Undergraduate Research Experience,Graduate School Choice,and Expected and Unanticipated Transitions to and through Graduate School

Abstract

Addressing graduate education inequity requires focusing on both admission and persistence in graduate programs. Through a 5-year oral history project, we consider how an undergraduate research experience (URE) program with a heavy emphasis on critical race theory (CRT) supports students through multiple transitions to enter and progress through graduate programs. The URE helped them to expect certain transitions, such as the need to make intentional choices about graduate program fit, the importance of identifying good mentors, and the need to become self-directed, independent researchers. The URE program’s emphasis on CRT also gave them a framework for making sense of unanticipated transitions in graduate school: instead of internalizing problematic experiences, they recognized them as part of inequities endemic to higher education and society. We discuss implications for URE programs and approaches to supporting students as they make geographic and institutional transitions to pursue graduate education.

Hispanic and Black students are increasingly enrolling in graduate education, but far too few complete their programs. While, on average, Hispanic and Black graduate enrollments increased by around 6.6% and 1.0% (McKenzie et al., 2023) annually between 2012 and 2022, these racially minoritized groups remain underrepresented in graduate education. Progress that is made through admissions is undone during retention. According to the Council of Graduate Schools’ Doctoral Initiative on Minority Attrition and Completion (2015), only 42% of underrepresented racial minority students completed their degree within 7 years. That percentage rose to slightly more than half (54%) over 10 years. In fields like mathematical and physical sciences, completion rates never rose above 45% (Sowell et al., 2015). Even if we improve equity in graduate admissions, institutional and student resources, time, and effort are squandered when students never complete their doctorates.

Undergraduate research experiences (UREs) are one high-impact practice that can help prepare students to succeed in graduate education. Kuh (2008) defines high-impact practices as “programs and activities [that] appear to engage participants at levels that elevate their performance across multiple engagement and desired-outcomes measures” (p. 14). Yet, students of color often have unequal opportunities to participate in high-impact practices (e.g., Finley & McNair, 2013; Greenman et al., 2022). Some research also suggests that students of color do not benefit from high-impact practices to the same extent than their White peers (e.g., Sweat et al., 2013). For instance, Valentine et al. (2021) show that Black students have lower learning gains associated with participating in research with faculty than their peers. One potential explanation for why UREs may not equitably benefit all students is that faculty mentoring can be harmful if it occurs in a colorblind way (McCoy et al., 2015).

In addition to helping students succeed as undergraduates (e.g., Bowman & Holmes, 2018; Eagan et al., 2024), UREs prepare students to pursue graduate education (e.g., Fernandez et al., 2024b; Harsh et al., 2011; P. R. Hernandez et al., 2018; Lopatto, 2007). Some scholars have interviewed students to understand how participating in UREs supports further educational aspirations (e.g., Adedokun et al., 2012). However, there is still a need to examine how participation in a URE affects the transition from undergraduate to graduate programs. For instance, we need to better understand how URE students identify, apply, and choose programs, or navigate entry into graduate school and progress beyond the first year of graduate training to address the processes that lead to racialized gaps in doctoral completion and attrition.

This study addresses the need to better understand how a URE can support student transitions into graduate school. This paper is based on a 5-year oral history project. We followed students in a URE at a public, regional comprehensive, Hispanic Serving Institution (HSI), and asked them to narrate their experiences transitioning from undergraduate education into postbaccalaureate, master’s, and doctoral programs. Drawing on Schlossberg and colleagues’ (1995) transition theory, we sought to understand how students with minoritized identities navigated anticipated and unanticipated transitions into graduate school, and how they were influenced by graduate program context. Specifically, we address the following research question: How did URE participation prepare students for transitional moments in their academic careers? Just as Williams (2014) examined challenges of transitioning from undergraduate Historically Black College and University (HBCU) programs to graduate programs at Predominantly White Institutions (PWIs), our findings offer important insights into how UREs can support students transitioning from pursuing undergraduate degrees at a racially diverse HSI into more selective and less diverse campuses.

Literature Review

Beyond looking at how graduate programs make admissions decisions (e.g., Posselt, 2016), scholars have examined predictors of enrolling in graduate programs. Mullen et al. (2003) examined longitudinal, nationally representative data to show that students with parents with higher levels of education (particularly those with graduate degrees) are more likely to pursue doctorates and professional degrees (e.g., MD/DO, PharmD, DPT). They found that parental education influences where their children earn undergraduate degrees, how well they do in college, and their educational goals. After controlling for background characteristics like parental education and economic considerations (e.g., foregone earnings, debt), Perna (2004) showed that social and cultural considerations, such as students’ aspirations for “influencing the political structure” (p. 504), are also positively related to the odds of enrolling in both master’s and doctoral programs.

These foundational studies emphasize the importance of considering non-academic and non-economic social and cultural factors in students’ pursuit of graduate education. However, they provide limited understanding of how students make choices about pursuing graduate education, and how they navigate graduate programs after admission. In the following subsections, we provide an overview of three related areas of empirical research. First, we discuss graduate school choice research. Second, we review literature on positive and negative experiences that influence students’ transition into graduate education. Third, we summarize prior literature on UREs and ways they have been shown to help students succeed in master’s and doctoral programs.

The Choice to Apply to Graduate School

Traditionally, sociological scholarship has discussed advancing to graduate education as a “continuation” of undergraduate education, similar to the progression from primary school to secondary school (Posselt & Grodsky, 2017, p. 370). However, more recent research examines the transition to graduate education as a discrete choice or set of choices, which can vary by background characteristics like race, sex, and undergraduate major. For example, English and Umbach (2016) found that students who earned 4-year degrees in applied fields, including social and behavioral sciences and life or physical sciences, had higher odds of attending graduate school—likely because they saw it as fulfilling “intrinsic expectations of pursuing that graduate degree within their individual field of study” (English & Umbach, 2016, p. 199).

English and Umbach (2016) also examined the decision to apply or enroll in graduate school choice as a choice about whether to continue to invest in one’s career—the “opportunity cost of enrolling, which aligns with the theory of human capital investments” (p. 201). Multiple factors may weigh into how students choose to enroll in graduate school. For example, there are contradictory findings about the influence of undergraduate debt on graduate school enrollment. Millett (2003) and Malcom and Dowd (2012) found that higher levels of undergraduate debt were negatively related to enrolling in graduate school. However, English and Umbach (2016), as well as Velez et al. (2019), did not find a statistically significant relationship between undergraduate debt and graduate school enrollment. English and Umbach (2016) acknowledged that a limitation of their study was that their data only recorded graduate school enrollment in the year immediately earning an undergraduate degree, which could not capture that students may have intentionally taken a gap year with the aspiration to enter graduate school in a future admissions cycle. The importance of a gap year may be particularly relevant for students who received financial support through research experience programs, which reduced indebtedness and relieved immediate pressure to find full-time work while and after completing the baccalaureate (Mason et al., 2025).

