The Comment That Shook Me
Recently while digging into faculty development at community colleges, I stumbled on a question:
“Are community colleges better than four-year institutions?”
One response caused me to sit in my thoughts. It claimed community college instructors usually hold at least a master’s degree and teach because they want to teach—whereas many four-year faculty are researchers at heart who have been “forced” to teach.
Forced. That single word explained so much.
It clarified why, in my own higher ed experience, conversations about pedagogy were rare; why professional development for teaching was “nice if you do” but “no big deal if you don’t.” And why those who published research seemed more highly esteemed than those who taught their hindparts off (as my grandfather would say).
My Accidental Journey into Higher Ed
I never planned to be an academic. I’d been a licensed educator for eight years before teaching my first course. The opportunity came to me, and since teaching anyone of any age lights me up, I said yes. I enjoyed the experience as I figured I would, but never imagined that I would end up doing it full-time for 19 years.
Teaching college just had never been a dream of mine.
My heart? It beat for the art of teaching…teaching students and training teachers in K–12.
I aspired to teach well, making learning easier, engaging, and enjoyable. In the back of my mind, I always wanted my students to think of learning as fun. So, I was never satisfied with last year’s lesson plans or with treating each group of students the way I treated another group. Consequently, my mind buzzed with ideas for improvement every single day.
It’s why I ignored my grandfather’s push toward computer programming or law, and why I left the thought of being an accountant behind after a high school project convinced me it wasn’t my calling. I chose teaching, fully aware it was not the most celebrated career path in the United States.
I planned to teach, then move into child psychology. But instead…
Pioneering Online Teaching Before It Was the Norm
In 2004, I became a full-time distance education lecturer—back when a fully online degree from a state HBCU was rare. I agreed to teach four courses each semester and two in the summer, while initially being both nervous and thrilled.
I did not realize how blessed I was at the time…not really, because I was allowed to do what I had always done–focus on teaching.
My department chair understood something vital: Online programs thrive when faculty feel connected to them. She avoided staffing them with one-off adjuncts and instead hired full-time instructors who could focus on quality teaching—not split attention with publishing demands.
As a result, we were free to pour ourselves into the student experience, and I loved it.
The Surprising Silence Around Teaching
Then came monthly faculty meetings. The agendas were full—advising, committees, accreditation, grants, publications—but teaching strategies? Nowhere. Even the needs of online students rarely came up.
In higher ed, it seemed, everyone was simply expected to lecture, grade, and keep moving.
I found it strange.
K–12 teachers are required to do ongoing professional development to keep their licenses. Was there some mythical “teaching oasis” where academics arrived fully formed, needing no further growth? I couldn’t wrap my head around it…which brings me back to that “forced to teach” comment.
The Researcher’s Dilemma
If research is your heartbeat and teaching is a requirement, how do you juggle the two? That question caused me to put myself in the shoes of anyone experiencing that angst. I thought about how I would feel if I had been on the tenure track, having to publish consistently, when all I wanted to do was master the art of teaching. I realized that what happens in higher ed is the exact flip flop of what happens in K-12.
So, another question came to mind: How do academics who prefer doing research commit to designing meaningful learning experiences when falling back on the lecture format is easier?
I am sure it is a considerable feat.
But, I believe most researchers still want to be good teachers. They just need a growth plan that doesn’t derail their research goals.
Can you relate? Is that how you feel?
Is it something that you have wanted to say but have decided to keep it to yourself?
Have you found yourself choosing research over teaching, when the chips fall where they may, even though you still desire to improve your teaching skills?
Why Reflective Practice Is the Answer
That’s where reflective practice changes the game. It’s not busywork—it’s a strategic tool for improving in every area of your professional life. It keeps you connected to your teaching while fueling your research and service.
Skip the culture of “good enough.” You deserve to be whole—stimulated by research, inspired by teaching, and anchored by purpose.
How The Mindful Academic Challenge Fits In
This realization is exactly why I created The Mindful Academic Challenge.
For 16 weeks, you’ll follow a simple, structured process to reflect on what’s working, what’s not, what you need, and what you’re ready to change.
It’s your private space to document ideas, struggles, and wins—a gift from you to you.
Here’s What’s Included:
- A Simple System: The Week in Review—one day a week dedicated to reflection
- A Structured Timeframe: 16 weeks (one semester or two mini-sessions)
- A Support System: Weekly reminders with inspiration
- A Community: Optional co-writing sessions every Saturday at 12 p.m. (EST)
All you need to do is decide you deserve this, grab your journal, and join the mailing list.
Choose Your Journal:
Even if teaching was not your first love, it can still be a rewarding part of your career.
It just takes intention—and I’ve built the framework to help you make it happen. 😊