Wellness Resource Center

CC Bounces Back

Fear of failure, encountering hardship or facing a challenge, these are universal experiences. We worry we may not be able to cope or that asking for help will diminish other’s belief in us or our belief in ourselves. But we can’t always be perfect, we won’t always be able to do it on our own, and we may not recognize our strength and ability to bounce back when we falter.

We asked members of our campus community to share a story of an experience of failure or a challenge and how success, learning, or personal growth came through/after that failure. These stories along with data from the 2023 National College Health Assessment highlight and normalize common feelings and experiences of CC students and explore how students can recognize their internal resilience and skills to recover from challenges and combat grind culture.

This project is a collaboration between the Wellness Resource Center, Accessibility Resources and the Advising Hub.

Interested to submit your own story or learn more? CC Bounces Back Interest Form

"There is always something there to help"

"Finding internal self-worth"

"Adjusting to college is SO HARD"

“Bouncing back from hardship”

"Someone out there is rooting for you!"

“Leading a purposeful life”

“Adapting to changes”

"Learning with disability "

“Asking for help”

"Talking about the hard things"

"What do you get from working this hard?"

Manya Whitaker, Interim President

80% of CC students believe they lead a purposeful and meaningful life

In 11th grade, my parents found me fast asleep in the middle of my bedroom floor, surrounded by textbooks, paper, and notes. For me, it was par for the course, but for them, it was the first time they literally saw how hard I was working. They then asked me about school, if I was overwhelmed, stressed, etc. I don't remember what I answered, but I remember how I felt: like a failure.

I'd let my parents see a side of me I kept hidden. Worse, I made them worry, so much so that they immediately had me speak with a psychologist. One question into my therapy session and I burst into tears. I was overwhelmed; I was stressed. And I hadn't even known it because it was my norm.

"But why is it your norm? What do you get from working this hard?" she asked. It was a good question. I didn't feel prouder of myself when I got an A versus a B. I wasn't super excited to tell people I worked at McDonalds on the weekends, was a cheerleader, on the track team, in the IB program, or any of the other myriad things I did. shrug

This moment is likely why I became a developmental educational psychologist with expertise in adolescence. I was fascinated by my 15-year-old self. Why was I doing all of this? It wasn't familial pressure, peer pressure, or anything. And it wasn't about the outcome of straight As or college acceptance or a large friend group. It was about me. About knowing I did my best. About pushing myself to learn more, develop new skills, and explore the unknown. That was fun. That was exciting. That was rewarding.

So, I became an education professor. I wanted to push students to focus on the process rather than the product, especially during a time in their lives when social competition and academic achievement are huge pressures. I wanted to help future teachers create a classroom environment that promotes self-exploration, not external validation. I want people to discover what's fun for them, what makes them excited, what makes them proud, and what makes them happy. What, at the end of a day, determines it was a good day?

I'd found my purpose: to make sure others have what they need to find purpose and meaning. Whatever that is for them.

"Losing them felt like losing a part of myself"

Deka Spears: Assistant Director, Butler Center

71% of CC students say they tend to bounce back after illness, injury, or other hardships

The first half of 2017 was (at the time) one of the most exciting times of my life. I had been accepted into the only graduate program I applied to and was finally scheduled to have top surgery that summer after a year of working through that process. Tragically, just two weeks prior to starting my graduate assistantship and a few days after having top surgery, my grandma passed away. Slowly after that, my grandpa’s health began to decline, and he passed away just a few months later (I spent his last day alive with him and found him the morning after). I would lose two more grandparents during the spring semester.

My grandparents were more like a mom and dad to me than anything else, they raised me and encouraged me to pursue higher education. Losing them felt like losing a part of myself. Through the tragedy, I still excelled in school, using academics as a distraction. Underneath that, I was struggling with depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation and more. Eventually my mental health began to impact my graduate assistantship. I knew I wasn’t meeting my full potential and wasn’t receiving the best support through everything.

