Jennifer Cowley, Ph.D.
If you work in higher education, you’ve probably been in a meeting just like this:
Someone shares a new big idea around civic engagement—a partnership with a local nonprofit, a pilot project with a city agency, a bold opportunity to engage beyond the classroom. Before the conversation can gain momentum, people list the reasons the idea might not work: time, capacity, cost, or the ever-reliable, “This may be hard to do.”
Higher ed is very good at identifying what the obstacles before us. We’re trained to assess complexity, to question, and to evaluate.
But when assessment becomes our starting point, we diminish what’s possible. Over time, I’ve learned that if we want to accomplish great things, we have to start with possibility thinking. So I try to ask instead: “How can we say yes?”
At the recent Campus Compact summit, I talked about this idea on a panel with colleagues from across the country. What struck me was how many of us share that same tension. Yes, we’re entrusted with managing challenges, but we are also called to advance possibility.
It doesn't mean yes without thought or guardrails. It means yes as a starting point. That shift sounds small, but in practice, it changes everything.
During the panel, I shared a powerful example of what this looks like in practice. Not long ago, a faculty member in our Department of Criminology and Criminal Justice attended a conference where our local police department shared updates on unsolved homicide cases. At the end of the presentation, an officer acknowledged they simply did not have the resources to revisit older cases with the time and attention they deserved.
There was no formal request for partnership, but our faculty member heard an opportunity. She asked herself, “How can we help, how can we say yes to this community need?” She had students with time, analytical training, and a desire to apply what they were learning. This was a chance to provide them with practical, hands-on experience while bringing the police department fresh analysis to cases that had sat untouched for years.
She approached the department and asked about allowing students to review cold cases as part of a structured course. The proposal required careful thought. The subject matter was sensitive. Coordination would require clarity and trust. Strong guardrails would need to be built. There were plenty of reasons to say no: liability questions, privacy concerns, and the challenges of working with sensitive investigative records.
But the starting question made all the difference.
The result was a cold case course developed in partnership with the police. Students applied criminology and forensic analysis to real cases under professional guidance. In the very first semester, student work contributed to solving a murder that had gone unresolved for decades.
A family received answers. Students experienced their education as linked to real civic responsibility. And a community saw a University willing to lean in.
All of this happened because the questions that followed from that first “yes” broadened what was possible. Instead of focusing on the obstacles, we asked ourselves: What expertise do we have that could meet this need? What safeguards are necessary? What supports are needed?
Saying yes responsibly often involves more work, not less, because it demands thoughtful design, relationship-building, and institutional alignment. That extra work pays off. Community partners begin to see the university as a collaborator. Faculty begin to see engagement not as extra labor, but as deeper learning. Students begin to understand how their education connects to the world they inhabit.
That connection matters now more than ever. Our students are navigating rapid change and increasingly complex civic environments. They need more than technical expertise. They need to know how to listen well, how to understand systems, how to work across differences, and how to contribute constructively to the world.
For those of us in leadership roles, that means ensuring risk isn’t quietly making our decisions for us. That's especially important because students are watching how we show up for our communities. They notice what we prioritize and the things we avoid.
When they see institutions lean into complexity thoughtfully, they learn that civic responsibility is less about certainty and more about commitment—the willingness to stay engaged, even when the work is complicated.
It starts in that room, in that meeting, in the split second in seeing possibility, of seeing a met need. That’s the space where leadership lives. What we choose in that pause makes all the difference.
Jennifer Cowley, Ph.D., brings a profound commitment to public service, academic excellence, and community engagement to her role as president of The University of Texas at Arlington, a position has held since 2022.
Under Dr. Cowley’s leadership, UTA has become just the 13th R1 research institution also recognized by Carnegie for community engagement, expanding access, and achieving successful postgraduate outcomes.
She is spearheading efforts to open the new UTA West regional campus in 2028 and is implementing a strategic plan—UTA 2030: Shared Dreams, Bright Future—rooted in academic and research excellence, student success, and strong partnerships across Texas. She is a national leader in enhancing academic programming to improve postgraduate outcomes, chairs the Coalition of Urban Serving Universities board, and serves on the boards of both Campus Compact and Presidents Forum.
Cowley is a fellow of the American Institute of Certified Planners and the National Academy of Public Administrators.