Scholars have also identified family support or familial obligations as another factor in the decision to enroll in graduate school. In her study of gendered pathways to graduate school, Perna (2004) argued that financial obligations can be related to family commitments and expectations. Kallio (1995) attributed the connections among family commitments, financial obligations, and graduate school choice to life stage differences. She found that, compared to older students who had more time to marry and have children, younger people more likely to move to attend graduate school.

Researchers who focus on students of color have found that families encouraged students to stay close to home for their undergraduate education. However, they have also found that familial support was different for graduate school. Although parents did not give direct advice about applying to or enrolling in graduate school, they supported students’ aspirations to move away from home (albeit cautiously) and enroll in graduate programs (N. M. Garcia & Mireles-Rios, 2020; Monarrez et al., 2024). Valdovinos Gutierrez and Ko-Wong (2024) documented that families were an important source of support even after students enrolled and through the first year of graduate school.

Apart from financial and social factors, psychosocial aspects can also influence whether students choose to pursue graduate education in the same field of study as their undergraduate majors. When Wofford (2021) studied pathways to graduate education in computing, she found that there are gendered and racialized gaps in self-confidence about gaining admission to graduate school. However, when students developed greater self-efficacy in the discipline, they tended to have better perceptions of their academic ability and to develop greater self-confidence for admission to graduate programs. Thus, self-efficacy seems to underpin students’ perceptions about their ability to choose to apply to graduate school and gain admission if they apply to master’s or doctoral programs.

The Transition to Graduate Education

Many students drop out because they experience poor transitions (i.e., socialization) into graduate programs (Gardner, 2007; Jeong et al., 2020). Beyond the initial process of gaining admission to a graduate program, students are expected to transition through at least three phases of graduate education: the first year, completion of coursework, and candidacy (Gardner, 2008). Supportive environments that foster academic and social integration, including faculty mentoring, help students move well through these phases (Gardner, 2010).

In addition to supportive environments, students tend to do well in graduate school when they have the skills and habits needed to succeed. Fischer and Zigmond (1998) point out that graduate students need distinct or more well-developed skills than those needed in undergraduate programs. These include learning to be self-directed; developing novel research studies or applications; developing closer advising or mentoring relationships with faculty; networking with future colleagues; short-, medium-, and long-term planning; and communicating about scholarly ideas and research findings. Students also do well when cultivating their networks in the field, which can help them develop independent professional identities, allowing them to benefit from out-of-class experiences (Liddell et al., 2014). Conversely, students struggle when they lack these skills or encounter challenges like negative interactions with faculty or stress and mental health issues that prevent them from exercising their abilities (Hardré & Pan, 2017).

Many students struggle because they are not academically well-prepared to complete common tasks in graduate courses (e.g., reading and understanding academic articles), or they lack skills for producing research, such as training in statistics or writing for publication (Schramm-Possinger & Powers, 2015). Underrepresented students can experience additional burdens. For instance, among racially minoritized students who were enrolled in graduate programs at PWIs, Black students rated their social experiences as poorer, on average, than Hispanic students (Simpson, 2003). Black and Hispanic students have been found to survive dehumanizing experiences and endemic racism in doctoral programs (Gildersleeve et al., 2011). Too often faculty mentors and institutions withhold support and fail to act when students are struggling in graduate education (T. E. Hernandez & Posselt, 2024). While all graduate students encounter challenges, what matters, especially with unanticipated challenges, is their capacity or preparation to make sense of their experiences (Perez, 2016).

UREs and the Pathway to Graduate School

Researchers have examined prominent programs (i.e., Gates Millenium Scholars; Ronald E. McNair Scholars; U.S. National Institute of Mental Health’s Career Opportunities in Research [COR] program) and found that UREs support student pathways to graduate programs. Although the Gates Millenium Scholars Program does not require students to participate in a URE, many students who participated had higher odds of enrolling in any graduate program, including STEM programs, regardless of undergraduate major (Myers & Pavel, 2011). Other researchers have found that McNair programs help students to complete the multiple steps needed to gain admission and do well in graduate school, such as developing greater educational aspirations, researcher identity, and self-efficacy (Posselt & Black, 2012; Renbarger, 2019; Willison & Gibson, 2011). A study of the COR program found that its communal aspect to training with multiple faculty and a cohort of students provided a benefit beyond what could be accomplished through isolated research experience (Plunkett et al., 2014).

Scholars have used different forms of surveys to examine how UREs influence student development and outcomes. For instance, Willis et al. (2013) used a pre/post design to administer surveys at the beginning and end of a summer URE. By the end of the URE, they found that students had increased interest in graduate school, knowledge about research and its societal benefits, and competence with using research equipment and measurement. Scholars have also found that UREs benefit all participants, including already high-performing students, by helping them develop a greater science identity (Piatt et al., 2019). UREs not only help students feel more prepared to apply and transition to graduate school (Peteet & Lige, 2016; Simpson, 2003), but they can also help prepare participants to be more successful graduate students (Schramm-Possinger & Powers, 2015; Sheehy, 2019). However, few studies have traced students’ journeys from undergraduate research into graduate education. This paper contributes by examining these transitions to highlight both expected and unanticipated pathways.

Critical race theory as a URE framework

Beyond imparting academic and technical research skills, a URE can be designed to expose students to critical race theory (CRT) as a framework for understanding and navigating historical and ever-present inequities in science, higher education institutions, and society. Saetermoe et al. (2017) discuss how a URE’s activities can be aligned with the five tenets of CRT (see Sólorzano et al., 2005). For instance, URE activities such as a summer bridge program and mentee/mentor trainings taught about the centrality of race and racism in society and throughout structures, policies, and practices in higher education. As previously mentioned, mentorship opportunities can unintentionally harm students of color when faculty adopt a colorblind approach to mentoring (e.g., McCoy et al., 2015). However, CRT can serve as a framework to train faculty mentors so that a URE can be an anti-racist program. Writing about the same URE program as Saetermoe et al. (2017), Vargas et al. (2021) argue that “anti-racist efforts in the service of diversification must include the construction of bridges between white mentor allies and students of color, whose experiences differ remarkedly” (pp. 1056–1057). They acknowledge that “mentors who are white and who avoid critical discussions about racism maintain hostile social climates for promising students of color” and argue that when a URE is grounded in CRT, “white mentors can be made aware of the nested ecosystems that impact their research and learn to acknowledge diverse perspectives holistically and without judgment” (Vargas et al., 2021, p. 1057).

