By J. Cody Nielsen
It was just after the turn of the century, and I was an undergraduate student at the University of Northern Iowa in Cedar Falls. While there, Bartlett Hall was my home; I lived first with Chad (still a friend) and then added two other friends in a suite my sophomore year. Today, Bartlett isn’t even a residence hall anymore, as it was converted nearly a decade ago to an office building. But those times formed lifelong memories and had a lasting influence on my work.
I treasured those late-night conversations that covered everything from our fandoms and our classes to the thrill of living away from home and our complaints about the lack of amenities. The most memorable conversations, though, centered around our identities, who we were, where we had come from, and where we thought we were going. Sometimes the conversation touched on religion. This was not an uncommon topic at Northern Iowa, and Bible study sessions were regularly held in the hall lounges. Invitations to join in were passed along through word-of-mouth and students going door-to-door. Attendance never felt required, but there was some peer pressure to be part of the in-crowd. Considering that I’m a White cis-het Danish-descended man, they probably saw me, decided I looked the part of a Christian, and would want to be there. And for a time, I did.
After graduation, I worked for a campus ministry, the Wesley Foundation. Wesley, as it is commonly known, still exists as one of hundreds of United Methodist-related campus ministries across the United States. I was at Wesley when I learned that one of the other Christian groups, an evangelical parachurch on campus, had been confronting several Catholic students, telling them that their religion was wrong and that they were all going to hell unless they converted. I was shocked at this behavior. Seeing religious beliefs being used to harm led me in many ways to my work in higher education now. I started in seminary to work in campus ministry and chaplaincy before disassembling that career path to become a professor of higher education focusing on equity and inclusion.
I convey this story because it can be easy to overlook the level to which religion is a part of the lived experiences of today’s students, particularly when compared to the amount of attention given to other aspects of students’ identities. This may sound counterintuitive, considering how many higher education institutions are deeply enmeshed in a historic relationship with Christianity. On campuses like Harvard and Yale, the first college residences were full of young men training to become clergy. In the public university era, federally supported by the Morrill Land-Grants Act of 1862, organizations like the YMCA became staples of the first college housing models in public settings. Those early YMCA chapters actually once established guidelines for students about proper conduct in housing and residence life. Even boarding schools could be considered within a Christianized framework.
In recent decades higher education has shifted toward a more neutral viewpoint regarding religion, often in the form of what is described as secularism. There are multitudes of reasons for this. One is the overarching belief illustrated by the results of the Pew Research Institute’s landmark 2014 Religious Landscape Study, which showed that 36% of those born between 1990 and 1996 considered themselves “religiously unaffiliated.” However, a recent report states that the decline has slowed and may actually have leveled off. While the narrative is accurate based on available campus data, the topic is more complex than a numbers game.
Researchers advocating for increased attention to (lower-case “r”) religion on campus include the husband and wife team of Douglas Jacobsen and Rhonda Hustedt Jacobsen. In their 2012 book No Longer Invisible: Religion in University Education, they offered, “Giving more careful attention to religion (broadly construed) has the possibility of enhancing the work of higher education in untold ways, because religion is inextricably blended into the key dispositions that drive learning itself. . . . Attending to religion can enliven all these dimensions of higher learning; ignoring religion undermines them.” Building off that work, John Schmalzbauer and Kathleen A. Mahoney, authors of The Resilience of Religion in American Higher Education, argue that “once portrayed as an island of secularity, higher education is more open to religious discourse and practice” and that “diverse expressions of student religiosity have become more visible, turning the campus union into a lively religious marketplace.”
Residence halls often include prayer rooms, foot-washing stations, private showers, and other tweaks to facilities, policies, and practices made in the spirit of religious accessibility.
