Ten simple rules for mentoring historically excluded students.

Joker, R., Osadchuk, L. C., Bianchi, T., Quinn, G., Knight, C., & Bruna, S. (2026). Ten simple rules for mentoring historically excluded students. College Teaching, 74(2), 168–174. https://doi.org/10.1080/87567555.2024.2319175

ABOUT THIS STUDY

Mentoring relationships can be especially consequential for students from historically excluded groups, yet prevailing mentoring norms in higher education often reflect white, middle class academic cultures that do not fit their experiences. In “Ten simple rules for mentoring historically excluded students,” Joker and colleagues offer a practice framework that grows out of a very specific mentoring context rather than a formal empirical study. The rules were developed within a medical anthropology lab at a predominantly white institution during the COVID-19 pandemic, where a diverse group of graduate students, alumni, and faculty met weekly to reflect on how they were mentoring one another as historically excluded, disabled, and queer scholars. From these conversations, they distilled ten rules that have not been experimentally tested as an intervention but are conceptually coherent and consistent with broader equity-focused mentoring scholarship.

The authors emphasize that these rules reflect their particular lab and institutional niche and should be read as experience-based guidance rather than universally generalizable or empirically validated standards. They do not present outcome data or claim that the rules have been evaluated across multiple settings. Instead, their contribution lies in translating lived experience and critical reflection into concrete language that can help mentors interrogate their own assumptions and practices. For practitioners and program leaders, the article is most useful when treated as a thoughtful, context-grounded set of prompts to be adapted, rather than as a prescriptive model to be adopted wholesale.

FINDINGS

The ten rules ask mentors to shift their mindsets, language, and everyday practices in specific ways.

Enter mentoring with an open mind. Mentors are urged to suspend assumptions about what a “good” academic path looks like and to recognize that historically excluded students may hold goals, values, and constraints that differ from their own. Rather than assuming that success means following a linear trajectory into academia, mentors are encouraged to listen closely to students’ aspirations and treat those aspirations as legitimate, even when they diverge from conventional disciplinary ideals. An open mind also involves a willingness to learn from students about their communities, knowledge traditions, and definitions of success.

Examine your positionality and power. Mentors are not neutral actors. Their race, gender, class background, citizenship, and institutional roles shape what students feel able to say, request, or refuse. The authors encourage mentors to reflect honestly on these dynamics and to be explicit about the formal power they hold over opportunities, evaluations, and letters. Naming positionality and power can make it easier for historically excluded students to navigate the relationship with greater honesty and agency, rather than silently accommodating unspoken hierarchies.

Commit to ongoing learning about students’ histories and realities. This rule frames learning as continuous rather than a one-time workshop. Mentors are encouraged to engage with scholarship and narratives on structural racism, classism, and other forms of exclusion in higher education so they are not relying on stereotypes or expecting students to serve as educators. Bringing this informed awareness into conversations helps mentors better interpret what students share and recognize when institutional practices are at odds with equity.

Ask students how they want to be described. Because mentors often introduce students in meetings, emails, talks, and recommendation letters, the language they use has real consequences. The authors advise mentors to check with students about names, pronouns, identities, and biographical details, including whether particular aspects of their background should be mentioned at all. Doing so helps avoid misnaming or misgendering and reduces the risk of centering parts of identity that students may prefer to keep private. It signals respect for students’ autonomy over their own narratives.

Avoid deficit-based language and narratives. Historically excluded students are frequently framed as “at risk” or “lacking,” and those frames often seep into how mentors talk and write about them. The authors recommend shifting toward asset-focused language that emphasizes strengths, persistence, creativity, and community ties, while still acknowledging the structural barriers students face. In practice, this means resisting characterizations that position students as problems to be fixed and instead interrogating how institutional structures create unequal conditions that students are working hard to navigate.

Honor students’ multiple identities without forcing disclosure. Students hold intersecting identities related to race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, disability, class, and more. The authors encourage mentors to create conditions in which students can share aspects of their identities if and when they choose, but never to pressure them to disclose, justify, or explain. Honoring multiple identities involves learning and using correct terminology, affirming students’ self-descriptions, and being attentive to how different identities shape participation and belonging in classrooms, labs, and departments. The emphasis is on responsiveness to what students volunteer, not curiosity about difference.

Respect students’ physical and cultural spaces. The framework emerged from a lab that functioned as a vital community space during the pandemic, which sensitized the authors to where mentoring happens. Traditional mentoring often defaults to faculty offices or labs that may feel unwelcoming or surveilled for historically excluded students. The authors encourage mentors to be flexible about meeting locations and open to spaces that feel safer or more affirming to students, including cultural centers, community venues, or online environments. They also call on mentors to treat these spaces with respect and to recognize that meaningful mentoring does not always need to occur on the mentor’s “home turf.”

Attend to departmental and campus climate. The authors widen the focus from the individual dyad to the broader environment in which mentoring unfolds, drawing on their own experiences in a predominantly white institution where historically excluded students encountered microaggressions and isolation. Mentors are encouraged to notice such patterns, validate students’ accounts, and consider how their own behavior and silence can either reinforce or challenge harmful climates. This may involve speaking up in meetings, questioning biased comments, or advocating for changes in everyday practices that disadvantage particular groups.

Use your influence to advocate for students. Mentors often have access to rooms and decision processes where choices are made about funding, authorship, awards, and opportunities. The authors argue that equity-oriented mentoring requires moving beyond advice and emotional support toward concrete advocacy. This can mean nominating students for recognition, ensuring they are fairly considered for competitive opportunities, and pushing back against policies or practices that systematically disadvantage historically excluded students. This rule is rooted in the group’s own reliance on one another’s advocacy to navigate institutional barriers.

Share power and be transparent about limits. Rather than treating goals, expectations, and boundaries as decisions made solely by the mentor, the authors encourage collaborative goal setting and clear communication about expectations on both sides. Sharing power also means being honest about where the mentor has decision authority and where they do not, acknowledging when a request cannot be met, and helping students identify alternatives. This transparency can reduce uncertainty and help historically excluded students participate more fully in shaping their mentoring experiences.

WHY IT MATTERS FOR MENTORING

Taken together, these ten rules offer a conceptually coherent, practice-oriented framework grounded in one lab’s experience rather than in a formal intervention trial. The authors do not claim universal applicability or provide outcome data, and the framework should be understood as niche and context specific. At the same time, the rules align well with broader work on culturally responsive and structurally aware mentoring and can serve as useful prompts for mentors, programs, and institutions seeking to be more intentional in supporting historically excluded students in higher education.

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