Prior research on the URE that is framed around CRT (i.e., the program described by Saetermoe et al., 2017; Vargas et al., 2021) revealed that students who experience mentoring that incorporates race have higher sense of belonging at their university (Fernandez et al., 2022). Quantitative analysis also showed that students who participated in the URE program that was designed around CRT were more prepared to respond when they experienced racism (Fernandez et al., 2024a). A qualitative study found that students who participated in the URE that prominently featured CRT experienced multiple sources of support that helped them develop intentions to pursue graduate education (Mason et al., 2025). While multiple studies have examined how students benefit when CRT is embedded in a URE program, these studies have largely overlooked the temporal nature of how the URE and CRT help students as they make multiple transitions as they pursue graduate education.

Conceptual Framework

We draw upon transition theory (Goodman et al., 2006; Schlossberg, 1984; Schlossberg et al., 1995) to inform our analysis and interpretation of findings. Prior work suggests that transition theory can be useful in considering how individuals enter graduate education (e.g., Gansemer-Topf et al., 2006). Moreover, Gardner (2010) referenced Schlossberg’s work on transition theory to discuss how students move through phases within doctoral programs. Scholars have also applied transition theory to examine the experiences of international graduate students and demonstrate how graduate students need support networks within and outside academia for success (Y. Zhang, 2016).

Schlossberg et al. (1995) describe three types of transitions. The first is anticipated transitions, which refers to changes or events that new students might expect to experience. For instance, a student may expect to have a specific faculty member who shares a research interest as a mentor and a dissertation chair. If that advising plan comes to pass, that counts as an anticipated transition. However, if that faculty member leaves and the student must work with a new faculty mentor with a different research focus, this would be considered an unanticipated transition. Finally, students may experience non-events. Goodman et al. (2006) describe non-events as the transitions “an individual had expected [emphasis in original] but that did not occur, thereby altering his or her life” (p. 35). In the context of this study, non-events could be expecting to enroll in a doctoral program in the fall after earning a baccalaureate degree or even expecting to earn a doctorate but not completing the graduate program. Transition theory also calls for considering the context of each part of the pathway into and through graduate education. Contextual factors, such as whether students moved across the country to enroll in graduate school, can influence how people make sense of their transitions. However, as Schlossberg et al. (1995) explain, context and perception both shape transition experiences: “a transition is not so much a matter of change as of the individual’s own perception of the change” (p. 28).

We apply transition theory to develop and address our research questions. We began with an overarching research question: How did URE participation prepare students for transitional moments in their academic careers? Informed by prior literature (e.g., English & Umbach, 2016; Gansemer-Topf et al., 2006; Gardner, 2008, 2010), we considered:

• (a) How did URE alumni choose graduate institutions and programs of study?

• (b) How did URE alumni matriculate into graduate programs?

• (c) How did URE alumni navigate their first and subsequent years in graduate programs?

Transition theory aligns with our research method (described further in the next section) because we collected data across multiple years, including points in time when students were amidst their transitions. An oral history approach is ideally suited to understanding participants’ perceptions of their lived experiences and changes from one year to the next.

Method

This paper is part of an oral history project that tracked URE participants for 5 years. According to Rosaldo (1980), oral history research “involves telling stories about stories people tell about themselves” (p. 89). In alignment with our conceptual framework, which posits that transitions are not objective changes but subjective experiences (Schlossberg et al., 1995), oral history positions participants as narrators who “organise perceptions about the past, and not containers of brute facts” (Rosaldo, 1980, p. 97). Oral history aims to understand “by using convergent lines of evidence, and not through internal criticism of single testimonies” (Rosaldo, 1980, p. 97).

Study Context

We focused on one URE implemented at a public, regional comprehensive university in California, designated as an HSI. Most 4-year Hispanic students enroll at regional comprehensive HSIs, which do not have doctoral programs and often have fewer resources to prepare students for graduate education (G. A. Garcia & Guzman-Alvarez, 2019). When alumni of HSIs do go on to earn doctorates, they tend to do so at less-research intensive universities relative to Hispanic students who attend PWIs (Fernandez, 2020).

The selected institution had an innovative URE that was funded by the National Institutes of Health (NIH) and designed to support students in pursuing graduate education in biomedical science and health-related fields. Unlike other UREs discussed in the literature review, this program explicitly incorporated CRT throughout its various components, including curriculum development, mentor training, student research training, mandatory summer research experiences, and workshops, in addition to guidance on selecting and applying to graduate school and post-graduate school expectations. Specific activities related to graduate school advising included editing personal statements, helping students select graduate programs, and reviewing financial award letters to help them select the most supportive financial package. All these supports were part of the URE’s effort to increase science identity, science self-efficacy, persistence in science and research, and belonging in higher education and in their fields of study. It is worth noting that URE advisers stress that not all students will follow the same path or that there is a single ideal path (i.e., going straight from an undergraduate program into a fully funded PhD program at a highly selective and research intensive university). Students are encouraged to think about what is right for them in terms of program and timeline, and are taught that they may need to take some time before enrolling in a graduate program.

The purpose of this paper is to understand how the URE influenced and prepared students to navigate multiple transitions into graduate school. The URE was designed to influence students’ paths to graduate school along multiple domains (ways of learning about graduate school, the process of applying to graduate school, type of program, and institutional selection). Additionally, the URE-supported students anticipated academic transitions by providing disciplinary and research knowledge and skills. By influencing how alumni found and selected graduate programs and advisers, the URE also aided in quickly identifying mentors and developing networks.

Sample

As part of a larger mixed-method study that began in 2020, URE participants were asked to volunteer to participate in a multi-year oral history project about identity, academic and social experiences, and aspirations. In 2020, 14 URE participants completed an oral history interview. New participants were invited to join the oral history project in each subsequent year of the study (43 participants completed at least one oral history interview during the 5-year study). However, the initial set of 14 students constituted a foundational cohort for this paper. Those 14 individuals were invited by emails and phone calls to talk with a member of the evaluation team each summer for 5 years (2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024).

All oral history interviews were held and recorded using Zoom. Recordings were transcribed verbatim using Rev.com. A member of the research team reviewed the transcripts to correct omissions or errors by checking audio recordings as necessary. Students were initially offered $25 online gift cards to either Amazon or Target to complete the interview. The gift card’s value increased in $5 increments for each year they participated in the oral history project. Interviews lasted up to 90 minutes. The interview protocol addressed similar topics and transitions during each year of the study (e.g., URE participation, graduate school aspirations, and enrollment).

We selected four cases (pseudonyms assigned) to distill and share our findings from 5 years of data collection and analysis. The four focal participants (narrators) were URE alumni and current graduate students, and exhibited varied paths into and through graduate education (e.g., taking a gap year, completing a postbaccalaureate experience, enrolling directly in a doctoral program, staying in the state, moving across the country). The four focal participants were contacted throughout all 5 years of the project. Three of them completed interviews each year, and one of them completed four interviews over the 5-year period. See the Table for a summary profile of focal participants. The selected focal participants benefitted from the URE’s graduate school advising including support with personal statements, evaluating graduate program and mentor “fit,” and considering financial support.

