Converging Paths: An Autoethnographic Journey Through Adult Education and Human Resource Development at an HBCU

Adam

As a faculty member in the Master of Adult Education program at North Carolina A&T State, my professional and personal journey is deeply intertwined with my commitment to adult learning. What brings a middle-aged, non-disabled, cisgender, straight, white male from a middle-to-upper-class Midwest background to an HBCU? To be clear, this narrative is not about exploring my whiteness or indulging in white tears; instead, it focuses on bearing witness to the experiences of others and offering support where necessary. A profound love and dedication to adult education marks my autoethnographic journey. This commitment is continually renewed and deepened through daily academic and community interactions.

My journey into adult learning began after a brief career as a college football coach. Confronting the need for change, I decided to leave coaching, marking a crucial turning point as I stepped away from the only career path I had known and this period of introspection led me to a transformative experience I had years earlier in a master’s class titled The Adult Learner, sparking my pursuit of adult education as a pathway to redefine my life.

Entering the field of adult education proved far more emotionally complex than I had anticipated. It became a transformative experience aligned with Mezirow’s (1991) concept of perspective transformation, as I began to critically examine both my career path and personal identity. My master’s studies were marked by conflict, discovery, and deep reflection, ultimately driving me to pursue a doctoral degree with the goal of entering academia. That next stage of learning coincided with significant personal challenges that tested my resilience and further shaped my understanding of the relationship between emotion, learning, and growth. Through this process, I revisited earlier academic writings and recognized a longstanding ambition to become a scholar in the field of adult education.

Joining the program at A&T was more than just a professional move; it represented a search for a place where I could contribute meaningfully and continue my personal growth. I was attracted by the program’s commitment to supporting adult learners, offering me a platform to integrate and share the lessons from my own experiences. Occasionally, I get questioned, “Do you see yourself as a savior?” It is a challenging question, as I have never viewed my role in such terms. Instead, I encourage learners to engage deeply, think critically, and draw on their experiences. Our combined experiences are valuable and deserve to be celebrated and shared, facilitating learning for each other. I view each class and conversation as an opportunity for discovery, where learners and I can engage in meaningful dialogue about ideas and perspectives that profoundly shape our journeys.

James

I began my journey in higher education during my undergraduate years, driven by a deep-rooted commitment to serve my peers and create meaningful academic experiences. At my small, private liberal arts college in North Carolina, where the completion rate for Black students was under 5%, I became deeply involved in student leadership. Starting as Freshman Class President, then advancing to Vice President of the Student Government Association, and finally serving as Class President, I experienced the transformative power of leadership. My foundation began in a Title I high school nearby, an institution known for its close-knit community and commitment to supporting students of color, often affectionately referred to as the “mini HBCU.” I took pride in this community’s influence on my formative years, building resilience and a sense of purpose that continues to guide me.

After earning my bachelor’s degree, I accepted a role at a small, private junior college in North Carolina as a Residence Hall Director, eventually promoted to Director of Student Activities. This role challenged my leadership abilities unexpectedly, especially as I navigated the tension between students’ calls for culturally relevant programming and administrators’ hesitancy to fund DEI initiatives. In higher education, leaders often encounter significant challenges in advancing diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging (DEIB) efforts, especially in predominantly white institutions (Knippen & Ramsey-Tobienne, 2022). While striving to meet the diverse needs of students and faculty, leaders must also address the complexities of implementing culturally inclusive practices (Lopez, 2015). In this context, fostering collaboration and advocating for faculty-led DEIB initiatives is essential to overcoming resistance and creating meaningful change, ultimately promoting a more inclusive campus climate (Knippen & Ramsey-Tobienne, 2022). Despite these challenges, my dedication to fostering an inclusive community earned me the college’s highest recognition, an honor awarded by the college president, cabinet, board of trustees, and student government. This acknowledgment was a testament to my commitment to advocating for meaningful change within higher education spaces.

