Abstract
Studies suggest students are more likely to disclose personal challenges to postsecondary instructors who are public about living with mental illness and/or neurodivergence. This study explored how six postsecondary instructors who live openly with mental illness and/or neurodivergence in Western Canada experienced students’ disclosures of personal challenges. Data from reflective narratives, focus group interviews, and open-ended questionnaires revealed that students’ revelations impose substantial demands on instructors living with mental illness and/or neurodivergence, placing them at risk of compassion fatigue, vicarious trauma, and burnout. However, receiving and responding to students’ disclosures also proved professionally and personally rewarding.
Mental health challenges on postsecondary campuses have become a pressing concern in Canada (Hamza et al., 2021). Although student wellbeing has dominated these discussions, postsecondary instructors, 1 mental health has attracted increasing attention (Bourgeault et al., 2022). In a survey of Canadian postsecondary instructors, 64% of respondents reported having experienced mental health issues at some point in their careers (Mantler et al., 2021). Moreover, 24% of Canadian academics claim they experience considerable work-related psychological stress (Catano et al., 2010), and burnout occurs more frequently among university staff than the general working population (Guthrie et al. (2017).
Several postsecondary instructors have written autoethnographic accounts of their experiences of disclosing 3 mental illnesses 2 to their students (including depression, anxiety, social anxiety, bipolar disorder, and complex post-traumatic stress disorder) (Campbell, 2018; Koch, 2022; Quijada, 2021; Skogen, 2012; Whitten, 2022). Studies have found that students perceive postsecondary instructors who disclose personal information as more empathetic, approachable, and supportive (Hosek & Thompson, 2009). Recently, Mohammed et al. (2024) reported that postsecondary students felt their instructor’s disclosure of depression made them more approachable. However, it is unclear how such perceptions relate to student disclosures of personal challenges or requests for support. Skogen (2012) suggested that students might be more likely to disclose personal challenges to instructors who are public about their own experiences with mental illness or neurodivergence. This supposition aligns with the reciprocal disclosure effect, which suggests that acts of self-disclosure often elicit reciprocal disclosures 4 from others (Sprecher et al., 2013). However, receiving student disclosures of personal challenges has been associated with negative affect and strain among postsecondary educators at large (Hayes-Smith et al., 2010). Given the challenges they already face in academic workplace (Fox & Gasper, 2020; Mellifont, 2021; Quijada, 2021; Skogen, 2012), understanding this added complexity will help recruit, support, and retain these diverse instructors in academic workplaces (Davenport et al., 2022; Kaplan et al., 2018).
Working with a group of instructors at a research-intensive Canadian university, we investigated the following research question: how do postsecondary instructors who are public about being neurodivergent or living with mental illness experience students’ disclosures of personal challenges? This included attention to (1) the nature of students’ disclosures, (2) how instructors made sense of and responded to these revelations, and (3) how these interactions influenced instructors’ perceived wellbeing.
Literature Review
People with mental illnesses and those who are neurodivergent must decide whether to disclose these (potentially) concealable experiences and identities from others (Meluch & Starcher, 2020). Across diverse professions, perceived stigma and experiences of discrimination have been found to deter employees from disclosing these lived experiences to colleagues and employers (Brouwers et al., 2019; Price et al., 2017). Deterrents include perceptions of enhanced vulnerability within ableist institutions, the fear of losing credibility with students, and the threat of discrimination in hiring and promotion activities (Fox & Gasper, 2020; Koch, 2022; Quijada, 2021; Skogen, 2012; Whitten, 2022).
Nevertheless, some postsecondary instructors do share personal experiences of mental illness or neurodiversity on campus (e.g., Price et al., 2017). Such disclosures may be motivated by the need for workplace accommodations or benefits (Mellifont, 2021), a desire to combat stigma and raise awareness of mental health and diversity issues (Koch, 2022; Meluch & Starcher, 2020; Skogen, 2012), or the intention to act as role models for students (Campbell, 2018; Joseph et al., 2022). Simultaneously, we know that postsecondary students regularly share personal challenges with postsecondary instructors, including struggles with finances, mental and physical health, interpersonal relationships, experiencing homelessness, immigration, stalking, assault, abuse, and loss (Easton & Van Laar, 1995; Ethan & Seidel, 2013). For example, Easton and Van Laar (1995) reported that 97% of British postsecondary instructors attested to “counselling” one or more students who had shared distressing experiences. Emerging evidence also suggests that students might be more apt to share personal struggles with postsecondary instructors who disclose mental illness or neurodiversity in the classroom (Skogen, 2012). The reciprocal disclosure effect states that one person’s self-disclosure often elicits self-disclosure from others (Sprecher et al., 2013). Indeed, postsecondary students have reported that instructors’ disclosures of private information (e.g., sexual orientation, illness experiences, substance abuse challenges) foster relational closeness; increase perceptions of empathy, approachability, and willingness to provide accommodations; promote help-seeking behavior, and frequently elicit reciprocal disclosures from students (Burns, 2021; Hosek & Thompson, 2009).
Given past research (e.g., Burns, 2021; Hosek & Thompson, 2009), it seems reasonable to assume that postsecondary instructors who share personal experiences of neurodiversity or mental illness are exposed to more student disclosures of personal challenges than their non-disclosing or neurotypical peers. However, instructors may not always feel comfortable or qualified to receive students’ disclosures or assist them with personal challenges, including experiencing homelessness, immigration challenges, panic attacks, interpersonal violence, suicide, or loss (Ethan & Seidel, 2013). Interviews with American college instructors revealed many were reluctant to discuss or address students’ mental health concerns (White & LaBelle, 2019). Many felt unqualified to address these issues effectively and ethically, and some were concerned about the additional emotional labor. Lipson and colleagues (2021) similarly reported that although faculty members felt they needed to help students address mental health concerns, they also believed they had insufficient training and institutional support.
