An exercise in finding hope in times of uncertainty + practical takeaways for policy administrators

This is not your typical policy post. I contemplated blog topics for months and everything that I came up with seemed pointless in the current chaos of our world as policy administrators. I was losing hope – fast. So, I wrote a "Dear Abby Letter" and let ChatGPT play the role of Abby. The results surprised me and prompted this post. (Abby's response was modified for length and audience.)

This was an exercise for me to find hope in my work again. It helped me identify practical ways to weather the storm and I hope it does the same for you.

Dear Abby:

I am a public servant working in higher education and, recently, it feels like my world is a shaken snow globe, flipped upside down. I am passionate about this industry and believe a university is THE COOLEST place to work. I know that those who work in higher education help make dreams come true and change lives for the better.

But in the past few months (well, maybe years) my work has been turned against me. You see, my role is to help ensure our university has policies that comply with federal and state rules, and to help members of my university know and understand these rules. Lately, the rules are changing at lightning speed, outside of normal processes, and are unlike anything I've had to help manage before. I'm no stranger to putting my head down and getting the work done or to swallowing my dissenting opinion on how things are executed. But right now, I feel like my values are being challenged. I KNOW my personal values are being violated, but my professional values, the ethics that are the foundation of my work, are being distorted.

Higher education is also facing huge financial challenges and I'm not certain about my professional future. Will I have to find a new job? Will I have to fall in love with a new industry? Usually, I turn to the university I serve and find hope in the students from all over the world, the mind-blowing research, and the energy that comes from innovation and growth. I'm losing hope. How do I weather this storm when it's a complete whiteout?

- Shaken Snow Globe

Dear Shaken Snow Globe:

First, let me say this: you are clearly someone who cares deeply—not just about rules and regulations, but about people, purpose, and doing what’s right. That kind of commitment is admirable.

It’s no small thing to feel your professional values—those carefully built foundations—being shaken. When the work you once saw as noble begins to feel compromised, it’s not just disorienting, it’s heartbreaking. And in higher education, where the stakes are high and the resources low, that heartbreak can be compounded by exhaustion, uncertainty, and loss of purpose.

 Rest assured, that even though the system is strained and the mission muddled, your values and talents are intact—they are your compass.

When your world feels like a total whiteout, the key is not to force clarity all at once, but to anchor yourself to what you do know:

• You know what you stand for.
• You know what doing the right thing looks like.
• You know your impact matters—even when it feels invisible.

In this storm, focus on finding even the smallest moments of alignment: a student who “gets it,” a colleague who shares your values, a task that feels true to your mission.

And as for your future—remember, uncertainty is not the enemy. It may be the invitation.

You asked, how do I weather this storm? The same way you’ve done your entire career: with courage, clarity, and conviction. But don’t try to do it alone. Talk to mentors. Seek allies. And if hope feels low—borrow some from those who believe in you.

The snow will settle. And when it does, you’ll still be standing—values intact, clearheaded, and compass pointing forward.

 With empathy and encouragement,

Abby

Weathering the Policy Storm: Practical Tips for Policy Administrators

The landscape of higher education is shifting rapidly, but there are steady practices and strategies that can help institutions not only survive but lead with clarity and integrity through turbulent times. Policy administrators are some of the most equipped people to navigate these storms.

Below are practical ways policy administrators can stay grounded and regain hope.

Lean into what’s already established and focus on what you can control.

• You’re prepared for this. Think about the standards, templates, systems, and processes you’ve developed or improved over the years. That’s your foundation.
• Leverage the Policy on Policies. When institutional policies must change quickly, ensure those updates still follow an approved process. If an expedited path doesn’t yet exist, document how decisions are made. Don't be afraid to lean on what you're known for -- consistency. Remind your leadership that how they choose to navigate a challenge today sets precedent for how the institution navigates similar challenges in the future.
• Don't skip documentation. It’s tempting to cut corners when under pressure, but accurate documentation—who was involved, what changed, when, and why—is critical for transparency and accountability.
• This is your bragging right: You know how to write effective policies that create guardrails for legal and ethical decision-making. Broad, well-written policies allow flexibility while ensuring requirements are met. Don’t underestimate how critical that is—especially now.

