When The Bird’s Nest started, I don’t think any of us could have fully predicted what it would become. What began with a small group of students and a belief that students needed more opportunities to actually do the work has grown into something much bigger: a community, a portfolio builder, a professional launchpad, and now, an independent nonprofit organization.

Year 5 feels different.

This is very much a building year for us. We have celebrated a lot of graduations over the past few years which is exactly what you want to happen with a student-focused organization. People grow. They graduate. They get jobs. They take what they learned and move into their next chapter. But that also means you eventually look around and realize it is time to build the next generation of leaders.

Here is where we are at now. The Bird’s Nest is an independent 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization focused on providing experiential learning, mentorship, professional development, and real-world strategic communication opportunities for students and emerging professionals. Meaning that TBN is not affiliated with or part of any university. That independence gives us an exciting opportunity to think bigger about what this community can become, who can participate, who we can collaborate with, and how we can create experiences that bridge education and industry.

I believe deeply in experiential learning because there are some things you simply cannot learn from a PowerPoint slide, textbook chapter, or exam. You can teach someone the principles of client communication, but it feels very different when they are sitting across the table from an actual client.

You can discuss deadlines in class, but a real deadline carries a different level of accountability. You can talk about strategy, creativity, research, content, analytics, crisis communication, and teamwork but eventually you need opportunities to put those skills into practice.

Over the past five years, I have watched students walk into their first client meeting nervous and walk out months later confidently presenting ideas, managing relationships, creating campaigns, leading teams, and talking about their work in job interviews. Those transformations are why experiential learning matters so much to me.

It is one thing to tell a potential employer that you understand social media strategy. It is another to pull up your portfolio and say, Here’s the strategy I created. Here’s what we did. Here are the results. And here’s what I learned.

As we enter Year 5, I am particularly excited about the clients and community we are bringing together. We will have opportunities spanning different industries, organizations, challenges, and audiences—which means our members are going to have opportunities to stretch themselves professionally. I don’t want someone leaving TBN with five examples of essentially the same project. I want them to be able to demonstrate range. Year 5 is also about something bigger than client work.

We are building community.

I want TBN to be a place where students, alumni, educators, industry professionals, mentors, community partners, and organizations can come together. A place where someone can learn from a professional one week and then turn around and mentor someone else the next. A place where relationships continue after a project ends or someone graduates.

Because the best experiential learning programs aren’t simply about giving students assignments.

They’re about giving students access. Access to rooms they haven’t been in yet. Access to professionals they can learn from. Access to clients willing to trust them. Access to feedback. Access to leadership opportunities. And sometimes, access to someone who simply says, I think you’re ready. Go for it.

Looking back at the last five years, there are a few things that have consistently worked for us.

• Give students real responsibility. If we want emerging professionals to learn accountability, we have to give them something they are actually accountable for. That means real clients, expectations, deadlines, deliverables, and consequences. It also means resisting the temptation to step in and fix everything for them.

• Let them lead before they feel completely ready. Some of the best growth I have seen has happened when someone was given an opportunity slightly outside their comfort zone. Leadership doesn’t magically appear after graduation. We have to create safe opportunities to practice it before then.

• Treat the portfolio as part of the experience and not an afterthought. Students should constantly be asking: What am I learning? What am I creating? What can I document? How will I explain my contribution? Experiential learning becomes even more powerful when students learn how to translate an experience into their professional narrative.

• Bring industry into the room. The closer we can connect education with what is actually happening in the profession, the better prepared students will be. Clients, mentors, guest speakers, professional organizations, events, conferences, and industry partnerships all give students a broader understanding of where their careers could go.

• Make relationships the real ROI. Campaigns end. Social posts disappear down the feed. Platforms change. Relationships stick around. Some of the most meaningful outcomes from TBN have come from the connections created between students, professionals, clients, mentors, and each other.

And the biggest lesson of all: let students cook. Give them the ingredients. Give them some guidance. Give them a kitchen where it is okay to experiment. Then get out of the way enough for them to surprise you.

Year 5 isn’t about trying to recreate Years 1 through 4. That’s not what growth looks like. Organizations evolve. People graduate. Brands change. Leadership changes. New opportunities appear. Sometimes growth looks like expansion, and sometimes growth looks like rebuilding the foundation so you can create something even stronger.

That’s what this year feels like for The Bird’s Nest.

• A rebrand.

• A rebuild.

• A new generation.

• An opportunity to take everything we have learned over the last five years and ask a much more exciting question:

What could the next five look like?

I don’t know exactly where that answer will take us yet and I actually think that’s part of the fun.

What I do know is that we are going to keep creating opportunities. We are going to keep connecting students with industry. We are going to keep building portfolios, relationships, confidence, and community.

Most importantly, we are going to keep giving the next generation a place to learn, experiment, lead, and grow.

Year 5 is here.

Time to build.

I love being busy and having projects to work on (and thanks to coffee, I am able to do that!). I love learning, creating, teaching, writing, and finding opportunities that keep me connected to the industry. That connection is especially important to me because I don’t want to talk about what is happening in PR, social media, AI, and personal branding from the sidelines.

I want to be part of those conversations, learn from the people doing the work, bring those lessons back into the classroom, and hopefully contribute something along the way.

As professors and professionals in our industry that is updatingand evolving SO much, we do spend so much time talking about productivity, especially in academia and professional spaces. What are you working on? What’s next? What are you adding to your CV, portfolio, LinkedIn, or personal brand? I love a good goal as much as anyone, but constantly being busy isn’t something we should aspire to. Burnout shouldn’t be the price of ambition.

How do we create balance?

For me, one of the easiest ways to do that is Mando. Whether it’s a walk, an adventure to the dog park, playing outside, or simply hanging out together, he is a pretty great reminder that the email can wait. Australian Shepherds also have a very effective way of letting you know when you have been sitting at your computer for too long.

Working out is another big one for me. It gives me a place to step away from everything else, challenge myself in a completely different way, and reset.

I have been an Orangetheory member since late 2018 and it has truly been a game changer for me. Some workouts are amazing. Some are very much a “well, I showed up” situation. Some are even “what was I thinking doing this today?!!” I’ve learned that making that time for myself isn’t taking time away from my work. It actually helps me show up better for it.

Perhaps that’s the question we should be asking ourselves more often:

Not what looks impressive online. Not what everyone else is doing. Not what you feel like you should be doing. What actually gives you energy?

Embrace the trail mix of life. I think sometimes we have to realize we are not just one role or thing in life. We are a mixture of things - like trailmix! We have different ingredients, roles, and aspects of who we are as people.

Teaching and seeing students connect the dots. Writing and creating. Speaking and meeting new people. Staying close to the industry and learning what’s coming next. Working out. Fashion. Travel. Time with family and friends. Mando. And sometimes having conversations that have absolutely nothing to do with work.

I need all of those things because I don’t think balance means doing less. Balance means being more intentional about what gets your time and energy.

There will always be another opportunity, project, platform, meeting, email, or idea. Trust me, I probably have another idea already. The challenge isn’t finding more things to do. It’s figuring out which things deserve a place on your calendar and which things deserve a polite “not right now” or even “nah! I am good!” I’m trying not to focus on becoming the busiest version of myself. I’d rather become a more intentional version.

Do great work. Chase the opportunities that genuinely excite you. Stay curious. Keep learning. Say yes to something that scares you a little. Stay connected to the people and industries that inspire you.

Put it on the calendar even the things that fill your cup. If something matters to you, give it space on your calendar. I have learned that if I don't protect time for some of these things, something else will happily take its place. Your calendar shouldn't just be a record of where everyone else needs you. It should also reflect what you say matters.

Know your boundaries and your non-negotiables. Decide what you are willing to flex on and what you aren't. There will always be another meeting, request, project, or "quick favor" competing for your attention. Boundaries aren't about saying no to everything as they help you say a better yes.

Think about the narrative behind your professional investments. Before saying yes to another opportunity, ask yourself:

Think ahead to your annual report, CV, portfolio, LinkedIn, personal brand, or even your next career opportunity. You don't need 20 disconnected activities just to prove you were busy. A few intentional investments that reinforce your expertise, values, relationships, and future direction can tell a much stronger story.

Take a moment to relax. Take the walk. Go on that trip. Go to the movies or concert. Do the workout. Spend time with your people. Play with the dog. Put the phone down occasionally. Touch grass.

You do want to attention to what fills your cup because you don’t have to do everything this semester. However, you do need to make sure the things you choose to do still leave enough room for you.

Yet, this year, I’ve been thinking less about what I want to do differently and more about how I want to show up differently. One word keeps coming back to me:

I’m not talking about the inspirational-poster version of kindness or the generic “be nice to everyone” message we have heard since elementary school.

I mean intentional, active, professional kindness - the kind that recognizes there is an actual human being on the other side of the email, assignment, meeting, comment, deadline, disagreement, or LinkedIn post.

Somewhere along the way, particularly in professional spaces, I think we started treating kindness as a bonus rather than part of how we should operate. We celebrate efficiency, productivity, expertise, ambition, and results (and we should!) but none of those things require us to leave our humanity at the door.

I keep thinking back to the feelings we experienced during the World Cup. Yes, there was competition. There were teams we wanted to win and moments that made us yell at televisions as though the players could somehow hear our very important strategic advice from the couch. But there was also something bigger happening.

People wore the colors. They cheered together. They celebrated strangers. They experienced disappointment together. They hugged people they had never met. For a little while, titles, résumés, follower counts, organizational charts, academic credentials, and all of the other things we use to categorize ourselves became much less important. We were simply people experiencing something together.

There was joy in that. There was community in that. There was a willingness to root loudly for other people. And I keep wondering why we are so willing to embrace that feeling during a major sporting event but so quick to return to our individual corners afterward. What would happen if we brought a little of that World Cup energy into our classrooms, workplaces, industries, professional communities, and even our social media feeds? What if we actually rooted for each other a little more?

Kindness and High Standards

Sometimes I think we have created a strange professional narrative where kindness and high standards are somehow incompatible. They aren’t. You can expect excellent work and still be kind. You can give difficult feedback and still be respectful. You can establish boundaries without trying to punish someone. You can disagree without making the disagreement personal. You can celebrate your own accomplishments without diminishing someone else’s. And you can be incredibly ambitious while still holding the door open for the person coming behind you.

That is especially important as we return to the classroom. Every August, students walk through our doors carrying things we cannot see. Some are excited. Some are terrified. Some are questioning whether they belong. Some are working multiple jobs. Some have their entire careers mapped out, while others are trying to figure out what they want to do with their lives while simultaneously being asked what they plan to do with their lives approximately every five minutes. Some are sitting in your classroom hoping that maybe this will be the class where something finally clicks.

That’s an enormous privilege for educators. It doesn’t mean making everything easy. My students know I believe in challenging them, giving them real-world expectations, encouraging them to stretch beyond what they thought they could do, and preparing them for an industry that isn’t going to stop changing simply because the syllabus says we’re done with that module.

Yet, I also want them to know that I am rooting for them. There is a difference between challenging someone because you want to see what they can become and challenging someone simply because you can. Students remember that difference. Frankly, employees and colleagues do too.

The same philosophy applies outside of the classroom. Think about the best people you have worked with throughout your career. Chances are, you don’t remember every presentation they gave or every line on their résumé. You remember how they made you feel. They answered the question you were nervous to ask. They gave you credit when you weren’t in the room. They made the introduction. They recommended you for the opportunity. They checked in after the difficult meeting. They sent a message when you needed one. They celebrated your win without immediately telling you about theirs.

Most of those things take less than five minutes, yet they can shape relationships, reputations, careers, and sometimes someone’s entire perception of whether they belong in a profession.

We spend so much time talking about networking, leadership, personal branding, influence, and professional presence. Maybe we should spend a little more time thinking about what kind of person people experience when they interact with our brand.

Social media adds another interesting layer because now even kindness can become content. We can post the congratulations, document the mentoring moment, or tell everyone about the person we helped.