As mental illness and neurodiversity rates increase among postsecondary students (Dwyer et al., 2023; Linden et al., 2021), students’ disclosures of personal challenges to instructors represent an important area of basic and applied inquiry. As Hamilton and Petty (2023) noted, neurodivergent students and those living with mental illness can succeed in postsecondary school as long as they are well-supported throughout their education. However, the authors note that high attrition rates suggest these students do not always connect with adequate academic supports. Indeed, few postsecondary students seek help when experiencing psychological and emotional challenges (Eisenberg et al., 2007; Kisch et al., 2005). Perceived stigma is also a common barrier to help-seeking (Moghimi et al., 2023). Studies suggest that postsecondary students may have an “exaggerated view” of public stigma toward mental illness, which can negatively influence their self-perceptions and willingness to seek support (Eisenberg et al., 2009). Students may also be deterred from help-seeking by a lack of knowledge, negative experiences, or barriers related to cost, wait times, time constraints, and cultural understandings (Moghimi et al., 2023).
Instructors who are open about personal experiences of mental illness or neurodiversity in postsecondary classrooms implicitly help to normalize mental health challenges. We know that students perceive postsecondary instructors who share personal information, including mental illness, as more empathetic, approachable, and willing to provide support and academic accommodations (Hosek & Thompson, 2009; Mohammed et al., 2024). It is unclear, however, how this group of postsecondary instructors experience reciprocal student disclosures or how these encounters impact their professional and personal wellbeing. Without this knowledge, we cannot fully appreciate the challenges faced by postsecondary instructors who experience mental illness or neurodiversity or anticipate their need for proactive and/or reactive support when receiving student disclosures. The present article addresses these gaps by exploring how a group of Canadian postsecondary instructors who disclose mental illness and/or neurodiversity in the classroom understand and experience student disclosures of personal challenges. Implications for postsecondary teaching, instructors, and institutions are discussed.
Method
Interpretative phenomenological analysis is concerned with the detailed study of how people make sense of lived experiences (Eatough & Smith, 2017; Oxley, 2016), including those related to illness and diversity (Oxley, 2016) and psychological processes (Eatough & Smith, 2017; Smith et al., 2022). This approach values the specificity of individual experiences while simultaneously attending to similarities across cases and how these relate to contextual factors (Oxley, 2016).
IPA is grounded in three theoretical traditions: phenomenology, hermeneutics, and ideography (Smith et al., 2022). IPA shares with other phenomenological research approaches a focus on understanding experience (Eatough & Smith, 2017; Smith et al., 2022). However, its hermeneutic grounding suggests a movement away from attempts to reveal the “essence” of an experience in favor of understanding the meaning of lived experiences for particular people in specific contexts (Hefferon & Gil-Rodriguez, 2011). Hermeneutic phenomenology is explicitly interpretative. It approaches humans as meaning-makers and acknowledges that the researchers’ worldviews are inextricably intertwined with their interpretation of participants’ expressions of their experiences (Oxley, 2016; Smith et al., 2022). Finally, IPA is idiographic (Oxley, 2016; Smith et al., 2022), attending to the details of particular cases and eschewing attempts to establish universal claims. Without diminishing the significance of similarities or differences among cases, IPA attends to how personal circumstances, past experiences, or ethical aims might shape individual experience. Consequently, we focused on both the distinctness of particular cases and the patterns of meaning that emerged within the sample as a whole to produce an integrated, nuanced, and contextualized analysis of how instructors who are open about mental illness and/or neurodivergence in the classroom experience student disclosures of personal challenges (Eatough & Smith, 2017).
Participants
Six Canadian postsecondary instructors from a research-intensive university who disclose experiences of mental illnesses and/or neurodiversity to students were recruited via purposive and snowball sampling. Three participants were approached as they were widely known to speak openly about personal experiences of mental illness and neurodiversity on campus, and three more were added through snowball sampling. Though small, the sample aligned with IPA purposes (Smith et al., 2022), included enough participants to explore potential variations without overwhelming the research team with data (Oxley, 2016), and reflected the ideal size for focus group interviews (6-8 participants) (Krueger & Casey, 2015).
All participants were White and between 36 and 45 years old. Five were women and one was agender non-binary. Four identified as heterosexual, and two as 2SLGBTQIA+. Participants had been teaching for 5–15 years in varying positions, including Sessional Lecturer (n = 1), Without-term Lecturer (n = 2), Fixed-term Lecturer (n = 1), Assistant Professor (n = 1), and Associate Professor (n = 1). They worked in the departments of Education (n = 2), Health Sciences (n = 1), Social Sciences (n = 1), Engineering (n = 1), and Humanities (n = 1). Participating instructors described living with between two and six psychiatric conditions throughout their lives (M = 3.3, SD = 1.60), including generalized anxiety disorder (n = 4), major depressive disorder (n = 4), attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (n = 3), autism spectrum disorder (n = 1), bipolar disorder (n = 1), borderline personality disorder (n = 1), disordered eating (n = 1), dyslexia (n = 1), post-traumatic stress disorder (n = 1), and postpartum anxiety/depression (n = 1). One participant also reported being a suicide survivor. All participants had received formal psychiatric diagnoses, and three also lived with chronic physical illnesses/disabilities. Although a detailed discussion of how participants related to “mental illness” and “neurodivergence” is beyond the scope of this paper, participants held varied and complex understandings of their diagnoses concerning notions of pathology, impairment, advantage, and diversity. That said, all felt that mental illness and neurodivergence often proved disabling in academic contexts. Participants tended to refer to “mental illness” when speaking of psychological and neurological differences throughout the project. However, three considered themselves to be living with both “mental illness” (e.g., depression) and “neurodiversity” (e.g., identifying as an autist). When made by participants, distinctions between “mental illness” and “neurodivergence” are retained for the reader.