From there, I transitioned to serving in public administration within a federal agency. I held several positions, but my most memorable role was as the lead trainer for Human Resources. This position allowed me to develop training programs for HR specialists across various experience levels, equipping me with valuable insights into adult learning and instructional design. With diverse adult learners under my tutelage, I successfully trained hundreds of federal employees, garnering accolades for my ability to foster a robust, impactful learning environment. My years in federal service deepened my appreciation for structured, impactful training and reinforced my desire to empower others through education. After a decade in federal service, my longing to return to academia led me back to North Carolina A&T State University, first as an instructor of research methodology in the M.S. Adult Education program.

Bryle

There is a common motto amongst those attending North Carolina A&T State University: “Aggie born, Aggie bred, and when I die, I will be Aggie dead.” Having grown up in the city around the university and with all four of my grandparents who attended the institution, I am considered the quintessentially bred “aggie.” When I stepped on the campus in 2004 as a freshman, I knew the next 4 years of my life would be transformative. Like many 18-year-olds, I began my formal post-secondary educational experience as a legal adult with adolescent-at-best concepts of reality. While I knew I would receive the knowledge needed to choose a career path, I did not know where that path would lead outside of the prescriptive career booklets in any college-based career center.

Fast forward over 15 years later, and now, as a DEI and workforce development leader, I have enjoyed many successes and witnessed hundreds of my students finding new career paths through the work of adult education. I have also observed the inequities around career training and the human resource-aligned processes that failed the diverse needs of the unemployed and underemployed adults seeking a means to support themselves and their families. In these moments, my passion for adult education moved beyond simply coordinating formal learning programs to contextualizing learning needs to the identities and lived experiences that impact how we all learn and grow.

Over the years, I have had multiple leadership roles, all centered around supporting adults in their life advancement and career trajectory. I now sit in one of the greatest adult education intersections: that of practitioner and professor. My trajectory in autoethnographic research is significantly framed around both identities. I proudly use my experiences to inform how I engage in social, cultural, and communal learning and then use those learnings to facilitate knowledge and growth among adult populations.

My full-time position involves leading workforce engagement, focusing on the needs of 18,000 employees in a large-scale government setting, and advocating for people, culture, and belonging. I ensure that all employees come to work and engage in their workplace duties in an environment that sees their cultural identities as strengths rather than weaknesses. I am fortunate to enjoy what I do professionally and to have it supported and connected to my passion, adult learning. Outside of my full-time position, I also serve as an instructor of adult education and leadership studies in the program that taught me the fundamentals and practices of adult education, the last-standing adult education graduate program at an HBCU. As an alum of the program and now an instructor, I intentionally facilitate and encourage learning that will prepare our graduates to grow as adult educators and facilitate authentic learning experiences that can transform lives.

Adam

“Hey, what’s wrong,” my friend asked, answering the phone. “I’m nervous,” I replied, “why are you nervous?” I paused and said, “Okay, as my friend,” “You mean a Black friend,” they responded. We laughed, and I asked, “What if I am rejected or worse? How am I qualified for this position at this institution?” Integrating into an HBCU as a white male scholar never fully sank in until the weeks before the start of the semester. The initial challenge was overcoming the preconceptions about privilege and identity, both my own and those perceived by others. Being in a predominantly Black institution, my positionality stands in stark contrast to the majority of learners and colleagues. My role has brought both challenges and transformative learning opportunities, not only for myself but also for adult learners in the program.

“What are you doing here?” I paused, letting the question settle, looking first at the individual who asked, then at the others in the group. This was the first question I received from an adult learner at the new academic year open house. “I am here because of this program. I believe in adult education and the community it can build.” I often return to this interaction, not for how it was asked, but because it marked a critical moment of reflection. It pushed me to examine assumptions and fully commit to an adult education program where my positionality stood in stark contrast (Crenshaw, 1989; Mezirow, 2009).

A week later, in our first class, a student asked if I would deduct points for using a dialect like Ebonics in a critical reflection paper. I replied, “You tell your story, and if there’s something I don’t understand, I will ask.” The key is how you connect your experience to your learning and development.

That conversation on dialect created a valuable opportunity to engage critical race theory and explore how language reflects racial and cultural identity. It revealed my own biases and reinforced the importance of fostering an inclusive educational environment (Ladson-Billings & Tate, 1995). It also prompted deeper transformative learning by examining the intersections of my cultural identity with those of my students, ultimately strengthening our mutual respect (Crenshaw, 1989).