After my grandpa’s passing over fall break, I returned to work and unfortunately had to resign from my position. At that point, I was still struggling with my mental health and considered leaving my program because I didn’t think I’d ever be successful. I spent two months without an assistantship before one of my professors helped me find new work, which ended up being a research assistant in the department of education. On my first day my new supervisor called me into her office, and I distinctly remember her saying, “I heard about your experience at “x” and I want you to know I believe in your potential”.

I went on to excel in my program and as a research assistant, becoming the lead on several big projects, presenting research at large conferences, and having multiple publications under my belt. More importantly, my new supervisor gave me space to grow as a professional and held space for my grief. Over time I built back up my confidence, I started going to a grief group and built a stronger support system. I am most thankful to that supervisor for creating space and don’t think I would be as successful post-graduation without her leadership.

"How would I get us out of this situation? "

Maybellene Gamboa: Assistant Professor, Organismal Biology & Ecology

74% of CC students agree that they are able to adapt when changes occur

I depressed the gas pedal hoping that if I kept my foot down, then our tires would somehow find traction. Instead, I dug myself deeper into a muddy rut in the Manitou Experimental Forest. I was stuck. I didn’t have cell phone reception. We were isolated. I internally panicked while presenting a façade of confidence to my Ecology students. How would I get us out of this situation?

I was only in my second year of teaching at CC, and I still felt like I needed to prove to myself that I deserved to be here. In my head, as the professor for the course, it was solely my responsibility to find a solution. Maybellene

I circled the vehicle and looked at my surroundings. I spotted some miscellaneous pieces of wood by an uninhabited cabin nearby. I asked students to gather some of the wood to try to create a rampfor the tires, but something was still not working. One tire still wasn’t catching. The wheel spun uselessly while negative thoughts started to churn in my mind. I felt like a failure. How was I supposed to be trusted to lead field trips in the future?

I was too blinded by the belief that I alone had to find the solution to recognize that my students weren’t passive bystanders. Rather, they were actively gathering more wood to wedge underneath the problematic tire. Together, they formed a plan to rock the van forward and backward to generate the momentum to get the tire out of the mud and onto the makeshift ramp. It was so simple, and it worked!

We were able to get the van out in a relatively short amount of time when we came together as a community. Yet, it felt like an eternity in my head, because I was dwelling on the misconception that I had to do everything on my own. Self-reliance is beneficial, but no one exists as an island. I’m not sure if my students at the time knew how much the experience impacted me. I reflected on what happened that evening, and I realized I had been in a mental and emotional rut lately, stuck in a cycle of negative self-talk. I was trying desperately to find traction to get out of a depressive episode on my own, but I could only do so much. Shortly after, I started going back to therapy. Thanks to my students for helping me adapt to a challenging situation in more ways than one.

"I gave myself the permission to get the mental healthcare I deserved"

Zac Lounsbury: Assistant Director, Accessibility Resources

84% of Colorado College students would seek help from a mental health professional if they were having a personal problem that was really bothering them.

I had my first panic attack when I was 8. I was in New York City seeing The Rockettes perform when I remember the room caving in on me. I couldn’t breathe, began to cry, my vision blurred. My mom and an usher rushed me outside to catch my breath in the cold city air.

For the next twenty years, panic attacks became a regular part of my life. They hit out of the blue at school, driving to a friend’s house, having lunch on a warm spring day outside the cafeteria at college, on the subway, in the middle of the night. I became great at masking them and simply accepted that they were a part of who I was. Zac has panic attacks.

At 25, I was back in New York City training to become a teacher. One day I had to leave the classroom after nearly passing out from panic. My body swirled with nausea, cold sweat, and terror for 24 hours. I found myself standing outside of an emergency room speaking with a crisis counselor wondering if it was time to get admitted.