Data Collection
Data were collected using reflective narrative prompts, four semi-structured focus group interviews, and an open-ended questionnaire. Two weeks before each focus group meeting, participants responded to an open-ended reflective prompt (through SurveyMonkey) regarding the topic to be addressed at the upcoming meeting. The resulting narratives informed the semi-structured interview questions at subsequent focus group meetings, addressing specific aspects of living openly as a neurodiverse instructor or instructor living with mental illness on campus. Data for the current work explored experiences of disclosing mental illness and/or neurodivergence to students, peers, administrators, and campus leaders and also queried reciprocal disclosures. Questions included: “Are you ever surprised by the things students share with you?” and “Do you ever feel unprepared to deal with the things students share with you?”.
Though not as common as individual interviews, focus groups are increasingly employed in IPA studies (Montague et al., 2020) and can benefit studies of stigmatized groups and identities (Love et al., 2020). Each focus group interview involved a series of questions informed by existing literature, participants’ written reflections, and the study’s aims. For each question, participants took turns sharing their own experiences and understandings. Each question often led to several rounds of sharing as participants elaborated on their initial comments, frequently inspired by the statements and ideas of others. In this way, focus groups enabled the collection of personal experiences while also allowing participants to develop new insights by connecting with others and reflecting on how specific experiences might be shaped by local context, institutional realities, and personal circumstances (Montague et al., 2020). All focus groups lasted approximately 3 hours and were facilitated by a trained Research Assistant whose role was to read the displayed questions on the screen and move on to the next when all participants agreed they had nothing further to add regarding a specific question. Focus group meetings were audio recorded and later transcribed.
The research team also distributed an open-ended questionnaire to explore instructors’ experiences further and allow participants to share outside the focus group context. Hosted on SurveyMonkey, the questionnaire contained 23 open-ended questions about the nature of student disclosures of personal challenges and help-seeking behaviors, instructors’ responses to these revelations, and the impact of reciprocal disclosures on instructors’ wellbeing. The survey included questions such as, “What impact does hearing about students’ struggles have on you?” The questionnaire took, on average, 35 minutes to complete. Data from all sources were de-identified before analysis. Participants’ names were replaced with pseudonyms, and references to specific students or interactions were de-identified as needed (e.g., by removing disciplinary references or student gender signifiers). The study was approved by the University of Saskatchewan Research Ethics Board and all participants provided informed consent before data collection.
Analyses
Data were analyzed according to the IPA approach outlined by Smith et al. (2022). We began by immersing ourselves in the data, reading through all reflective narratives, focus group interview transcripts, and written questionnaire responses several times. Next, we regrouped the data associated with each participant and began the exploratory, descriptive coding of each case. We then undertook thematic analyses of each case, using the results of the exploratory coding process to identify emerging themes and organize these into broader superordinate themes and subthemes. Following the analysis of each case, we considered the relationship between participants’ accounts. This involved attention to how common or divergent themes and subthemes might be shaped by individual circumstances or broader social, political, cultural, or professional contexts and assessing how each case related to emerging group-level themes. This work was aided by attention to focus group discussions, where participants often noted how shared or divergent experiences might reflect different contexts and lived realities (Tomkins & Eatough, 2010).
Positionality
The research team was comprised of two instructors and one student from the same postsecondary institution as the participants. Grounded in psychology (first and second authors) and education (third author), disclosures of mental illness or neurodivergence in the classroom were of interest to team members, given their andragogical, social, and psycho-emotional implications. For the second and third authors, interest in this topic was also tied to personal experiences of mental illness and neurodivergence as academics. Both had engaged in various forms of mental illness and/or neurodiversity disclosure (to individual students and classes) in the past and have experienced many disclosures of personal challenges from students throughout their time as postsecondary instructors.
Recognizing that their own experiences and attitudes could both enrich and limit the study, several steps were taken to promote rigorous scholarship and the trustworthiness of interpretations (Creswell & Miller, 2000; Morrow, 2005; Smith et al., 2022). The research team engaged in reflexive discussions throughout the project as team members shared their thoughts, feelings, observations, and emerging understandings with one another and noted moments where the emerging data departed from their own preconceptions. The team also adopted a curious and flexible stance, ensuring the data was given room to “assert its own truth” (Gadamer, 1989, p. 269) against researcher foreconceptions. To avoid having their own assumptions and experiences overshadow those of participants, analytic processes were data-driven, and participants’ own words were used to generate and support key interpretations. Finally, as a collaborative process, the team sought consensus on analytic decisions, challenging one another to anchor emerging analyses within the data, identify potential biases, and consider alternative explanations for findings.