Another vital engagement occurred when the topic of privilege was discussed in class regarding an upcoming paper. “Okay, however, I do not think I have ‘unrealized privilege or advantages’ as a 21-year-old African American woman, so how would I go about this paper?” When I first read this email, I was terrified that I would be answering such a critical question. After several drafts, I responded in what I believed was respectable and, more importantly, did not hide from the question. In my response, I illustrated how privilege encompasses unseen advantages related to race, gender, class, sexuality, and ability, highlighting the importance of acknowledging these factors in comprehending social inequalities and our roles in society. This discussion sparked a revealing conversation later, during which the student shared her hesitations about addressing privilege, particularly questioning how a white male could relate to her experiences. This encouraged me to further explore Crenshaw’s (1989) intersectionality theory, which emphasizes the complex interplay of multiple dimensions of privilege, prompting me to confront my own unrecognized privileges and enhance my understanding of these intricate social dynamics. This experience underscored the significance of humility and the need to acknowledge my lack of knowledge about different racial and cultural experiences. Engaging in these conversations enhances my understanding of the vital role of actively listening to diverse perspectives shaped by varying societal dynamics.

James

Teaching at an institution has been integral to my journey from childhood to adulthood and has been both humbling and exhilarating. After 2 years of dedicated instruction, I accepted the Assistant Professor in Leadership Studies role, focusing on the Higher Education cognate. Guiding students in exploring higher education and research, particularly at an HBCU that has been a constant source of inspiration, feels deeply meaningful and affirming. However, my path to serving in higher education has not been without its hurdles. Years ago, when I first applied for a role in student affairs at North Carolina A&T, I was told by a search committee chair that my experiences might not resonate with students because I had not attended an HBCU myself. This feedback felt like a blow, as I had anticipated the question of overcoming challenges. However, I never expected to be questioned for my educational background in a way that seemed to disregard my identity and lived experiences as a Black man. Preparing for my interview, I grappled with whether to share my “healed scars” from previous interview experiences or to focus on other challenges. The interviewing experience had been incredibly intense; I knew the institution and the stakeholders and had built strong community ties. I even felt confident after a day-long interview with multiple panels and vice-chancellors. Still, despite my preparation and credentials, my education from predominantly White institutions was seen as a potential barrier to connection with students.

This experience was initially painful but has become part of my purpose. I now realize that the richness of my identity, shaped by diverse educational environments and deep community connections, brings value and perspective to my role. Ironically, NC A&T had always felt part of my identity due to my community ties. Having genuinely secured my spot here, I am increasingly driven to serve, inspire, and support students. For those who, like me, feel a powerful connection to this institution, I aim to be a model of resilience and inclusivity, showing that diverse experiences can enrich our shared commitment to HBCU excellence and community. This experience highlighted how intersectionality influences our academic paths. My shared racial identity didn’t diminish the significance of my unique educational and professional experiences. It emphasized the need to recognize overlapping identities to foster inclusive and culturally responsive learning environments (Crenshaw, 1989).

Bryle

Some would say working with children is more complex than working with adults. I would counter that consideration by adding that in teaching children, you start from limited, if any, lived experience. When teaching adults, one is assessing and building upon several years of experiences, biases, and beliefs that govern how they have lived and functioned throughout their lifetime. The best metaphorical example for me would be, is it easier to build a house or remodel one from the foundation to the roof? As an adult educator focusing on workforce training and diversity, equity, and inclusion principles, I constantly facilitate knowledge that could knock down and remodel a learner’s socio-emotional “home.” Many adults view the world and their functionality through an endless set of biases that possibly formed from childhood. These biases are not always harmful but govern emotions, practices, and interactions with others.

Most organizations use workplace training to focus on risk mitigation for safety hazards, compliance, and team collaboration. However, recent social and political times have driven the field to explore identity deeply and lived experience as risks for workplace retention, decision-making, and profitability. Within an HBCU setting, there is an external opinion that diversity is not a factor in students’ day-to-day experiences, considering that most students share a similar racial/ethnic identity. The lesser-known observation is that while racial/ethnic identities are more prominently shared, the other factors of culture and lived experiences significantly differ. Perhaps these differences are even more prominent among adult learners as they have moved into and obtained stronger connections to their cultural identities.

