Haedong Rho is a graduate student in the Economics department where he works as TA for courses including Econometrics (ECON 113). In this Q&A, Rho shares his experience in using TLC's strategies to recognize moments of conflict and trauma without attempting to resolve them.
What cases or topics did you explore in your classroom?
During Fall 2024 and Winter 2025, a sensitive geopolitical conflict emerged as an emotionally charged and politically salient issue on campus. Some of my students were actively participating in protests, and I was directly challenged by one student for continuing to teach and grade “as if nothing happened.” This confrontation catalyzed a larger reflection on how silence or neutrality may be perceived as complicity, especially in moments of collective trauma and global conflict.
What makes a difficult conversation difficult?
Difficult conversations are those that bridge classroom instruction with sociopolitical events that carry emotional and ethical weight. They are challenging because they require instructors to acknowledge trauma without derailing pedagogy or stepping beyond their expertise. Students, especially those directly or indirectly impacted by such events, often expect recognition, not indifference. For them, a “difficult conversation” is often about being seen, emotionally, politically, and intellectually, in educational spaces that often default to depersonalized routines.
“I learned that saying a little is better than saying nothing. I was surprised by how we can communicate with students without taking a position. Another key takeaway is the importance of pedagogical wellness: sustaining my ability to teach during turbulent times requires setting limits, recognizing my own vulnerability, and resisting the pressure to be emotionally omnipresent.”
Art by Marina de Haro
What TLC methods or strategies did you employ?
I implemented the TLC guide’s “Acknowledge Current Events” strategy, which calls for naming the broader context without attempting to resolve or fully address it. This approach helped me balance between emotional resonance and instructional boundaries. For instance, whenever this subject is brought up by students, I would briefly acknowledge the campus protests and the emotional toll on them. Then, I clarified that while the course would proceed, flexibility and compassion would guide my teaching.
This method aligned with the pedagogical wellness principle of mutual care: it allowed me to respect students’ lived realities while protecting my own emotional bandwidth and instructional clarity.
What strategies seemed to work most effectively? What worked less well?
The explicit acknowledgment of current events worked most effectively. It reduced tension and preempted further misunderstandings about my stance or motives. Students seemed to appreciate that I did not ignore what was happening outside the classroom. What worked less well was trying to “remain neutral” early in the quarter. Avoiding the issue entirely was interpreted by some students as passive endorsement of violence, which undermined trust. I learned that acknowledgment was the key gesture.
How do you define or interpret “effectiveness” when it comes to holding difficult conversations? What does it mean from your perspective as an instructor and what do you think it means for your students?
Effectiveness means making space for emotion and conflict without abandoning the instructional mission. For me, it’s about reducing harm while preserving the integrity of the learning environment. For students, I believe effectiveness means experiencing the classroom as a space that recognizes their full humanity, not just as learners, but as citizens. Even brief moments of acknowledgment can help students re-engage academically while feeling validated personally.
What kinds of support would make holding difficult conversations in class more effective (however you define it)?
Support from departments and administration in the form of clear expectations, model language, and flexible policies would be effective. More structured training or peer demonstration of the “Acknowledge Current Events” method would be particularly helpful. Access to trauma-informed teaching consultants and coordinated messaging across courses would prevent instructors from feeling isolated or caught between silence and overexposure.
Other salient impressions?
I learned that saying a little is better than saying nothing. I was surprised by how we can communicate with students without taking a position. Another key takeaway is the importance of pedagogical wellness: sustaining my ability to teach during turbulent times requires setting limits, recognizing my own vulnerability, and resisting the pressure to be emotionally omnipresent. Holding space does not mean absorbing everything.