There is nothing inherently wrong with sharing those moments, but some of the most meaningful things we will ever do for another person will never make the feed.

• Send the private congratulations.

• Recommend someone when they aren’t in the room.

• Give the student another few minutes after class.

• Tell someone their presentation was excellent.

• Share someone’s work because it deserves more attention.

• Make the introduction.

• Answer the question.

• Say thank you.

• Give credit where it is due.

• And lastly - perhaps practice one of the most underrated professional skills of all: genuinely being happy when something good happens to someone else.

This is the energy I want to carry into this academic year. I want to remember that we’re allowed to root loudly for people. Someone else’s win doesn’t take anything away from ours. Competition can exist alongside respect. Excellence and humanity don’t have to be opposing forces. And sometimes the smallest interaction can completely change someone’s day, or even the direction they believe their career can go.

We’re going to spend a lot of time this year talking about AI, emerging technology, personal brands, social media, the future of work, and the skills students need for careers that are changing almost daily. Those conversations matter enormously to me. But perhaps as technology becomes more sophisticated, the distinctly human things become even more valuable: empathy, curiosity, encouragement, generosity, and kindness. AI can help us write the email. It can’t decide what kind of person we want to be when we send it.

So as we start another academic year, here’s my challenge:

• To my students, my colleagues, my industry friends, and myself. Root for somebody. Send the note. Make the introduction. Give the compliment. Share the opportunity. Celebrate the win. Invite someone into the conversation. Be generous with your knowledge.

Also know that we rarely know everything someone else is carrying when they walk into the room. We may not have a stadium full of people cheering beside us every day, but we can still bring a little of that energy with us into the classroom, into the office, into our communities, and maybe even into the comment section.

There seems to be a race in higher education to be the place. The first university with an AI major or program. The first department to launch a creator economy center. The first NIL agency. The first journal. The first class. The first initiative. The first announcement on LinkedIn proclaiming that you’ve changed the future of education as we know it.

Yes, innovation is exciting. We absolutely need people willing to take risks, be bold, and try new ideas, and push our profession forward. I absolutely admire the educators who are willing to raise their hand and say, “Let’s build something that doesn’t exist yet.”

Yet, here’s what I’ve learned after spending years working at the intersection of academia and industry.

The real challenge is whether you can keep showing up after the announcement is over.

The creator economy has taught us this lesson over and over again. Every day someone launches a new newsletter, podcast, YouTube channel, consulting business, course, or community. Very few people are truly the first to cover a topic. Yet some become trusted voices while others quietly disappear.

Why?

That’s a lesson I think higher education could borrow. Sometimes I worry we spend so much time trying to tell everyone we’re the first that we forget to focus on becoming the best. Press releases are exciting. Coverage in mainstream news is awesome. Ribbon cuttings are fun. New logos and announcements generate attention.

We have to remember that attention isn’t the same thing as impact. Students don’t remember a press release, but they do remember the professor who challenged them to think differently. They also remember the mentor who opened a door for them, and they also remember the class that prepared them for a job they actually wanted.

Industry partners don’t stay because your program was first. They stay because your graduates consistently deliver, your faculty stay engaged with the profession, and your program evolves alongside the industry instead of trying to catch up with it.

That’s a much harder goal and a much more meaningful one.

One of the things I’ve always appreciated about the creator economy is that it has leveled the playing field.

You don’t need the biggest institution, the biggest budget, or the biggest marketing team to make an impact anymore. Sometimes the people creating the most meaningful work are doing it from a small office, a coffee shop, or a classroom with a handful of students who simply want to build something great.

The same is true in higher education. Some of the most innovative educators I know aren’t at the universities everyone talks about. They aren’t waiting for permission. They aren’t waiting for the perfect committee, the perfect budget, or the perfect timing.

What are these educators doing?

• They’re simply doing the work.

• They’re building partnerships.

• They’re updating their curriculum every semester instead of every five years.

• They’re experimenting with AI before someone tells them they should.

• They’re asking industry what students actually need to know.

• They’re helping students create work that lives beyond the classroom.

What is important to note is that this kind of work doesn’t always make headlines, but it does something bigger and more impactful: It changes lives.

When I think about my own work (whether it’s integrating social media into the classroom years ago, building experiential learning opportunities through The Bird’s Nest, revising my books every edition, or exploring how AI is reshaping our profession), I’ve realized my goal was never to be able to say I was first.

My goal has always been to stay curious enough to keep improving. Because the moment we think we’ve “arrived” is probably the moment we stop growing.

If our teaching, research, and professional development aren’t evolving alongside those changes, then eventually our students (and our colleagues) will notice.

That’s why I think documenting your expertise is just as important as developing it.

• Share what you’re learning.

• Write about what you’re testing.

• Take people behind the scenes of your classroom, your research, your collaborations, and even your failures.

Ironically, that’s often how you become “the person” people think of in your field. Not because you declared yourself to be, but because your work speaks for itself.

A Few Things I Keep Coming Back To

One of the best investments you can make is documenting your expertise instead of simply announcing it. Show your process. Share your lessons learned. Let people see how your thinking evolves over time. Expertise isn’t a destination—it’s a conversation that continues throughout your career.

• Don’t confuse launching with leading. Starting something is exciting, but sustaining it is what earns trust. The educators and professionals I admire most aren’t the ones with the flashiest announcements. They’re the ones who continue refining, improving, and showing up long after everyone else has moved on to the next trend.

• Stay ridiculously curious. Read outside your discipline. Follow creators, practitioners, entrepreneurs, and researchers who challenge your thinking. Some of the best ideas I’ve brought into my classroom came from conversations that had nothing to do with academia.

• Build with people, not for them. Whether it’s students, alumni, industry professionals, or community partners, the strongest ideas are rarely created in isolation. Collaboration doesn’t weaken your expertise but it strengthens it.

• Your reputation is built in the ordinary moments. Every class you teach. Every student you mentor. Every article you publish. Every conversation you have. Every time you help someone without expecting anything in return. Those small moments add up to something much bigger than a headline ever could.

At the end of the day, there will always be another university announcing a new major. Another department launching a center. Another institution claiming they’re leading the future.

This is all good as competition makes all of us better. However, when everyone else is racing to be first, I’d rather spend my time building something that students, colleagues, and industry professionals still find valuable years from now.

My calendar was not empty (I do not think it ever was!) but instead it was full. Like color coded full that looked like all of the colors of the rainbow!

Why do I say this? Well, here’s what I had just for this summer for my calendar:

• My courses to prepare for the fall term

• A nonprofit to lead

• Book chapters, projects, and manuscripts

• Industry meetings and calls

• Trips to coordinate and plan for holidays, conferences, and family

• Conference talks

• Workouts (OTF classes for the win!)

Of course in the line of all of this - I had to make sure I also had time to answer emails, update my website and branding, sleep (important!), eat (equally important!), walk Mando and spend time with him (1000 percent important) and much more. I knew I was busy, but I was not too surprised. What I was surprised about was that this was for my summer - and what would my semester look like?

Just in my calendar, there were many decisions, tasks, and steps that I had to keep track of and manage for timing, deadline, and collaboration expectations - which each calendar invite equalled to at least a few moving pieces that seem to expand even more as the days go by.

I always felt that this was the way it was for me - as a professor who wears many hats and does a lot in a day (thanks to coffee of course!). However, I have found that higher education in general often celebrates “busyness” as if exhaustion is evidence of commitment.

I don’t believe that anymore and I stopped trying to become a more productive professor. I’ve tried to be more efficient with the tasks I do have to do, so it allows me to focus on the work that needs my creativity, strategy, and human perspectives.

Yes, I am talking about how to build AI into your workflow as a professor while staying human (and sane!)

AI is more than a ChatBot

Whenever I speak to faculty or student groups about AI, I usually hear one of two reactions:

• The first group is excited but unsure where to begin. They might ask ChatGPT to brainstorm discussion questions, summarize an article, or draft a course announcement. Those are perfectly reasonable starting points.

• The second group remains skeptical, and I understand why. If your primary exposure to AI has been headlines about cheating, hallucinations, misinformation, or fears that technology will replace educators, it’s easy to dismiss the entire conversation.

When I looked closely at my work, I realized the majority of my time wasn’t being spent teaching.

It was being spent managing deadlines, projects, emails, reminders, versions of documents, calendars, and information spread across dozens of platforms.

None of those things are why I became a professor. They are simply the operational costs of being one.

Building My AI Faculty Avengers Team

I’ve started joking that I have an entire Avengers Team working alongside me.Instead of viewing AI as one giant tool, I’ve built a collection of specialized assistants that each serve a specific purpose.

• One understands my teaching responsibilities.

• Another focuses on nonprofit reminders and tasks.

• Another keeps an eye on industry trends.

• Another helps organize projects.

Together, they function less like software and more like a well-organized office. The beauty is that none of these assistants replace my judgment. They simply make sure I’m spending my judgment where it matters most.

My Sunday Faculty Meeting (With AI)

One of my favorite systems happens every Sunday morning. Yes, I do some work on the weekend - it helps me keep prepared and ready for the upcoming week.

First thing in the morning, I receive an overview for the week ahead. Rather than asking myself, “Where do I even begin?” AI summarizes each of my active courses, reminds me about discussion boards that need attention, flags grading priorities, highlights assignments students may have questions about, and even suggests materials that might need refreshing before the week begins.

Here’s the thing here to remember with this - AI isn’t deciding how I teach, grade, or write. It’s simply helping me walk into Monday already organized before I’ve had my coffee. This is an entirely different level of support.

Instead of spending an hour figuring out what deserves my attention, I spend five minutes reviewing a thoughtfully prepared briefing and immediately begin working on the things that require my expertise.

That one workflow alone has changed how my weeks begin.

Running The Bird’s Nest Like an Executive

Leading a nonprofit while teaching full-time has reinforced another lesson. Leadership isn’t about knowing everything, but it is about knowing what needs your attention.

Every Monday morning, I receive a strategic briefing for The Bird’s Nest. Rather than digging through emails, meeting notes, project updates, and scattered documents, AI prepares a concise executive summary highlighting student leadership updates, active client work, deadlines, milestones, partner commitments, and the decisions that require me.

As leaders, our value isn’t found in remembering every detail as our value comes from making thoughtful decisions.

If AI can gather the information before I walk into those decisions, then I’m spending my energy where it creates the greatest impact.

Professors Need Better Systems

If I could give faculty one piece of advice, it wouldn’t be to learn another AI tool. It would be to spend one afternoon documenting how you already work.

• Where do your projects begin?

• What tasks happen every Monday?

• Which emails do you write repeatedly?

• How do you prepare for class?

• What reminders do you always forget?

• Which documents are constantly being updated?

Those recurring patterns are opportunities and AI can support these. It quietly removes friction so you can spend more time mentoring students, creating meaningful assignments, collaborating with colleagues, or simply thinking.

Thinking has become one of our most undervalued professional activities. In fact, AI is helping me reclaim more time to do exactly that.

Every Professor Should Have Their Own AI Team

If I were building an AI office for every faculty member, I wouldn’t start with a chatbot.

I’d start with roles.

• Imagine having one assistant dedicated to instructional design.

• Another that tracks your research agenda throughout the year.

• Another that monitors developments in your discipline and brings only the most relevant updates to your attention.

• One that helps identify industry partners for experiential learning. Another that reviews your course each semester and points out outdated examples before students ever see them.

Each role has a specific task and set of criteria to use, and you have to decide the specifics of each of these roles and the overall benefits of these for your work.

For example, I hate (and I mean HATE) grading rubrics for assignments. Nothing is worst in my opinion, but I have been able to utilize AI to help me craft grading rubrics that are comprehensive and detailed for each of my work.

Ethics Is Still Our Job

Every exciting conversation about AI eventually arrives at the same destination.

Students deserve professors and not algorithms.They deserve thoughtful mentorship, constructive feedback, difficult conversations, and genuine encouragement.

