Collectively Designing Mentorship: A Journey

by William McDonald-Newman

What do you do when mentorship doesn’t exist? Build it. Or at least that’s what we did.

I was hired in Fall ’24 to be the Assistant Coordinator of Supplemental Instruction (SI). At that time, I barely knew what SI was. Weeks into the job I had student staffers, SI Leaders, asking for help that I didn’t yet know how to give, but I knew a thing SI Leaders do. At a study table, an SI Leader redirects questions, they pivot and pull in others to give them a chance to build confidence by helping their peers. So, I did an approximation of that. I connected one extremely competent student staffer with the newcomer dealing with challenges.

Then it happened again. And again.

By the time winter term rolled around, I was getting better at my job. I knew enough to help, but there were times when a peer mentor was needed, and there was no structure. I recommended this student, that student; the experienced and friendly and knowledgeable, to those looking for mentorship. Usually, I had the chance to chat with both students first, to prep the duo for success, but not always.

I like structure. Not too much, but enough to help people succeed. The system as it stood was messy, improvised, and only helped those who came to me and asked. Chatting it over with some of those I’d directed students towards, that I’d asked to be informal mentors, we decided to make it an actual ‘thing.’ I sent out one email for volunteers and got twelve replies from our team of roughly forty: five seniors who wanted to help design it, and seven underclassmen who wanted to design it, train for it, and be mentors. It only took three meetings.

Meeting Overviews

Meeting 1 involved collecting what mattered, what they wanted it to be. I suggested things here and there, largely to consolidate similar ideas, but that was it.

Meeting 2 involved splitting into two groups going over what their mentors had done, what a mentor can’t do, what the mentor/mentee relationship should be, and comparing between the groups.

Meeting 3 was for consolidation. We put all the pieces together and made it into a training schedule.

Here is a detailed list of meeting topics and notes, so you can see the range and depth of thinking in each meeting. The topics and plan were student-driven and informed by SI Leader experiences and perspective on how we could better support incoming SI Leaders.

So What?

It’s all about the journey. I believe that, and this journey reminded me of it. At the end of that term, we had a document, a plan, and a group of brilliant people who were ready to make it a reality, but we all knew it’d evolve. It wasn’t a project that ended, it was a journey with a pause. Now, I’m looking at spring and planning another design meeting.

As a supervisor this felt easy, natural, but it was only that because we did it together. Twelve students built something that would help the nineteen joining the team then, the eighteen joining the team soon, and who knows how many to come thereafter.

My advice is to trust good people to do good things, to build something ambitious, insightful, and amazing. There may be moments where you need to keep things on track, clarify confusion, or keep the creation inside the scope of your resources, but be honest, be open, and be flexible.

What’s WISE about Human Support in the Era of ChatGPT?

by Chessie Alberti & WAW

Dancing Through Chaos

To deal with the increasing chaos, precarity, and uncertainty of rapid change in a higher education environment that is impacted by continually expanding generative AI tools, lately we have both been drawn to embodied practices which feel untouchable by AI: Somatic Experiencing and social dancing.

As Woodrós explained in prior posts (here and here), they have been studying Somatic Experiencing (SE), a particular type of supportive, one-on-one conversation.

Recently, Chessie started taking lindy hop classes and learning about the role of “lead” and “follow” in partnered dancing. Dance is also deeply somatic and embodied. Social dancing requires the ability to connect and respond to another human body in a one-on-one context, noticing the cues of a partner and responding.

On Being Embodied

So, we found ourselves reflecting: what can we learn from these partnered embodied practices, like dance and SE, that can help us understand what makes our 1-on-1 work go beyond what an AI large language model can provide to a specific person? After all, AI doesn’t (at this time) have a body. Humans are essentially nervous system mammals, and our need for other people in order to learn is why we have universities.

In the Office of Academic Support, our programs use a conversational framework called the WISE model. According to the WISE model, academic support conversations move through four stages: Welcome, Identifying goals and approach, Supporting the learner, and Ending with purpose. When we think about what human-centered learning support services have to offer in comparison with AI programs, it makes sense to consider our embodied experience within the WISE conversation cycle.

