These are uncertain times (cut back to many of our emails and statements during COVID). As higher education professionals, especially those of us who care deeply and value the work of diversity, equity, and inclusion—or who hold the very identities being challenged—we find ourselves at a crossroads. With increasing restrictions on DEI initiatives and the lack of clarity regarding what, who, and how to remain compliant, it’s easy to feel discouraged, frustrated, or even concerned for the future of our work. The landscape is ever-changing, but I know for certain that our motivation remains consistent for this work: to develop and support students and members at all stages of membership to have a positively life-changing fraternal experience.
But let’s be clear: our organizations have never depended on permission. In times of uncertainty and challenge, the Founders of our organizations banded together to think differently about architecting an experience for togetherness often while facing a resistance to their existence. Later, we joined those very organizations they worked hard to build, and by joining, we became equipped to honor and value their perseverance. As we sit here today with these challenges, we must remember that value and our ability to persevere. Many of us will have to balance the burden of holding true to policies or directives that we fundamentally disagree with, while others may have more ability to continue with the business as normal. This dissonance will likely challenge our peers and our field as a whole but though our ability to persevere and care for one another the road ahead will not be impossible to travel together.
So, how can we move forward together?
First, we care for each other. The weight of this moment is real, and we need to acknowledge it—not just in hushed hallway conversations but in real, tangible ways. Check in on your colleagues. Create spaces of support, whether through formal gatherings, casual coffee chats, FaceTime calls or whatever. Offer grace, encouragement, and solidarity, because none of us should be doing this work in a vacuum.
Second, we get creative. The history of change is filled with moments where the work had to shift, adapt, and continue under new constraints. Maybe the words have changed, but the mission remains. We can embed equity-minded practices into leadership development, student success initiatives, and faculty support. We can mentor, advocate, and uplift—whether the work is labeled under the umbrella of inclusion or simply what’s right. Innovation is at the center of our work now and you have the skills and tools to think outside of any box, just keep pressing on.
Third, we remember why we do this. Students—especially those most vulnerable—are watching how we navigate this moment. They need to know that they still belong, that they are still worth fighting for, and that education remains a space where they can dream, grow, and thrive. If we show up for them, we equip them to do the same for the next generation. Our legacy lives on in our work now more than ever.
And finally, we remind ourselves that this is a marathon, not a sprint. Burnout won’t serve the work, and it certainly won’t serve us. Rest is not retreat—it is fuel for the road ahead. Find moments to breathe, to laugh, to hold onto joy, because that, too, is essential. It is okay to have bad days and feel like moving forward isn’t an option. That is one day in your world and you will have many more to make progress and restore your belief in yourself and our work.
Friends, we are in this together. We always have been. AFA is about relationships and how those friendships make us better professionals and humans. Together, we will continue to push forward—not just for the work, but for each other and our students. Remember the words of the great Ted Lasso, “I believe in belief” Persistence begins with belief not just the outcome but the process and ourselves.