• No AI system can replicate the relationship between a professor and a student whose confidence has finally started to grow.

• No workflow can replace the excitement of seeing someone discover what they’re capable of.

Technology should strengthen those moments and never replace them. That also means protecting confidential information, verifying sources, maintaining transparency, respecting institutional policies, and remembering that every recommendation, every grade, every publication, and every decision still carries our name.

Looking ahead in 2027

I think we’re entering a fascinating chapter for higher education. The professors who thrive won’t necessarily be the ones who know the most AI tools. They will be the ones who build the best systems.

The educators who intentionally design workflows that reduce administrative overload will have more time for mentorship, creativity, innovation, collaboration, and scholarship.

Because when we’re no longer drowning in repetitive administrative work, we have more space to do the things that only people can do. Listen, engage, encourage, create and mentor - these are the aspects of being a professor that cannot be replaced by AI.

So, I have a question:

No, I am not suggesting professors start posting discount codes at the end of lectures or turning office hours into sponsored content (unless it is for coffee and Starbucks and then I am all for it!!).

Okay, I digress to fulfill my own hopes and dreams to have one day a coffee sponsorship. Where was I? Oh! Yes, what I am saying is that educators have something incredibly valuable to offer industry: expertise, credibility, emerging talent, research, ideas, communities, and a front-row seat to what the next generation of professionals is thinking, creating, and expecting.

Here’s the thing also - our industry has something equally valuable to offer education: access.

Access to emerging trends. Access to technology. Access to practitioners. Access to real problems that need solving. Access to opportunities students cannot get from a textbook, discussion board, or hypothetical case study alone.

I have been very fortunate over the years to have worked with some incredible brands (and continue to do so) with partnerships and collaborations - most recently with Adobe as I am now part of the HED community as a leader. I’ve been working with Adobe for years in various capacities, so I am thrilled to be working with them in this program. All in which have helped me not only as an educator, but as a person as well. However, I was also able to provide value and support to create a win-win situation.

That is why I believe partnerships between education and industry are going to become increasingly important and not as an “extra” we add when we have time, but as part of how we define relevance, impact, and value in higher education.

We Need to Rethink What a Partnership Looks Like

When we hear “industry partnership,” we sometimes immediately think of a massive corporate agreement involving contracts, committees, and enough meetings to make everyone reconsider their life choices.

It does not have to start there. Some of my most valuable professional relationships have started with a conversation. A guest speaker comes to class. A company shares a case study. A professional offers feedback on student work. A brand provides access to a platform or certification. Students create content for an organization. An industry contact introduces you to someone else, and suddenly one conversation has created five new possibilities.

The goal should not be collecting logos for a slide deck. A partnership is valuable when something meaningful happens because of it. Did students gain experience? Did a company gain insight? Did a professor learn something that changed how they teach? Did research become more relevant? Did someone get an internship, job, mentor, certification, portfolio piece, or introduction they otherwise would not have had? That is impact.

Yes, Educators Have a Brand, Too

This is also where we need to get more comfortable talking about educator branding.

Creators understand that reputation creates opportunities. Industry professionals understand that visibility creates opportunities. Entrepreneurs understand that relationships create opportunities. Yet academia can sometimes treat visibility as if it is somehow separate from serious scholarly work.

An educator’s brand is not a logo, color palette, or polished LinkedIn profile. It is what people associate with your name and your work. It is your expertise, your teaching philosophy, your research, your network, your ideas, your students’ experiences, and the contributions you make to your field.

And yes, exposure matters. Not exposure for exposure’s sake, but strategic visibility that allows people to see the work you are already doing.

This becomes especially important when we think about tenure, promotion, annual reviews, awards, speaking opportunities, consulting, research collaborations, and leadership roles. Traditional academic metrics remain important, but we should also be thinking about the broader footprint of our work. Who is using it? Who is talking about it? What organizations want to work with us because of it? What opportunities have emerged for students? How have we translated our expertise beyond the walls of the university?

Your Students Should Benefit From Your Network

For me, this is the biggest piece.I do not believe in building industry relationships simply so I can say I know someone at Company X.

That changes the entire mindset. Instead of asking a professional to simply guest lecture, could they provide students with a real challenge their organization is facing? Could students pitch ideas? Could they receive professional feedback? Could the company provide access to a tool, certification, event, conference, or behind-the-scenes experience?

Could that relationship eventually lead to internships? Mentorship? Portfolio projects? Jobs? This is where experiential learning becomes more than a phrase we put on university websites.

Students should be able to see how concepts move from classroom theory into professional practice. They should understand how organizations make decisions when budgets, deadlines, stakeholders, reputation, technology, and unexpected chaos enter the picture. They should be able to create work, receive feedback, revise it, defend their decisions, and walk away with evidence of what they can actually do.

Industry partnerships make that possible.

Start With Value, Not the Ask

One of the biggest mistakes educators can make is approaching industry relationships with a list of things they want.

• Can you speak to my class?

• Can you sponsor this?

• Can you give my students internships?

• Can you provide free access?

• Can you help with this project?

Maybe you have students who can provide fresh perspectives on a challenge. Maybe your research offers insight into an emerging issue. Maybe you can connect a company with young professionals they are trying to understand. Maybe you can create a classroom experience that gives an organization a chance to test ideas, hear different perspectives, or contribute to workforce development.

Partnerships work best when both sides win. That means understanding what success looks like for the organization and not just for you.

Build Relationships Before You Need Them

Please do not wait until you need a guest speaker next Thursday to start networking.

The best partnerships are built over time. Follow people whose work you respect. Engage with what they are doing. Share their work when it is relevant. Attend industry events. Reach out after a conference. Invite someone for coffee without attaching an immediate request. Stay connected with alumni. Keep up with former students. Participate in professional associations. Be curious about what organizations are working on and what challenges they are facing.

And of course - most importantly - follow up. We spend so much time teaching students about networking and then sometimes forget that we have to practice it ourselves.

Do Not Forget the Brand Piece

There is another reality here that educators need to recognize: people cannot partner with work they do not know exists.

You may be doing incredible research, building innovative classroom experiences, connecting students with industry, developing new approaches to teaching, or creating meaningful community impact. But if all of that lives inside a course management system, annual review document, or folder on your laptop, the people outside your institution may never see it.

Document the work. Share the student experiences with permission. Talk about what you learned from a partnership. Tag the people and organizations involved when appropriate. Write about the trends you are seeing. Share your research in ways that professionals can understand and use. Build a website or portfolio that demonstrates what you do beyond a job title. Create a partnership deck (similar to what influencers do for a media kit) of work you have done with other brands) to go along with your CV.

In a higher education environment where budgets are tightening, roles are evolving, AI is changing how we work, and institutions are asking increasingly difficult questions about value, being able to demonstrate your impact matters.

Your university title is part of your professional identity. It should not be the entirety of it.

Protect the Relationship

Of course, partnerships also come with responsibilities.

Educators need to understand institutional policies related to conflicts of interest, intellectual property, student privacy, outside employment, sponsorships, endorsements, contracts, and use of university resources. Transparency matters, particularly when a relationship benefits both your professional brand and your students.

There also needs to be a clear line between partnership and promotion.Students should never feel like an educator’s class has become a marketing channel for a company. Organizations should not have inappropriate influence over curriculum or academic evaluation. And educators should be thoughtful about how their professional relationships intersect with their institutional responsibilities.

The best partnerships are not transactional as they are built on trust.

Think Bigger Than One Semester

Another mistake is treating industry partnerships as semester-by-semester transactions.

A company visits class in October, everyone takes a photo, we post it on LinkedIn, and then… nothing.

What if we thought bigger?

What do I mean by this? What if a guest speaker could become a mentor? A classroom project could become an internship pipeline? A student collaboration could become a research opportunity? A professional connection could lead to a conference panel? A software partnership could lead to certifications students complete every semester? An alumni relationship could evolve into a long-term advisory role?

One opportunity can create an ecosystem.

That requires educators to think less like event planners and more like relationship builders.

The Future Professor Is a Connector

I think the role of the professor is changing.We will always teach. We will research. We will mentor. We will contribute service to our institutions and disciplines.

But increasingly, I believe one of the most valuable things an educator can be is a connector.

• A connector between theory and practice.

• Between students and professionals.

• Between research and real-world problems.

• Between universities and communities.

• Between emerging talent and organizations searching for it.

• Between what higher education has traditionally been and what it needs to become.

That does not diminish academic work. It expands its reach. The creator economy figured out something important: relationships create reach, and reach creates opportunity.

Educators can learn from that without becoming influencers. Build a reputation around expertise. Create relationships based on mutual value. Share the work you are doing. Bring industry into the classroom. Bring student ideas into industry. Document the outcomes. Protect the integrity of the relationship. And most importantly, make sure the opportunities you build do not stop with you.

The best educator partnerships are not measured by how many companies know your name. They are measured by how many doors open for your students because you built the bridge.

For decades, many of us have been taught that our teaching, research, service, and mentorship would naturally build our professional reputation. Educators believed that publishing meaningful scholarship, serving on committees, advising students, presenting at conferences, and showing up every day for our institutions would speak for itself.

While I still believe that great work is the foundation of any meaningful career, I’ve also learned something that has become increasingly clear over the past several years: great work deserves visibility.

That isn’t about ego. It isn’t about becoming an influencer or chasing likes on LinkedIn. It’s about making sure the work you’re already doing has the opportunity to reach the people it was meant to serve.

For years, I’ve challenged my students to think intentionally about their personal brands. We talk about positioning, storytelling, digital portfolios, content strategy, thought leadership, and the importance of creating a professional presence that opens doors before they’ve even graduated. We discuss how employers Google candidates, how recruiters browse LinkedIn, and how a website often becomes someone’s first introduction. Then one afternoon, I opened my own website and laughed.

The website reflected a version of Karen Freberg from several years ago, but not the educator, researcher, entrepreneur, and mentor I’ve become today. Since then, I’ve launched The Bird’s Nest as a nonprofit, written new books, judged international awards, expanded my work around AI and higher education, spoken around the world, and collaborated with incredible organizations and students.

That’s when I decided it was time to invest in something we often encourage everyone else to do but rarely prioritize ourselves.

My own brand.

One of the best decisions I made was partnering with one of my students, Eirene Rosillo, to redesign my website and visual identity. To say I was blown away and super impressed would be an understatement!!

Watching her approach this project reminded me exactly why experiential learning matters so much. She wasn’t simply selecting colors or creating layouts. She was asking thoughtful questions about my career, my values, where I wanted my work to go next, and how every element of the site should reflect that story.

Those conversations became much bigger than website design. They became conversations about identity, purpose, and the next chapter of my professional journey.

Of course, we spent plenty of time discussing shades of purple because - well, if you know me, you know that’s practically a personality trait. However, beneath the colors, typography, and design decisions was something much more important.

Your brand is what people understand about you before they’ve ever met you. It’s the story your digital presence tells when someone Googles your name after hearing you speak, reading your research, or receiving your business card. Long before someone schedules a meeting with you, they’ve probably visited your LinkedIn profile, browsed your website, searched your publications, or scrolled through your social media. Whether we realize it or not, our online presence has become our first handshake.

Why personal branding is a MUST for educators

That reality has become even more important as higher education continues to evolve. Students aren’t just comparing universities anymore. They’re comparing faculty. They’re searching for professors online before they register for courses. Industry partners are looking for researchers to collaborate with. Journalists need experts who are visible and accessible. Conference organizers want speakers whose expertise is easy to understand. Alumni, donors, prospective graduate students, and organizations often discover faculty through a simple Google search before ever sending an email.

That’s why I believe every educator needs to think differently about personal branding.

One lesson I’ve learned throughout my career is that universities do try to tell their institutional stories. However, colleges and universities are large, complex organizations filled with remarkable faculty doing extraordinary work every single day but sometimes focus on certain stories and aspects of campus rather than individuals or groups that are driving the reputation and branding of the institution.