I needed help. I had needed help for years. After recapping this close call with those I love, a decision was made to see a doctor and start treatment. It took around three weeks for my plan to start having positive impacts. Three weeks of treatment to address twenty years of panic. Though I still have the occasional intrusive thought and my legs bounce up and down nonstop, I haven’t had a panic attack in 6 years.

The only thing that changed after I gave myself permission to get the mental healthcare that I deserved was that I no longer had panic attacks. Not a single one. I was still the same Zac, nothing changed, except that this Zac no longer had panic attacks.

I only wish that I had known and believed two things sooner: that sharing my mental health concerns with those I love would be met with such kindness, generosity, and willingness to help; and that there are thoughtful, caring, affordable, and motivated mental health providers who are truly committed to finding solutions.

"I truly believed I could be a symbol of beauty. "

Perilla Wang: Student

71% of CC students say they tend to bounce back after illness, injury, or other hardships

For a long time, I saw myself as a strange child, judged by my appearance. Boys wrote words like “pig” on my back; I have a lot of nicknames, like "Titan."The people close to me learned that I was laughed at by other students, and just said lightly: "If you don't look like this, why do they laugh at you?" All these silenced me. I was hiding behind my figurative raincoat like Chekhov’s Belikov. To look slimmer during basketball practice in a sweltering gym, I wore leggings under my shorts. I also tried dieting, but it ended up making me sick.

My early life was about seeking approval. When someone praised my artwork, I immersed myself in art history, visiting museums to earn more recognition. “The Two Fridas” by Frida Kahlo inspired me. Despite the darker-skinned, fuller figure of one of the Fridas, her confident beauty radiated through time. I realized I could also be a symbol of beauty, beyond cultural standards. Perilla Wange

My art teacher encouraged me to volunteer, teaching drawing to local students. There, I met a thin boy with sparkling eyes, whose wrist bore shocking scars from bullying. His story reminded me of my own past, and I knew I had to act. I created a club to combat verbal bullying and raise awareness. The club aims to encourage bystanders to stand up and intervene when witnessing bullying in schools, empowering them to act and stop the bullying. I designed a computer game where players decide whether to intervene when witnessing bullying. Writing the script was emotionally difficult, but I kept going, motivated by the thought of helping others. As more people joined, the club grew stronger.

My project gained recognition and led to an invitation to the Global Finals in Boston. While preparing, I visited a clothing store and realized that beautiful dresses existed for every body type. I chose a knee-length blue-and-white dress, and when strangers admired it, I felt a shift in my confidence. I truly believed I could be a symbol of beauty.

On the day of the presentation, sunlight streamed into the auditorium as I shared my story. At the end of the presentation, an audience member came up to thank me for my story. As he turned to leave, he added, “Nice dress”

“I know it,” I replied and smiled confidently.

"Resiliency is hard. It’s hard when you’re in the middle of the ick."

Gretchen Wardell: Student Success Specialist, Pre-Law Advising

89% of CC students have a strong support network.

Suicidal friends. Serious illness. Caretaking. Death. Addicted partners. Divorce. In no particular order, these experiences have shaped who I am today. Grief is never too far from me. This isn’t the life I chose, but it’s the life I have. Gretchen

I was 16 when I had to face my first major experience with grief. My high school boyfriend had just committed suicide. I was devastated. And yet, I was the one comforting my friends. I was the one who listened, hugged, cried, and laughed with my friends. I wasn’t resentful at the time, but I was confused. And then I realized, this affected more than just me. Quite obviously, this action affected everyone. This shaped how I look at life today. Things happen to everyone and we are all tied together in this life through the good and the bad.

As life passed on, more situations arose that were lined with grief. I never hid from that, rather I talked about it. I’m open about my struggles which hopefully normalizes situations for those going through the same thing. I want to talk about the hard things. I want to offer comfort. I want to show people that they can grow with grief rather than work around it. Grief is uncomfortable but that uncomfortable is what makes you better. You can get through anything if you try.