During my first semester teaching, I assumed that because most students had committed to an HBCU education and shared similar lived experiences, my facilitation style would resonate similarly with all of them in the course. However, that assumption did not reflect the realities of their experiences. Although there were demographic similarities, my adult learners navigated daily realities that spanned a wide range of identities, cultural norms, and belief systems. Their diverse lived experiences quickly became more important to center than any lesson plan or assignment I could design. Teaching this group has significantly strengthened my culturally responsive approach, a core principle in critical race theory. It deepened my understanding of identity and enriched our collective learning environment (Ladson-Billings & Tate, 1995).

My dual role, practitioner by day and professor by night, allowed me to bridge academic and professional spaces. I found that my facilitation with students needed to mirror the assessment and training I conducted with employees. Whitburn and Corcoran (2021) emphasize the importance of assessing attitudes, not just content, in diversity work. In turn, I added structured educational components to workplace training and incorporated life-work context into classroom discussions. My staffers benefited from the structure and learning content typically provided to my students, and my students needed the life-work context typically offered to my staffers.

Adam

Having embraced autoethnography in my academic identity, I continually seek ways to integrate the unique personal and cultural narratives that significantly enrich adult education. This approach illuminates cross-cultural positioning and enhances interactions between learners and facilitators. A practical application of this method I incorporate within classes where adult learners are invited to select and share an artifact representing an aspect of their culture. This exercise can transform the classroom into a dynamic space where each participant shares and explores the significance of their chosen artifact, thereby revealing its impact on their learning journeys. Chang et al. (2016) assert that written texts often fail to capture the whole truth about a person, place, or context due to their limitations, advocating for additional artifacts to bridge these informational gaps. Muncey (2010) echoes this sentiment, emphasizing the value of these artifacts in autoethnographic research as they provide supplementary evidence and help complete the narrative.

I was particularly struck by one adult learner’s choice to bring a pair of hair clippers as their cultural artifact. This sparked an extended conversation beyond the classroom, where we exchanged personal stories about our grooming experiences. These discussions evolved into a duo autoethnographic presentation, allowing us to intertwine our personal experiences with academic research. This yielded a rich, dual narrative that underscored how different grooming environments serve as informal learning spaces. In our exploration, we observed that barbershops, often vibrant social hubs, provide a space for men to receive haircuts and share stories, advice, and fellowship. Meanwhile, though more private, home grooming practices are equally rich in cultural transmission and familial bonding. Our shared storytelling demonstrates how adopting more inclusive and culturally responsive teaching strategies can enhance adult education. This autoethnographic activity is a powerful illustration of how storytelling and representation, deeply embedded in specific cultural practices, can effectively innovate educational and training practices. It highlights the transformative potential of blending personal experiences with academic inquiry, enriching the educational experience.

Although I use this in the learning environment, storytelling is the most impactful learning for me, and it occurs during advising and informal discussions. Storytelling is an art, but my engagement in autoethnography over the past years has enhanced my ability to witness another’s story. Storytelling and witnessing stories foster a deeper understanding of diverse cultural backgrounds and have sparked compassionate dialogue and inquiry among adult learners, fellow faculty, and myself. Not all conversations are positive, but reflexivity, shared empathy, and compassion enrich perspectives and understanding.

James

Transitioning from human resources to teaching at an HBCU, I quickly realized that students sought real-world applications in their learning. One of my first interactions with a student was particularly telling: they said, “I know you are new to the university, but I want you to mentor me through my program and professional experience.” When I asked why, they replied, “We’re both Black men, and you’ve been where I want to go.” This interaction reinforced the importance of visible representation and opened the door to a mentoring relationship grounded in trust and shared identity.

That moment affirmed my commitment to a mentoring approach rooted in self-determination and self-efficacy. My role as mentor extends beyond academics—it supports students’ professional and personal development, especially for those navigating systems where they often feel unseen. I intentionally draw on our shared experiences to help students envision possibilities and pursue their goals with confidence.