Findings
In the reflective narratives, focus group interviews, and open-ended questionnaires, all six postsecondary instructors (Andrea, Drew, Elizabeth, Helly, Janine, & May) spoke about receiving and responding to disclosures of personal challenges from students. They recalled many moments when students had shared personal challenges that were described as emotionally and psychologically difficult and often only somewhat related to academic concerns. Although all participants felt these revelations were reciprocal, based on their own disclosures of mental illness and neurodiversity in the classroom, they also attributed student disclosures of personal challenges to a variety of individual, interpersonal, and institutional factors. Participants also outlined how students’ disclosures influenced their own emotional, psychological, and professional wellbeing, both negatively and positively. In what follows, we describe instructors’ experiences of reciprocal student disclosures and consider how these events relate to experiences of burnout, vicarious trauma, and compassion fatigue among postsecondary instructors who live openly with mental illnesses and/or neurodiversity.
Types of Student Disclosures
Stressors
All six instructors described receiving student disclosures of common stressors, including mental and physical illness or injury, interpersonal challenges, and experiences of loss. For example, May stated that students often described how depression impacted their ability to complete coursework and manage university processes: “One student remained in the course and took a failure without withdrawing, as they attested to not having the capacity to deal with the pressure of dropping the course.” Instructors also recalled students sharing challenges related to serious physical injuries and illnesses, including brain injuries and cancer. Reflecting on a particularly memorable student, Helly noted, “I had a mature student disclose that they were living with a very serious form of cancer … I still think about them.” Student disclosures of interpersonal issues included difficulties with romantic relationships, legal battles, and parenting challenges. For example, May recalled a student who had revealed problems at home that were diminishing their school performance: “They had not been coping well with a recent divorce and mental health issues.” Student disclosures of loss were also common and highlighted the grief, stress, and financial burdens that students experienced following the death of a loved one. Four participants (Drew, Elizabeth, Helly, May) also mentioned student disclosures of less common stressors, including family responsibilities, serious financial challenges, food insecurity, unstable living conditions, and difficulties with work–school balance. For example, Elizabeth recalled a student who was struggling to provide for themselves while attending university: “They were taking five classes this term and working two full-time jobs … they almost checked into the hospital over the break because they hadn’t slept in days and were hallucinating.”
Traumatic Experiences
All six participants also reported student disclosures of traumatic experiences, including experiences of abuse, physical and mental health crises, and victimization. Five participants (all except Elizabeth) had experienced student disclosures of physical, verbal, sexual, domestic, or emotional abuse. Regarding the prevalence of such disclosures, Drew noted, “Other than physical illnesses, these are the kinds of stories that I hear the most … typing ‘abuse’ into my email search bar revealed several email threads I have had with students [on these topics].” Disclosures of life-threatening health issues were also prevalent. For example, May noted, “A student disclosed to me a series of lifetime medical traumas due to illness and surgeries … another diagnosis/impending surgery was causing them a great deal of difficulty.” Elizabeth also described, “A student disclosed previous attempts to die by suicide and that they were feeling very depressed and having suicidal ideation again.” All participants further recalled student disclosures of trauma stemming from discrimination, oppression, colonialism, racism, and other forms of structural inequity. For example, Drew recalled a student who had shared experiences of abuse in the Residential School System. Finally, all instructors had been privy to student revelations of traumatic loss. Helly, for example, recalled a student having relayed the loss of a close friend by suicide: “[they] found out that their friend had committed suicide … the person lived alone and had been hanging from the ceiling for several days [when they found them].” Though less common, disclosures of traumatic incarceration and experiences of homelessness were also noted.
Instructors’ Perceptions of Why Students Disclose
Instructors also reflected on why the students might have disclosed this information. They speculated that instructor openness, modeling, enhanced rapport, and students’ desire for emotional and practical support contributed to these interactions.
Instructor Openness
Five instructors (all except Drew) reported letting students know they were open to receiving student disclosures, although the nature of this openness varied. Janine described being broadly open to students sharing personal challenges and described reaching out to students she believed were in distress (i.e., those who missed classes or evidenced a deterioration in personal hygiene). She noted, “I email them and ask them how they’re doing and always say, ‘If you want to talk about it, come and see me’ or ‘[let me know] if you want me to put you in touch with services’.” As a mental health professional, May encouraged students to share their struggles in the classroom when they were relevant to course content. She stated, “I teach classes that are oriented around mental health, health, and wellbeing. And I encourage discussions about struggle in our courses if students are open to it.” However, May was quick to point out the boundaries that she established with students in terms of help-seeking: “I’m very clear about my role definition in terms of the classroom—my relationship with the students is as their educator, even though I am a mental health practitioner as well.” Elizabeth and Andrea explained that although they do not explicitly encourage students to disclose personal challenges, they frequently offer to connect students with support services. Finally, Helly urged students to be open about challenges that were affecting their course performance: “[I tell them] … ‘don’t sort of just sit there at home for a month… be in communication’.”