Table

Profile of Focal Participants

Pseudonym	Gender Identity	Racial Identity	Path After Undergrad	PhD Field	Current Status
Alejandra	Woman	Multiracial (Hispanic and Middle Eastern)	Post-Baccalaureate	School Psychology	Second-Year PhD Student
Gracie	Woman	Multiracial (Black, Filipina, and Dominican)	PhD Program	School Psychology	Third-Year PhD Student
Rachelle	Intersectional Feminist	Asian American	Gap Year	Ecology	Third-Year PhD Student
Rick	Man	Black	PhD Program	Toxicology	Left PhD Program; Working

Procedure

Errante (2000) explains: “What distinguishes oral histories from other kinds of interviews or oral narratives is that this [interviewer-informant] dynamic is also [italics in original] and primarily mediated by the nature and context of remembering,” recognizing that “memory is not simply an exercise of recalling: there are many ways of remembering and different reasons why we may (or may not) want to remember” (p. 17). Errante (2000) advises that interviewers should build trust and respect throughout the oral history interview. Errante (2000) identifies the “interpersonal bridge” as “the emotional bond that ties two individuals together,” which “involves trust and making possible experiences of vulnerability and openness between individuals” (Kaufman, 1974, p. 570). Indeed, Errante (2000) observes that “much of the [interpersonal] bridge had been constructed in moments of vulnerability” (p. 20). Vulnerability allows both narrators and interviewers to recognize each other’s humanity and, in the process, counter how narrators perceive interviewers as having more power and not merely being instruments for funding agencies or research universities.

We followed Errante’s (2000) specific recommendations. For instance, Errante advised that interviewers write about their perceptions of narrators immediately after each interview. We produced field notes following McQuiston and colleagues’ (2005) guide. Additionally, Errante (2000) equates recognizing identity and amplifying voice as central to honoring the dignity of each person. Citing Friedman (1992), Errante explains that oral history provides “a context in which identity is practiced” (p. 840). Therefore, we began each conversation by discussing the narrator’s identity. Initially, we asked open-ended questions about identity. Then, we shared a screen through Zoom with a list of possible identity categories (e.g., race, ethnicity, gender, age, disability, family) and asked narrators to select and discuss the identities that had been the most salient to them over the past year. We subsequently referred to those identities throughout the interview. Finally, informed by the notion that oral history involves “negotiating the context [emphasis added] of remembering” (Errante, 2000, p. 19), the research team prioritized assigning the same interviewers to the same narrators across project years to cultivate building an “interpersonal bridge” (Errante, 2000, p. 20; Kaufman, 1974).

Data Analysis

We reviewed interview recordings and transcripts multiple times (Bornat, 2004), as well as the field notes we prepared after each interview, following Wilson and colleagues’ (2025) recent example that included five oral histories. Following Bornat’s (2004) example, we started with our research question but did not develop any theories or hypotheses of how the CRT-focused URE helped students navigate transitions. We proceeded by selecting “those sections that best illustrated people’s individual experiences while also providing evidence of what life was like” (p. 40) for the cohort of focal participants who participated in the study and moved from the URE into doctoral programs. Bornat (2004) explains that this approach to oral history is meant “as far as possible, to represent people in their own words and in ways that maintained their authority” (p. 44).

Positionality

The first, second, and third authors were outsiders and did not have experience participating or working in the URE, but they conducted oral history interviews as part of the evaluation team. They have broad experience working in higher education and using qualitative research methods to evaluate programs that aim to support P-20 student success. The fourth through seventh authors designed and implemented the URE. Their research backgrounds are in health sciences, social sciences, and engineering. As outsiders and insiders, the author team approached the study with the goal of understanding how students made sense of their participation in the URE and the role it played in helping them navigate transitions into graduate school.

The author team reflected different experiences of the participants in the study. The author team included five women and two men. Two of the women and one of the men identify as faculty of color. Two of the authors were the first in their family to earn a baccalaureate degree, and even more were the first in their family to earn a PhD. Two authors immigrated to the United States. English was not the first language for multiple authors. Throughout the 5 years of data collection, members of the author team who were responsible for collecting and analyzing oral history data engaged in reflexive dialogue about how our identities might influence the way we engaged in the larger project. Before beginning, and after concluding each wave of data collection, we considered how our backgrounds and experiences could have influenced the types of follow-up questions we asked, the ways we approached data analyses, and how we interpreted findings.

In other words, the authors who were part of the evaluation team were intentional about considering whether our identities were leading us to unintentionally reinforce existing assumptions or power dynamics that influence how students move through undergraduate research experience programs and into graduate education (e.g., Parson, 2019). We would share and repeat these conversations with the authors who were responsible for implementing the URE when we reported findings—and the latter set of authors would offer their own reflexivity during debrief sessions and in the process of developing this manuscript. Collectively, our identities (in alignment with our conceptual framework and method) led us to focus on how participants noted and made sense of transitions through the lens of our own experiences navigating higher education rather than focusing on the processes (i.e. sequence of events) or details (i.e., how many applications they submitted, the cost of each application) of applying to graduate programs.

Findings

Although the URE facilitated belonging and support at the undergraduate level, it did not fully prepare participants for the unanticipated importance of the context in which they transitioned to graduate school. After leaving a residential undergraduate experience in one of the most diverse urban areas in the nation, students found that their graduate programs were less diverse when they were online or in different geographic regions, such as southern or mid-Atlantic states. Still, the URE’s focus on CRT provided participants with a foundation for understanding that when they encountered problematic unanticipated transitions, those challenges were part of structural inequalities and that they did not need to internalize problems or allow problems to diminish their own self-efficacy or science identity.

Planning to Transition From Undergraduate to Graduate Education

Rick identified as a Black man who was passionate about science and public policy. He was active in the university’s student government and had previously part of the community youth council when he was in high school. Although he was previously interested in environmental policy and public health, when he joined the URE, he became interested in toxicology. In 2020, he explained that the onset of the global COVID-19 pandemic had led him to consider taking a gap year or working before going to graduate school. However, even in that period of uncertainty, he still aspired to enroll in graduate school, and he explained that his uncertainty was about timing. He stated, “I don’t know if I would have wanted to go on to graduate education without [the URE],” which “really solidified my desire to go into science.” He further explained:

Before I joined [the URE] . . . my interaction and interest in the world was much smaller. I think I was more content with staying and working in California . . . and being in research and having funds available gave me the opportunity to travel the country. . . . Having science and the research—that gave me the confidence to want to go into a large organization and feel like I could be a part of it and contribute to it and contribute to the betterment of not only my community, but the state or the country in any small way.

