Professor Luce
Photography by Mason Schlopy
If you’re reading this, know that you are already enough. Period. No cap.
As a child, I always felt different from my other siblings, and I channeled that constant anxious energy into making everyone around me laugh. I medaled in high school competitions. I made up skits to perform at local organizations. I wasn’t a perfect student or child but I was clever and entertaining. Making people laugh felt like it helped me connect to people more than anything else I had to offer, so I leaned into it.
As life got more emotionally, physically, and mentally complicated with age, I tried harder to connect to prevent my biggest fear: that because I felt different, I would never have the same connections or happy life as other people. With each friendship that came and went, the anxiety returned stronger. With every relationship that ended in heartache, the fear took up more and more space, pushing out my differences until it felt like all I was or could be.
I still struggle with the anxiety of feeling out of place as an adult. Can my students tell I’m trans if I don’t say anything? Will students remember me as the guy who anxiously sweats all the time or the guy who taught me some cool stuff about writing? Will my wife be patient with my health challenges? Will I be able to communicate my work in a way that other professionals will value?
What I have at least come to understand, through years of dedicated mental health guidance, is that I am enough. Now I’m working to see my differences for what they are: my super strengths.
Being differently abled helps me understand and better meet students’ physical or mental needs. It pushes me to adapt information differently than I could otherwise. Being queer and trans makes me empathetic to the struggles that all humans experience during puberty and young adulthood. It enables me to offer sincere understanding and safety to LGBTQ+ students.
Being a working-class, first-generation college student means I understand the growing number of students anxious about obtaining a job with a living wage without life-long debt. As a recently diagnosed neurodivergent adult, I can earnestly encourage students to advocate for their learning needs and guide them to secure resources to enable their success. As a white professor, I acknowledge the access and privilege my position affords me, and I work to amplify marginalized voices at a traditionally white university. I try my best to help students see the worth in their voices.
You have worth. You have strengths. The things that make you different make you stronger. The things that you experience make you wiser. The things that you have to offer are powerful and worth sharing with the world.
I’m glad that you’re here, just as you are. And I look forward to seeing what super powers you discover on your journey to self-acceptance!
Professor Luce, Syracuse University
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