Resiliency is hard. It’s hard when you’re in the middle of the ick. How does anyone get out of the icky situations? Positivity helps. Know that the good will happen. Tell yourself 3 things you’re grateful for every night. Those 3 things might be small but by making this a habit, you will find the great in every day. Even when grief is smacking you in the face, good happens. You have to believe that. You have to believe in yourself. You have to believe that you can learn from everything. You have to believe that things happen for a reason even if it feels like the end of the world.

"Bouncing 'back'. Or, learning through a garbage spine"

Dr. Jarred Wiehe: Associate Director of Student Success

74% of CC students agree that they are able to adapt when changes occur

It’s a truism of disability studies that to live in the world means to open yourself up to the real, everyday possibility of acquiring a disability. The temporary privilege of able-bodiedness is just that—temporary. It can always change. And that’s not an apocalyptic statement asking you to be scared of disability or fear losing able-bodiedness. It’s an invitation to destigmatize disability and even value disability as a new method of making knowledge and understanding the world. Jared

During the last semester of my Ph.D. program, my spine gave out, and four discs threatened to sever the nerves to the lower half of my body completely--coming within millimeters of paralyzing me from the waist down. Turns out I have a congenital spinal deformity that makes my spine store compression in a scary way. (Shocker, they didn’t run tests for kids’ garbage spines in dirt rural Georgia in the 90s).

That semester, I finished my dissertation by putting my newly disabled body in new positions. I wrote on my back on my couch. I graded on the floor on a yoga mat flat on my stomach like an infant during “tummy time.” I advocated for the department getting me a standing desk. I bedazzled my back brace to still be a fashion icon on campus. When the chronic pain flared up, I rested. And I got my Ph.D.

So, here’s what disability taught me: slow down; listen to your body’s needs; adapt to find it comfort; and know through your disability. By “know through,” I mean embracing the new ways of seeing and feeling the world that disability opens up. For instance, I was able to share some new research at the Modern Language Association (MLA) in 2023 on crip-queer critique, playable crip epistemologies, and Hideo Kojima’s game, Death Stranding (2019). I came to the insights in that paper because I felt Kojima’s videogame differently. I can’t sit a lot, so being conscientious of my core muscles and pain levels while balancing on an exercise ball and loading up Norman Reedus’ virtual body with an ungodly amount of cargo while he grunts made me go, “Oh, wait, I think this game knows something cool about disability, extractive productivity, radical interdependence, and late-stage capitalism…” I know something new because of my disability.

As you and your CC peers bounce back after illness, injury, or other hardships, take seriously the new things you’ll learn and make use of them in your intellectual pursuits at CC. Exciting, new lines of inquiry will open up as you make knowledge through your illness, injury, or disability.

"It’s easy to convince yourself that you’re the only one struggling. But the truth is, everyone has their moments"

Ella Shuchard: Student

89% of CC students have a strong support network

I came into my freshman year of college fully expecting it to be one of the best years of my life.
I imagined spontaneous adventures every weekend and just the right amount of academic
challenge to keep things interesting. What I didn’t anticipate was feeling completely alone at
times and questioning whether I was even cut out for this. Freshman year wasn’t just difficult, it
completely upended my sense of self.

I had always found comfort in academic validation throughout high school: if nothing else, I
could always rely on my teachers to boost my ego and my GPA to make me feel like I had
things under control. But when my personal life and things back at home started to unravel, so
did my ability to focus. My mental health plummeted, and I felt stuck in one of the darkest places
of my life. To make matters worse, it seemed like everyone around me was thriving, effortlessly
making friends and adjusting to college like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, I was contemplating
whether I could survive off microwave popcorn because the idea of walking into Rasty’s alone
felt unbearable.

The turning point came when I realized that I didn’t have to go through it alone. There were
people who wanted to help me. I reached out to the health center and started using my free
therapy sessions. Eventually, I got connected with a local therapist who was only a 15 minute
walk from campus. She truly helped me work through everything I was feeling. And as I slowly
started to process things, I found myself opening up to people around me. I built real
friendships, ones that made me feel supported and understood. I finally found my community.