That’s why I’ve stopped waiting for someone else to tell my story. I’ve started thinking of institutional communications as one piece of the puzzle rather than the entire strategy.

As educators, we have an opportunity (actually, a responsibility!) to share our work with the communities we hope to impact. When I post about a new project, celebrate my students, write a newsletter, share lessons from a conference, or reflect on a classroom experience - I’m not trying to promote myself. I’m trying to contribute to a larger conversation about higher education, strategic communication, experiential learning, and the future of our profession.

I’ve honestly lost count of how many opportunities have started with one simple sentence:

Those five words have led to keynote presentations, consulting projects, research collaborations, media interviews, podcast appearances, international partnerships, advisory boards, and friendships that quite literally changed the trajectory of my career. None of those opportunities happened because I waited quietly for someone else to discover my work. They happened because I intentionally made my work visible.

The future of my brand

That’s what a personal brand can do. Working with Eirene also reminded me of something I care deeply about as an educator.

Sometimes the greatest investment we can make isn’t hiring the biggest agency or the most expensive consultant.

Watching Eirene lead this project wasn’t just exciting because the website looked beautiful!! It was exciting because I watched one of my students step confidently into the role of creative professional. She challenged my thinking, asked thoughtful questions, and pushed me to see my own work through a different lens. That’s experiential learning at its very best. We often tell students that we believe in them. Projects like this allow us to prove it.

If there’s one lesson I hope fellow educators take away from this newsletter, it’s that your career deserves the same intentionality that you encourage your students to have.

• Update your website.

• Refresh your LinkedIn profile.

• Invest in professional photography.

• Write about your work.

• Celebrate your students.

• Share your ideas generously.

• Don’t wait until someone else gives you permission to tell your story.

Your career has a brand whether you’ve intentionally built one or not. You get to decide whether that story is written by chance or by choice. So if there’s one KareFre lesson I’ve learned after all these years, it’s this:

There are certain experiences that make you rethink what comes next.

Last week, I had the privilege of participating in the Academic Leadership Suite and Global Education Summit in Geneva with UNITAR and Ureka. I am grateful to have been selected for this experience by the team (they were all amazing hosts and organizers!)

I arrived expecting conversations about artificial intelligence, the future of higher education, and innovation. Those conversations certainly happened. But what surprised me most wasn’t the technology as it was the people.

One of the greatest gifts of this experience was being surrounded by educators, researchers, innovators, and leaders from around the world who all approached the same challenges from completely different perspectives.

Every discussion reminded me that there isn’t one universal solution to the future of education. Instead, progress happens when we intentionally bring together different disciplines, cultures, industries, and lived experiences to solve problems collectively.

Innovation doesn’t happen in silos.

It happens around tables where people are willing to challenge assumptions, ask better questions, and remain curious enough to learn from someone whose journey looks nothing like their own.

Ironically, for a summit where artificial intelligence was discussed almost continuously, the conversations became even more human.

One experience that brought many of these ideas to life was attending the AI for Good Summit while in Geneva.

Walking through demonstrations, listening to researchers and innovators, and seeing AI applied to healthcare, accessibility, sustainability, education, humanitarian efforts, and global development was both inspiring and grounding.

The technology itself was impressive, but the conversations surrounding it were even more meaningful. The recurring message wasn't about building AI for the sake of innovation as it was about building AI with purpose. The most impactful solutions were those designed to solve real human challenges, improve quality of life, expand opportunity, and create more equitable access to knowledge and resources.

It reinforced something I have believed for a long time: the future of AI isn't determined solely by the technology we create, but by the values, ethics, and collaboration we bring to developing it.

When diverse voices are invited to the table (from educators and policymakers to engineers, communicators, entrepreneurs, and students) we don't simply build smarter technology. We build solutions that are more thoughtful, more inclusive, and ultimately more impactful.

What does this mean for us?

AI wasn’t positioned as the replacement for educators, researchers, or professionals. Instead, it was framed as an amplifier but one that can remove repetitive work, uncover insights more quickly, personalize learning, and expand access. But every meaningful discussion returned to the same point: technology can enhance our work, but it cannot replace human judgment, empathy, ethics, creativity, or leadership.

Those remain uniquely ours. As professors, this is an important reminder.

Our value has never simply been delivering information. Students can access information anywhere. Our responsibility is helping them evaluate it, challenge it, apply it, and transform it into knowledge they can use. We create spaces where difficult conversations happen, where ideas are tested, where confidence is built, and where students discover what they are capable of becoming.

As professionals, the conversation is equally important. The future won’t belong to the person who knows the most prompts.

It will belong to the individual who knows how to work across disciplines, communicate with diverse audiences, think strategically, build trust, adapt quickly, and solve problems that don’t have obvious answers. Technical skills will continue evolving. Human skills will become even more valuable.

And for students? Perhaps the greatest takeaway is this: your degree is only part of your education.

The experiences you pursue (ex. the internships, study abroad opportunities, research collaborations, industry conferences, client projects, networking conversations, and global experiences) will increasingly become what differentiates you. They build perspective. They teach resilience. They help you see the world through lenses you never knew existed.

That’s difficult to replicate inside four classroom walls. Experiential learning has never been more important.Neither has investing in it.

The Power of Bringing People Together

One theme that emerged repeatedly throughout the summit was that institutions, organizations, and leaders must continue investing in opportunities that bring people together.

While technology allows us to connect virtually across continents, there is still incredible value in sitting beside someone from another country, hearing their experiences firsthand, debating ideas respectfully, and discovering unexpected common ground.

As someone who has built much of my career around experiential learning, this reaffirmed something I’ve believed for years: some of the most meaningful learning happens when students (and educators) step outside environments that feel familiar.

What I took away

Geneva reminded me that the future of education isn’t simply about integrating AI into classrooms. It’s about creating learning ecosystems where technology supports human potential rather than replacing it. It’s about preparing students to become adaptable lifelong learners who can navigate uncertainty with confidence, empathy, and ethical leadership.

Most importantly, it’s about remembering that while technology will continue evolving at an extraordinary pace, our greatest competitive advantage remains deeply human.

• The conversations we have.

• The relationships we build.

• The perspectives we share.

• The willingness to learn from one another.

AI may help us move faster, but I think it’s important to note that people will always determine where we’re going. We are in the driver’s seat (for now).

I am grateful for the entire team at UNITAR and Ureka for hosting all of us this week as I flew back to the US not only with a wealth of new knowledge and perspectives, but new friends and colleagues - many who I am going to stay in touch with and we already have plans to collaborate with each other!

And you know what - it has been super refreshing! Instead of doomscrolling through outrage, endless hot takes, algorithm complaints, and debates that seem to dominate every corner of the internet, many of us are experiencing something different.

As someone who studies social media, branding, and PR for a living, I’ve been fascinated by what the World Cup represents beyond the matches themselves. Yes, there is competition and are rivalries. There are passionate fans who occasionally post before thinking.

But at its core, the World Cup reminds us of something social media was originally designed to do: bring people together. That may be its most valuable brand asset.

The Internet’s Biggest Watch Party

One of the most remarkable things about the World Cup is how it creates a shared experience at a global scale. Friends gather around televisions, families text one another updates, colleagues suddenly become soccer experts, and people who may have never interacted before find common ground through a match, a player, or a team. Even those who do not typically follow soccer find themselves drawn into the stories and energy surrounding the event.

For a few weeks, the internet transforms into one giant watch party. That kind of collective experience has become increasingly rare in today’s digital environment. Algorithms have trained us to live in highly personalized feeds where everyone experiences a slightly different version of the internet. The World Cup breaks through those barriers. People are watching the same moments, discussing the same highlights, and sharing the same emotions in real time. From a branding perspective, that is incredibly powerful.

Community Is the Real MVP

The strongest brands today do not simply build audiences as they build communities. The World Cup demonstrates this principle perfectly. Fans are not passive observers. They are active participants in the experience. They create content, share reactions, celebrate victories, support their teams, and contribute to the overall narrative of the tournament.

The fans have been great - everyone from Freddy on X to the Tartan Army to the Vikings from Norway - they have been creating content to build a positive and energetic community. I mean - who doesn’t want to go and do the Viking row?!!!

That is a lesson every brand, creator, educator, and communicator should pay attention to. People do not want to be marketed to every second of the day. They want to feel like they belong. They want to participate in something larger than themselves. The organizations that understand this distinction will continue to thrive in the future.

The Power of Stories and Culture

One of my favorite aspects of the World Cup is seeing people proudly share where they come from. Social media becomes filled with flags, traditions, celebrations, local foods, family gatherings, and cultural pride. Fans are not just supporting teams; they are sharing pieces of their identity and inviting others to learn about them.

In a digital environment that often rewards division and conflict, the World Cup reminds us that diversity can be something worth celebrating. People become curious about cultures they may never have encountered before. They learn about countries, traditions, and communities through the lens of sport. That is the social part of social media, and quite honestly, we need more of it.

And of course they get to see some iconic locations in the USA like Buc-ees (classic!)

What Brands Should Be Paying Attention To

The best World Cup content is not trying to go viral at all costs. Instead, it focuses on connection. There is a significant difference between creating content that captures attention and creating content that creates belonging. The brands that stand out during events like the World Cup understand this distinction.

They celebrate their audiences. They highlight fan stories. They participate in conversations naturally rather than forcing themselves into every trend. Most importantly, they recognize that sometimes the audience is the hero of the story—not the brand itself. Imagine that.

As communicators, we often focus on metrics such as reach, impressions, and engagement. While those measurements matter, the World Cup reminds us that the most meaningful outcomes often come from creating moments people genuinely want to share with others.

Summary

The World Cup proves that people are still looking for experiences that bring them together. They want stories. They want community. They want moments that feel bigger than themselves. They want reasons to celebrate.

In an online world that can sometimes feel fragmented and exhausting, the World Cup serves as a reminder that social media can still be a force for connection. It can create conversations, build relationships, introduce us to new perspectives, and remind us of our shared humanity.

Perhaps that is the biggest branding lesson of all. The most successful communities, organizations, and creators in the future will not necessarily be the loudest. They will be the ones who create spaces where people feel connected, welcomed, and part of something meaningful.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some World Cup matches to watch and approximately 47 examples of excellent community-building content to save for future class discussions!

Students are asking it. Parents are asking it. Employers are asking it. Legislators are asking it. And honestly, it’s a fair question. Tuition continues to rise, student debt remains a concern, and technology is rapidly changing the way we learn and work.

This has been on my mind as I am preparing for traveling to Geneva in a few weeks to be part of a global education summit to discuss some of these topics as this is a global issue, not just one that is happening where I am at in the United States.

However, I think we’re often asking the wrong follow-up questions.

The “cost” of higher education

The conversation around higher education has become increasingly focused on cost, but not nearly enough attention is being paid to value. More specifically, what actually creates value within higher education?

Over the years, I’ve heard a lot of what is driving higher education costs - most often I hear “it’s because of faculty salaries” or “the cost of textbooks.”

Here’s the thing - both are incorrect and here is why:

• When it comes to textbooks - with OER and other free resources, you get what you pay for. Second, course textbooks are a great first edition to add to your own personal library and knowledge database (besides, that is the overall purpose of college is to gain knowledge about your field of study, right?!). There are other fees that students have to pay (ex. meal plans, fees for NIL programs, etc) that add up. Students (and their parents) should not be viewed as ATMs.

• Second, for faculty salaries, any one can go to a public database and look at salaries at universities as we are public institutions (of course there are private institutions). I would imagine if you looked at the top 10 top paid individuals at a university - if you took out athletic coaches - you would see administrators (who have grown in number substantially over the last few decades in higher education). Salary trends in higher education have been reported by AAUP on this topic recently.

As someone who has spent my career in academia for the last 15+ years and have been part of the lifestyle for longer (thanks to Mom and Dad), I believe it’s time for a more honest conversation about where our investments are going and whether they align with what students, employers, and communities truly need.

