How I’m Thinking About Teaching, Misalignment, and Integrity This Fall

Aug 06, 2025

Feeling dread as the fall semester approaches? You’re not alone. In this post, I share my thoughts on what it means to teach with integrity in the current political climate, including the questions that helped me navigate potential misalignments.

Yesterday, I read a Substack post that stopped me in my tracks. I had an entirely different post scheduled for today—but after reading this one, I scrapped my outline and started fresh.

So here I am, writing at 7 pm on a Tuesday—multi-tasking as I contemplate what to make for dinner.

The post that shifted my plans is titled “Academic Crashout: Surviving the Collapse of Public Health and Academic Freedom” and was written by Dr. Tiffany Younger—a public health scholar navigating the current collapse of higher education institutions in the United States.

Photo by Walls.io on Unsplash

If you’re not familiar with the concept of crashing out, it’s used to describe a strong emotional response to a stressful or triggering situation.

I love a good culture-laden academic critique, and Dr. Younger’s raw, unflinching post didn’t disappoint.

“Just last week, I had another crashout after learning about the Trump administration’s recent cuts to funding and fellowship opportunities and then a “jkidding” email. It sent me into a spiral wondering whether I’ll be able to continue my career in academic medicine at all. These crashout moments are both cathartic and deeply stressful. I feel like we’re being toyed with expected not to react as the very foundation of our work is being dismantled.”

Oof. I know that feeling—and if you’re teaching this fall, I bet you do too.

We are being asked to show up inside institutions that are increasingly misaligned with the values they claim to uphold. And if you are a faculty member of color—or someone whose research directly engages with race, gender, equity, or power—that misalignment isn’t just theoretical. It’s a persistent source of stress, anxiety, and uncertainty.

Later this week, I’ll join Dr. Leslie Wang on her podcast Your Words Unleashed. In preparing, I’ve been thinking about what I want to say about this moment and I keep circling back to this:

What does it mean to teach in a values-aligned way when everything around you feels misaligned?

Below, I’m sharing a few of the questions I’ve been asking myself—and how I’m sitting with them right now. If you’re in your own crashout season, I hope they offer some clarity. Or, at the very least, serve as a reminder that you’re not alone.

Quickfire Reflections

Q1: How do you keep teaching topics that have become politicized, when that’s exactly what you were hired to do?

My answer to this has evolved over time. In the beginning, I over-efforted. I went to great lengths to ensure that I represented a full range of political perspectives, curated diverse readings, and created space for disagreement and discussion.

What I’ve learned is this: no amount of effort can persuade someone who is committed to misunderstanding you to act in good faith.

In fact, I’ve found that the more I tried to please those students—by bringing data, pointing out disagreements among scholars, and referencing thinkers across ideological and institutional spectrums—the more disengaged some of them became. They stopped reading. They stopped showing up. And they waited to weaponize their power through course evaluations.

I still believe it’s worth naming when scholarly research or commentary flattens nuance or prematurely dismisses opposing views. I do my best to acknowledge that in class. But I’ve also made peace with being misunderstood. That’s not easy—but it’s necessary if you want to keep teaching in integrity with yourself.

As a pre-tenure faculty member, I also took steps to protect myself. I regularly invited senior colleagues from across campus to observe my teaching and provide documentation. Over time, this created a clear, consistent record: that I was a thoughtful, effective educator committed to rigor, complexity, and student development. Ironically, it’s the hostility I received in evaluations that made me better. I became more precise, more grounded, and a much more effective educator.

In the current climate, I think it’s important to think strategically about how to talk about certain topics. There are certain buzzwords that seem to get people’s backs up right now. If you choose to say them, be ready for the potential consequences.

That’s both unfair and enraging, but it’s the truth.

Alternatively, think about how you can talk about the same things in ways that aren’t being politicized. For example, I’ve found teaching about intergroup relations—including power and difference—is much easier when my course is framed around the the study of emotions rather than social identity theory.

And even though students often want you to provide “real talk” about current events—I personally think it’s unwise in this climate—particularly with undergraduate students.

I’m a member of several education communities and it’s very clear to me that you should assume you are always be recorded in class. And even when students share positive feelings about your class on social media, they don’t always understand discretion and post screenshots or recordings without proper context. These innocent mistakes put you at risk of being doxxed.

Right now, I’m focused on stopping the bleeding and opening this door invites more stress than I am able to manage at the moment.

You may have more bandwidth. If so, do you. Each person has to make decisions within their current capacity level. There’s no judgment or shade from me on this one given the stakes.

Q2: What does it mean to show up for students when you feel increasingly out of alignment with your institution?

To be honest, this moment doesn’t change much about how I think about institutional alignment. I’ve never fully felt aligned with higher education institutions to begin with. That may sound cynical, but it’s not. It’s a reflection of my lived experience.

For example, I’ve watched debate after debate unfold about bias in student evaluations. The research is clear. The psychological toll on faculty—especially women, people of color, and queer scholars—is well documented. And yet, almost no meaningful policy changes have followed.

Evaluations are still anonymous. Still administered during the most stressful stretch of the semester. And still treated as objective measures of teaching quality, despite a mountain of evidence to the contrary.

I’ve long operated under the understanding that most institutions are not structurally aligned with equity, even when they claim to be.

That’s why my focus has always been on my students. Not on shaping them into who I want them to be—but on helping them think critically, engage ethically, and ask better questions. I rarely share personal hot takes in the classroom. I don’t believe students need our opinions—they need tools to navigate complexity. There’s enough research and triangulated data in our disciplines to support meaningful inquiry without putting ourselves in the spotlight.

I’ve found that when I focus on the curious students who are invested and open to growth, I’m rarely disappointed. That’s where alignment in my teaching lives for me—helping my students become more civic-minded and intellectually curious.

Q3: How do you decide when to stay and when to go?

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer to this question, so I’ll focus on what I think shouldn’t be keeping you stuck.

Too often, we shrink out of fear or uncertainty. Change is scary. The unknown is scarier. And for those of us carrying financial trauma from childhood—or living with the weight of generational expectations—risk can feel unbearable. Institutions benefit from that fear. They know we’re conditioned to play it safe.

And let’s be honest: doomscrolling doesn’t help.

Recently, I watched a podcast interview of former Uber CMO and powerhouse businesswoman Bozoma Saint John. If you don’t know her, look her up. She’s held executive leadership roles at Pepsi, Apple, and Netflix.

For some context on her, she once gave bold, unsolicited script feedback to Spike Lee—while working as a temp in his office. And this wasn’t early Spike Lee. This was Spike Lee at his peak.

She trusted herself and her voice, even then.

In the interview, she describes her approach to decision-making, and she said something I can’t stop thinking about:

“I don’t stress over decisions. I decide, knowing my destiny will meet me where I am.”

Wow, just wow.

Now, let’s be real—she likely has more resources and support than many of us. But there’s still something profound in what she said.

Many of us are sitting on decades of evidence that we are capable, resilient, and resourceful. Our track records speak for themselves.

So, while I can’t tell you whether to stay or go, I can tell you this: the best bet you can ever make is on yourself.

Notes From A Work Friend™

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