Fast forward to now: I’m doing so much better. Somehow, I’ve gone from feeling completely and
utterly lost to being a co-head of the Llamapalooza Music Festival, a co-chair for the Bridge
Scholars Program, and deeply involved in campus life. I won’t lie to you, college is still nothing
like a coming-of-age movie. Between being a STEM major and five on-campus jobs, free time is
definitely a foreign concept. But I’ve realized that joy doesn’t have to come in grand, cinematic
moments. It’s in the small things, and there’s always time for friendship and late-night laughs.

If I could go back and talk to my freshman-year self, I’d tell her this: it gets better. As cliche as it
sounds, it really does. Even when it feels like everything is falling apart, there is always a way
through. Adjusting to college is SO HARD, and it’s easy to convince yourself that you’re the only
one struggling. But the truth is, everyone has their moments, some people are just better at
hiding it. Finding your place takes time, and that’s okay. Keep going. I promise, you’re stronger
than you think.

"There is someone out there, even if you don’t know it, who is rooting for you, just as you are. "

Emily Bennett: Student

89% of CC students have a strong support network

Everyone told me that Orgo was going to be hard. Boy, were they right! Orgo 1 was difficult- but Orgo 2 seemed impossible. I knew how much mindset played a role in how hard I was going to work for a class, so I was determined to enjoy it. First week finished and it was time for Exam 1. I felt prepared, I had done all I could do. I got my test back, handed to me taco style so no one could peek…my heart fell to the floor. The number- 66.67% was blazed into the back of my eyelids. The lowest score I’ve ever had on a test, which I realize is not a universal experience- but failure in some way is. My stomach churned and I could only cry.

I was crushed. I didn’t know what else to do. I dried my tears as best I could and called my mom- my anchor, pulling me back in when I have spiraled out, putting things into words that I didn’t even know I was feeling, showing me unconditional love and putting life into perspective. She talked with me and prayed with me, telling me that it was going to be okay. I felt more at peace, but not 100%.

When I got the inevitable email from my professor asking to discuss my exam, I was disappointed in myself. I felt I should have done better. But she helped me realize that this score meant I knew two thirds of the content. She also had a tissue box ready. My lab professor helped me realize that not everyone gets everything correct on their first try. Fast forward to a few weeks later, as I was studying in the library, my friends made me a care package- complete with C store snacks, squishies, and encouraging notes- that brought me to tears. I felt like my effort hadn’t helped me much with scores, but they showed me that it didn’t matter to them! The next week, 4th Tuesday, was my birthday. My friends threw me a surprise party in the library before class and brought coffee cake to celebrate. I again was at a loss for words and only could thank them so very much.

I felt loved despite not being able to give much love to myself.

Then the final came. I vividly remember waking up and the sun not being up, but the sky was light. I groaned. I got ready, made coffee, prayed, opened my computer and was intent on studying before class. However, I was simply frozen in fear. I called my mom, literally bawling. She asked me what I was afraid of, after all it was just a test, and I thought for a moment and said, quietly, “failing”. She asked, “what happens if you fail this class?” Honestly, I got a little offended because in my mind, that simply wasn’t an option. No kids raised in the HGT (Highly Gifted) program could fail a class- it didn’t matter how hard it was. I said, “Well, I guess I'll take it again” right there, part of me sighed in relief. This wasn’t actually the end of the world like my brain was telling me. Feeling slightly more collected, I walked over to class… my heart pounded, my eyes welled with tears, my muscles quivered, and I literally could not make it across the quad. I stopped by a tree, holding on and practiced square breathing as best I could. My mom was in my ear- talking to me, telling me that it was just a test, and I was going to be okay. As the clock ticked closer to nine, I knew I had to make myself get into class. My mom promised that it was going to be okay and that everyone would still love me no matter what happened on this test. I thanked her, marched over to class, bright red eyes and cheeks and all.