When people think about the value of college, they often point to a diploma. I would argue the diploma is only part of the story.

The real value comes from the experiences, relationships, and opportunities that happen along the way. It comes from the professor who takes extra time to mentor a student. It comes from the industry professional who volunteers to speak in a classroom. It comes from internships, research projects, experiential learning opportunities, student organizations, leadership roles, networking events, and hands-on experiences that allow students to apply what they’ve learned.

It’s created by students willing to invest in themselves. It’s created by educators who are passionate about teaching, mentoring, and creating opportunities. It’s created by industry partners who help bridge the gap between the classroom and the workplace. These are the individuals who are often responsible for the success stories institutions proudly showcase.

Which leads me to a question I can’t stop thinking about:

Which brings forth new questions:

• Why do we continue to see discussions focused on rankings, enrollment numbers, facilities, branding campaigns, administration buyouts or payouts, new hires for senior vice provosts even in hiring freezes and layoffs, and operational efficiencies while the people directly responsible for learning and development are frequently asked to do more with less?

• Why are the individuals generating innovation, mentorship, engagement, and career outcomes often the last to receive recognition, resources, or support?

At the same time, employers continue to send a clear message. They want graduates who can communicate, collaborate, think critically, solve problems, adapt to change, and contribute immediately. Students want meaningful experiences that prepare them for their careers. Faculty want opportunities to innovate and create impactful learning environments.

These goals are not in conflict with one another. In fact, they are remarkably aligned.

Best Practices Moving Forward

As we move forward and see where higher education goes, there are some things we can do now that would not cost additional resources, but it would be a refocus on what we have been doing the last few decades.

Invest in people before infrastructure.
Buildings don’t mentor students. People do. While facilities matter, institutions should prioritize investments in faculty development, experiential learning opportunities, and industry partnerships that directly impact learning outcomes.

Measure outcomes, not just enrollment.
Success shouldn’t be defined solely by the number of students who enroll. We should be evaluating internships secured, job placements, professional certifications earned, portfolios developed, entrepreneurial ventures launched, and meaningful community impact created by students.

Reward innovation and external engagement.
Faculty who create partnerships, secure opportunities for students, build experiential learning programs, and connect classrooms with industry should be recognized and rewarded. These activities often create significant value for institutions yet are frequently treated as secondary responsibilities.

Reduce barriers to collaboration.
Too often, partnerships between academia and industry become bogged down by bureaucracy. Institutions should create streamlined processes that make it easier for faculty, students, alumni, and employers to collaborate on projects, internships, research, and experiential learning opportunities.

Teach beyond the syllabus.
Content knowledge is important, but students also need professional skills, networking strategies, personal branding guidance, and opportunities to apply what they’ve learned in real-world settings.

Create opportunities, not just assignments.
Whenever possible, connect coursework to actual organizations, campaigns, research projects, community initiatives, or industry challenges. Students remember experiences far longer than they remember lectures.

Model lifelong learning.
Students need to see faculty adapting to new technologies, exploring AI tools, attending conferences, building professional brands, and continuously learning. Demonstrating curiosity may be one of the most valuable lessons we can teach.

Treat college like an investment, not a transaction.
A degree alone is no longer enough. Students should actively seek internships, certifications, leadership positions, networking opportunities, volunteer experiences, and portfolio-building projects throughout their college careers.

Build your network before you need it.
Some of the most valuable aspects of college come from relationships. Connect with professors, alumni, classmates, and industry professionals long before graduation.

Focus on experiences that differentiate you.
Employers increasingly want evidence of skills. Students should graduate with examples of work completed, problems solved, campaigns created, research conducted, and projects led.

View students as emerging talent, not future talent.
Many students are already creating content, managing brands, conducting research, building businesses, and leading organizations while still in school. Give them opportunities to contribute now.

Summary

We are entering an era where information is no longer scarce. Students can access content, tutorials, certifications, and AI-generated explanations within seconds. The competitive advantage of higher education can no longer be simply providing information. Information is everywhere.

What remains valuable (and perhaps becomes even more valuable) is what cannot easily be replicated by technology.

• Mentorship.

• Community.

• Coaching.

• Collaboration.

• Feedback.

• Networking.

• Experiential learning.

• And the opportunity to work through challenges alongside peers and experts.

These are the experiences that transform students from learners into professionals.

This is why I remain relatively optimistic about the future of higher education. Despite the challenges, I believe there is tremendous opportunity ahead.

Yet, this also means that the future requires us (well, administrators and staff in higher education specifically) to stop treating students as customers and faculty as expenses.

We need to recognize that the most meaningful outcomes are generated when talented educators are empowered to innovate and when students are provided opportunities to learn by doing.

The future of higher education will not be determined by who has the nicest building or the most polished marketing campaign. It will be determined by who creates the strongest learning experiences, develops the most meaningful industry partnerships, and produces graduates who are prepared to make an impact.

The conversation shouldn’t be whether higher education has value. It absolutely does.

One of the most memorable moments from Kris Saling’s retirement ceremony wasn’t about rank, awards, or accomplishments. It was a simple observation shared by one of her mentors:

As someone who studies personal branding, leadership, and reputation management, I haven’t stopped thinking about that statement.

We spend a tremendous amount of time talking about supporters like our mentors, champions, advocates, and communities. We celebrate the people who believe in us, open doors for us, and cheer us on from the sidelines. Yet we rarely talk about the other group: the people who do not want us to succeed. Not because we have done anything wrong, not because we are unqualified, and not because our ideas lack merit. Rather, our success challenges something they are comfortable protecting.

For the purposes of this newsletter, I am calling them The Professional Pearl-Clutchers™.

You know the type as you probably have seen these people before:

• When you launch a new initiative, they suddenly become concerned about “the process.”

• When you receive recognition, they question whether it was truly deserved.

• When you create opportunities for others, they focus on why it won’t work.

• When you introduce innovation, they become guardians of tradition overnight.

• They rarely create momentum themselves, but they are remarkably skilled at creating friction for others.

Here is my KareFre hot take:

Dealing with Professional Pearl-Clutchers

Throughout my career, I have noticed that the people creating opportunities, mentoring students, building partnerships, launching programs, writing books, and moving industries forward are usually too busy doing the work to spend time tearing others down.

The Professional Pearl-Clutchers, however, always seem to have plenty of time.

• They are conducting policies nobody asked for,

• Sharing ideas they believe are brilliant but are not,

• Take credit for things they never did or were a part of,

• Keeping score nobody requested,

• Tracking accomplishments they did not contribute to, and

• Creating roadblocks for projects they were never involved in.

They do this under the banner of professionalism, fairness, accountability, or protecting standards. To be clear, accountability is important. Strong organizations need accountability. However, most people can tell the difference between accountability and insecurity.

One is focused on improving outcomes. The other is focused on protecting territory.

One of the biggest mistakes professionals make is believing that if they work hard enough, achieve enough, or help enough people, everyone will eventually support them.

That is not how leadership works. The more visible you become, the more opinions you generate. The more successful you become, the more comparisons people make. The more innovative you become, the more resistance you encounter. The goal is not universal approval. The goal is meaningful impact. If your work matters, someone will eventually dislike it - not because it is ineffective, but because it is effective.

How to handle Professional Pearl-Clutchers

So what do we do when we encounter the Professional Pearl-Clutchers?

• Stay focused on building rather than battling. The biggest mistake is allowing detractors to become your full-time job. Every minute spent obsessing over critics is time taken away from your students, clients, colleagues, projects, research, and relationships. Builders build. Pearl-clutchers clutch. Do not confuse the two.

• Document everything. Keep records of accomplishments, partnerships, outcomes, contributions, and impact. Save important communications. Track your wins and the value you create. Facts matter, especially when narratives begin competing with reality. Your reputation should never depend solely on someone else’s interpretation of your work.

• Let results speak first. Sometimes the most powerful response is sustained excellence. Consistency has a way of exposing nonsense over time. Continue showing up. Continue doing great work. Continue delivering results.

• Invest in your champions. One lesson I took away from Kris’s ceremony is that your legacy is ultimately built through people. Support others. Mentor generously. Open doors. Share opportunities. Celebrate the successes of those around you. When challenges emerge—and they will—the relationships you have built become your strongest source of credibility.

• Refuse to become one of them. This may be the hardest lesson of all. Do not allow frustration or disappointment to transform you into the very thing you are fighting against. Continue helping people. Continue creating opportunities. Continue leading with integrity. Continue being generous. Success is wonderful, but character is what remains when success is challenged.

As I listened to the stories shared about Kris throughout her retirement ceremony, I realized something important. Nobody talked about the people who tried to create obstacles. Nobody celebrated the people who slowed progress. Nobody remembered the critics. Instead, they remembered the leader, the mentor, the builder, and the person who made a difference.

That, perhaps, is the most important personal branding lesson of all. Years from now, when people tell your story, they will not remember the Professional Pearl-Clutchers. They will remember the impact you created, the opportunities you provided, and the people you helped along the way.

Businesses are saying they cannot find talent. Universities are being questioned about value. Students are wondering if college is still “worth it.” And somewhere in the middle of all of this, educators are being asked to prepare students for industries that are changing almost weekly because of AI, shifting workforce expectations, economic uncertainty, and evolving technology.

I keep coming back to one thought:

I think some of the organizations stepping up right now are recognizing something important: investing in educators is no longer optional if you want to shape the future workforce.

We Don’t Need {More} Distance Between Industry and Education

One of the biggest mistakes I see is treating education and industry as separate worlds. In fact, they are deeply connected.

The classroom is no longer just a place for theory. It is becoming a testing ground for strategy, AI integration, content creation, analytics, collaboration, communication, and leadership development. Meanwhile, businesses are looking for graduates who can think critically, adapt quickly, communicate clearly, work with AI tools, and understand how to navigate uncertainty.

Those things do not magically appear at graduation as they are developed through exposure, mentorship, opportunities, and experiential learning.

That is where partnerships matter.

The organizations making the biggest impact right now are not simply posting jobs online and hoping for the best. They are actively collaborating with educators, supporting programs, speaking to students, providing access to tools, mentoring future professionals, and creating opportunities for students to work on projects that feel real.

That kind of access changes students. I see it happen all the time. The moment a student realizes their work matters outside the classroom, something shifts. Their confidence changes. Their professionalism changes. Their understanding of the industry changes.

Students Need More Than Information

We live in a world where information is everywhere. Students can Google definitions. They can watch tutorials on YouTube. They can search for how to’s on TikTok. They can ask AI for explanations.

What they need now is something different, and what do they need? Students are searching for

• Context

• Feedback.

• Mentorship

• Opportunities to apply ideas.

• Communities.

• Visibility

• And the proximity to professionals and real-world environments.

That is one reason why I believe experiential learning matters more than ever.

Students do not just need assignments anymore. They need portfolio pieces. They need collaboration experience. They need exposure to clients, campaigns, leadership dynamics, emerging technologies, and industry expectations before graduation.

This is also why I have spent so much time building opportunities through speaking engagements, certifications, client collaborations, workshops, student agency experiences, AI integration projects, and partnerships through initiatives like The Bird’s Nest.

The goal has never been to simply “teach content.” The goal is to help students build confidence, credibility, adaptability, and professional visibility in environments that increasingly reward those qualities.

Educators Are Rebuilding in Real Time

I also think there needs to be more honesty about what educators are navigating right now.

Higher education is under pressure from every direction. Faculty are being asked to redesign curriculum for the AI era while also demonstrating workforce relevance, student outcomes, enrollment value, research productivity, mentorship, and industry engagement. All of this seems to happen often all at the same time. Many educators are doing this while learning emerging technologies alongside their students.

The professors I admire most right now are not standing still.

• They are rebuilding courses in real time;

• Experimenting with AI tools;

• Creating industry partnerships from scratch;

• Finding ways to connect classroom learning to actual workforce expectations;

• Helping students develop strategic thinking rather than memorization.