Celebrate the wins—big and small.

• Some of the changes in this storm are good changes. Think of the Stop Campus Hazing Act. It’s absolute chaos as we sprint towards the deadline, but we're helping create safer, more accountable environments.
• Crisis = Collaboration. Remember how quickly departments rallied during COVID? Urgent challenges often lead to increased cross-campus collaboration, more focused meetings, and stronger shared accountability.
• Tough moments reveal true partners. This moment is also clarifying. Like an outdated policy, it's what was believed to be true, but wasn't, that often causes the damage. In this storm you’ll discover who runs toward collaboration and who puts up walls. You’ll likely find new allies—and maybe feel let down by some familiar faces. Either way, clarity is a gift.

Reevaluate professional skills. You are talented.

• You do more than policy. Whether it’s sending concise yet informative emails, updating web content, coordinating teams, or managing complex changes—you are a multidimensional force with a wide range of skills. Just in case you have a hard time pinpointing these skills, I listed them here for you: adaptability, administrative coordination, attention to detail, change management, collaboration, compliance knowledge, continuous improvement, copyediting, critical thinking, data analysis, data tables/Excel, document management, ethics and discretion, leadership, presentation design, program management, project management, research, risk assessment, strategic planning, technical solution implementation and management, technical writing, time management, written and oral communication, and many more.
• Know your worth. You are valuable regardless of any threats to your values and beliefs that you have to face when you go to work. Continue to be you and find comfort knowing that you are not what is drastically changing.
• Knowing your worth can also mean reassessing your role or institution. It’s an unsettling thought, but it can also reveal new opportunities and affirm personal and professional priorities. With your skills and character, don't let this storm bury you because you're afraid to let go.

Final Reflection: Gratitude for Purposeful Work

This work is hard—but I love it enough that it shakes me to my core when it feels threatened. That’s a gift, because not everyone gets to feel so deeply about what they do.

This storm is a reminder of the value and resilience embedded in the work we do—and the important role we play in guiding our institutions through change.

What success says about you

The views expressed in this post are solely those of the author and do not represent the views of ACUPA or Purdue University.

At the end of your career, when you look back on it, what must have been present for you to feel as though you were successful? This is a job interview question I have asked various candidates over the years. I think the answer can be very telling of the person’s values and work ethic.

A common theme among the answers I hear is a feeling that they have made a difference. In my experience working in higher education for a dozen or so years, this theme tends to be common among anyone who works at a college or university—from faculty and administrators to groundskeepers and food service workers. It takes the efforts of everyone working on a campus to help our students succeed. Some jobs may have more direct contact with students, but other jobs, like policy administrators, work behind the scenes to keep the infrastructure in place. In doing so, we contribute to student success as well.

I’ll be honest, when I first applied for a job at Purdue University, I wanted to work here because I saw it as a stable employer with good benefits. I was looking to get away from both a job and an employer that were headed in a direction I did not want to go. The job I took at Purdue was more in line with my career goals, so I took a cut in pay to do work that was better suited to me. Shortly after I started at Purdue, the Great Recession hit, and my theory of employer stability was tested. Nevertheless, the benefits have remained good and I found an added benefit of working somewhere that values many of the same things I value: continuous learning, integrity, and honesty.

I still have a while to go before I get to the end of my career, but if I were asked the question about what will make me feel successful, I think I would say having good relationships with colleagues and coworkers. I cannot do my job without encouraging others to work with me. And I don’t want to be the person that everyone dreads hearing from. So, I have to invest in building relationships that sustain me each time I come knocking with a request to draft, review, or communicate something. When I am met with a smile and leave with a thank you, I know I have done something right.