The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.This is the city. I work here. I’m a faculty developer. My name is Thursday, Joe Thursday. It was a Friday. It was raining. I was writing up reports when the provost, Julie Wednesday, came into my office. She looked agitated. She started asking questions.
Leading with Compassion in the Face of Grief
Content warning: This article contains mentions of bereavement experiences, including loss of a parent.
When my mother passed away unexpectedly at the age of 67 this February, I could
Rebecca Pope-Ruark
November 20, 2023