Much of this work happens quietly and behind the scenes. Yet, I think businesses benefit from it every time they hire a graduate who knows how to think, communicate, adapt, collaborate, and contribute from day one.

The “College vs. Experience” Debate Misses the Point

One thing I think we need to stop doing is framing the conversation as “college versus experience.”

The strongest programs moving forward will be the ones that integrate classroom learning with experiential projects, mentorship, AI literacy, portfolio-building, professional networking, communication skills, and strategic adaptability.

That combination matters as the reality is this: technical skills will continue changing rapidly. Yet, the ability to think strategically, communicate clearly, build relationships, solve problems, lead teams, and adapt to uncertainty will continue to matter across every industry.

What the Best Partnerships Are Doing Right

The organizations making meaningful impact with educators right now are doing a few things especially well.

• First, they treat educators as strategic partners rather than simply guest speakers or recruiting pipelines. They recognize professors often sit at the intersection of research, industry trends, student development, and emerging technology.

• Second, they invest in access. That might mean certifications, software tools, workshops, mentorship opportunities, conference support, or collaborative projects that allow students to gain hands-on experience.

• Third, they show up consistently. The strongest partnerships are not transactional or one-time appearances. They are relationships built over time through collaboration, communication, trust, and shared goals.

And finally, they understand community matters. That level of engagement builds loyalty, trust, and long-term relationships in ways traditional recruiting often cannot.

Best Practices for Building Stronger Educator + Industry Partnerships

Treat partnerships as long-term relationships

The best collaborations are not one-off guest lectures. They involve ongoing conversations, shared projects, mentorship, and mutual investment.

Give students access to real tools and workflows

Exposure matters. Whether it is AI platforms, analytics dashboards, certifications, or campaign planning tools, students benefit from learning within the environments they may eventually work in.

Focus on portfolio-building experiences

Students need tangible work they can showcase. Experiential learning projects, client collaborations, simulations, and content creation opportunities help bridge classroom learning with career readiness.

Involve educators in strategic conversations

Professors often have unique insight into emerging trends, student behavior, skill gaps, communication shifts, and future workforce expectations.

Support visibility and networking opportunities

Industry panels, conferences, mentorship programs, LinkedIn engagement, workshops, and community-building events all help students develop professional confidence and connections.

Recognize adaptability as a core skill

The future workforce will not simply need technical knowledge. Students need experience navigating ambiguity, learning new systems quickly, collaborating across teams, and thinking strategically alongside AI.

Summary

I genuinely believe we are entering a period where the organizations that invest in educators, students, and communities now will have a major advantage later.

Not just from a recruiting perspective.
But from a trust, innovation, and leadership perspective too.

And the organizations recognizing that now are not just supporting education.

They are helping shape the future of the industries they want to lead.

You earned the degree. Put in the years at your job and created quite the portfolio. Built the résumé. Climbed the ladder. Maybe you published research, landed media interviews, spoke at conferences, or held a leadership title that signaled credibility to others. Expertise was often tied to institutions, gatekeepers, and credentials.

Now? Open LinkedIn for three minutes. Suddenly everyone is a strategist, thought leader, AI leader and consultant, change or AI evangelist, brand guru, keynote speaker, creator economy specialist, or personal branding coach.

The rise of AI has only accelerated this shift. Information that once required years of study, access, or industry experience can now be generated in seconds with a prompt. Content is faster to create, easier to polish, and more optimized for visibility than ever before. The barrier to sounding smart has dropped dramatically.

This reminds me so much of Syndrome from “The Incredibles” - if everyone is a superhero, than no one is. If everyone is an expert, how can we tell if they are REALLY one?

Yes, content can be generated faster, cleaner, and more confidently than ever before. People can sound intelligent with minimal friction. Entire personal brands can be built around curated language, optimized posts, and recycled frameworks. That changes the game for everyone.

Yet, I keep coming back to:

That distinction matters more than ever because the professionals who will stand out in the next era are not necessarily the people producing the most content. They are the people producing the clearest perspective, strongest judgment, and most recognizable value. Everyone can generate answers now. Fewer people can generate insight.

The New Definition of Expertise

One of the biggest shifts happening right now is that expertise is no longer solely defined by what you know. It is increasingly defined by how well you interpret information, communicate ideas, build trust, connect dots, and adapt to change.

• AI can provide information. Experts provide interpretation.

• AI can summarize trends. Experts explain why those trends matter.

• AI can generate strategies. Experts understand which strategy actually works in practice, what risks exist, and how culture, timing, leadership, emotion, and reputation impact execution.

That’s why two people can share almost identical information online, but only one becomes the trusted voice others return to consistently.

Visibility Is Now Part of Expertise

This is the part some professionals still resist. You can be incredibly talented, experienced, and intelligent, but if nobody sees your work, your expertise becomes harder to discover in a digital-first world.

That may feel unfair, but it is reality. The internet increasingly rewards: clarity, consistency, accessibility, communication, and recognizable perspective.

The best ideas do not automatically win anymore. The clearest and most visible ideas often do.

This is especially important for students, educators, professionals, consultants, and executives navigating AI-driven industries. Expertise today is part knowledge, part reputation, and part discoverability.

If your expertise only exists offline, algorithms may never surface you in the conversations shaping your field.

That doesn’t mean becoming performative or chasing virality. It means strategically sharing your thinking, documenting your work, and contributing visible value to your industry.

The Real Risk in the AI Era

Ironically, the biggest threat of AI may not be misinformation alone.

We are already seeing feeds flooded with:

• identical frameworks,

• recycled insights,

• generic motivational language,

• polished but empty thought leadership,

• and AI-generated “expertise” that sounds impressive but says very little.

In other words, everyone starts sounding the same. That means originality, voice, and perspective become even more valuable. The professionals who stand out will be the ones who: think critically, develop recognizable points of view, share lived experiences, and create ideas people remember.

The future belongs to people who can combine expertise with interpretation and communication.

How do to develop expertise in the AI world

• Build proof, not just presence. Posting content is not enough anymore as people want evidence.

• Develop a recognizable perspective. The strongest personal brands are not built on generic advice. They are built on recognizable ways of think.

• Learn in public. One of the biggest myths about expertise is that you must “arrive” before contributing. You do not need to know everything to add value. Share what you are learning, exploring, questioning and share your process of going through this.

• Share interpretation and not information. We all have access to information, but what makes us unique is how we evaluate it.

Summary

We are entering a strange era where it has never been easier to look like an expert online, while simultaneously becoming harder to build real credibility that lasts.

That tension is going to shape careers, industries, classrooms, leadership, and personal brands for years to come.

As we move forward, the ones who consistently make people feel smarter, more informed, and more prepared after engaging with their work.

The semester ends. The deadlines slow (slightly). The inbox is still full (which is a constant struggle for Team Inbox Zero people like myself!), but the pace shifts just enough to take a breath and ask:

For professors, summer is rarely a true “off-season.” It’s course redesign, research, writing, speaking, planning, and trying to stay ahead of an industry that changes by the hour.

For students (and especially recent graduates) it’s something else entirely. It’s a transition. A moment where structure disappears and you’re left with a question no syllabus ever fully prepares you for:

Whether you’re refining your courses or refining your career path, summer is one of the most valuable windows to reset with intention.

Not in a “new season, new me” way. In a strategic, thoughtful, get ahead without burning out kind of way.

Let’s have a KareFre Conversation about it.

Audit Before You Add

Before jumping into new goals, new tools, or new plans - you want to pause. What’s working? What isn’t? For professors, this means asking yourself - which assignments actually prepared students for the real world? Which ones felt like you were going through the motions? For students, this could mean analyzing what projects, experiences, or habits actually moved you forward this year?

Not everything needs to come with you into the next season. Some things need to be left behind.

Build on Reality, Not Theory

The pace of change across AI, social media, and communication means we can’t afford to prepare for ideal scenarios anymore. Professors should be asking if their assignments reflect what’s happening right now in the industry. Students should be asking if they’re building skills they can actually show and not just talk about. The goal isn’t perfection - rather it’s relevance.

Revamping your Digital Presence

Yep, we have to do this sometimes and what better time than the summer! Whether you want it to or not. It’s no longer optional as it’s your first impression. For students and recent graduates, that means updating LinkedIn, refining your portfolio, and actually sharing your work instead of keeping it hidden.

For professors, it’s about showing your perspective, your thought leadership, and how you’re adapting to where the field is going. If someone searches your name, what story are they seeing?

I bring this up as I am in the process of updating my website (long time coming) this summer with new branding and focus, and I can’t wait to share the end result!

Getting Comfortable with the Uncomfortable

Summer is also the perfect time to get comfortable being uncomfortable. Growth rarely feels polished, and without the pressure of a packed semester, this is your chance to experiment. Professors can test new assignments, platforms, or teaching approaches. Students can apply for opportunities that feel like a stretch, start posting their ideas, or reach out to people they admire.

Create SOMETHING

Here’s a challenge for students and professors - create something that didn’t exist before. This is the difference between staying stagnant and actually moving forward. Don’t just consume this summer, but build something. A portfolio. A campaign concept. A content series. A new course idea. A new personal brand kit. Something that reflects where you’re going, not just where you’ve been. When fall arrives, the people who stand out won’t be the ones who waited as they’ll be the ones who built.

Summer doesn’t have to be a complete reset. But it can be a powerful realignment where you can take a moment to step back, rethink, and move forward with more clarity and intention.

On our phones, across platforms, and in real time with audiences who weren’t just watching, they were participating.

What stood out this year wasn’t just the spectacle (though the hats absolutely delivered), but how seamlessly the event translated into a social and audience-first experience. This is what happens when legacy meets strategy, and actually listens to the speed of culture.

I did have a chance to attend this year with my students (and sister!) helping out with the red carpet while cheering on current and former students on the KYD social media team.

Content » Broadcast Event

The Derby is no longer a “broadcast” event as it’s a content ecosystem. From behind-the-scenes access to real-time storytelling, the social teams leaned into immediacy. Red carpet moments weren’t saved for post-event highlight reels as they were captured, clipped, and shared in the moment.

In today’s landscape, relevance has a shelf life measured in minutes, not days. The brands and teams that won at Derby 152 understood that content isn’t something you document after but it’s something you design for as it happens.

Experiential Activations

Another standout trend was the power of experiential activations designed for social. This wasn’t just about looking good in person as it was about being shareable by design. Installations, brand moments, and sponsor activations (especially from teams like L’Oréal Paris, WNBA, and Hallmark) felt intentional, visual, and ready for the feed.

The best activations had one thing in common: they made it easy for attendees to become creators. When your audience is doing the storytelling for you, you’re not just reaching people - you’re scaling culture.

Creators and Influencers

Creator and influencer integration also leveled up this year. This wasn’t random invites and hope-for-the-best posting. The strategy was clear: align creators with specific moments, aesthetics, and audiences.

@hauskriscraziest day ever!!!! @loréal paris usa ily 💖🐎 #kentuckyderby #dayinmylife #brandtrip #brandtripvlog #dayinthelife

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The result? Content that felt native, not forced. The smartest brands treated creators like partners in storytelling, not just distribution channels.

Platform-specific strategy

There was also a noticeable polish in platform-specific strategy. Short-form video dominated (no surprise), but what mattered more was how it was executed.

@kentuckyderbyGrab your besties, it's Derby Day! 🌹 #KentuckyDerby #Besties #SplitScreen #Girls #Fashion

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What am I talking about? I am talking about the TikTok-style edits, Instagram Reels pacing, and vertical-first framing showed that teams weren’t just repurposing content as they were building it with each platform in mind.

Tradition+Trend

The Kentucky Derby does better than almost any event: tradition + trend. The storytelling still honored the history with the horses, the pageantry, the legacy - but it didn’t feel stuck in it.

@kentuckyderbyGuess what? #horses #kentuckyderby #churchilldowns #horsetok

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Instead, those elements became the anchor for modern storytelling. That’s the sweet spot brands should be studying.

