K was the first institution where I felt fully accepted, supported, and appreciated for who I was and for what I contributed. The collegial environment sustained me from my first year through the day I retired, giving me a sense of belonging that shaped my confidence as a teacher and scholar.

The students at K—curious, well-prepared and generous with their feedback—kept my passion for teaching alive. Their seriousness about learning pushed me to grow, and their kindness often lifted me more than they realized.

K offered me opportunities to develop as a leader, to engage in transformative international teaching and scholarship, and to participate in interdisciplinary work that ultimately led to my environmental economics textbook. These experiences broadened my intellectual horizons and helped shape the educator I became.

Looking back, I realize that K did more than shape my career; it deepened my commitment to students and gave me a professional home where my values and work could fully align.

As you reflect on your years at K, were there particular students, colleagues, or moments that stayed with you?

It is difficult for me to single out individuals, but certain students and moments have stayed with me. I was especially moved by students who arrived unsure of themselves and gradually discovered their abilities. Watching them grow in confidence and competence over their four years at K was one of the most rewarding aspects of my career. Their progress reminded me why teaching mattered so deeply to me.

I was also fortunate to work in a collegial culture that, in many ways, defined the institution’s character. Many colleagues played important roles in my development as a teacher and scholar, and I express my gratitude to them in the book. Of course, there were moments when I encountered attitudes that did not align with my values, but even those experiences taught me about leadership, humility, and the kind of colleague I aspired to be.

One of the most significant and impactful transformations I witnessed was K’s evolution from a predominantly white, Eurocentric institution to a more diverse and inclusive community. To live through that change—and to contribute to it in my own way—remains one of the defining experiences of my time at the college.

These students, colleagues, and moments taught me patience, resilience, and the profound privilege of being part of a community that was continually learning to become better.

How did your relationships with students influence your thinking—not only as a professor but as a person?

Throughout my teaching career, I was fortunate to build relationships with students grounded in trust, respect, and genuine care. Over time, I came to understand that these relationships shaped not only my approach to teaching but also my understanding of myself. They taught me that character—the quiet consistency of how one shows up—is the foundation of any meaningful teacher-student bond.

I was never known as an easy grader, yet students accepted my high expectations because they trusted my intentions. They believed I wanted them to grow, not merely to perform. Through them, I learned that challenge, when offered with clarity and goodwill, is not a burden but a gift. Their willingness to meet that challenge reshaped my thinking and affirmed that rigor and compassion are not opposites but partners.

As a person, I found these relationships humbling. They reminded me that influence is earned, not assumed; that young people respond not to authority but to authenticity; and that learning is most powerful when shared. Nothing has been more rewarding than hearing from former students who later recognized the value of being pushed, supported, and believed in. Their reflections taught me that the impact of teaching often reveals itself long after the classroom lights are off.

In this way, my students shaped my thinking as deeply as I shaped theirs. They made me a more patient teacher, a more attentive listener, and, I hope, a better human being.

Did writing about your own experience change the way you think about your career or the impact you have had?

Writing about my experience did not fundamentally change how I think about my career, but it sharpened and clarified what I had long sensed. My entry into teaching was never planned. I became a teacher almost by accident, despite having been trained exclusively as a researcher with strong empirical skills and no formal preparation for the classroom. Yet within two years of teaching at Allegheny College, where I taught before coming to K, I realized that what had begun as a career experiment had revealed my true calling. Nothing since has made me imagine a life outside teaching.

Revisiting these early years helped me see more clearly how I learned to reconcile two commitments I once feared were incompatible: the demands of full-time teaching at a small liberal arts college and the scholarly work that fed my intellectual curiosity. I had assumed one would inevitably crowd out the other. Instead, I discovered that teaching and research could inform and strengthen each other, though doing so required imagination and a willingness to shape my scholarly agenda around the rhythms of the classroom.

What the memoir distilled for me was the coherence of that journey. One of the accomplishments I value most is finding a way to build a career in which my teaching and scholarly lives were not competing forces but mutually sustaining. Writing the memoir helped me see that this alignment was not accidental at all, but a steady and shaping force throughout my professional life.

After spending so much time looking back, what lessons or perspectives feel most important to share with the next generation of students and faculty?

Looking back, the lesson I most want to share with students is simple: never underestimate the power of a liberal arts education. It prepares you not only for a career but also for a lifetime of learning, adaptation, and curiosity. I have found nothing more reliable for navigating an uncertain future. This does not diminish the value of vocational preparation; during my 17 years as department chair, I worked to integrate business courses into a liberal arts framework. It is challenging but deeply worthwhile.

To my faculty colleagues, I offer a reminder shaped by both history and experience. K has always been a resilient institution. Over its long history, it has weathered repeated cycles of financial strain—patterns driven by forces larger than the college itself. I witnessed this over my 34 years at K, and I write about it in my book. Through every downturn, the college has held fast to its core mission: a high‑quality liberal arts education.

We are again in a difficult moment, one shared by many small liberal arts colleges, especially as the very idea of liberal arts education faces public skepticism. Yet I have no doubt that K will endure this period as it has others and will ultimately emerge stronger. My advice to faculty and staff is steady and sincere: do not lose hope in K.

At the same time, looking ahead requires honesty about challenges that are not simply financial. My experience taught me that a collegial environment is vulnerable to slippage, and it’s something I hope the community will continue to guard against. Collegiality is not a luxury; it is the quiet foundation that allows a liberal arts institution to thrive.

I am also mindful of a deeper, more existential challenge: the rapid introduction of AI into learning and teaching. When the internet became widespread at the dawn of the 21st century, I worried about what it meant for a teacher who preferred chalk and blackboard. But the scale of today’s transformation is different. AI has the potential to fundamentally alter how knowledge is acquired and transmitted—an unknown, unfamiliar, and largely untested field. It is not a threat in the budgetary sense, but in the intellectual and pedagogical sense. My hope is that K will approach this moment with both caution and imagination, preserving the human core of education even as new tools reshape its landscape.

What has your latest chapter of life looked like since retiring?

Since retiring, my life has taken on a different but deeply meaningful direction—caring for my grandchildren, continuing my lifelong learning, and traveling when time allows, accompanied by my lifelong partner. I also devote a good deal of time to caring for my aging body through regular physical exercise, which has become an essential part of my daily routine.

How long did this project take, and where can readers find a copy of The Dessie Kid?

It was a long journey. Although the project spanned nearly six years, most of the writing happened over the past two. The book was never intended for commercial purposes. That is why I chose to self-publish through Palmetto Publishing, which allowed me to retain full copyright ownership while producing a professionally edited, high-quality book, and to manage distribution myself. These decisions were not cheaper or easier—quite the opposite. However, they gave me complete control over the process, from content to final production.

I believe the result is a substantive, thoughtfully crafted book, produced with care and intention. For those who wish to read it, the book can be ordered directly from the website created exclusively for its distribution: dessiekid.com.

For my colleagues and former students, if a signed copy would add a personal touch to your reading, I would be glad to provide one. You may contact me at ahmed@dessiekid.com. Lux Esto!