By the following year (2021), Rick had applied to multiple graduate programs and was preparing to start a PhD program in toxicology at a Top 25 national university. He chose the program because it gave him an opportunity to address the intersection of science and public policy. He discussed how this decision related to the URE’s emphasis on CRT and other critical frameworks for using research to understand health inequities in society. He explained that CRT:

Gave a name to something I felt like I had seen or even experienced before, and then it just tuned me to being more aware of when I would see it. And I’m like, “why are there these circular [environmental and public health] policies that make no sense?” . . . And no one could give me an answer, and I guess then critical race theory sought to answer that problem or question.

In Rick’s narrative, the CRT-informed URE not only activated his aspirations for graduate school but also informed his choice of graduate school and his hope to use research to improve public policy to address healthcare disparities.

The URE also helped participants avoid decisions that might have been convenient in the short term but led them away from their longer-term goals. Alejandra identifies as a multiracial (Hispanic and Middle Eastern) woman who was low-income and the first in her family to attend college. As a college senior, she was admitted to a funded master’s program, but she explained, “I rejected it because it just wasn’t for me. The mentor didn’t do what I wanted to do.” Although she knew that turning down the admissions offer was the right choice, she explained:

I spent 3 months crying, like, “What am I going to do with my life?” I was really feeling down. I emailed [the URE director]. I’m like, “I’m crying. Help me. What do I do?” She’s like, “[the URE] will fund you. We’ll give you $40,000 to pay for your first year as a postbac [postbaccalaureate].” I was like, “Okay.” That’s what I’m doing now. So, everything was really bad, and it worked out in the end because it began, because of [the URE], and ended because of [the URE]. So, I’m very happy.

When we spoke again 1 year later, Alejandra discussed her experience transitioning into the postbaccalaureate program. She explained that being in one of the nation’s most research-intensive universities was “a pretty competitive environment, which I’m not used to” and discussed how she missed the campus where she was part of the URE. She explained that the URE “made a very collaborative and happy environment, and here’s just kind of independent and people just competing.” She elaborated that she saw herself as having been “a very sheltered woman with very strict parents, with a very comforting university in a very liberal place moving across the country to a job that . . . it’s not what she thought at all.”

Specifically, Alejandra faced an unanticipated transition with her postbaccalaureate adviser. She expected to work on research projects or have opportunities to be involved with clinical practice. Instead, she found herself primarily working as a receptionist and scheduling or translating for clients. She felt dismissed by her adviser. She described navigating an “identity crisis” between her context in the URE and her postbaccalaureate role: “It’s like I’m a growing scientist [the URE] birthed and nurtured, and then for [the postbaccalaureate adviser] to say, ‘By the way, I don’t think you’re good at anything.’ . . . I was so confused.” She fell back on her science identity and self-efficacy: “I’m like, ‘Well, I don’t get a chance to show my skills in data analyses or anything.’” She concluded, “It’s tough, but I don’t agree with her. . . . I’m reconsidering grad school not because she was like, ‘Oh, you suck.” More like ‘You suck, I don’t want to be with people like you.’”

One year later, we learned that Alejandra ultimately chose to continue with her plans for graduate school. After she was admitted to a PhD program, she quit her postbaccalaureate position before her contract expired. She remembered that moment as sparking “something in me.” She explained that when she left the postbaccalaureate position she: “confronted her, the White PI [Principal Investigator], and told her, ‘I feel like I’m first generation and you didn’t support me.’” She saw this as “channeling my inner [URE] teaching.” She remembered that the postbaccalaureate adviser “showed White fragility and started crying, saying she was upset and didn’t want to be called racist. . . . I didn’t call her racist!” The CRT lessons in the URE had prepared her to challenge the power dynamic and advocate for herself, and she realized the importance of mentoring when she found a supervisor who was fragile and not helpful: “That was a big . . . main character moment because I was like, ‘Okay, I spoke up to someone who was higher than me’ . . . which was scary for me, I’m alone here. And that’s completely fine—I’m going to a PhD program.” Alejandra enrolled in a PhD program in school psychology in the south.

Rachelle identified as a first-generation, Asian American, “intersectional feminist.” Her transition into graduate school was different than Rick and Alejandra, because she took a gap year. She graduated from college in Spring 2020 and took time to be intentional about choosing a graduate program. She attributed her aspiration to apply directly to doctoral programs to the URE: “Without them, I wouldn’t have had the courage to pursue a PhD right after undergrad because I couldn’t imagine or fathom that being an actual journey for me.” She further explained,

I really do feel that [the URE] instilled that confidence in me that I am a scientist, and I am capable of going into a PhD program—that this is what a scientist actually looks like . . . a lot of people in my department, their parents are already in academia, and getting a PhD or pursuing a career in academia, it’s so normal to them.

Unlike Rick, who wanted to work at the intersection of research and policy, or Alejandra, who was interested in careers that combined research and practice, Rachelle stated early on that she wanted “to be a PI and a researcher and a professor.” She had a negative experience with her research mentor in the URE, which did not invalidate the URE, as a whole, but it fueled her ambition: “I’m tired of seeing the mistreatment that undergrads get. . . . I’m just tired of them saying, ‘You’re exceptional.’ I feel like there can be more undergrads like me, but they’re just not given the opportunities.” Based on her positive experiences with the URE, such as publishing original research as an undergraduate student, she concluded

I don’t think of myself as smart or like this wunderkind or whatever. I’m just a normal student, a normal person and it’s like, “wow! I was able to pull that off,” imagine how many other students could pull it off if they were given that opportunity to. I’m just tired of people using undergrads for their busy work. They’re smarter than that.

After her gap year, Rachelle enrolled in an ecology PhD program in the mid-Atlantic where she sought to put this believe about undergraduate advising into practice (discussed below).

Gracie’s story shares a similarity with Rachelle’s in terms of the URE activating a passion for pursuing graduate education to improve academia. Gracie identified as a multiracial (Black, Filipina, and Dominican) woman. She applied to a variety of graduate programs in her last semester of college (Fall 2020) and chose to pursue a PhD in school psychology. Like other students whose self-confidence is worn down by lack of representation (Wofford, 2021), Gracie remembered experiencing imposter syndrome: “When it comes to applying to a PhD program, it’s very obvious, the lack of diversity, and me being someone of color, it was really hard.” Although “the lack of representation influenced my feelings,” she said she embraced the idea that “if I want anything to change, I need to be in those positions to change it and help other people who look like me get into these same positions.” The URE helped Gracie write a personal statement for her graduate school applications, and, drawing on her exposure to CRT, she wrote about addressing the lack of racial diversity. Unlike Rick or Rachelle, Gracie stayed in California for graduate school, although she moved to a different part of the state.