Modeling
In line with the reciprocal disclosure effect (Sprecher et al., 2013), all participants felt their own disclosures of mental illness or neurodiversity encouraged student disclosures. For example, Drew noted that their own disclosures likely implied that students were also welcome to share their experiences: “[I] think talking about my own [challenges with mental illness] in class is taken as an invitation to do so.” Elizabeth similarly highlighted the role of modeling vulnerability and acceptance in encouraging student disclosures: “[it] reduces stigma… [and] provides a model for others to follow in how to disclose.” Participants also pointed to temporal proximity, disclosure content, and student affirmations. Janine noted: “The number and timing of the disclosures very often mirror my own disclosures; if I say something in class, students seem to come to me around that time.” Drew similarly recalled: “After talking about my ADHD, a student came to my office and disclosed that they also had ADHD and asked if I would discuss strategies that I have used to manage it in an academic environment.” Andrea noted that students mentioned instructors’ disclosures in their own revelations: “Often, students will thank me directly for sharing my experience whether this be in person or via email, and this often is a segue into their own disclosure.” As modeling was thought to encourage student disclosures, all participants were confident they received more student disclosures than their colleagues. As Helly noted, “I would definitely say I deal with more student outreach than others in my department.”
Rapport
Instructors believed that modeling self-disclosure, openness, and vulnerability helped to build a special trust and rapport with students and left students feeling they were approachable and empathetic. As Janine noted, “I think it makes me more relatable/human and makes it easier for students to share with me.” Reflecting on how reciprocal disclosures allowed instructors and students to connect through experiences of hardship, Andrea noted, “I think disclosing mental illness to my students creates a bridge that starts to cross the student-instructor divide.” Helly similarly explained, “You become a safe space and are recognized as someone who can identify with suffering … a safe space where they will be heard, understood, and listened to without shock or judgment.”
Support Seeking
Finally, all six instructors affirmed that some students who disclose personal challenges are seeking psycho-emotional or practical support. Often, they believed that students simply wanted someone to listen to their stories without judgment and provide empathetic understanding. Reflecting soberly on what this might suggest about students’ support networks, Drew noted, “I get the impression that, for some students, I might be one of the only caring adults/people in their lives.” Student disclosures were sometimes linked to explicit requests for assistance, including advice on managing stressors or traumatic experiences, help accessing academic supports, or information about community services. For example, May recalled: “They came to me to ask for a referral to off-campus counsellors and wanted my opinion on counselling in general.” When pressed about why students might approach them specifically, participants surmised that disclosing personal experiences of neurodiversity or mental illness might implicitly communicate their competence in managing the challenges these lived realities posed for postsecondary success. As Elizabeth explained, “[it] can help others feel safer, like there’s someone who knows what to do to support them [and] to connect them with support services.” However, the instructors noted that they could not always be sure why specific students disclosed personal challenges. Helly imagined various motives, including some that belied a degree of wariness: “Do they [students] recognize me as a ‘fellow sufferer’ or a ‘kind, safe, non-judgmental person’ or perhaps an ‘easy mark’ who is ripe for manipulation?”
Impacts of Student Disclosures on Instructors
Participants identified both challenges and rewards associated with student disclosures of personal challenges. Challenges included: (1) feelings of discomfort and unpreparedness; (2) increased emotional and academic labor; (3) frustration toward colleagues and institutions; (4) becoming disillusioned with students, higher education, and humanity at large; and (5) increased symptomatology. Rewards included: (1) providing emotional and practical support for students and (2) working to normalize mental health challenges on campus.
Challenges
Discomfort and Unpreparedness
All participants described feeling uncomfortable when met with certain student disclosures. At times, the students’ disclosures felt too intimate. As Drew noted, “The experiences that [one student] shared were about violence and abuse, and I didn’t feel like those stories were meant for me. They seemed too intimate for a student-teacher relationship.” Instructors also described that the content of some disclosures was unexpected and off-putting. Helly explained, “I have very vivid images of some of the more heartbreaking stories.” For five instructors (all except May), part of this discomfort was also tied to feelings of uncertainty about how to respond to student disclosures, particularly those about traumatic experiences. Andrea described, “I do not have a clinical psychology background and am not sure I am responding in the best way possible.”
Increased Academic and Emotional Labor
Five instructors (all except May) reported that student disclosures often left them exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed. As Janine explained, “Some days it feels too much and saps some of my energy … [I] tend to get very emotionally engaged with the students and worry about them.” The participants noted that student disclosures demand active, empathetic listening and thoughtful responses, which exact a cognitive and emotional toll on instructors. Pragmatic responses to student disclosures (in the form of academic accommodations, service referrals, etc.) also increased instructors’ workloads and diverted their time, attention, and energy away from other professional pursuits. For example, Elizabeth, who frequently helps students to navigate diversity, equity, and inclusion processes, noted: “Sometimes, I feel the dreaded ‘not again!’ and think about all the extra admin and meetings I’ll have to do and the extra worry.”
Frustration
Participants also noted that listening and responding to student disclosures occasionally bred frustration toward students, colleagues, or university services. For example, Janine spoke about how her emotional reaction to student disclosures has diminished over time: “I have become more experienced with dealing with these issues so in some ways it has become easier … [And] sometimes I think I might have become a bit jaded.” Four instructors (Drew, Helly, Janine, and Elizabeth) noted that when supporting distressed students, they often became upset by their colleagues’ inflexibility. For example, Helly stated that being an empathetic instructor frequently increased their workload, as colleagues were not approached for the same accommodations: “I’m the one consistently marking in December … or … moving exams around because … other people are not willing to be flexible.” Five professors (all except Andrea) also expressed irritation at the inadequacy of student support and mental health services. Janine explained, “I am often horrified by the lack of care shown by families/other profs or the system, frustrated at there not being better supports and resources.” Helly similarly described feeling angry about “the lack of appropriate supports for our young people—high-quality mental health services, adequate childcare, and student loans.”