Orgo 2 still stands to be the hardest class I’ve ever taken, but without people around me cheering me on I would have never finished it. It is thanks to everyone- friends, family, God, professors, classmates- around me who pushed me to keep going when I felt I had nothing left to give. Don’t let yourself be bullied by yourself into feeling you must be alone. There is someone out there, even if you don’t know it, who is rooting for you, just as you are.

"Help may seem invisible sometimes, but it’s here, I promise."

Cassidy Craige: Student

89% of CC students have a strong support network

It’s okay to be nervous. Someone I met on the first day of college knows I get anxious taking tests and she texts me every morning before an exam telling me “you got this”.

It’s okay to be vulnerable. One of my best friends knew something was bothering me. She was right. She somehow always knows if there is something on my mind. We plopped ourselves on the couch with cups of ginger tea and she held space for me like nobody ever has done for me before.

It’s okay to ask for help. I lost a close friend my Junior year of high school. A co-worker (and now friend) wrote me a 3-page letter explaining how she is there for me in a way that she wished someone was there for her when she lived through the same thing. “Call me anytime, even if it is 3 am.”

It’s okay to be scared. The first class I took for my major sent me into a sea of overwhelm. I was still new to the block plan and thinking about EVERYTHING that had to get done in 3 ½ weeks was daunting. Every day after class, I called my mom and took a walk down my favorite street near campus. She helped me be present in the moment and she taught me that I can only take things one at a time, one day at a time.

It’s okay to have nerves. I worked over a winter season studying for my Adaptive Cognitive and Visual Impairment alpine ski exam. After work, my co-workers and I would have “silly rowdy study sessions” to lessen the intimidation of the daunting exam to come. We were all in it together. We quizzed each other with flashcards sitting on the floor of the locker room, gave each other mock teaching scenarios, and on the day of the exam, we all cheered each other on as we were handed our pins and certificates.

It’s okay to cry. The 4th Block of sophomore year was tough on levels I didn’t know existed. Let me paint the picture: I hit a deer driving back to school from Thanksgiving break, my bank accounts were hacked the next day, my email was leaked somewhere and I was now subscribed to 500 random spam lists, I was in a second car accident, and to top it all off, my class was downright kicking my butt. I felt so defeated and the “end” of it all seemed non-existent. Invisible, even. My roommates made sure I was fed, taking care of myself, and they gave me shoulders to cry on. My roommate’s mom even wrote me a letter expressing her love and support. They built up my resilience.

It’s okay to have your own path. Due to credits from high school, I am graduating from CC a year early. As excited as I am for the upcoming chapters in my life, it is really hard to think about leaving my friends who I began this journey with as freshman. It feels weird to be going separate ways. These people. The people I have known since the days in our freshman dorm. The people who became best friends. The people who played paddle pirates on our Priddy Trip. The people who I thought would be disappointed that I wasn’t going to close this chapter with them have been nothing but supportive of my decision.

Whether it be a tough class, a personal challenge, or just a really bumpy road, there is always someone there. There is always something there to help. It may seem invisible sometimes, but it’s here, I promise.

CC Bounces Back Social Norms Data

Each CC Bounces Back story is paired with a social norm statistic from the National College Health Assessment of CC students taken in 2023 to highlight and normalize common feelings and experiences

74% of CC students agree that they are able to adapt when changes occur

71% of CC students say they tend to bounce back after illness, injury, or other hardships

86% of CC students feel they are competent and capable in the activities that are important to them

80% of CC students believe they lead a purposeful and meaningful life

89% of CC students have a strong support network

84% of CC student would consider seeking help from a mental health professional if they were having a personal problem that was really bothering them.

Over the past five years, only 1.2% of CC students graduated with a 4.0 GPA.

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*National College Health Association (NCHA) III Spring 2023, (n=152)

Report an issue - Last updated: 03/11/2025