The Power of Vulnerability in Fostering a Positive Faculty-Student Interaction

By: Aesha Mustafa

I am a therapist and have a therapist. Oh, and I take medication to treat my depression, anxiety, and complex PTSD! 

My students frequently hear me talk about being in therapy and taking medication to support my mental health. I joke that they are probably sick of me saying that, but it is worth repeating. 

You may be wondering why I share all of this with students (and with readers of this blog). Well, after countless years of therapy, I finally recognized the power of vulnerability—in this case, the power of vulnerability to foster a positive faculty-student interaction. I draw on this concept from the work of Dr. Brené Brown, who has revolutionized how I teach.

In incorporating the power of vulnerability into my teaching practice, I reflect on how I present my experiences in ways that resonate with my students. For example, in Winter 2024, I received a mini-grant from the Faculty Development Center to support student wellness. In my class, EDLD 631: Human Relations Skills for Educational Leaders, I invited a friend and former colleague, Raina LaGrand, to lead a workshop on building and fostering a resilient nervous system. Specifically, we focused on embodying somatic practices (i.e. connecting the mind and body) to strengthen leadership skills. Building off this workshop, I assigned my students to create a self-regulation plan to help them recognize when their nervous system may be triggered in leadership roles—particularly in response to feeling misunderstood, questioned, criticized, or rejected—and to develop strategies to manage those reactions.

When designing this assignment, it was important for me to share how, through therapy and medication, I am able to recognize signs of dysregulation in my own nervous system and the strategies I use to regulate it. 

I told my students how, recently, in another course, I invited a guest speaker who stated a blatant racial microaggression towards a student of color. I told them how I immediately panicked about addressing this with the class. I went into fight-or-flight mode and experienced increased heart rate, warm, flushed skin, and feelings of anxiety and fear. 

I shared my internal spiraling dialogue: Should I address the entire class about the microaggression? Or just the student it was directed at? Will my students think I am a terrible leader having brought this person in? If the administration finds out about this, will my job be in jeopardy? How will this impact my teaching evaluations? … I need good evaluations to help me receive tenure.

I quickly recalled a cognitive reframing technique my therapist taught me to challenge my spiraling thoughts: The Catch It, Check it, Change It approach. Using this approach, my thoughts shifted to:

• (I think) my students like me. We can have an open dialogue about how that statement made us feel. It is unlikely that they will judge me based on the speaker’s behavior.

• While I am the instructor and “in charge of the classroom,” I do not need to have all of the answers. I can ask students how to proceed and cultivate a collaborative learning environment. 

• This incident does not reflect who I am as an instructor or my values. It is doubtful to result in my not receiving tenure IN THREE YEARS.  

I explained to my EDLD 631 class that this approach, in conjunction with the medications I take to calm my overactive thinking and increase my ability to recognize my distorted thinking, helped to regulate my nervous system. Additionally, I explained that my thought process is called "catastrophizing," or the cognitive distortion that prompts people to predict the worst-case scenario. 

All of the above transpired in a matter of a few minutes. After the guest speaker left, my heart felt like it would jump out of my chest as I immediately addressed the incident. One student immediately said, "Thank you so much for saying something. I was going to email you." As a class, we bonded in shock and disbelief over what had just occurred, and I openly admitted that I was not sure how to proceed. In showing my vulnerability, my students witnessed that, as faculty, we do not have all of the answers. They saw what it looks like for a leader to take accountability. 

Even in sharing this experience, I am demonstrating vulnerability as a pre-tenured Black woman faculty member. While Brown’s concept of the power of vulnerability has transformed my teaching, her work overlooks how Black and Brown individuals often lack the same protections as White individuals. Research widely discusses the prevalent challenges and unequal barriers that Black women academics frequently encounter, including insufficient support and little to no protection from their institutions. As Black women, there are often consequences for our showing of vulnerability, including being labeled as aggressive, difficult to work with, under-prepared for our role, and losing our jobs.

My research agenda focuses on Black women on the tenure track at predominantly white Research 1 institutions, and how they describe and enact their personal and professional commitments while navigating their institution's priorities and reward structure. So, I knew the price of staying silent or the price of speaking up. 

So, I chose to be vulnerable in my classroom and address the racial microaggression. Additionally, I chose to be vulnerable and share with another class how therapy and medication contributed to my self-regulation plan. My sharing paid off.  

Taken from my course evaluation: “Aesha is the most compassionate professor I've ever had. She not only teaches us course content but also how to care for ourselves. She is truly the best professor I've ever had.”

While I am by no means “the best professor,” I can say that the power of vulnerability allows me to show up as my best self, perhaps most notably in the most stressful of situations.