Taken together, these oral histories help us understand how students develop graduate school aspirations, connect their educational and career goals with the pursuit of addressing broader inequities in higher education and in society, and then actually go through the process of identifying programs and mentors who could help them achieve those goals. In Schlossberg and colleagues’ (1995) terminology, applying and enrolling in graduate school seems to be an anticipated transition that precedes the unanticipated transitions that can occur in graduate school. The quotes in this section offer understanding about how URE students navigated that anticipated transition. In the next section, we share how focal participants remembered the URE as influencing how they navigate graduate education.

After Admission: Continued Transition as Successful Graduate Students

Rick’s story recalls how the transition to graduate education is an elongated process with both anticipated and unanticipated challenges. The URE helped Rick anticipate academic challenges and prepared him to navigate them. In 2022, Rick explained that the “first semester of grad school, it was, I think, a lot easier than I anticipated.” Rick remembered that he “felt comfortable with the intellectual portions of the work” and attributed that to attending conferences and winning awards while in the URE, as well as “the span of the time that I had done research and the variety of research that I had done through summer experiences.” He shared that he knew students “that had gotten into grad school and to strong programs that had less experience than I had.”

However, after traveling during winter break, Rick found that “when I got back to school, it was a completely different world. Second semester was much more of a struggle. There was just a lot of things that happened all at once and they were almost unforgiving.” In addition to falling behind in courses, Rick encountered an unanticipated transition related to the last rotation of his first-year internship. Due to a change at his internship site, “the department that I was in decided they wouldn’t take grad students anymore. . . . A lot of key things and plans that I would’ve had for myself and for that semester did not pan out.”

Similar to Alejandra, Rick found himself navigating challenges without the familiar sources of support that were either more present or more accessible at the HSI where he completed his undergraduate work. He explained that as he sought mental health services at his doctoral institution, “the university plays less of a role.” He explained that he relied on friends and informal networks for support but that when he “wanted more professional and mental support . . . the resources of the campus are strained . . . because I would say that it’s just less of a priority.” At his doctoral university, he suspected that there was an “expectation that you’re able to take more.” Comparatively, the less-well-resourced URE institution, “even though they’ll never be able to fill the need, at least put more time and effort, I think, in trying or attempting to serve students.” It was notable that Rick explained that he never used mental health services at his undergraduate institution, but he knew how prevalent they were.

Even as Rick navigated increased academic stress and a changing internship site, he explained that he was surprised by “the extent that differences existed” between his HSI undergraduate institution in California and the elite, research university across the country. He shared: “I think what I had been told about [college town] and the area in general was less than my expectations or did not match my expectations.” Rick was part of a large lab where he “saw people who were more similar clustered together.” Although there was a fair amount of diversity in terms of the geography and nationality of his lab mates, it was not the diversity he was used to: “they are not from California. . . . Just the volume of difference in food and culture and people obviously is greater when you have 40 million people.”

By the fifth year of the study, Rick had stopped out of graduate education. He found that the doctoral institution did not provide the supports he was expecting. When he asked to be allowed to complete a terminal master’s degree, he was given a set of expectations that were so onerous they would take longer to complete than his original timeline for completing the PhD. He left the state and took a job that allowed him to work at the intersection of science and regulatory policy. He hoped to transfer his graduate course credits and complete a master’s degree at another institution. He stated that he was talking through his unexpected transition with other URE alumni. He had also reconnected with former URE mentors who were validating about how his negative experiences as a PhD student were endemic to graduate education and not a result of any personal shortcomings (see e.g., Gildersleeve et al., 2011)

Alejandra entered her PhD program (expected transition) after exiting her postbaccalaureate experience (unanticipated transition). After the postbaccalaureate, she began doctoral training with the certitude that she had more research skills than many undergraduates. She recalled that in her postbaccalaureate position, she worked in a team that “had a lot of undergrads and they didn’t know how to use SPSS. . . and I’m like, ‘wow, when I was [in the URE] I was making IRBs [Institutional Review Board protocols] already. I was collecting data.’” She did not attribute her research skills to having greater aptitude or talent than most undergraduates. Instead, she credited the URE with giving her an opportunity to learn and do research. When she realized she was so well prepared for her postbaccalaureate and doctoral research teams, she said, “I feel like I had a light in me all along. I just needed the right field to shine it and the right people to shine [with] in the right field.” Recall her frustration with not being able to use her research skill and with feeling demeaned by her postbaccalaureate adviser. Compared to the postbaccalaureate experience, Alejandra developed new confidence after leaving the fragile supervisor experience and having the opportunity to apply her URE training:

Now when I’m in [a] meeting, I’m the first one to talk. I’m the first one to share my opinion on Critical Race Theory. I talk about it all the time. And it’s because of [the URE]. And because of [my postbaccalaureate] where I didn’t have a good experience. But I learned. I’m like, oh, yeah, I’m powerful and [the URE] prepared me for that.

This quote shows how the URE provided Alejandra with the confidence to speak up. Because of her roots in the URE, she is confident and comfortable identifying as a scientist. She knows she belongs. Alejandra was not the only narrator to credit the URE with providing experiences—beyond research training—that helped them prepare for the transition to graduate school.

In 2023 Rachelle had finished her second year as a PhD student. She explained that even when “there were those really hard moments” in the URE and some interactions with URE research advisers were “toxic,” the URE as a whole “shaped the person I am today” and “taught me what to look out for” in terms of choosing graduate advisers and working with other students in the doctoral program. Specifically, the URE taught her that “as an undergrad, I am capable of doing scientific research at the level of something that could be published. They gave me the resources, the confidence to do all that stuff.” She concluded that she was “thankful that [the URE] gave me those opportunities.”

Rachelle’s explained that the URE taught her “what to look out for” and prepared her to fare well in the transition to a different geographical and institutional context:

Before I moved here, I interviewed with all the grad students in the department, and asked them their opinions. You know, there’s—out of a whole department, [there’s] like one person of color . . . and I just asked really blunt questions like, [are] the professors racist? . . . How is the DEI committee?. . . I made sure to do my research. . . . It’s also just researching the area, like I checked if there was any boba places or . . . restaurants that I would enjoy . . . and also thinking, “how much do you really want this?” . . . The reason I chose [this program] is because of my advisor. . . . I interviewed a lot of potential PIs. And she is the only one that really stuck out to me. Because I could, like, form a bond with her and be comfortable with her . . . outside of science. So again, I think it’s just doing that research. Interviewing lots of people. It’s tedious and time intensive.