Disillusionment
More broadly, five participants (all but May) noted that student disclosures sometimes left them feeling disillusioned with students and academia. At times, four instructors (Drew, Andrea, Helly, and Janine) questioned the veracity of student disclosures, particularly those that involved accommodation requests after the fact. Drew explained, “I don’t want students to take advantage of me… maybe that’s a bit of a jaded perspective, that students are trying to take advantage of more lenient professors.” Andrea similarly noted, “I am … more skeptical [these days] as I have also experienced students trying to manipulate/use the system in the name of mental health, which is extremely frustrating.” Another four instructors (Elizabeth, Helly, Janine, and May) described how student disclosures contributed to a broader disillusionment with academia. Elizabeth noted perceptions of indifference among colleagues: “It has angered me—in a bad way … I have felt like giving up on academia.” Helly also explained, “I can get really sad … if THESE, often privileged, students are going through that much trauma, what the hell is happening to others? It makes me feel really disappointed in humanity.” Janine reported similar feelings, noting, “It does impact my sense of justice … the unfairness of what some of the students are going through … it devastates me, and I have cried in my office.”
Increased Symptomology
Three instructors (Drew, Helly, and Janine) noted that added emotional and practical labor responding to student disclosures negatively impacted their ability to cope with their own mental illness. For example, Helly described that student experiences with trauma often spurred feelings of sadness and hopelessness that could exacerbate their own depression symptoms. Janine similarly explained: “I feel overwhelmed, and perhaps [it is] triggering some form of depression.” Helly explained how some student disclosures would evoke a panic response and lead to a powerful feeling of “tightness in the chest.” Drew commented: “I am barely able to support my own needs a lot of the time, and so I don’t feel like I am the person that they should be telling.”
Experiences of Compassion Fatigue, Vicarious Traumatization, and Burnout
Participants’ experiences reflected compassion fatigue, vicarious traumatization, and burnout—three related conceptualizations of emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion in the workplace. Compassion fatigue includes a reduced capacity for empathy (understanding and sharing others’ feelings) and sympathy (concern for another’s hardship) that result from personal or secondary (others) experiences of trauma (Branson, 2019; Rauvola et al., 2019). Participants spoke of a decline in empathy and sympathy for their students after repeated exposure to disclosures of personal challenges. Several also reported becoming jaded in their educational roles and growing skeptical toward struggling students. These traits are consistent with individuals experiencing compassion fatigue, who often feel overwhelmed by stories of suffering, particularly when they perceive themselves as unable to provide adequate help.
Vicarious traumatization includes negative psychological impacts from repeated, emotionally intimate contact with trauma survivors (Branson, 2019), characterized by anger and sadness towards another’s victimization and experiences of bystander guilt, self-doubt, hopelessness, and cynicism. Participants’ references to anger and sadness related to the victimization of students were common, as were growing feelings of cynicism and powerlessness to help students in meaningful ways. Vicarious traumatization has also been tied to adverse changes in peoples’ fundamental beliefs about the world, a reduced sense of safety and fairness, becoming involved emotionally with service users, and difficulty maintaining boundaries in professional settings (Mehlmann-Wicks, 2022). Some participants felt that developing an emotional bond with students was positive, but others thought they sometimes became over-involved. For example, Janine noted, “I tend to get very emotionally engaged with the students and worry about them and it upsets me when they leave my class and just move on; that makes me feel lonely on some level.” Four participants also spoke about having developed cynicism towards others as a result of their exposure to student suffering. Helly explained: “It makes me feel depressed often. Perhaps a bit hopeless—like, ‘Why the fuck am I even trying to make a difference in this world?'. I think there is also some anger in there at times—like ‘humans are disgusting—burn it all down' kind of thing.” This disillusionment and preoccupation with student welfare suggest that vicarious traumatization may impact instructors who field student disclosures (Branson, 2019; Mehlmann-Wicks, 2022).
Burnout is characterized by physical, emotional, or mental exhaustion resulting from prolonged exertion at work (Brunzell et al., 2021). Among educators, burnout may lead to apathy, decreased motivation, detachment, impaired performance, negative attitudes toward self and others, cynicism, absenteeism, and the decision to quit one’s profession (Brunzell et al., 2021). Participants frequently noted the additional emotional and practical labor associated with receiving and responding to student disclosures left them “exhausted,” “drained,” and “overwhelmed,” leading to teaching absences for some and serious considerations of leaving the profession for one participant. Participants also spoke about negative impacts on personal energy, attendance, motivation, job performance, and academic outputs (including research), which are consistent with experiences of burnout.
Rewards
Providing Support
Having faced academic and personal challenges themselves as a result of mental illness and/or neurodiversity, all six instructors felt thankful that they could use these experiences to help others. As Janine explained, “It makes me feel ‘useful’—that I can be there and support the students … I have developed the skills and lived experience to try to help.” The ability to support students was particularly meaningful for those who noted that compassionate and knowledgeable confidants had not always been available to them. As Janine noted, “[it allowed me to] be the person I wish I had in my life.” Four instructors (Elizabeth, Helly, Janine, and May) further noted that leveraging professional roles to aid distressed students proved highly rewarding. As Elizabeth noted, “[It is] a good way to use my privilege to invoke change where I can.”