So, how do we consider WISE as an embodied practice?

Looking with Both “I”s

As we reflected and brainstormed ideas for this article, we kept coming back to the power of identifying an approach for each conversation. We realized that the I in WISE has two features: Identifying goals (the one we’re most familiar with) and Identifying APPROACH. Somehow, we realized, the “Identifying approach” piece of WISE kept falling out of our training materials or ending up in the S (Support the learner) part of the cycle.

When we “Identify goals,” we ask questions like: Why is the student at office hours? Why did your colleague want to meet with you? What is the student hoping to accomplish in their conversation with a peer coach or writing consultant? This way, we draw on the knowledge the person seeking support has about the challenge they are facing and the knowledge of the person offering support, working together to clarify the goals.

The second part, “Identify Approach,” is essential but we find it is easier to overlook. We typically have trained students on this component as a part of the “Support” phase, but believe it adds values to clearly root it in the “I” of “WISE,” and conceptualize the different shapes this “Identify Goal” and “Identify Approach” phase of the conversation might take.

“Im-Bodied” Idea Generation

It is here, as well, that we make distinctions between what AI can do and what is possible with a body, a “soma” – what somatic information and moves are available to us as social animals interacting with fellow mammals? The state of each nervous system entering the conversation and the extent to which the two people’s nervous systems can sync up in a productive way also impacts the approach that will be taken towards the goal. Maybe a conversation needs to start with a little venting, then move into problem solving or brainstorming, and then narrow the plan based on that. Maybe laughter is needed to dissipate tension so that deeper thinking can be possible.

These two areas intersect to help determine the most optimal conversation shape: Who knows more about the relevant part? How much deep thinking can be made available in the conversational space?

The combination of deciding the two “Identifies” is important, and there is also variety in the way the I and S might interact (Identify Goals, Identify Approach, offer Support). Some conversations are linear, following the progression we’ve outlined. In others, there is an ebb and flow between the different components – it might not be clear when identifying goals shifted into choosing an approach or offering support, as they do have interconnected components. Additionally, the model can be recursive, with several small cycles of identifying goals, identifying approach, offering support, and repeating, starting with identifying the next goal. That’s a little theoretical, so let’s put it in an embodied context.

Conversation as Dance

Actually–the shape of this conversation starts to feel a little bit like partnered dancing. At the beginning of the conversation, one partner takes the “lead” role, and one partner unfurls as the “follow.” In social dancing, being a good “lead” is less dictator-like than one might expect; the “lead’s” role is more about creating a “picture frame” for the “follow” to fill in. The “lead” offers cues that are responsive to the “follow” and within their skill level. A “follow” responds to the “lead,” filling in the space offered by each cue. In gender-inclusive “Everybody Leads, Everybody Follows” dancing culture, partners may switch roles depending on what they’re trying to practice–depending on the goals of their dance.

We believe the WISE model of 1-1 support conversations connects to this “Everybody Leads, Everybody Follows” culture, and Woodrós also sees connection to wisdom gleaned from the Somatic Experiencing model. Responding to the reality of what’s accessible and important in that moment and prioritizing based on that – still informed by deep topical or self-knowledge – allows a more compelling conversational “dance” to unfurl. Each person brings relevant, deep knowledge (whether self-knowledge or subject-specific knowledge) and uses that to create the necessary “picture frames” that will evoke a solution aligned with the goals. The nervous systems of these two social mammals inform, support, and enable this complex and multi-tiered exchange, mixing explicit and implicit knowledge sources to optimize the conversation for these two embodied individuals in this particular moment.

AI Not WISE Enough

This is so different from talking to ChatGPT! There, you have to be the “lead” and the “follow.” You have to define both the approach and the goals you want. You cannot receive coregulation from ChatGPT to support higher level thinking, but instead need to have prepared that ahead. It’s a different kind of conversation than the one that is possible with another person. Of course, it’s also quite complex to facilitate one-on-one support as a whole person with a nervous system of our own: ChatGPT isn’t going to have days where it’s less regulated and less able to effectively empower someone (but how good at empowerment is it to begin with, really?)

