Imagine starting your semester by asking your students, “Who inspired you as a child or teen? What lessons did they offer?” Or ending the course with this question: “What kind of world would you like to leave behind for future generations? How can you start to shape that world now?” Drawn from NetVUE’s Conversation Cards, these questions have set the stage for community-building in our gateway course for the English major at St. Nobert College. It may feel like such conversations are off topic, even a tangent. But we—Deirdre, the course’s professor, and Caroline, her student—give you permission to do this. We assure you that it will pay off.
Deirdre: One of the biggest—and most damaging—myths about discerning a calling is that an individual must independently “figure out” a singular path and follow it seamlessly. But vocation is not a singular act. It does not occur in a vacuum. We know it happens best—and perhaps only—as a process embedded within a community that reflects back our gifts; such a community calls us to the work of the world. As the essays in Called Beyond Ourselves: Vocation and the Common Good remind us, context matters—purpose is relational and responsive.
In the English program at St. Norbert, we used to believe we could do this work outside the classroom: in conversations in our offices with students, in advising sessions, in programs about graduate school, or in workshops with our majors and our career services colleagues. But these efforts were simply not relational enough to guide our students in a holistic way. The shared work in our gateway course, which we’ve described in our previous posts, has enhanced our students’ vocational discussions, embedding them in structured and substantial classroom work.
How do we set the stage for vocational discernment in this course? What concrete steps have we taken to foster this sense of community?
- Individual conferences: In a 10-15 minute “get-to-know-you” meeting with me, we review a goal-setting essay the students write and launch the semester with intentional connection.
- Meeting with other mentors in the major: Each student meets with a more advanced student who works in our writing center to review one of their essays. The mentoring they receive is almost more valuable than the actual writing skills they gain.
- Seating arrangement matters: Even in the tightest of classrooms, we typically sit in a semi-circle. Facing each other—rather than the back of a stranger’s head—makes for better conversation.
- No strangers here: I use the first few minutes of class to ask students to re-introduce themselves and respond to silly questions, such as, “What was your favorite superhero when you were little?” Then I ask if anyone can name everyone in the class. Typically, at least one student can name everyone before I can!
- Make these gestures obvious and show their value: I highlight these exercises, telling students that they need to use each other’s names throughout the semester. I let them know that it matters to me that they know and trust each other.
- Require a few events outside of class: Even as we honor the many responsibilities students have, this kind of engagement allows them to connect to each other in a new way. Don’t save these events until the end of the semester. Less-structured interactions foster deeper conversation when they arrive back in the classroom.
- Student-led discussion: Working with a peer outside class breaks down barriers. But even more importantly, the power dynamics shift as I step away from facilitating, and they support one another in discussion.
Caroline: This course’s focus on support and community-building, along with the events I attended with other majors and minors, were essential and deeply personal for me. After a difficult experience my first semester, when a peer harshly criticized me for expressing my opinion, I began this course hesitant and unsure of my place in the major. I had become guarded, afraid of voicing my thoughts. This course helped me find my voice again. The intentional community-building efforts were not just add-ons; they were foundational to my growth. From day one, small but consistent practices—round-robin introductions, seating in a semi-circle, and light-hearted name games—helped establish trust and familiarity.
I found the one-on-one conferences with my professor especially meaningful. These individual meetings created a space where I felt seen and supported, even before I had spoken in class. She invited us to meet with her throughout the semester, at any stage of the writing process, and as many times as we needed. That openness, combined with her encouragement, helped me rebuild confidence. In one conversation, when I shared my hesitation about speaking in class, she said, “Don’t let an insecure person silence your voice.” That moment stuck with me. It was a turning point, because someone I respected reminded me that my voice mattered. Little by little, I started speaking up more.
What made this class so effective, though, was the way the community extended beyond the classroom. I made a key connection when I met with a writing center consultant, an advanced English major who offered not only writing help but also insight into the major. This peer mentorship gave me a glimpse of what growth could look like, and it helped me imagine my own future. Later, that consultant recommended me for a writing center position, which opened up new friendships, opportunities, and learning experiences. That encouragement meant a lot, especially coming from someone I admired within the department. It’s one of the clearest examples of how the intentional community-building in this class had lasting ripple effects.
The impact extended even further into my time in the major. When I participated in undergraduate research, I found myself equipped with the skills and mindset to build meaningful connections. I had already encountered to two of my research peers in classes or at the writing center, but it wasn’t until that summer that we truly became friends. Our conversations about research, vocation, and literature extended beyond the seminar room and into late-night talks and casual lunches. Those friendships became some of the most enriching of my college experience, and I know I was able to step into those relationships because of the foundation laid in this gateway class.
These experiences helped me reimagine what learning in community could look like. They also prepared me for future classes in the major that rely heavily on discussion, like the seminar course I’m taking this semester. I now feel more equipped to contribute meaningfully, not just because I’ve gained confidence, but because I know how vital shared trust is in those environments. Looking back, I realize that what seemed like the “un-graded” or less academic parts of the course were actually the most formative. They showed me that learning, especially vocational exploration, is not a solitary process but unfolds in relationships—through conversation, encouragement, and shared curiosity. And for that, I’m deeply grateful.
We began this series of posts with the context of challenges in higher education, asserting that embedding vocation within a gateway course can be a source of hope for students and faculty alike. We’ve found that the most rewarding part of this work has been our grounding in community. Striking the delicate balance between self-reflective conversation and rigorous academic preparation has become the hallmark of our students’ first forays into this shared endeavor. By introducing our students to the calling of the guilds that are our professional communities, we just might help them find their ways to becoming themselves.
Deirdre Egan-Ryan is the director of faculty development at St. Norbert College outside of Green Bay, WI, where she is also professor of English. She is a NetVUE Faculty Fellow and was part of the inaugural cohort of NetVUE’s Teaching Vocational Exploration Seminar. Her essay, “Community-Based Pedagogy, Literary Studies and Vocation,” appears in Cultivating Vocation in Literary Studies and grew out of her years directing the program in academic service-learning and community engagement at St. Norbert. Her many vocations include rescuing overlooked big dogs and laughing with her teenage sons.
Caroline Van Sistine is a rising senior at St. Norbert College. A double major in English and sociology, she is interested in gender, race, intersectionality, and vocation in modern literature. She works as a consultant in the St. Norbert Writing Center and also interns at The Green Bay Press Times. Last past summer, she was awarded a Summer Undergraduate Research Fellowship and worked with Deirdre Egan-Ryan on researching narratives of vocational flourishing in modern Black literature. A former gymnast, Caroline discovered one of her vocational passions for reading novels as she rehabilitated from an ankle injury.
To read the previous posts in this series by Deirdre and Caroline, click here.