Normalization of Mental Illness
Three instructors (Elizabeth, Janine, and May) noted that reciprocal disclosures were evidence of their positive impact on students’ help-seeking behaviors. Students’ disclosures suggested to instructors that they had helped to normalize psychological and emotional difficulties and various treatment and service options. As May explained, instructors’ own disclosures “sets the tone for a safe space to talk about a lot of things,” and that “students tell me that if it wasn’t for my class and my openness, they would not have thought about going to therapy—it is these kinds of things that make me feel really good about what I do.”
Clinical Mental Health Training as a Protective Factor
May’s experiences of reciprocal disclosures stood out from those of other participants. She reported that receiving and responding to student disclosures was personally and professionally fulfilling but noted fewer challenges and adverse outcomes highlighted by others. May reported that she did not struggle with feeling unprepared, was not overwhelmed or disillusioned by these encounters, and did not exacerbate mental illness symptoms. Some irritation related to the inadequacy of student support and mental health services on campus was the only negative consequence noted by May, who felt her clinical training had prepared her for student disclosures. May described several practices, such as setting and communicating clear boundaries with students, maintaining a “healthy distance” between her and her students, and compartmentalizing her work life, as having helped her to support students effectively without detriment to her wellbeing. May’s case suggests various possibilities for training and support to help instructors manage student disclosures, which are discussed below.
Discussion
The present study is the first that uses an interpretive phenomenological approach to explore how a group of postsecondary instructors who disclose mental illness or neurodiversity in the classroom experience reciprocal student disclosures of personal challenges. Instructors perceived student disclosures to be closely related to their own modeling. Still, they noted that other factors (such as rapport with students and students’ need for practical and emotional support) also contributed. Student disclosures were experienced as empowering when they allowed instructors to support struggling students and affirmed the value of challenging mental illness stigma in academia. However, these disclosures were also described as uncomfortable, draining, frustrating, and disillusioning. Instructors did not always feel prepared or qualified to meet students’ needs, and the additional demands on their time and energy risked negatively impacting their own wellbeing. Notably, instructors’ descriptions of how student disclosures affected their professional and personal wellbeing often resonated with psychological experiences of compassion fatigue, vicarious trauma, and burnout. The case of an instructor with clinical mental health training was unique in that the instructor identified few of the adverse outcomes described by peers, which she attributed to protective techniques learned during her clinical training.
Instructors living with mental illness or neurodiversity are not alone in receiving student disclosures of personal challenges. Hayes-Smith et al. (2010) reported that female postsecondary instructors who had experienced student disclosures of sexual assault and intimate partner violence reported feeling similarly burdened by such revelations and unsupported by peers who were not subject to such disclosures. While all instructors who receive and respond to students’ disclosures are at risk of adverse outcomes, those living with mental illness or neurodiversity may face specific difficulties in coping with these revelations. Such individuals face numerous challenges in academia, including fatigue, unpredictable symptoms, and real or perceived stigma and discrimination (Fox & Gasper, 2020; Quijada, 2021; Skogen, 2012). When instructors with mental illness or neurodiversity take on additional social, emotional, and practical labor related to student disclosures, they forfeit precious time and energy. For some, hearing about and responding to student challenges also taxes their coping abilities and may exacerbate symptoms or occupational stress. Neurodiverse instructors and those with mental illness could be more prone to experiencing symptoms of compassion fatigue, vicarious trauma, and burnout related to student disclosures of challenges because of existing strains, over-exposure to the suffering of students, or difficulty in setting and maintaining protective boundaries. Such possibilities require further investigation using clinical scales and broader samples.
The current research also highlights the benefits and rewards that receiving and responding to student disclosures can confer on postsecondary instructors experiencing mental illness or neurodiversity. Despite the complexity and challenges associated with instructors’ experiences of student disclosures, participants invariably affirmed that the benefits outweighed the costs, and all continued to disclose their experiences of mental illness or neurodiversity to students. This desire to help others, even when accompanied by personal costs, can arise from a sense of duty during perceived shared suffering (Frank, 2013). Instructors could recognize parts of themselves and their own past experiences in students’ challenges, breeding a sense of responsibility and prompting instructors to adopt a mode of “being for the other” (Frank, 2013, p. 182). Having overcome (to some degree) their challenges with mental illness or neurodiversity, instructors put skills, insights, and information gleaned from their own experiences to work in service of others, increasing their own wellbeing by mitigating the sense that their own suffering was arbitrary or meaningless (Frank, 2013).
The additional emotional and practical labor borne by instructors who receive and respond to student disclosures is driven by both individual and institutional components. Some instructors (such as those who are open about their personal experiences of mental illness or neurodiversity on campus) may bear a disproportionate burden of student disclosures given their personal experiences, andragogical practices, and interactional styles. However, the persistent stigmatization of mental illness (Moghimi et al., 2023) and insufficient campus and community mental health services (Canadian Institute for Health Information, 2022; Dunley & Papadopoulos, 2019) also leave postsecondary instructors concerned that students lack alternate confidants and supports. Research suggests that students in Canada and the United States continue to encounter barriers in their attempts to access mental health services (Dunley & Papadopoulos, 2019; Moghimi et al., 2023).
Implications for Practice
Despite the desire to support students, many instructors felt unprepared to hear and respond to student disclosures and became overwhelmed by the additional emotional and practical labor entailed. Postsecondary instructors who are contemplating disclosing their experiences of mental illness or neurodiversity to students should consider how they would manage reciprocal disclosures and the associated risks of compassion fatigue, vicarious trauma, or burnout (Cordaro, 2020). Those who are not clinical mental health experts should also reflect on when and how they can ethically support disclosing students.