Final Takeaways

If there’s one takeaway from Derby 152, it’s this: events are no longer just physical experience: they are content engines. The brands that win are the ones who plan for that from the start. They think in moments, design for participation, empower creators, and move at the speed of culture.

The Derby has always been iconic. But what we saw this year? It’s becoming something even more powerful:

Massive props to the amazing team over at Churchill Downs and special shout out to Maggie and the social media team (and my former students Jacey, Ella, and Lauren!) for a truly remarkable year of creating social media for one of the premier global sporting events!

Because while the Kentucky Derby takes center stage, I’m also thinking about the USC–UCLA Dual Meet. Why do you say this, Karen?

Some of my colleagues today do not know I was a student athlete back in the day. I do look a bit different now (100 lbs lighter and a little less intimidating when taking action photos!), but I was a shot putter for 10 years in Jr. High, High School, and College. I was pretty decent (4x All American, 2x SEC Champion, Olympic Trials Finalist in 2004, 2x CA State Champion, and of course I was .25 inches off of the National HS Shot Put record in HS - so close!!!)

Out of a ten-year track and field career, the dual meet I competed in 20 years ago remains my favorite. Not because it was easy, but because it was anything but.

This year marks 20 years since I competed in it.

Growing Up in CA with two UCLA graduates

I grew up in a household where UCLA wasn’t just a school, it was part of our identity. Both of my parents went and graduated from there. My dad wasn’t just an alum, he was the school record holder in the discus and a team captain in the 1970s. That legacy wasn’t subtle. It was known. I grew up hearing all about the USC-UCLA dual meet. I even had a Bruins shirt I wore in HS (gasp, I know!!)

When time came in HS for college recruiting offers, UCLA didn’t recruit me. Even when I as the top thrower in the US (2x CA State Champion in the shot put) and was a half inch off the National Record.

There were reasons given at the time. Some made sense, some didn’t. But regardless, the message was clear: I wasn’t part of their plan at the time.

However, this allowed me to have some options to go out of state (and ultimately, I am grateful to not have gone there as I do not think I’d be where I am today if I did).

Fast forward to when I was at UF, I had a potential career ending back injury (literally had my doctor tell me if I continued - I would not be walking by the time I was 40). That was a huge wake up call. I was able to compete at the 2004 Olympic Trials (placed ninth) and hung up my track shoes to finish my degree at UF as a student.

I lost at least 30 lbs during that year as I increased my cardio, put up my throwing shoes, stopped lifting heavy and focused more on toning exercises, took a running class, and changed my diet because I thought - I am now retired from track. Right?

I spent my last year taking more classes to finish my degree early so I could go on to graduate school at USC. I got accepted and was thrilled to continue my education there. I moved from FL back to CA after walking across the stage getting my undergraduate degree in PR, and made the move across the country.

Little did I know what was in store. As soon as I got to campus - I was greeted by professors and colleagues at USC Annenberg. But I was also greeted by the track and field coaches and athletic department as they realized since I sat out my last year, I still had one full year of eligibility left for my collegiate career, and offered me a full scholarship.

This was quite new because in 2005 - there were literally NO graduate students who were competing in collegiate athletics. I had to tell my athletic academic advisor I would die if I had to take 15 units (he said I was not going full time at 9 graduate class units, but I had to tell him I was a graduate student!) I had professors at USC Annenberg who were like - what are you doing for a job and why are you not working at an agency in PR here in LA? I told them: I am here to throw things far - that’s my job.

Your USC Mission (if you choose to accept it)

When I first met legendary head coach Ron Allice to chat about my role on the track and field team, he didn’t give me a long speech. He didn’t try to oversell anything. He looked at me and said, very directly, that I had one job and one job only:

That was it. He didn’t care about conference, regionals, or even Nationals. Just win the dual meet.

No pressure, right? However - there is MORE!! Just to add another layer because - why not?!!

So the expectations were clear but what about the stakes? This was very clear.

Now layer in everything else:

• Competing at UCLA’s home facility.

• In the same shot put ring my dad competed in decades earlier.

• Being a Freberg wearing a USC uniform in front of blue and gold crowd and being the ONLY woman representing USC in the shot put competition.

• Jumpstart my lifting and throwing training to be at the level I was before my back injury in less than a year.

• Add in the distractions, the noise, the pressure from every direction, internal and external. UCLA did everything (EVERYTHING) possible to distract me before and during the meet.

• Had track insiders and other coaches (including the former UCLA head coach that my Dad had and also was at USC for a time) say “I was not a factor” for the meet and UCLA would win this easily.

It would have been easy to get overwhelmed.

Yet, here’s the thing about pressure: it doesn’t create who you are. It reveals it.

Dual Meet 20 years ago

I remember that day as it was yesterday - I didn’t just compete. I locked in. Even with the distractions, pressure, and all of the focus on this event. I did what I was expected to do:

I won the shot put. I PR’d. I broke the school record.

A Freberg won the women’s shot put event for the first time in history against UCLA. I didn’t stop there. I also PR’d in the discus and hammer, scoring additional points for the team. I was the PAC 12 Field Athlete of the Week after that.

It was one of those rare, storybook moments where everything aligns. One of my all time favorite movies is “The Replacements” with Keanu Reeves and Gene Hackman. It really reminded me how I felt during the 2006 season as I felt I was given another chance to end my track and field career on a high note and on my terms.

At the track and field banquet the following year, I was honored with the Come Through Performance Award at our annual banquet. While that recognition meant a lot to me (here I am pictured above with Coach Ron Allice who was telling the story how “I destroyed them” at the dual meet), what stayed with me wasn’t the award.

It was what it represented.

• Showing up when it mattered.

• Performing when the pressure was real.

• Delivering when the outcome wasn’t guaranteed.

Looking back now, that meet taught me more than any textbook, any lecture, or any professional experience ever could.

Rejection is not a verdict but rather redirection. UCLA not recruiting me didn’t end my story. It clarified it.

Pressure is a privilege. If people are expecting something from you, it means you’re in the arena. I knew my job. I knew my moment, and I made the choice to meet it.

Where I am today

Twenty years later, that mindset shows up everywhere in my life. In the classroom. In building programs. In navigating challenges that don’t come with a scoreboard but still carry weight.

We talk a lot about resilience, grit, and mindset like they’re buzzwords.

They’re not. They’re built in moments like this.

• No matter the noise.

• No matter the pressure.

• No matter the odds.

Best of luck to all of the athletes competing this weekend and as always: Fight On!

There’s a certain energy that hits this time of year. Finals. Deadlines. Events. For me, it’s also mini marathon training, Derby prep, wrapping client work, and closing out another semester. It’s a lot. I have to say - it’s easy to default into “just get through it” mode, I’ve never seen this stretch that way.

This is a performance moment.

Why do I say this? When I was competing in track and field in HS and college, the biggest meets didn’t care how busy you were, how tired you felt, or how many things you had going on outside the arena. You showed up ready, or you didn’t. That mindset has stayed with me even 20 years later.

How you communicate, how you deliver, how you show up for others when everything is competing for your attention - that’s what people remember.

This is where I see the biggest disconnect with students and even professionals. We spend so much time focusing on building our brand through content, posts, and strategy, but forget that our reputation is built in moments like these.

Let’s have a KareFre conversation about it.

How do we do this?

The shift is simple, but not easy. Stop managing time and start managing energy. Not everything needs to be perfect, but everything should be intentional. Where are you at your best? Where do you need to be locked in? Where can you give yourself space to reset so you don’t burn out before you finish? Performance isn’t about doing more. It’s about doing what matters, well.

Another hot take and reality check is this: People are watching, even if it doesn’t feel like it. Your teammates. Your professors. Your clients. Your peers. Are you responsive? Are you reliable? Are you someone others can count on when it matters most? You don’t build that reputation in the easy weeks. You build it now.

There’s also another aspect I try to share in and out of the classroom that sometimes gets overlooked. You can be high-performing and still take care of yourself.

In fact, you have to. Sleep is not a weakness. Taking a break is not falling behind. Stepping outside, resetting your mind, fueling your body - that’s part of the work!!! The best performers don’t run themselves into the ground. They know how to sustain excellence.

Best Practices Heading to Finals (for students AND professors)

• Train your energy, not just your schedule.Your calendar may be packed, but your performance depends on when you are at your best. Identify your peak focus windows and protect them for high-impact work. Don’t waste your best energy on low-priority tasks.

• Prioritize deliverables that define your reputation. Not all tasks carry the same weight. Focus on the assignments, meetings, and moments where your work will be seen, evaluated, or remembered. This is where your brand is built in real time.

• Communicate like a professional, especially under pressure. Quick updates, clear expectations, and proactive check-ins go a long way. Being responsive and reliable during busy moments sets you apart more than any polished post ever could.

• Build in recovery as part of the process. Performance requires sustainability. Schedule short resets, workouts, walks (especially with cute pups like Mando!), coffee breaks, rest, and fuel yourself properly. You don’t earn points for burnout. You earn respect for consistency.

• Finish with intention, not exhaustion. Anyone can start strong. Few finish strong. Double-check your work, follow through on commitments, and close things out with the same level of care you started with. That final impression lasts.

Summary

As we head into the final stretch, I’ll leave you with this. Don’t treat this week like something to survive.

Treat it like something to step into.

Be intentional.

Be present.

Deliver on what you said you would do.

Support the people around you.

At the end of the day, legacy is built in moments like this. Not when things are easy, but when they matter most.

There’s a moment that happens at great conferences where the keynote lands, the room hums, and you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. That’s the magic of conferences. They create intentional collisions between ideas, people, industries, and possibilities. They give structure to learning. They signal what matters now.

For many of us in academia and industry, they’ve long been the gold standard for professional development.

In my academic career, I’ve been to a lot of conferences. A LOT. My summer for the first few years of my academic career were filled with travel and conferences, where i would spend perhaps only two weeks in Louisville.

These conferences were not just in one category, but a range. Industry. Academic. Invited. They all have unique characteristics and values to them. Conferences still offer undeniable value, especially through curated learning. The best conferences act as filters in an overwhelming information environment.

Instead of sifting through endless articles, posts, and trends, you’re given a distilled view of the most relevant ideas shaping the field. For professors, this might mean understanding how AI is transforming communication theory and pedagogy. For students, it’s exposure to emerging career paths and skillsets they didn’t even know existed. For professionals, it’s about staying competitive and informed in a landscape that changes daily. Conferences provide that clarity and they do it in a way that feels both structured and strategic.

Value of Conferences

Equally important is the density of networking that conferences provide. There’s something powerful about being in a space where everyone is there with a shared purpose to learn, connect, and grow. These are not passive interactions. They are high-energy, high-intent conversations that can lead to collaborations, mentorship, job opportunities, or even entirely new directions. The hallway conversations, the quick coffee chats, the post-panel discussions. These are often where the real value lives. It’s not just who you meet, but the mindset everyone is in when you meet them.

In addition, conferences also continue to serve as platforms for credibility and visibility. Presenting at a conference, attending key sessions, or even thoughtfully sharing takeaways on social media contributes to your professional identity. For professors, this ties into research dissemination and thought leadership. For students, it builds early signals of engagement and initiative. For professionals, it reinforces expertise and relevance. Conferences are still deeply embedded in how we demonstrate that we are active participants in our field.

I was told many, MANY times during my academic career the importance of networking and making sure people could put a “face” on the researcher, professor, and scholar.

Wait, has the landscape changed?

However, the landscape is shifting. Increasingly, some of the most powerful learning experiences are happening outside of formal conference settings. They are happening in real time and within culture itself.

Events like the Kentucky Derby, Formula 1, Super Bowl, NBA All-Stars, and Coachella are no longer just entertainment or sporting events. They are dynamic ecosystems where branding, storytelling, audience engagement, and technology come together in highly visible and highly strategic ways.

So how are these events demonstrating this?

