When I began my career in fraternity/sorority life, I assumed the core challenges would be those outlined in every job description: recruitment, retention, risk management, and officer development. I expected long nights at events, endless policy reviews, and balancing the competing priorities of students, alumni, and administrators. What I did not anticipate was how my own identity as a professional of color advising historically white fraternities and sororities would profoundly shape the way I approached my work.
This realization came to a head during my first year advising an Interfraternity Council community. In many ways, it was a traditional fraternity environment: rich with history, rituals, and the unwritten codes that often define fraternity membership. As I navigated my new role, I quickly became aware of the subtle, and sometimes not-so-subtle, ways students reacted to me differently than my colleagues. Questions about my credibility as a fraternity member, small jokes about my presence in the room, or students hesitating to trust my guidance weren’t always malicious, but they were persistent Research affirms that these daily encounters mirror the cumulative effects of racial battle fatigue, where microaggressions and stereotypes weigh heavily on professionals of color in higher education (Smith, 2004).
At first, I tried to brush these moments aside. I convinced myself that staying focused on the task, helping chapters plan programs, respond to conduct issues, and celebrate their successes, was what mattered most. Over time, I realized that ignoring those dynamics was taking a toll. I was carrying the weight of not only being an advisor, but also a cultural interpreter, bridge, and often the only professional voice of color at the table. Validation Theory highlights how critical it is for students and professionals to feel seen, affirmed, and valued in their work (Rendón, 1994). I had not yet extended to myself.
The pivotal moment came during a chapter conduct hearing related to hazing. A student challenged my authority in the room asking, “How would you even understand what our experience is?” The silence that followed was heavy. For the first time, I paused and instead of rushing past the comment; I acknowledged the question and responded with something I had been holding back. “You’re right. I don’t share all of your experiences. But I do understand what it means to be a part of a fraternity, and I understand the responsibility of caring for each other in ways that align with your values. That’s why I am here, to help you succeed on those terms.”
That exchange shifted everything. Students began to see me less as an outsider enforcing rules and more as someone invested in their growth, even if our backgrounds were different. It also changed me; I realized that my identity was not a barrier to my effectiveness; it was a source of perspective and resilience. By leaning into my lived experience, I could build authentic relationships with students and model what it means to navigate difference with honesty and care.
Looking back, I wish I could tell my younger self not to downplay the impact of identity in this work. I would tell myself: “Your story matters. Students may not always understand it, but it shapes the way you show up for them, and that’s powerful.” The lesson wasn’t about perfection; it was about presence. Being fully myself, even in spaces where I felt like the only one, gave students permission to wrestle with their own identities and assumptions. Community Cultural Wealth underscores this point: our backgrounds equip us with forms of capital, navigational, social, and resistant, that must strengthen our work (Yosso, 2005).
The impact extended beyond individual relationships. As I grew more confident in naming and addressing issues of inclusion, I found ways to influence the broader fraternity and sorority culture on campus. Programs were designed with more attention to cultural awareness, and students began to articulate the importance of belonging in new ways. Some even shared that working with me shifted how they thought about leadership in their own chapters.
Of course, none of this happened in isolation. Professional partners and mentors played a critical role in helping me process these experiences. Trusted colleagues reminded me that it was okay to be frustrated, and mentors encouraged me to see these challenges as opportunities to lead differently. Their support gave me the strength to turn what felt like marginalization into a catalyst for professional growth.
Today, as I continue my journey in fraternity and sorority advising, I carry that pivotal moment with me. It reminds me that our work is not just about managing policies or supporting programs. It’s about showing up authentically, acknowledging the complexities of our identities, and helping students to do the same.
For those in the field, my hope is that you never underestimate the significance of who you are in the work you do. Your identity, your story, and your presence are not side notes to your professional practice, they are central to it. And when you embrace that truth, you not only guide students through their own growth, you transform the culture of fraternity and sorority life itself.
References
Rendón, L.I. (1994) Validating culturally diverse students: Toward a new model of learning and student development. Innovative Higher Education, 19(1), 33 – 51. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF01191156
Smith, W. A. (2004). Black faculty coping with racial battle fatigue: the campus racial climate in post-civil rights era. In D. Cleveland (ED.), A long way to go: Conversations about race by African American faculty and graduate students (pp. 171 – 190). Peter Lang.
Yosso T. J. (2005). Whose culture has capital? A critical race theory discussion of community cultural wealth. Race Ethnicity and Education, 8(1). 69-91. https://doi.org/10.1080/1361332052000341006
Author Bio:
Adam Joiner serves as the Assistant Director for Fraternity and Sorority Life at the University of Texas at Dallas. He has over seven years of experience advising fraternity and sorority communities at Texas State University, Auburn University, Southern Methodist University, and most recently as the Membership Engagement Coordinator at Order of Omega International Headquarters. Joiner is also a board member on the AFA Foundation Board of Directors and loves to give back to the Association of Fraternity and Sorority Advisors. He is pursuing his doctorate in Higher Education Leadership at Texas Christian University, with a dissertation focused on the lived experiences of men and women of color advising historically white fraternities and sororities.