1. Introduction

[1] We met Michael Greer in 2014 at the Conference on College Composition and Communication (4Cs). We were hanging out with Heidi Harris at the Book Depot and she introduced us to Michael. Shortly after meeting him, when we were building The Online Writing Instruction Community resources website (www.owicommunity.org) and the PARS (personal, accessible, responsive, strategic) framework in 2015, we sought feedback from Michael frequently. He had so much prior experience in publishing, academia, and life and was happy to be our mentor and friend. From the beginning, Michael was optimistic and a true cheerleader, telling us how great our ideas were and how we were gonna make an impact in the writing studies field. He gave us insight into how to navigate academic spaces that were not as inclusive as advertised and the importance of inviting people into conversations rather than excluding others. He was supportive, kind, generous, and interested in our work as scholars and as friends. He was a good human who took an interest in our work and wanted to help by amplifying our efforts—by cheering us on! Sadly, in 2023, Michael lost his battle with cancer and passed away; however, his legacy and his impact remain strong today.

2. Gatekeeping

[2] In contrast to Michael’s approach of mentorship and cheerleading, within academia there are also gatekeepers and unfortunately; at some point, all academics will face gatekeeping by someone on their journey in joining the field. Habibie and Hultgren (2022) note that gatekeeping can be viewed as part of the academic process that filters work through intellectual process and procedure via a “knowledge construction and dissemination mechanism” where the work can then be agreed upon “by idealistically impartial expert compeers” in the field (9). But it is not always impartial and it can be used to curb new ideas and new perspectives and also as a barrier to keep emerging scholars at bay— to keep them in check. Unfortunately, this particularly impacts scholars who are already marginalized on the basis of race, gender, educational upbringing, and many other factors.

[3] Gatekeeping seems to be a sort of initiation by some academics, a way to haze younger emerging scholars, but it is always toxic and always inappropriate. Gatekeeping is unfortunately sometimes the result of being normalized. Once people experience gatekeeping personally, it becomes likely they will try to gate keep others in the future. Gatekeepers are not cheerleaders. In the most general sense the term gatekeeping refers to when academics in positions of power attempt to control access or prevent junior scholars from entering the field with their research. Some gatekeepers will downplay others' research saying it “doesn’t count” or they will tell up and coming scholars that they don’t have “it” and will not amount to anything in the field. Many gatekeepers’ actions come from feeling threatened.

[4] According to Ahern (2014), there are two types of gatekeepers:

1. Formal gatekeepers are people with the official power to give or withhold permission to undertake research. These include internal review board (IRB)/ethics committee members, heads of various agencies, and service providers who have the power to grant or withhold permission for you to conduct your research.
2. Informal gatekeepers are not in an official position where they can refuse a request to conduct research, but they are nonetheless able to hinder the progress of a research project (Wanat, 2008), (para 3-4). These can include peers who deliberately undermine your progress by influencing decisions or opinions behind the scenes, such as discouraging colleagues from supporting your research, your grant or PD requests. They may quietly sway departmental or attitudes in your field against your work.

[5] Stommel (2022) provides several examples of academic gatekeeping, including:

• telling someone their research “doesn’t count”
• excluding adjuncts/staff from professional development or funding
• drawing arbitrary disciplinary boundaries to exclude people
• reinforcing faculty/staff hierarchies
• blind peer review

[6] Gatekeeping can be small and petty or direct and obvious. From withholding funding to preventing scholars from sharing their work, gatekeeping can take many forms. It occurs frequently in academia as gatekeepers are part of the archaic structure of old colonial academia where scholars had to “stake” out their claims, their alleged fields of expertise, and no one could ever contribute to that space because it was theirs. In a sense, gatekeeping enforces discrimination and reiterates that young scholars are somehow “less than” their experienced counterparts.

[7] Anyone in the field of online writing/literacy instruction has likely experienced gatekeeping because many in the writing studies field still view the work of online writing instruction as “less than” its face-to-face counterpart. Those reading this piece will have likely experienced this “less than” feeling from colleagues or in a faculty meeting setting, or even from upper administration. Unfortunately, for years face-to-face instruction has been valued over online instruction. Some in the writing studies field have resisted teaching writing online because they view it as less valuable or not as effective as teaching writing face-to-face. Michael was part of the new version of academia. He was a cheerleader. He saw and experienced the value in digital learning and the scholars that wanted to do it and research it. He consistently supported scholars who were trying to navigate the ever-changing digitally mediated academic space. Scholars who were unsure of their role, their work, and where they were in the discussions surrounding topics they were passionate about.