Rachelle noted that she felt lucky she was able to take a gap year to research doctoral programs and to reflect on her motivations and commitment to pursuing a doctorate. In terms of navigating the application and enrollment processes, she explained: “You have to advocate for yourself, especially if you’re a Brown person” because “unfortunately, that’s just what we have to go through. And it’s not fair that we have to go through this extra work just to make sure that we can live safely and comfortably in a place.” She acknowledged that she could have picked a doctoral program closer to family and her undergraduate institution, “but none of the professors fit my needs, and that mattered more to me to have an adviser I can rely on and lean on [and] who would be really supportive of me outside of just my research.” Rachelle’s insistence on program fit paid off. As she transitioned to dissertation candidacy, she completed several international data collection trips, mentored undergraduates, and started a science outreach program at local public schools. In short, she was well on her way to fulfilling the aspirations she remembered developing in the URE.

As she progressed in her doctoral program, Gracie realized she was overcoming the imposter syndrome that beset her while applying to graduate school. In 2022, she noted that the URE had given her a chance to figure out whether she liked doing research: “I had 3 years’ worth of research experience, and now that I’m here . . . I don’t know why I ever told myself I couldn’t do it.” However, she also acknowledged that moving to an elite doctoral university in a different part of the state, she “thought transitioning would be easier for me, and while it was still easy, I guess in the sense of school, I think outside of school . . . it was different.” She described her new geographical and institutional context:

It’s an extremely White town, a White affluent town, and I’m obviously not that. So it was definitely a culture shock coming from . . . one of the most diverse campuses in America. Seeing that difference was really huge to me. And while my program is very diverse, which I love, the school is just not. And they say they are, and I’m like, “I don’t really see it.” So trying to find my own community and my friends and my program (which is amazing) and joining the Black Grad Student Association . . . just finding that community.

By 2024, Gracie affirmed that the URE had prepared her to succeed through her third year in the PhD program. She explained that not only had the URE helped her navigate entry into graduate education, but it had also helped her “be competent enough to go off to conferences now and be comfortable. Some of the people in my program were going to conferences for the first time and had no idea what to expect.” Compared to her peers who were experiencing presenting at a research conference for the first time, Gracie felt confident: “I’ve been doing this for so long. I’ve been doing this since 2017. . . . It was eye-opening to reflect on how far I’ve come, and I feel like [the URE] has had such a huge impact on me.”

Rick, Alejandra, Rachelle, and Gracie all credited the URE with helping them navigate the graduate school application process to transition from undergraduate to graduate education. Through the years, they also remembered the URE as a strong foundation for continued success as they transitioned from being first-year to second- and even third-year graduate students.

The Transition From Studying CRT to Living It

In the sections above, we alluded to the benefits of infusing CRT throughout the URE. However, focal participants provided additional rationale to explain how it was such an important component of how they navigated transitions in graduate education. For instance, after his second year of PhD study, Rick explained that the URE “provided experiences that I could draw upon. He compared his orientation to the PhD program with that of his peers:

I just felt like a lot of the [education and research] experiences that they had, were more idyllic . . . . [The URE’s] message is, “we are here working to help you because we see that there are all these problems and your research and the work that you do can all be tied into making a better society.” And that was not like a message that these people got. I felt like [the URE] helped instill a mission or an equity lens that I have over everything, or maybe are more sensitive and attuned to, then I would have otherwise had.

Alejandra’s narratives provide two examples of how learning about CRT through the URE influenced her development. Following Errante’s (2000) instruction about how memory is negotiated between the interviewer and narrator, she referred back to prior interviews (“I think about that a lot”). In 2023, she recalled:

I remember . . . 2 years ago, when the George Floyd thing happened . . . you asked me, “What do you think about that?” I said, “Let’s skip the question.” Because I still hadn’t developed my idea of social justice. Of course, I knew it was wrong at the time. But that’s the extent to what . . . I was able to think about that situation.

In 2024, she explained, talking about her developing understanding of CRT. She shared that as an undergraduate student she could not fully understand CRT: “not because [the URE] didn’t do a good job, [but] because I just couldn’t grasp the content the time. I was living in this little bubble, living with my parents, where I was like, life is so good.” Alejandra went on to explain, “I feel like to understand CRT . . . I had to leave my comfort zone.” At that point, she referred to how she confronted her postbaccalaureate supervisor (described above). She remembered that through that experience she realized “Oh, wait, [the URE mentor] was right! It wasn’t until I experienced that painful experience with my ex-PI where I sat down [and] I was like, ‘Oh my God, everything [my URE mentor] said was right!’” She continued, explaining that she finally understood:

The power dynamic and how there’s this hierarchy in this world, and even when we’re in a helping profession and the goal is for you to train me so I can go and help other people, because I wasn’t as fit as her other White grad students. . . . I felt, like, exploited. . . . I felt like I was privileged in the sense—not in the sense of money and power, but in the sense that I couldn’t see money or power differences, or hierarchical differences, because we were on the same playing field. It wasn’t until I left to an R1 . . . because of how amazing [the URE] is . . . when you leave that world, you’re like, “Oh, my God, I took—I take it for granted, because now I’m here. And this PI is exploiting me!”

Parts of these narratives discuss the challenge of moving away from the familiarity of a diverse HSI. Alejandra also reveals how transitions, mediated by time and distance, helped her come to more fully understand the importance of understanding the contexts of institutional and structural racism and how they become normalized in higher education. She is able to articulate these insights because of her exposure to CRT, which was embedded in the URE.

After 2 years in graduate school, Rachelle spoke about how she continues to expand her understanding of the role of race and racism in society. She admitted that “being Brown while everyone who’s in my circle is White is a bit tough.” She explained:

It is sometimes hard, because there are some times where like, the issues I’m having. . . . I know they don’t really understand. . . . I can even call them out on times where I felt like this was something based on race and how I felt. . . . we’ve had our tiffs before, and they’ve never been defensive. . . . They’ve always apologized for how they’ve made me feel and promised to do better. So yeah, it’s hard only having White people in my inner circle. But it’s also like a learning opportunity for me to not really see things as black and white. . . . Obviously, they still have that privilege, and they should know it, but it’s showing me that these are people I could actually trust.

As these focal participants explore different ways of navigating and responding to the existence of racism in society, they repeatedly refer to the URE and its lessons on CRT.

Discussion and Implications

Although Black and Hispanic students are underrepresented in graduate education, admission is only half the problem. Underrepresented students have been increasingly admitted to doctoral programs (McKenzie et al., 2023), but those programs have poor retention track records (Nettles & Millett, 2006) as many underrepresented students never complete their degrees (Sowell et al., 2015). Prior research has identified UREs as an influential practice for helping underrepresented students develop aspirations for, and facilitating better academic preparation and higher odds of applying to, graduate programs (Bowman & Holmes, 2018; Eagan et al., 2024; Fernandez et al., 2024b; Harsh et al., 2011; P. R. Hernandez et al., 2018; Lopatto, 2007).

