of academic performance and persistence among students reporting
sexual violence. Undergraduate women attending universities in Ontario, Canada (N = 934) responded to survey measures of
academic performance, attitudes towards education and sexual violence experiences. The results indicate that sexual violence
is associated with women’s deteriorating academic performance including and beyond grades. Female students who experienced
sexual violence reported more delays and failures on assignments, courses and exams and were more likely to endorse
attendance problems and thoughts of dropping out or quitting than students not reporting sexual violence. Type of sexual
violence experienced was also related to academic performance with completed sexual assaults associated with more delays,
failures and non-attendance behaviours than other forms of unwanted sexual behaviours. The results are discussed in terms
of the need to understand new and additional aspects of academic performance and persistence as well as factors that may
contribute to outcomes for students. Findings have implications for intervention and policy development.
Keywords: academic performance, sexual violence, undergraduate students
Now that we are into the realities of teaching in a COVID-world, I keep hearing similar sentiments from my colleagues, something to the effect of, “It’s going fine, but I don’t feel like a good teacher anymore.” What I hear in these statements is not a bad teacher but one who has lost confidence in their teaching. Whether teaching fully online, a hybrid model, or in-person with social distancing requirements, everyone has had to make changes to the way they teach. The pedagogical style and practices that we previously relied on are either no longer an option or are not as effective given the current constraints. So, we have
adapted, learned the technology, and made necessary adjustments. We’re doing it, but we don’t feel like we’re doing it well. We’ve lost our confidence, and thus feel like we’re not good teachers anymore. The good news is that we don’t have to wait for teaching to return to “normal” to feel like good teachers again. We can start to feel confident again by building self-efficacy in our own online or hybrid teaching.
If you’re teaching in the hybrid model, as I am, you’re likely facing an array of challenges as you try to keep students who are in the physical classroom and those who are remote on track.
I see it every day: Students receive an overwhelming amount of emails and other digital communication throughout the day that need to be organized, and students who work remotely don’t have the benefit of reminders posted around the classroom, in-person reminders from their teacher and peers, or the bells ringing to tell them it is time to transition from one class to the next. Further confusion can be introduced when some are at school one day and at home the next, and among students who shuttle among parents, babysitters, and other caregivers throughout the week.
Abstract
Many peer mentorship programs in academia train senior students to guide groups of incoming students through the rigors
of postsecondary education. The mentorship program’s structure can influence how mentors develop from this experience.
Here, we compare how two different peer mentorship programs have shaped mentors’ experiences and development. The
curricular peer mentorship program was offered to mentors and mentees as credited academic courses. The non-curricular
program was offered as a voluntary student union service to students and peer mentors. Both groups of peer mentors shared
similar benefits, with curricular peer mentors (CMs) greatly valuing student interaction, and non-curricular peer mentors
(NCMs) greatly valuing leadership development. Lack of autonomy and lack of mentee commitment were cited as the biggest
concerns for CMs and NCMs, respectively. Both groups valued goal setting in shaping their mentorship development, but CMs
raised concerns about its overemphasis. Implications for optimal structuring of academic mentorship programs are discussed.
Keywords: peer mentorship, goal setting, postsecondary education, training program, program structure, student development
We know that the pandemic has led to an increase in depression and anxiety. But which groups are most at risk and why? What are the policy and service delivery adaptations that can reduce the burdens of social isolation, financial stress and fear of the unknown? What are the coping measures that are helping families and communities to be resilient? Across Canada, university researchers are working to understand the particular psychosocial effects of the pandemic, discovering concerning ripple effects – and also reasons for hope.
Canada has a highly educated population, and our overall rates of participation in post-secondary education are among the highest in the world. The problem of accessibility in Canadian higher education lies not in the overall rate of participation, but in the disparities and inequities in participation among elements of the Canadian population. Canadians from lower economic groups are less likely to obtain a postsecondary
education than individuals from wealthier backgrounds. Canada’s Aboriginal populations have extremely low levels of participation compared with
the population as a whole. Once admitted, there may also be important differences in whether students from different groups succeed in completing a postsecondary credential, or whether they are able to continue into professional or graduate programs.