In higher education, we often talk about communication problems as if they were logistical — a matter of timing, technology, or templates. But what if the problem in higher education isn’t that we don’t communicate enough, but that we’ve forgotten how to talk in ways that actually lead to change?

Reviewed by Megan Comstock, student success navigator and financial aid liaison at Walla Walla Community College – Clarkston Campus.

In "Communicate for Change: Revitalizing Conversations for Higher Education," authors Lori Carrell and Robert Zemsky show that communication is far more than a process; it’s the practice of belonging. Written in 2021, in the wake of the pandemic, the book captures higher education at a moment of reckoning, when connection and trust felt fragile and many institutions mistook messaging for meaning.

The authors argue that our credibility now depends not on better marketing, but on better conversation: honest, sustained, and human. This message feels especially timely in a moment when misalignment, staff reductions, and siloed decisions can deepen confusion for students, administrators, staff, and faculty.

Carrell, a communication scholar, and Zemsky, a higher education reformer, bring decades of experience to this question: How can colleges reclaim communication as the heart of learning and leadership? Their combined perspective bridges theory and practice, reminding us that how we communicate shapes not just understanding, but trust. They also invite contributors from across higher education — including students — whose varied perspectives lend the book authenticity. The inclusion of frontline voices reinforces one of the book’s quiet truths: communication lands differently depending on who speaks and whether the audience feels understood.

One of the book’s most resonant ideas is its challenge to examine what we mean when we say community: Who exactly are we talking about? Who is included, and who might be left out?

As someone who works to connect students and colleagues, those questions struck me as especially important. “Community” is central to our mission, yet its meaning shifts depending on whether we’re talking about campus culture, student engagement, or collaboration. The authors remind us that authentic community requires more than warm intentions; it demands intentional communication that clarifies who we are, who we serve, and how we work together. Institutions often substitute activity for communication by cycling through committees and initiatives that create motion without alignment. This book calls out that pattern with refreshing honesty.

As I read, I drew a parallel between community and communication: two words we use so often they risk losing meaning. We say we value communication, yet real dialogue — the kind that requires curiosity and a willingness to change — is rare. Likewise, we claim commitment to community while resisting the shifts that would deepen it. The discomfort that Carrell and Zemsky surface isn’t only about how we talk to each other but also about our reluctance to let communication truly change us.

That reflection made me reconsider a belief I’ve held for years: that education’s role is to help students grow and rise. I still believe that, but this book reminded me that before we can raise our expectations, we must understand who our students are and how their lived experiences shape their capacity to learn and persist. Meeting students where they are doesn’t mean leaving them there; it means walking beside them long enough to help them see they can go further. More than a technique, the book reshaped my posture as a communicator toward alignment, clarity, and purpose.

In a chapter titled The Slogans That Ensnare Us, the authors describe how higher education’s language of aspiration can sometimes obscure its inaction. Mission statements and vision documents matter, but only if our decisions reflect them. The authors’ warning that institutions can grow “indifferent to whether words are meaningful or meaningless” resonated deeply with me. It’s not enough to believe in equity or student success; those values have to show up in how we communicate, day to day.

For financial aid and student services professionals, "Communicate for Change" feels especially relevant. Much of our communication takes the form of directives and deadlines, which are necessary but impersonal. This book challenges us to see every message as an opportunity to build trust rather than compliance. When we simplify language, we don’t “dumb it down”; we make it accessible. Clarity and compassion are partners, not opposites.

If the book has a limitation, it’s that its vision can feel aspirational without offering a clear roadmap. But perhaps that’s intentional. "Communicate for Change" isn’t a how-to manual; it’s an invitation to notice our habits and begin again. It challenges us to communicate not to be heard, but to move people toward clarity, toward alignment, and toward equity.

If you’ve ever felt that your campus is talking more but connecting less, this book will speak to you. It made me want to listen differently — and to keep speaking as though true connection really does depend on it.

“Communicate for Change: Revitalizing Conversations for Higher Education” by Lori Carrell and Robert Zemsky, September 2021, Johns Hopkins University Press, pp. 176.

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Megan Comstock is a student success navigator and financial aid liaison at Walla Walla Community College’s Clarkston campus, where she supports rural and underserved students through holistic advising, financial aid outreach, and workforce pathway navigation. With more than two decades of experience in higher education across advising and financial aid, she specializes in equitable access, student persistence, and systems-informed student support. Megan holds a master’s degree in academic advising and is committed to advancing student-centered practices that strengthen access, belonging, and completion for community college students.

Publication Date: 6/2/2026