Identification and Response Training for Educators
In the current study, the resilience of a participant with clinical mental health training suggests that targeted coaching and preparation might help instructors bear the burdens of student disclosures of personal challenges. To this end, training postsecondary instructors who frequently receive student disclosures of trauma might also be of value. It has been shown, for example, that training in trauma-informed care can help mitigate vicarious trauma (Christian-Brandt et al., 2020) and reduce the impact of compassion fatigue (Peterson, 2019).
Defining Professional Boundaries
The practice of setting and maintaining boundaries might also benefit postsecondary instructors who disclose their experiences of mental illness or neurodiversity to students. Price and colleagues (2021) noted that student disclosures of personal health information blur the boundaries of student-teacher relationships. McMurtrie (2023) further warned that instructors who are “student-centered” and always available to students are at greater risk of burnout. While participants in the current study recognized the need for boundaries, they feared struggling students might have nowhere else to turn. Respecting these complexities, boundary-setting activities might be incorporated into instructor-led “job crafting,” which enables instructors to redefine their professional roles and capacities to align with available resources in shifting contexts (Eblie Trudel et al., 2021). Our findings also suggest the need to consider how relational pedagogies (which aim to create more equitable classrooms; Wright, 2011) and student-centered teaching approaches (which foreground student-teacher relationships, authenticity, connection, and responsiveness in the learning process; Gravett, 2022) might be implemented without compromising instructors’ wellbeing.
Creating Communities of Practice
Communities of practice encourage members with common interests to collaborate, problem-solve, share best practices, and create new professional knowledge (McGrath et al., 2020). Research indicates that postsecondary educators with strong social support networks who also have their psychological needs met report fewer symptoms of vicarious trauma, burnout, and compassion fatigue (Abraham-Cook, 2012; Bozgeyikli, 2018). Postsecondary instructors who are open about neurodiversity or mental illness (or any instructors who field student disclosures of challenges) may benefit from connecting with and learning from others in a community of practice, better enabling them to respond to students, monitor their own wellbeing, and advocate for institutional changes.
Increasing Institutional Support for Students and Instructors
Studies suggest that students’ mental health concerns are becoming more severe and time-consuming for instructors, contributing to increased work demands and burnout (Roberts-Grmela, 2023; Sokal & Eblie Trudel, 2022). Institutions should increase the availability of on-campus student supports and define clear instructor standards for responding to sensitive student disclosures and aiding students in navigating available supports. Institutions must also acknowledge the additional labor of instructors who regularly field student disclosures and provide clear pathways to support their wellbeing.
Pursuing Institutional Equity and Structural Changes
Further institutional changes that could support instructors in responding to student challenges include reducing class sizes; restructuring merit, promotion, and tenure policies to recognize the labor implicit in student-centered teaching; offering non-research sabbaticals to build capacity for student assistance; and providing flexible and accessible medical and mental health accommodations for employees (McMurtrie, 2023). Institutions must also be mindful that some instructors are at greater risk of experiencing vicarious trauma, compassion fatigue, and burnout. For example, the risk of vicarious trauma appears to be greater among women, those who lack trauma response training, and those working with unsupportive administrations (Baicker, 2020). Moreover, the labor associated with fielding and responding to student disclosures is disproportionately borne by instructors who are women (St-Onge & Lemyre, 2018), and women are 1.5 times more likely to disclose mental illness conditions to students than men (Busch et al., 2023). Training and professional development for all instructors in responding to student disclosures, regardless of gender, would prepare instructors to respond effectively and spread this labor across a greater number of persons (Ethan & Seidel, 2013).
Limitations & Future Directions
Future studies should explore perspectives from a greater diversity of genders and ethno-racial backgrounds and attend to the intersectionality of mental illness and/or neurodiversity with other marginalized or stigmatized identities. The literature would also benefit from studies that compare instructors’ attitudes and experiences of student disclosures of distress over time, including experiences of diminished emotional responses to such disclosures and possible connections to compassion fatigue and/or enhanced instructor coping. While the current study attended only to the experiences of instructors, future studies should also explore student experiences of reciprocal disclosures with instructors who disclose mental illness or neurodivergence. Greater attention to the relationship between features of student disclosures and instructor outcomes is also warranted. At present, it is unclear whether the content of students’ disclosures, the number of student disclosures, or a sense of feeling ill-prepared to field these revelations drives negative instructor experiences and outcomes. This knowledge will be essential to determining appropriate institutional responses—individual training on the one hand or a review of class sizes and workloads on the other. Studies with larger sample sizes can also determine the influence of various personal (e.g., career duration, gender) and contextual factors (e.g., discipline, institution) on instructors’ experiences of reciprocal disclosures. Further investigation of how instructors’ framing of their personal experiences as “mental illness” (pathology, hindrance) or “neurodiversity” (identity, diversity, benefits) influences reciprocal disclosures would also be of benefit.
Conclusion
Our findings highlight how postsecondary instructors experience reciprocal student disclosures of personal challenges and outline the complexity of the associated challenges and benefits. Instructors who live with mental illnesses or identify as neurodiverse describe feeling compelled to field and respond to student disclosures by an ethics of care, a sense of unique competence, and a perceived lack of alternate supports. They also describe personal impacts of these disclosures that are consistent with compassion fatigue, vicarious traumatization, and burnout. In highlighting the intrapersonal contours of reciprocal disclosures, the present study provides a nuanced portrait of how postsecondary instructors who share aspects of their personal lives with students are impacted by such events.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.
