George Kuh spent most of his career at Indiana University, where he retired as Chancellor’s Professor 16 years ago. He taught the first course I took in the IU Higher Education and Student Affairs master’s degree program. George remains one of the most productive, cited, accomplished and respected higher education researchers. Thousands of colleges and universities across the U.S. and around the world have benefited from his scholarly contributions—perhaps most especially from the National Survey of Student Engagement.
Seeing what NSSE has become amazes me. It also inspired me to create the National Assessment of Collegiate Campus Climates, a suite of quantitative surveys that have been administered to nearly two million students and employees over the past seven years. This is just one of numerous ways in which George’s extraordinary example has been an incredibly useful blueprint for my career. On this last day in his 70s, I honor him by reflecting on just a few other lessons and gifts that he has generously offered to higher education and me. I start in a somewhat embarrassing place.
Seeing Brilliance in Sleeping Students
When I arrived to Indiana, I was not yet aware that George was one of our field’s biggest rock stars. Had I known, perhaps I would not have fallen asleep in his class most weeks. Colleagues from my cohort still tease me about this. There is a chance that George saw incredible potential in me, even when my eyes were closed. To be sure, he was a terrific teacher—the problem was not him, it was me.
Upon reflection, it does not surprise me that a true expert on student engagement understood the normality and reasonableness of first-semester graduate school transition challenges. Some professors deem sleeping students unserious. Thankfully, George did not give up on me in this way. When I subsequently approached him about being my mentor, he generously agreed and afforded me opportunities to represent myself differently than I had in that first class. I think of him when I have students who doze off, come late and miss deadlines in my courses. I extend to them the same grace that was shown to me.
Being Up for the Challenge
In that same first-semester course, I disregarded directions that were clearly communicated in George’s syllabus. For one assignment, we were instructed to choose from a small number of preselected topics that were covered in the textbook and write a more expanded paper about one of them. I wrote about something that was not on the list without first seeking approval from George or our teaching assistant. The erasure of historically Black colleges and universities in the book deeply troubled me, so I wrote about that.
The TA brought to my attention that this was not one of the options. I told him that this topic was much more important to me than were any of the others. He let me know that he would have to speak with our professor about it. Both George and the TA read my paper. Despite my rebelliousness, they awarded me an A. More valuable than the grade was George’s written feedback to me. It was extensive, substantive and affirming. I could tell that brilliance mattered more to him than did strict compliance. Many rigid professors give failing grades for ignoring instructions. Today, students in my classrooms benefit from what I learned from George about the value of flexibility and the willingness to be challenged without retaliation.
AI: Actual Intelligence
Professor Kuh was my dissertation chair. Consistent with my experiences in his classrooms and work with him on other projects, he turned around feedback on dissertation chapter drafts within 24 hours. There were always numerous comments and helpful edits; he had no doubt read every word. The speed and quality of his feedback mesmerized me.
He has always been this way with email, too. Most messages I have sent him received replies within minutes. For 23 years now, my students have desperately expected this of me, but I keep failing miserably. In honor of George, I will keep trying. Also praiseworthy is that George knows a lot about an expansive range of higher education topics. This explains, at least in part, how he is able to respond so instantly and substantively to students, higher education practitioners, journalists and others. I think of him as the ChatGPT predecessor for our field—except he rarely gets it wrong and requires fewer clarifying prompts to deliver maximally useful guidance.
Everything, Everywhere, All at Once
George served as the 1996–97 president of the Association for the Study of Higher Education. I met him one year later; there was still a buzz about his successful presidency. I did not know what ASHE was, but it was clear that being elected to lead it was a huge deal. I could not have imagined then that I would be afforded the privilege of serving as ASHE president exactly 20 years after my mentor. I understood that it was not popularity alone that got him elected. George had served in a range of volunteer capacities for ASHE and presented dozens of papers at its conferences.
I remember the first time I attended the ASHE annual meeting: My rock-star professor’s name was everywhere. Then it happened again when I went to NASPA, ACPA, AERA and AAC&U conferences. And again as I read essays he wrote and journalists’ articles quoting him in Inside Higher Ed, The Chronicle of Higher Education and other media outlets. When I peruse rosters of recipients of our field’s most significant awards and honors, his name is almost always there. He has always balanced publishing in top peer-reviewed journals with writing for About Campus, Change, Liberal Education, Trusteeship and other magazines that thousands of practitioners read.
In addition to modeling what extraordinary field engagement looks like, George also taught me the value of remaining in tune with what is happening on campuses. Last I checked, he had consulted with more than 250 colleges and universities—surely, that number is now much greater. He knows so much about higher education because he has long been all over the country simultaneously learning from and strengthening institutions. Like AI, the more of this he did, the smarter he became.
Lastly, George taught me the importance of being home. Despite frequently traveling to campuses, conferences and important meetings, it felt like he was always present and available. Indiana University benefited from his service as associate dean of the faculties, a campuswide position. He also served as a center director, department chair and associate dean for academic affairs in the IU School of Education. Senior administrators across campus frequently called on him, and he served on several committees.
Most importantly, he always had time to meet with students and supervise dissertations. Because of his superb example, I have consistently served the University of Pennsylvania and the University of Southern California in similar ways. Almost always saying yes to invitations to contribute to my home institution is a healthy habit that I learned from George.
On the eve of his 80th birthday, I publicly thank my teacher, role model and dissertation chair for everything he taught me. And on behalf of the entire field, I applaud Professor Kuh for all the ways he has strengthened colleges and universities.
Shaun Harper is University Professor and Provost Professor of Education, Business and Public Policy at the University of Southern California, where he holds the Clifford and Betty Allen Chair in Urban Leadership. His most recent book is titled Let’s Talk About DEI: Productive Disagreements About America’s Most Polarizing Topics.
