Caring educators know how challenging it can be to discover what works best for student learning. We experiment with practices to support both academic success and general well-being. We read report after report, study after study, trying to understand where today’s students thrive – and where they fall short. The work of teaching and supporting students is rewarding, but it’s also complicated, often messy, and filled with uncertainty.
One of the most critical and often overlooked spaces for addressing these needs is in our everyday interactions with students. If institutions can meaningfully invest in the people who engage with students daily, we can have a tremendous impact on student persistence and success. In my view, that’s where the research on mattering comes in.
Mattering, the idea that others depend on us and care about our well-being, is a powerful concept in life and learning. Intellectual mattering, introduced by Harriet Schwartz (2013, 2019), takes this further: it’s about knowing that your ideas matter, that what you contribute to learning matters.
When I found Schwartz’s work on mattering, it changed everything for me. It gave me language for something I had long felt but hadn’t fully articulated: students need to know that what they think and contribute matters. And when we build that into our everyday work – in classrooms, advising offices, student service centers, and online spaces – it transforms not just how students feel, but how they learn.
I started applying this intentionally because I kept noticing how students light up when something they said touched a professor or advisor, made them think, or shifted a conversation. When a professor says, “That is a really important question,” or “I hadn’t thought of that before,” students feel it: I matter here. My thinking matters here.
As I built intellectual mattering into my daily practice, my work made more sense. The messiness of teaching and advising felt a bit more manageable, even right. It made me a better professor, advisor, and administrator because I was more deeply engaged and more in tune with the individuals I served. They were, after all, the point of my professional existence. And they did matter – to me and to others.
This is especially true for students who are marginalized in some way including first-generation students, students from lower socioeconomic backgrounds, students of color, and adult students. These are groups who often wonder if they belong in college at all.
For example, non-traditional-age students regularly reconsider their role as students. As Carol Kasworm (2008) explains, “Because adults have competing lives, hopes, and realities, each semester of college involvement represents either a renegotiation or adaptation of themselves and their lives” (p. 29).
And transitions can be especially challenging for students. Every new semester, every new class, every new professor can bring the same underlying questions: Am I important? Do I matter to anyone here? Do my ideas matter?
The good news is that practices to apply mattering are learnable, and importantly, they are not performative. Authenticity is key. I’m not encouraging faculty or staff to act interested in students’ ideas. I’m talking about noticing what students say and do and making sure that moment doesn’t pass without naming it.
It can be as simple as changing a sentence in a syllabus to invite connection: “I’m always happy to discuss your ideas or concerns, so please reach out to set a time to talk,” instead of the standard “My office hours are…” It might sound like this in class: “Josie just asked an important question. Let’s look into that more next week.” There are also more formal ways to apply mattering in curriculum design, assignments, and student programming.
In my view, using tools of mattering isn’t just a personal choice – it’s part of the job. No one does this perfectly, and we don’t expect students to be perfect either. But when this practice is applied across an institution, we can maximize belonging and minimize those painful moments when students feel disregarded or like they don’t fit.
Ways to apply mattering in your work starting now:
- Use the language of mattering. Small wording choices in syllabi, emails, and conversations can signal that student contributions matter.
- Call out the contribution. When students offer meaningful ideas, say it out loud.
- Design for it. Structure assignments and programs to connect students’ ideas to course and campus goals.
- Focus on transitions. Pay particular attention to students during “firsts” – first weeks, first major assignments, first advising meetings.
- Recognize small moments. Hallway conversations and brief check-ins often matter most.
- Advocate for support. Institutions must invest in the people doing this work – through training, fair workloads, and recognition.
Works Mentioned
Kasworm, C. E. (2008). Emotional challenges of adult learners in higher education. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 2008(120), 27–34.
Schwartz, H. L. (2019). Connected teaching: Relationship, power, and mattering in higher education. Stylus Publishing.
Schwartz, H. L. (2013). Dinner at Fitzwilly’s: Intellectual mattering in developmental relationships. In N. Dominguez & Y. Gandert (Eds.), Sixth annual mentoring conference proceedings: Impact and effectiveness of developmental relationships. University of New Mexico.
Jennifer Snyder-Duch, Ph.D. is an educator and consultant with over 25 years of experience as a professor, advisor, and administrator in public, private, and community college settings. She brings a relational, values-based approach to her work, with a focus on community-engaged learning, student voice and advocacy, and human-centered strategies that support connection, belonging, and student success.