My background in HR has deeply influenced how I teach. I break down complex ideas using practical examples and culturally relevant stories that connect with students’ aspirations. This approach reflects adult learning theory by engaging learners through their lived experiences and allowing quick assessment of their mastery. I also integrate this philosophy into bi-weekly cohort meetings, where students at various stages, from newcomers to those in the dissertation phase, come together to share stories and support one another. These sessions foster community, encourage inclusivity, and build connections that reflect the heart of culturally responsive education (Withorn et al., 2019).

Mentorship and advocacy are key pillars of my role, rooted in my HR background, where I fostered workplace development and offered supportive mentorship. Mentoring in higher education is essential for addressing social justice inequities, with mentors and mentees embodying persistence and resistance while navigating the interconnected personal, political, and professional dimensions of their experiences and shaping future generations of leaders committed to advocacy and equity (Miville, 2018). As a faculty member, mentoring students has been a transformative learning experience for both me and them, supporting their identity development through critical reflection, which can drive transformation in their personal growth and professional paths. (Johnson-Bailey & Alfred, 2006). I have extended this mentorship to guide students’ academic and personal growth, pairing new students with those further along in the program to promote peer mentorship and build a supportive network that reinforces self-identity and professional resilience. This commitment to advocacy reflects the HBCU’s mission of fostering community, resilience, and excellence through a culturally sensitive lens. By valuing lived experiences and aligning my role with this mission, I bring a holistic perspective that bridges the structured approach of HR with the flexibility of academia, enriching students’ educational journeys. As a Black male scholar, I serve to connect industry and academic knowledge, fostering a generational wealth of wisdom and exemplifying a path for future scholars and leaders.

Adam

I use autoethnography to examine my role as a white faculty member at an HBCU, particularly in how I facilitate difficult conversations around race and power. A pivotal moment occurred after class, when a group of students asked, “How does it feel to be the only white person in class?” This unexpected question, prompted by earlier discussions of transformative learning, led to a powerful, reciprocal conversation. Through such moments, I’ve shifted from knowledge delivery to deeper engagement, centering student experience and rethinking facilitation in racially complex spaces (Boyd, 2008; Boylorn, 2013; Hoggan-Kloubert & Mabrey, 2022).

James

I draw on autoethnography to reflect on my work as a Black male educator and HR professional. My narrative intersects classroom experience with institutional inequities. Autoethnographic journaling and student feedback helped me respond to students who expressed feelings of isolation and academic uncertainty. These moments challenged me to move beyond traditional faculty roles toward intentional mentoring that acknowledges shared cultural realities and offers meaningful support.

Bryle

I use autoethnography to examine how my intersecting identities shape my work in HRD and education. My experiences navigating professional norms—modifying language, dress, or demeanor—inform how I support others negotiating the same tensions. Autoethnographic writing has helped me advocate for initiatives like employee resource groups (ERGs) by linking personal insights with institutional needs. These practices help create spaces of belonging in organizations where inclusion is often aspirational but underdeveloped (Grenier, 2015; Sisco et al., 2021).

Autoethnography, as a method, provides a rigorous and flexible framework for connecting individual narratives to systemic structures. It validates emotional, embodied, and relational knowledge in academic inquiry (Bochner & Ellis, 2016) and enables researchers to interrogate positionality, power, and privilege across educational and professional domains (Boylorn & Orbe, 2014; Chang, 2013). In contrast to traditional research approaches that separate subject and object, autoethnography embraces the subjectivity of the researcher as a source of insight and critique.

By using autoethnography, we were able to link our personal transformations to broader questions of equity, institutional culture, and justice. It allowed us not only to explore our own growth but also to make visible the cultural dynamics and power relations that shape adult education and HRD. In this way, autoethnography served as both a research tool and a reflective practice that invites others to do the same, especially in equity-focused institutions like HBCUs.