Perhaps a person under stress is more likely to fall into a “saviorist” mentality or tell someone “just go here instead, I can’t help you,” but AI is known to be sycophantic, offer hallucinations, or do the math wrong. If we human facilitators can remember that we are embodied and attend to the needs of our own nervous systems to support co-regulation, we can access our strength. Embodiment provides us the magic of the dance, and it also calls us to have the level of self-awareness that an experienced lead brings to that medium.

In conversation, we can also adjust to best support the other person to be as skilled and confident as they can be that day, supporting their agency. This might mean doing the conversational equivalent of switching roles so they can introduce a favorite dance step, setting them up for a solo spin, or supporting them in learning a new set of dance steps they’re stressed about and unsure of by providing firm direction and then gradually reducing the pressure of that guidance as they increase in confidence.

AI can’t dance like a person can, so it’s worth the effort it takes to have high quality conversations. One-on-one conversations can shift the world.

I Kill Trees for Quality Feedback. I Am a Tree-Killer.

by Nicole Hindes

A few years ago I integrated the regular use of a new paper-based feedback tool when I facilitated discussions and workshops at the Basic Needs Center. I also began to intentionally reserve (spacious) time at the end of each workshop and discussion for participants to complete the feedback tool before the session’s scheduled end-time. Immediately, I noticed how useful the feedback was for my practice, how quickly the regular feedback helped me improve my facilitation and staff development skills. 

When I distribute these forms at the end of a workshop, I name my goals authentically, and I make my request clearly. I might say something like “Feedback you share with me always helps me grow and get better at this. I consider today’s workshop a 1.0 version—there were definitely some parts of today that felt clunky to me—help me take this workshop to the next level so I can get even better for future BNC students. I take your feedback seriously and it’s really helped me grow our team. I appreciate all the time you spend writing your feedback every week.” And then I wait patiently for students to record their feedback, and I try to say thank you to each of them as they finish and add theirs to the stack. 

Some of the helpful (real) feedback I have received has included: 

“I liked the out-loud reading of the article, kept everyone in sync (paying attention)”

“Let us read to ourselves.” “It’s difficult to annotate when we read aloud. I can’t take in the information in the same way.” (We can’t please everyone at all times!)

“Seeing where my coworkers stand on the discussion questions helps me to understand them better.”

“Good mix of moving and sitting.”

“It might be good to re-order this: do the reading earlier in the workshop and then the activity to explore the ideas in the reading.”

“I enjoyed not being rushed in conversation and the facilitator’s continued solicitation of input from the group; this led to richer discussions.”

“I would like more practice with things we learn or examples we will face at work.” 

The team sees me integrate their feedback—and when I remember, I mention in the next workshop that the facilitation changed as a result of feedback from the team. I also like that the worksheet makes clear what my goals are, metrics and values that matter to me in my leadership. These forms get kept in binders in my office. Some of the quotes on my feedback forms make clear how important staff development is to quality services for students. Feedback from co-curricular and student employee workshops help demonstrate Student Affairs’ contribution to student learning outcomes. This qualitative data can be useful contributions to annual reports, advocacy efforts, budget considerations, donor communications and other strategic communications. 

Last week one of the BNC students left feedback suggesting that I use a digital feedback tool to save paper. Because I’m committed to feedback, I find myself clinging to this paper form not willing to let go (it is just so effective!) and simultaneously challenging myself to stay open-minded to the feedback being offered, open-minded to the idea of a digital version of the same questions I’m asking nowadays. 

But I don’t feel ready to jump in yet. 

I would love to hear of a colleague finding success with a digital workshop feedback form. I would be thrilled to hear that an OSU staff member is regularly receiving (in a digital format) the same quality of feedback that I’m receiving from these paper forms. If someone shows me proof of concept, I’ll experiment with a digital form. But until then, you can pry these binders full of paper feedback forms out of my cold, dead hands. 