In this paper, we analyzed data from an oral history project to understand how current graduate students remembered their participation in a CRT-informed URE as preparing them for the anticipated and unanticipated transitions they encountered while pursuing graduate degrees. We followed URE participants for 5 years and spoke with focal participants about their experiences pursuing graduate degrees. The longitudinal nature of our project was important because it addressed a limitation in prior research (English & Umbach, 2016) and helped us understand how students can use lessons they learned as undergraduates to spend a gap year to carefully choose and enroll in a PhD program.

We found that participants remembered the URE influencing how they identified, filtered, and selected graduate school opportunities. They also credited the URE with preparing them for the academic and research training that defines graduate education. The URE did not directly or fully prepare them for the challenges (i.e., unanticipated transitions) inherent in transitioning from a diverse, supportive undergraduate environment to highly selective and competitive environments at doctoral universities. However, it gave them a framework, CRT, that helped them avoid internalizing negative experiences and, instead, helped them process negative experiences as endemic to academia and society. This finding complements Wofford’s (2021) work, which examined self-confidence as a key mechanism in how students aspire to pursue graduate education. In this study, CRT gave students like Alejandra and Rachelle a perspective to maintain or even increase their self-confidence and not be deterred by negative experiences with supervisors or mentors (see also our discussion of Perez, 2016).

The URE’s emphasis on CRT matters within the context of this study, as well as for making public policy decisions related to training researchers and funding research. Participants in this oral history study linked learning about CRT with developing a commitment to using their education and training to support the public good by working to address public health, scientific, and educational inequities. However, states have increasingly sought to ban universities and faculty from teaching CRT (e.g., Miller et al., 2023). Additionally, in the first year of the second Trump administration, the federal government began to scrutinize and cancel federal grants that support projects that focus on diversity, equity, and inclusion, what were referred to as “wasteful DEI grants” (Schwartz, 2025). An NIH spokesman defended defunding “research that prioritized ideological agendas over scientific rigor and meaningful outcomes for the American people” (Spitalniak, 2025). However, this study offers empirical evidence that teaching about CRT not only draws students into pursuing research to improve public health and educational outcomes, but it is also an important framework that can help early career researchers navigate the anticipated and unanticipated transitions they encounter when pursuing graduate education.

In terms of theoretical implications, this study adds to those few higher education studies that apply transition theory to examine pathways to and through graduate education (e.g., Gardner 2010; Y. Zhang, 2016). Goodman et al. (2006) propose a typology of different types of transitions and resources that can help people cope as they navigate transitions. While the distinction between anticipated and unanticipated transitions is helpful, this study suggests that there may be experiences or ways of thinking that can help with both types of transitions. Specifically, exposure to URE and CRT helped the participants navigate anticipated transitions (e.g., thinking about what to look for when choosing a graduate program) and unanticipated transitions (e.g., negative interactions with a supervisor or mentor). Among the four types of coping resources outlined by Goodman et al. (2006), the URE stands out as a Support resource in the ways that it created a community of peers and mentors who can help individuals in transition identify and assess their options.

CRT weaves together different types of coping resources. It offers a lens for understanding “Self” and the social identities that one brings to a transition. As Goodman et al. (2006) explain, this matters because “people who inhabit different parts of the social system life, in many ways, in very different contexts, have different resources, and are affected differently by different events” (p. 65). Additionally, learning about CRT gave URE participants a coping resource that Goodman et al. (2006) call “Strategies” (p. 78). They explain that researchers see “the coping strategies a person uses as more relevant than the event, hassle, or strain and the person’s appraisal of the situation as more central than the event” (p. 81). Recall how Alejandra drew on her understanding of CRT as a coping strategy to understand the challenges she was having with her postbaccalaureate PI; it allowed her to understand those events as part of systematic problems in higher education rather than a personal failing. This study suggests that future educational research may focus on identifying interventions and practices, such as UREs and teaching CRT, that prepare students to face and process both anticipated and unanticipated challenges, rather than trying to reveal unanticipated challenges, which are innumerable and contextually dependent.

Implications for Practice

Universities have adopted an array of UREs with varying durations, formats, and emphases (e.g., Ahmad & Al-Thani, 2022; Hu et al., 2007). Although we acknowledge that our findings are not directly generalizable, we encourage campus practitioners and faculty members to consider ways they are exposing undergraduate students to research. Whatever the merits of different URE designs, our oral history approach suggests that students may continue to return to positive and negative URE experiences as they progress toward and through graduate school. This pattern—the prevalence of the URE in the memories of students’ pathways to graduate school—should caution and challenge practitioners to consider the types of lessons that students take from UREs and carry with them over multiple years.

The focal participants also indicated that they appreciated the welcoming environment of their URE and its broader campus community, but they were not fully prepared to navigate different geographic and institutional contexts. HSI faculty and administrators have been called upon to create welcoming communities with cultures devoted to serving students (e.g., G. A. Garcia, 2023), because, like other organizations (Ray, 2019), HSIs are racialized (Vega et al., 2022). Understandably, campus stakeholders may focus on cultivating sense of belonging and safe spaces within undergraduate campuses. However, inasmuch as UREs are meant to send students away from HSIs—or even to less diverse HSIs with prominent doctoral programs—program leaders and mentors may also consider focusing on preparing students to anticipate the challenges of navigating a different campus climate (e.g., enrolling at a PWI, or a more research-intensive university, or a more rural university, or a university in a less diverse state). Exposing students to CRT provided them with a framework for responding to or processing problematic events, but practitioners may aim to move those kinds of challenges from the category of unanticipated transitions to the category of anticipated ones. Finally, centering CRT in UREs and potentially other high-impact practices around campuses can help inspire institutional transformation by dismantling racialized campus policies and practices (Ray, 2019; Vega et al., 2022).

Limitations

Errante (2000) notes the major limit of oral history: “Historian and narrator may negotiate a story, but some stories lie beyond the oral history event because either the historian or the narrator is not part of the context of remembering in which a particular story is told” (p. 17). Therefore, the method is best suited to understanding a commonly experienced event. Nevertheless, while the interviewers did not experience graduate education alongside the focal participants, they had experience pursuing their own graduate degrees. This project used oral history to understand how a URE program prepared participants to transition into and through graduate school. It is outside the scope of the project to consider the transitions of non-URE graduate students.

Conclusion

Compared to attending a local undergraduate program, attending doctoral programs is akin to entering a world apart from our own. Whether students stay in their home state (Gracie) or move across the country (Rick, Alejandra, Rachelle), they are traversing important transitions in geographic, demographic, and cultural contexts. If higher education researchers, practitioners, and policymakers want to improve diversity in graduate education and among trained researchers or faculty, they should consider why too many underrepresented students drop out of graduate education—and not merely why too few are admitted. This study provides important insights about how an innovative URE can support students through multiple transitions by providing them with a framework—CRT—to make sense of unanticipated challenges they face en route to the PhD.