• Kentucky Derby (which KYD 152 is happening in a few weeks!) presents a masterclass in brand identity and experience design. There is a seamless blending of tradition and modernity where heritage elements like fashion and ritual coexist with influencer activations, branded content, and global media coverage. You can observe how brands position themselves within a cultural moment, how audiences engage both in person and online, and how storytelling extends far beyond the event itself.

• Formula 1 offers a different, but equally powerful, learning environment. It is a global case study in scaling a brand across markets while maintaining a consistent identity. Each race integrates with its host city, creating a localized yet globally connected experience. Fan engagement spans broadcast, social media, immersive experiences, and data-driven personalization. Being present in that environment allows you to see how strategy operates at a global level, across multiple touchpoints simultaneously.

• Coachella, which may be one of the most vivid examples of the creator economy in action. This is where culture is not just reflected but it is created. Brands don’t just advertise - they design experiences specifically for shareability. Influencers and creators become central distribution channels. Trends are launched, amplified, and sometimes exhausted all within the span of a single weekend.

What makes these events so powerful as learning environments is that they collapse the distance between theory and practice.

You can see what works, what doesn’t, how audiences respond, and how brands adapt moment by moment. It’s immediate, immersive, and often more memorable.

What’s Next For Conferences and Learning Opportunities?

The question remains do we need to wait for formal conferences to learn?

The most effective approach moving forward is not choosing one over the other, but integrating both. Conferences provide the frameworks, language, and strategic grounding. Events and experiences provide the application, context, and real-time insight. Together, they create a more holistic learning ecosystem.

For professors, this means expanding what counts as a “learning environment” and bringing these real-world observations back into the classroom. For students, it means recognizing that some of the most valuable insights may come from being present, observing, and analyzing culture as it happens. For professionals, it means staying curious and treating every major event as an opportunity to learn, not just attend.

The future of learning isn’t confined to conference rooms. It’s happening everywhere. The question is no longer whether these spaces have value, but rather it’s whether we are paying attention when the learning is right in front of us.

Here are my recommendations:

• Pair Theory with a Live Case Study (On Purpose) in your Schedule. Don’t just attend a conference and hope inspiration strikes, but anchor it to a real-world event. For example, if you’re attending PR or marketing sessions at PRSA ICON or INBOUND, pair that with analyzing activations at the Kentucky Derby. Sit in sessions about brand storytelling, then go watch it unfold from sponsorships to influencer coverage to experiential design.

• Build a “Before–During–After” Learning Loop. Most people treat conferences and events as one-off experiences. Instead, research the event, brands, and key players; capture observations (content, notes, interviews, social listening); and reflect to connect insights back to theory and strategy For instance, attend sessions at Cannes Lions and then analyze activations at Coachella through that lens to see what strategies translated, and which ones did not.

• Create Portfolio-Ready Outputs. If it doesn’t turn into something tangible, you’re leaving value on the table. After studying fan engagement at Formula 1, build a short deck on “What F1 Teaches Us About Global Brand Ecosystems.” Every conference + event pairing should result in at least one portfolio piece.

• Cross-Pollinate Your Network (Rooms → Real World). The people you meet at conferences? Bring them into the conversation after the event. For example, after attending Social Media Week, reach out to a speaker and say: “I saw this exact strategy play out at Coachella and here’s what worked in real time.” This is how you move from attendee → contributor.

The future of learning isn’t about sitting in a ballroom or standing in a crowd but rather it’s about knowing how to move between both with intention.

The people who stand out? They don’t just attend either. They connect the dots and then create something from it.

Not the performative, LinkedIn-comment-section kind. Not the “per my last email 😊” kind. So, you may be asking - what do you mean, Karen? I mean real, intentional, professional kindness. Especially for professors.

Yes, I am talking about professors. Because here’s the truth - academia runs on evaluation. Peer reviews, student evaluations, annual reviews - we see feedback is everywhere. While these systems are designed to maintain quality and improve performance, they are also deeply human processes, shaped by bias, emotion, and interpretation. This is exactly why kindness matters.

Why am I bringing this up? Well, a friend of mine, Matt Prince, shared a post recently that stuck with me not because it was groundbreaking, but because it was grounding.

Trust me, I have had my own share of comments and evaluations over the years. Teaching evaluations can be entertaining as well as book reviews or even tenure/promotion ones.

The core reminder? You don’t know what someone is carrying when you evaluate them. As professors, we evaluate constantly. Teaching, research, service, each other.

But here’s the issue and where the tension arises: we are expected to be both critics and colleagues. Sometimes (well, more often than not), we lean too far into the critic role and forget the colleague part. You can be rigorous and still be respectful. You can be critical and still be constructive. That’s not a contradiction - that’s the job.

Now, what I am saying here is that kindness doesn’t mean lowering the bar. It doesn’t mean avoiding hard conversations or giving everyone a pass. It means giving feedback that actually helps someone improve. It means being specific without being dismissive, direct without being demeaning, and thoughtful about how your words land.

So let’s have a KareFre Conversation about it.

Let’s Talk about Kindness

We also need to talk about kindness from the professor-to-student perspective. Students today are navigating a system they didn’t design. What happens in the classroom is increasingly shaped by administrative expectations, accreditation requirements, employer demands, and now AI integration. So when students push back or question assignments, it’s not always resistance as it’s often confusion, overwhelm, or misalignment in expectations.

With that being said, kindness has to go both ways. Students, this is your reminder: your teaching evaluations matter more than you may realize. They are not just feedback forms as they are documents that can influence promotion, tenure, merit reviews, and how professors are perceived within their institutions.

If something didn’t work for you, say that, but say it in a way that is constructive, specific, and fair. Professors are not just delivering content as they are navigating institutional expectations, evolving industry demands, and often constraints you don’t see. A thoughtful evaluation can help improve a course. A careless one can do more harm than intended.

Kindness in the classroom also means setting expectations with purpose. We are not creating busy work as professor. We are are preparing students for environments that will expect them to think critically, communicate strategically, and perform professionally.

Sometimes the frustration students feel is actually friction between what they expect education to be and what the world is demanding from them. Helping them navigate that tension is part of the job, and we can do that with both clarity and care.

How to be Kind 101

There are many ways we can create a positive, sustainable, and energetic environment that promotes kindness for everyone involved. We need more kindness in the world today, and here are some thing we can integrate into our practices on both sides of the classroom.

Be Direct, Not Destructive. Kindness doesn’t mean avoiding honesty, it means delivering it in a way that actually helps.

• Professors → Students: Give feedback that shows how to improve, not just what’s wrong. “This needs work” is vague. “Here’s how to strengthen your argument” is leadership.

• Students → Professors: If something isn’t working, say it, but say it constructively. “This class is confusing” hits differently than “Here’s where I’m getting lost.”

Assume Positive Intent First. Not everything is a personal attack, even if it feels like it.

• Professors → Students: That late assignment or quiet participation? It might be overwhelm, not apathy. Start with curiosity before judgment.

• Students → Professors: That tough assignment or strict policy? It’s likely tied to real-world expectations, not a power move.

Respect the Role (and the Reality Behind It). Everyone is operating within a system with pressures you may not see.

• Professors → Students: Your class is one of many. Students are juggling workloads, jobs, and life. Rigor matters, but so does awareness.

• Students → Professors: Professors aren’t just “teaching a class.” They’re navigating research, service, admin expectations, and your evaluations matter.

Tone Travels (Especially in Writing). What you write sticks longer than what you say.

• Professors → Students: Written feedback should challenge, not discourage. You’re shaping confidence, not just correcting work.

• Students → Professors: Teaching evaluations and emails are read in high-stakes contexts. Snark might feel good in the moment, but professionalism goes further.

Focus on Growth, Not Gotchas. The goal is progress, not proving a point.

• Professors → Students: Design feedback and assignments that build skills, not just catch mistakes. You’re developing professionals, not grading papers.

• Students → Professors: Use feedback to improve the class experience, not to vent. The best evaluations help future students, too.

Summary

At the end of the day, academia is built on ideas, but it is sustained by people. If we want better scholarship, better teaching, and better outcomes, we need better interactions.

Remember this:

Kindness truly shapes culture, builds trust, and ultimately determines the kind of academic community we are creating, whether we realize it or not.

I am saying that these things do not matter. They absolutely do! However, if you’re paying attention to how opportunities actually happen in today’s workplace, you’ll notice something different.

Your network isn’t just a list of contacts. It’s your visibility, your credibility, and your access point to opportunities you can’t Google or apply for.

We had this conversation in our meeting on Friday with my good friend Joey Wagner. He shared his expertise, experience, and insights on how he got today, and he said his network is WAY more valuable than his net worth. Having this insight for students to grasp today is important, and a key asset to have for navigating this industry.

So how do we go about in doing this exactly?

Importance of Network

For students, this is the mindset shift that changes everything. Your degree is important, but your relationships are what make that degree work for you. The classmate you collaborate with today might be the one recommending you for a job tomorrow. The guest speaker you connect with after class could become your mentor, your reference, or your first client.

Networking isn’t about awkward LinkedIn messages or collecting business cards. It’s about showing up, being curious, doing good work, and staying connected. The students who stand out aren’t just the ones with strong GPAs as they’re the ones people remember and want to work with.

For professionals, your network is your career insurance policy. Industries shift. Roles evolve. Companies restructure. The people who stay relevant aren’t just the most technically skilled, but they’re the most connected. Your network becomes your sounding board, your source of insight, your early warning system for trends, and your pathway to what’s next.

And for professors, we have a responsibility here that goes beyond curriculum. We’re not just preparing students with knowledge as we’re preparing them with access. The classroom is one of the most powerful networking ecosystems students will ever be in, but only if we intentionally create those bridges. Bringing in guest speakers, connecting students to industry partners, encouraging collaboration, and modeling relationship-building ourselves. This is how we help students translate learning into opportunity. Our networks can become theirs, and that’s where real impact happens.

How to build your network

So what does building a network actually look like today? Especially in a world shaped by AI, content, and constant noise? It’s not about doing more. It’s about being more intentional and strategic with how you show up.

Here are some ways:

Start by shifting from “connection collecting” to connection cultivating. Instead of adding 50 people on LinkedIn, focus on building 5 meaningful relationships. Follow their work. Engage thoughtfully. Reference something specific when you reach out. AI can help you research someone’s background, recent projects, or content so your outreach is informed, but the message itself needs to sound like you. Personalization is your differentiator.

Create visibility through value-driven content. If you’re not posting, you’re invisible. Share what you’re learning, what you’re working on, and what you’re thinking about.

Use AI to maintain (not replace) relationships. One of the biggest challenges in networking is consistency. AI can help you track touchpoints, suggest follow-ups, or even remind you to check in with someone you haven’t talked to in a while. Think of it as your relationship management assistant. But when you reach out, make it human. A quick “saw this and thought of you” will always outperform a perfectly polished, generic message.

Build micro-communities, not just one-to-one connections. Group chats, Slack communities, shared Google Docs, private LinkedIn groups - these are where real conversations and collaborations happen. Don’t wait to be invited! You can create the space. Bring people together around a shared interest, project, or goal. That’s how you move from being a participant in a network to being a connector, and connectors are remembered.

Think like a collaborator, not a consumer. The best networkers don’t ask, “What can I get?” They ask, “What can we build?” Whether it’s co-creating content, partnering on a project, or amplifying someone else’s work, collaboration deepens relationships faster than any introduction ever could. AI can help identify alignment (ex.shared interests, overlapping audiences, complementary skills), but it’s your initiative that turns that insight into action.

Play the long game. The ROI of your network doesn’t show up overnight. It shows up in the unexpected introduction, the referral you didn’t ask for, the opportunity that finds you. Every interaction is a deposit. Every follow-up is a signal. Every moment of support builds trust equity over time.

At the end of the day, your net worth might reflect what you’ve earned, but your network reflects who’s willing to open doors for you, advocate for you, and build with you.