Others argue that the failure to incorporate religious identities into the work of higher education is not only a missed opportunity but also detrimental. Jenny Small, author of Critical Religious Pluralism in Higher Education: A Social Justice Framework to Support Religious Diversity (2020), believes that defaulting to secularism can become problematic for campuses when they ignore the role of religion as a compounding aspect of marginalized students’ identities and that secularism is a “false promise that elevates (white) Christians above all others,” giving permission for those who have held dominant religious identities to maintain their status while denying the civil rights of all others. Small’s theory serves as the first form of critical theory, which directly interrogates the systemic and structural oppression of students due to failure to recognize Christian privilege and hegemony. Her theory explores ways for campuses to support these identities, identifying power dynamics between religious communities, especially as it pertains to dominant cultures versus minorities. One doesn’t need to look much further than the academic calendar for evidence of her point.
The efforts of some campuses to adapt to more religiously diverse populations are more visible than others. For example, religious accommodations are commonly offered for room assignments and dietary options. Residence halls often include prayer rooms, foot-washing stations, private showers, and other tweaks to facilities, policies, and practices made in the spirit of religious accessibility. While those efforts are commendable, there is still room for improvement.
The Interfaith Diversity Experiences and Attitudes Longitudinal Survey (IDEALS) grew out of previous studies such as Spirituality in Higher Education by Alexander Astin and Helen S. Astin and surveyed thousands of students from American colleges and universities. In the introduction to the report Bridging Religious Divides Through Higher Education, the authors wrote that “higher education is distinct in its capacity to prepare graduates for effective engagement within our religiously diverse society. Its deep commitment to the next generation of citizens and tomorrow’s workforce is central to its role in American society. Colleges and universities have long made concerted efforts to advance diversity in the areas of race, gender, and sexual orientation; however, religion has been continuously de-prioritized as an aspect of diversity work on most campuses.” The danger is that students are leaving campus without the religious literacy they will need as they encounter people of other religions in the workforce and throughout the rest of their lives. As the report concluded, “While most students see the importance of bridging religious divides, they may lack the skills they need to do so productively. When students were asked if they developed a deeper skill-set to interact with people of diverse beliefs during college, just 32% answered affirmatively.”
It is unclear if this perception of religious dialogue as a third rail not to be touched is the cause of or result of this lack of knowledge. What is clear is that staff are often not fully prepared to address the religious and cultural needs of students. One of the first steps in rectifying this is for professionals to determine their own relationship with religion. If that exercise illuminates any biases or stigmas, staff should make time to examine them. The path toward understanding others often starts with a better understanding of oneself. Staff should also work to build their own religious literacy and capacity. There are many valuable educational resources and programming options that explore religious, secular, and spiritual culture and identity; bringing together staff, resident assistants, and others, such as faculty or staff who lead religiously oriented student groups, will leverage a variety of lived experiences. Finally, it’s vital to focus on the intersectionality of identities. This is not about religion in isolation from race, gender, sexuality, ability, and other identities; it is about an intertwined and complex reality of identities.
These conversations can be difficult and tension-filled as the topics are likely to include both historic and contemporary issues. And they are not made any easier by the current political climate. But exploring these topics, frameworks, structures, and beliefs is worth the effort. Research shows that increased knowledge and positive exposure to those who hold different identities help bridge divides across religions and ideologies. As the IDEALS report showed, “providing space and support for individual worldview expression” can “create the conditions for learning how to bridge religious and worldview divides. When students believe places exist on campus where they can express their beliefs, and when they feel safe doing so, it suggests their religious identity is recognized and valued. Relatedly, when faculty and staff make accommodations for students to celebrate religious holidays or other important observances, students perceive support for their personal worldview.”
In their efforts to create housing environments welcoming to all students, housing and residence life departments can take a systemic and structural look at how religious identities are served. This is done by exploring the policies, procedures, and practices that have perhaps overtly privileged some students over others or have hindered religious, spiritual, and secular culture and identity from being a part of students’ lived experiences. Drawing upon the variety of students’ beliefs and backgrounds, while also focusing on improving the long-term campus climate, will make housing and residence life a model micro-community where all students can see others as they are, while they themselves feel seen as well.
J. Cody Nielsen is an assistant professor and the higher education and student affairs coordinator at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. He is the author of seven articles, two book chapters, and numerous columns and reports on religious, secular, and spiritual culture and identities.