Nicole welcomes feedback and conversations about promoting feedback practices throughout our division and our campus. Send her an email: nicole.hindes@oregonstate.edu 

Five Ways Fiction Fuels My Work

by Sarah Norek

I love reading fiction. I love being read fiction. Some of my favorite kid memories are me in my bed watching stories my mother read form and shift inside my brain. Fiction has fed me for a long, long time. It’s offered escape, provided comfort, consumed me with discomfort, and shown me structures for narratives I wouldn’t have known otherwise. And, I think it’s an interesting thought experiment to explore how it shapes moves I make and perspectives I have in my role here at OSU. Because it’s not non-fiction that I’m using to learn more about a topic, or to grow my skills as a communicator or facilitator or supervisor, or to deepen my understanding on a key topic (though I do engage with this kind of reading, too). But the fiction I read can still offer insight into those areas.

Reading fiction has…

1… informed my email voice. I read, and listen to, as many books as I can, and the cadence and rhythm and sentence structures I’m exposed to inherently inform the way I approach written communication with others. I communicate with colleagues and a lot of students. And in this communication, I need to inform and convey care, or leadership, or both, and more. Do my sentences get too long sometimes? 100%. But the bones and tone and voice are there and have been informed and supported in their development by the stories I’ve consumed.

2…girded my reflection. As I like to read, so too do I like to write. And, in particular, I love an exploratory free-write. While free-writing I’m often reflecting, and these reflections help me explore what might be going on for me at work that I’m not necessarily voicing. I find it so much easier to write than to speak! Reflection has led to realizations about boundaries, support, connections, and more. It’s offered a container to puzzle through challenges and try out solutions. Is fiction involved? Sometimes. Or maybe all the time in that my personal narratives are informed by the narratives I’ve read, if not in terms of content, then perhaps in terms of flow and the invitation to engage in free-association, which can make things an adventure and also offer avenues for resolutions I might not have entertained otherwise.

3…offered points of connection with others. This feels like one of the most consequential to my work-work, even though it’s grounded in non-work. I love talking about fiction and novels or story collections being read. I love to share and hear about books and to process narratives and characters with colleagues. I get to learn about their experiences as readers, and also about them as humans, and I feel like (and I hope they do too, but no pressure… 😊) our relationships become richer because of these shared fiction experiences, which then further our work-work together too.

4…given me multiple opportunities to learn about experiences different from my own (and, to read similar experiences or thinking in others and feel less alone). I’m reading characters who hold different identities than me and finding authors whose backgrounds and experiences may overlap with mine, but also may diverge quite a bit. Am I learning strategies for supporting others and to better recognize processes and structures that have inequitable impacts on students? Maybe not explicitly, but I do think that by choosing to read a variety of books and authors I have the opportunity to apply learning and thinking I’ve done within academia to fictional spaces, and to find ways I’ve developed and also gaps in understanding I still have. 

5…humbled me. I used to have a lot of strong feelings about romance novels. I used to have a lot of biases against them and what I assumed was their writing. And I was challenged in these biases and misconceptions by first one book, then another, then another, as I listened and thought, wow, what a fabulous description, or, good grief, what a gorgeous sentence. Now, these are books and authors I seek out. It may seem small, but it’s an instance of me getting to practice changing my perspective. It feels low stakes, but practice is practice and informs my ability to walk into more challenging conversations, or more divisive or contentious discussions, and to bring that experience of being open to changing my thinking and interested in listening to others.

I write all this not to imply that everyone should go and read a bunch of fiction now (but, totally, everyone should definitely go and read some fiction right now, and if you want to talk about books and what you like to read or what you recommend or what we’ve both read, surprise!, definitely let’s connect), but to reflect on how this act (reading) and this form (fiction) have played a part in my being who I am and what I do in my work at OSU. It’s not a connection I would’ve made naturally (thanks for the nudge, Marjorie!), but I think that’s maybe what I’m getting at – what are the things you love outside of work and how do they shape who you are and what you do at work? We’re complex! Comprised of so much. And as much as we may compartmentalize, what might happen when we select a non-work compartment to see what it means to the work that we do?