Adam

Conducting autoethnographic research within an HBCU setting has deepened my reflexivity as a white male educator, enhancing my understanding of how my identity influences interactions and perceptions. This critical examination fosters personal growth and improves my pedagogical approach, making it more inclusive and responsive to diverse student needs (Boyd, 2008; Foster, 2001). My continuous engagement with autoethnography, supported by insights from Ohito (2017) and Pelias (2018), demands high self-awareness and ethical consideration, ensuring the integrity of both research and teaching practices. Additionally, it enriches my understanding of the dynamics between culture, identity, and social justice, allowing me to integrate diverse cultural perspectives and facilitate authentic storytelling in the classroom (Ellis, 2004; Hollis, 2022). This approach promotes a reflective and inclusive learning environment aimed at educational equity and societal progress, compelling me to navigate the complexities of my role and actively address power dynamics to create an empathetic space where open dialogue enriches our collective educational experience.

James

Reflecting on my personal experiences has been integral to refining my educational and HRD practices. I’ve developed a routine of maintaining a professional journal, a practice encouraged by my therapist during the pandemic and initiated during my transition from HR to academia. This journaling provides a structured space to record and reflect on my thoughts, reactions, and growth, which informs my approach to teaching and mentorship. Additionally, I actively seek student feedback, not shying away from their assessments but using them as data to gauge the reception of my methods throughout the semester. This feedback, gathered through both structured and informal settings such as anonymous focus groups, allows me to evaluate and adjust how effectively I am meeting educational objectives. By employing a method of bracketing in my journal, I manage to keep personal reflections distinct from professional insights, enabling me to draw meaningful conclusions from my experiences while staying objective and grounded in my role as an educator.

Bryle

As an adult educator, I recognize the invaluable role of lived experiences in both learning and teaching. This dual exchange involves not only leveraging learners’ backgrounds but also sharing my own as a Black man with numerous cultural identifiers and rich lived experiences, which significantly enhances my HRD functions. In roles particularly focused on diversity, equity, and inclusion, acknowledging and integrating identity proves crucial, even in technical aspects of HRD. My approach centers on creating training and programming that resonate with adult learners’ needs across both formal educational settings and less formal workplace environments. My autoethnographic practice, where I critically assess and apply my experiences to aid others in their growth, has proven to be an asset. It allows employees to feel seen, heard, and connected to the material or curriculum being facilitated, fostering a supportive environment that aligns with ongoing workforce development needs. This method has not only been rewarding but has also positively impacted my professional interactions and the effectiveness of my educational strategies.

Adam

Engaging in this collaborative autoethnography has been both humbling and eye-opening. Dialogue with my co-authors and adult learners pushed me to critically examine my identity as a white male in an HBCU. This reflexive process revealed how privilege shapes my interactions, teaching, and engagement with others. Balancing honesty with academic rigor was challenging, especially in addressing my privilege and its impact. Sharing my narrative demanded vulnerability while navigating ethical considerations to avoid centering my perspective over others. Collaborative storytelling with my co-authors and adult learners provided invaluable feedback, enriching my reflection and making it more meaningful.

James

As a researcher, I was taught to detach from my emotions and focus solely on facts, leaving me to grapple with how much of myself to reveal and what might be too vulnerable. I initially struggled with the fear of oversharing, so I discussed my concerns with my co-authors. Through our open conversations and the sharing of our stories, I found that our narratives intersected and broadened my perspective. This collaborative process not only challenged my thinking but also underscored the importance of balancing personal reflection with academic rigor. Our collective reflection led to valuable insights that meaningfully shaped the study. Despite the difficulty in navigating how much vulnerability was appropriate, our collective reflection led to valuable insights that shaped the study in meaningful ways.

Bryle

As researchers, we are trained to find empirical support for our findings and experiences. In autoethnographic research, however, our personal views and lived experiences become the evidence we must analyze and find meaning within to connect with broader observations. This process demands a degree of transparency about our identities—both those I publicly celebrate and those silenced by sociocultural perceptions, including race, religion, sexual identity, socio-economic level, educational attainment, and family structure. These elements enhance my autoethnographic capabilities and, throughout this process, engaging with my colleagues has helped me find new value in reconciling and celebrating these identities, thereby enriching our educational and training efforts.