Almost a decade ago, a student emailed after finishing one of my classes. I still have that email. She wrote:
“After the first day of class, I walked out and thought, ‘this class is going to be impossible — and I can’t even text my friends during it!’… The no‑technology rule was definitely annoying at times, but I actually focused and was engaged in what you were saying. I think I asked more questions in this class than I have in my entire college career.”
At the time, I read it as feedback on my teaching. Today, I see it as something more: a reminder that the moments students carry with them are often shaped as much by the learning environment we create as by the material itself.
That insight has only grown more meaningful to me in my role as director, where I see the same quiet influence playing out across our School every day.
Over the years, I’ve remained connected with many former students: those who took my classes, worked as research assistants, or just stopped by my office looking for advice. What brings me the greatest joy is seeing how those accumulated moments have subtly shaped where they ended up.
One student who dreamed of working at the intersection of marketing and user experience design (UXD) in New York City is now doing just that. She is one of several graduates who discovered UXD while at Ohio State and have gone on to build careers in the field, including at companies like TikTok and JPMorganChase. Another alum interested in the intersection of communication technology and law is now a JD candidate at a top law school. And a third, who once talked about wanting to work on electric vehicles, has found a place at Rivian.
None of these outcomes can be traced to a single conversation, a particular class, or a formal mentoring relationship. They grew instead from accumulated moments that often feel small as they happen: thoughtful feedback, honest conversations, encouragement at the right time.
I see this same pattern across our School. A colleague recently asked students to reflect on how they used communication skills to help their peers outside the classroom. Their examples were simple—listening carefully to a friend in a difficult moment or helping a classmate navigate Ohio State’s notoriously complicated course registration system—but they mattered. They helped students see the real impact of communicating well.
That same kind of quiet mentorship is evident across our alumni community.
Alumni stay connected to our students in many meaningful ways: meeting with The Lantern staff to help strengthen reporting and storytelling; speaking at PRSSA meetings and offering candid feedback on student pitches; responding to emails, reviewing resumes, or sharing hard‑earned perspectives about the realities of the profession. Members of our Advancement Board are part of this work, but they are far from the only ones doing it.
What these efforts share is not scale or formality, but intention. Alumni are taking students seriously. They listen to them, and challenge them, helping them see possibilities they may not yet see themselves.
Today’s students are navigating a communication landscape that is fast‑moving and often unclear. Career paths are rarely linear. In that environment, mentorship does not need to be elaborate to be powerful. Often, it is simply modeling how to listen well, think critically, and communicate with care.
What gives me confidence about the future of our School is not only what happens in our classrooms, but the people who stay connected to it. Alumni who continue to share their time and perspective in ways that shape students’ confidence and sense of direction.
If there is a common thread in these stories, it is this: mentorship often happens in moments that don’t announce themselves. But over time, those moments add up, shaping careers and, just as importantly, shaping how people see themselves.
I am deeply grateful to our faculty, staff, and alumni who are already doing this work, quietly and consistently. Your presence makes a lasting difference.