3. Cheerleading + Mentoring

[8] As emerging scholars, we did not know many people in the field. We knew the big names, we knew their work, but we did not really know them. We had an idea of what we wanted to do and what we were passionate about, but as contingent faculty, we were trying to understand our role. Michael Greer was one of the first people to really help us with this, and he did more than just mentor us. He cheered us on!

[9] Cheerleaders are great. They build people up and help their confidence. They give people the extra nudge of confidence when they need it. In academia, cheerleaders often take on the form of mentor plus more. It is not just the formal “this is what you should do to advance your career”; it is the “you are kind of awesome at this, what can I do to help you?” For us, cheerleading is asking questions that can amplify lines of inquiry, that nudge scholars in directions toward expanding their knowledge.

[10] We have been fortunate to work with so many amazing cheerleaders over the years as we developed as educators and researchers. So many have mentored us and cheered us on when they did not have to, when it was not in their contract, when they had busy schedules, and even when they did not like golf! Johnson (2002) notes that the personality characteristics associated with being a good mentor are centered around intelligence, being caring, being flexible, being empathetic, and exhibiting patience, as well as having ethics, being somewhat well-adjusted, and being a well-known and respected scholar or professional. Michael was all of these things for us and for so many others. He had a lot of knowledge and experience but was also very patient and empathetic. Even though he never finished his dissertation (he was ABD), he was respected by those he worked with in the writing studies field and also those throughout the publishing field.

[11] Carmel and Paul (2015) note that mentoring can be a cushion against challenges that employees feel in an organization, that it can encourage employees to feel appreciated and that the organization is investing in their future (p. 479). But where we think it plays a larger role, one that really helped us, especially given our positions when we were starting out in academia, is that mentoring can provide a “psychosocial assistance in the work space, which assists mentees to deal more effectively with role ambiguity . . . [and] role conflict” (p. 479). Mentors in the most basic sense are cheerleaders and they can be effective in helping you navigate as you develop, but they are also helpful in building your confidence that you do belong in the field. Michael was one that knew the challenges that budding academics face. He knew from personal experience that cheering on others was way more effective than tearing them down. Michael knew how to make people feel appreciated and provide the psychological assistance to aid people in flourishing.

4. Be a Cheerleader, Like Michael

[12] In fall of 2020, we pulled the OWI Community together for a large free online symposium to help people who were putting their classes online for the first time ever because of the COVID-19 pandemic. We held one in August and one in September. We had over 500 people register for the free events and when we thought of who could give a talk and share their knowledge with others who were struggling, we immediately thought of Michael. His talk, entitled, “Removing Barriers to Learning: Access, Design, and Application,” with Heidi Harris, gave him a chance to share his experiences as well as a space to speak openly about the stroke he had recently suffered and why he returned so quickly to academia to share what he had learned. He noted how his stroke had given him a new perspective on his teaching and his life. He openly joked about his shortcomings, while creating humorous and vulnerable avatars that spoke for him so he could concentrate on the words. Two of these avatars that he created are in Image 1 below.

[13] For the September presentation, we had over 15 speakers share their stories and their work with scholars from around the world. One of the presenters, Dylan Retzinger, presented about identity in a creative way that was not the typical and usual conference presentation; it was more like phonetic jazz, like Jack Kerouac, Diane di Prima, or Bob Kaufman. After the presentation, Michael coolly noted for everyone to hear that we had our first “Spoken Word” ignite talk. He praised Dylan’s talk. He felt at ease amplifying others, that yes, what we had heard was different, but it was different in a way that made us think, together.

[14] Returning so soon, sharing his journey and using his story to educate others, embodied why we cared so much for him and why his vulnerability was a model for the rest of us to follow. Some of the big conferences in our field are “Here is what I did! Isn’t this great!” But Michael always projected a space for scholars to be more like “Here is what I did, what do you think?” He allowed for us, and others, to be vulnerable, and in doing so, supportive of one another.

5. Cheering Thoughts

[15] We were fortunate to know Michael Greer for nine years. He was a voice that cheered us on. A voice trying to undo gatekeepers. A voice amplifying the work of others and not just his own. He willingly shared his expertise, even as he was busy with so many other projects. Even when he was recovering from a serious medical event.

[16] We all have the opportunity to choose if we want to be a gatekeeper or a cheerleader. And while our field may be okay with and even encourage gatekeeping, we encourage each of you to learn from Michael’s giving spirit and to cheer on those who are just beginning to develop their ideas, research, and place in the academic world. Just because “it’s always been like this . . . it’s just part of academia,” and just because you may have even experienced gatekeeping at one point, doesn’t mean it needs to continue to be like this. Changing our field-wide approach to gatekeeping and interacting with budding scholars can make an impact on equity and diversity in the field. You can make a difference. You can stand up against gatekeeping simply by being like Michael: a cheerleader, not a gatekeeper.