Letter of Nomination for Professor Kelley Crawford

Letter of Nomination for Professor Kelley Crawford

Suzanne & Stephen Weiss Award for Excellence in Undergraduate Teaching

When I signed up for Professor Kelley Crawford’s Alternative Journalism at the conclusion of my semester studying abroad, I was intrigued about the course content. I knew I had to fulfill my Tier-2 Writing Intensive Requirement, but that was all. I didn’t know anything about Professor Crawford.

Immediately, when she walked into class on our first day, her smile instilled a sense of warmth in me, and her energy was merely contagious. Any lingering doubt regarding whether or not this remained in the “potential drop” list dissipated, and I knew she was one of those cool professors who listens and genuinely cares.

On that Spring morning, I knew that she was one of those unique individuals; the type of person that brings you immediate joy; the type of person you are lucky to cross paths with. Yet, never in a million years could I have predicted the extent of her influence on me.

That Spring Semester, before COVID-19 amounted to campus closure, I spent three weeks bed- ridden, fighting a virus I couldn’t recover from. Being the type-A student I am, I was more afraid of losing the opportunity to establish a strong working relationship with my professors, equally as much, if not more, than I was worried about work. Professor Crawford was the only one of my professors who acknowledged my proactive efforts to self-advocate, despite my state of fragility, and told me to prioritize my recovery in lieu of stressing over the work. She trusted me, not only as a student but as a responsible adult, and isn’t that what all college students want to feel? I know that I do.

Still, to this day, she is the only academic figure I’ve studied with who emailed me solely to ask me how I was feeling. Those emails made any sense of angst entirely fade into the dark throughout those three weeks because she listened with a level of compassion that I had never experienced in nearly two decades worth of school.

A few weeks later, I found myself back at home, living with my parents, and getting acclimated to the foreign dynamic of e-learning. This sudden disruption to traditional academia’s logistics, particularly class sessions, felt like the whole semester had started all over again. We were all acclimating to a new environment, revised syllabi, and a plethora of technological challenges, which slowed the momentum in all of my courses, except for one — Alternative Journalism.

It didn’t matter that I was now clicking a button to attend class instead of strolling through campus to arrive for Professor Crawford’s class promptly. She brought the same vibrant energy, ear-to-ear smile, and dedication to her students she always had. While other professors let the technological challenges and awkward shifts in class proceedings take the front-seat in the students’ lens of focus, Professor Crawford did precisely the opposite.Per usual, she relished the opportunity to be glass-half-full about the seemingly less than ideal circumstances. Professor Crawford’s students knew they were not alone in this strenuous time, proving to have each of her students’ back, whether they were now a digital rectangle on a screen or seated in desks before her.

She was real.

She was honest.

She was vulnerable.

She was always listening.

While other professors tried desperately to plug through pre-existing lesson plans, grasping to the hope their students’ level of engagement would remain the same, Professor Crawford rewrote the remaining assignments’ inner workings. If this pandemic was going to change life as we know it, Professor Crawford knew that it was time to adapt, pivot, and innovate. Because she did, Alternative Journalism became my outlet — I worked through unnamed emotions, feeling lighter with each assignment while remaining on target with the course’s outlined learning objectives.

Crawford’s commitment to my growth, as both a student and individual, is the reason why I spent the remaining hours of my day stuck in quarantine, leisurely writing articles. She introduced me to what I now understand as an enormous appetite to learn, looking at things differently, and listening to myself. As if her existing workload wasn’t already hefty enough, she would consistently reach out to me via text and email, editing my work, providing me with feedback, and celebrating my growth as a writer. She had become not just my professor but also my inspiration, cheerleader, and greatest role model.

When this past Fall semester rolled around, I was in terrible shape. I’ve always suffered from anxiety and depression, but my pandemic fatigue has certainly exacerbated these existing challenges. For that reason, I opted to register as a “Distance Learner,” staying in Chicago to pursue my second to last semester of studies. Still, regardless of how far away I was to New Orleans, Professor Crawford consistently checked on me, encouraging me in the same way she always had. When it felt like no one was listening, or no one was there to offer support, Professor Crawford was. She was in my corner, whether I was listed as a current student of hers on canvas or not, and there are no words to adequately articulate how grateful I am — then, now, and always.

As I embark on my grand finale, graduating in May, it was merely a given that I had to finish my four years with Professor Crawford. Working as a Via Nola Vie intern, I have the privilege to work under her academic leadership one last time, although her gift of wisdom and contagious creativity will never cease to make my days in the future.

A few short weeks ago, I was waiting to meet with Professor Crawford on Zoom to discuss upcoming article ideas. The clock kept ticking, and the pit in my stomach grew heavier because Kelley Crawford is never late. Something was not right, and it is with great regret that my instinct was, in fact, a reality. Professor Crawford was in an accident — a terrible accident. I felt like my world was upside down, and I had little knowledge about whether or not she would come out of this on top. What I did know, however, is that life without Professor Crawford was unimaginable. I couldn’t focus on my school work, or anything deemed productive for that matter, so I asked myself a question I do when I am in a pickle, feeling uncertain of what to do next,

“What would Kelley say?” Once a question specific to journalistic pursuits, frequently used to work my way out of a writer’s block, now inserts itself into all aspects of my life because journalism and everyday curiosity, as Professor Crawford has taught me, are one and the same.

She would tell me to occupy myself with creative activities, so that is exactly what I did. I spent the day cooking my grandma’s infamous stew, and reading a book, start to finish. My phone was quiet, with no word on her wellbeing, but I didn’t need any notification to tell me she was fighting and fighting hard because that is who Professor Crawford is.

In true fashion, Professor Crawford showed up, even from the hospital bed in the ICU. Just as I had anticipated, she was fighting, not only for her health but also for her students. Her selflessness has always left me in awe, but this was unlike anything I had ever experienced over the past two wonderful years working with her.

Noted on the Suzanne & Stephen Weiss Award description reads the Latin phrase Non-Sibi Sed Suis, which translates to “not for one’s self, but for one’s own.” Reading this phrase brought tears to my eyes, happy tears, of course, knowing that this award is meant for the Professor Crawford’s of the Tulane Community. Like a golden nugget, they are hard to come by, but if you are lucky enough to discover that special member of Tulane Community, you will be forever changed.

Tulane University, thank you for leading me to my superhero, my “golden nugget,” Professor Crawford, who has undoubtedly changed my life.

Abigail Aronson

February 21, 2021