Asian Pacific Islander Desi American Heritage Month (APIDA) is observed in May.  We are celebrating early due to the semester coming to a close next month.

Cha Ron Sattler-LeBlanc, Senior Director Academic Success Center

27 years 6 months and 13 days (thanks, WorkDay!)

I am the Senior Director of the Academic Success Center, and we often work behind the scenes—and often alongside students—to help them succeed in the courses that shape their first years at RIT. Our work includes tutoring, Supplemental Instruction, math support courses, assessment and placement, and early academic interventions that help students build confidence and stay on track.

Much of my work focuses on building partnerships across campus so we can support students in more coordinated ways. That includes initiatives like the Belonging to Becoming Second-Year Task Force, new collaborations with College Physics, and the Campus Connect program. We’re working toward more data-informed approaches that help us reach students earlier and connect them with the right support at the right time.

And like many universities, we’re also trying to move a little beyond the “duct tape and dental floss” phase of our data systems so we can better understand how students engage with support and how those experiences contribute to their success.

My first role at RIT was in Residence Life, where I worked closely with Deaf students and the NTID community. That experience connected deeply with my own story. My mother, who immigrated from Korea, made the decision not to teach me her native language, Korean, because she believed it would help me succeed in the United States. Even so, I struggled with language throughout my early education—through speech therapy and questions of identity—growing up at the end of the Vietnam War.

Working with Deaf students helped me understand language and belonging in a new way. Many of the students I worked with had also grown up without a shared language with their parents. One of my first graduate students did not allow me to use an interpreter in our meetings and challenged me to learn American Sign Language. That was an extraordinary gift.

Through her generosity—as a queer, Deaf Korean-Canadian—she shared her language and culture with me in a way that shaped how I understood my own experiences with language, identity, and connection. It deepened my relationship with the Deaf community and with RIT/NTID and Rochester.

Language, culture, and belonging play such an important role in learning and confidence. Being part of an accessible community that recognizes that—and helping create the conditions where students can find their voice – ( and sometimes expressing that beautifully with their hands and bodies), their confidence, and their place—is what keeps me here. It’s also something I carry with me into my work on the Pittsford Town Board: the belief that communities are strongest when people feel they belong and are able to participate fully.

I began my undergraduate studies in music at DePaul University, where I unexpectedly discovered how much I loved working with students as a Resident Advisor. That experience led me to Iowa State University, where I worked in Residence Life while earning a degree in Industrial Relations. Although I briefly considered a career in private industry, it quickly became clear that higher education was where I found my calling.

My first role after Iowa State was at St. John Fisher College, where I worked with students in the Higher Education Opportunity Program. From there, I came to RIT to work in Residence Life, first in the apartments and later on the department’s leadership team. During that time, I began doctoral studies in Educational Leadership and Policy and later moved to the Center for Women and Gender.

Working with students there, particularly around issues of dating violence, deepened my understanding of how institutions can support students through complex challenges. My commitment to this work is also personal. During my senior year of college, my cousin and her daughter were killed by an ex-partner in a double murder-suicide. It took many years—and supporting students navigating similar experiences—to fully understand that tragedy as domestic gun violence, which ultimately mobilized me to become a community organizer in 2015.

Since 2016, I have been part of the Academic Success Center at RIT, where I support efforts that help students succeed in their early years through tutoring, Supplemental Instruction, math support courses, and coordinated academic support programs—work that helps students build confidence in their ability to learn and succeed.

Here’s a secret: use all the brains you can borrow.

College—and really this whole university—is practice for life. One of the most important things you’re learning here is how to work with others and build the kind of interdependence that helps people succeed in the real world. Learning isn’t meant to be easy. Strength at the gym is built  through resistance, not ease. The same is true for learning—it happens through struggle and persistence. But it also needs to be intentional. If something isn’t working, don’t keep struggling the same way.

Human brains are big because we are social beings. The more a species depends on social relationships, the bigger the brain. We learn through conversation, collaboration, and connection. There’s a lot of joy in that, too. Start building your learning community now—talk with classmates, tutors, and instructors. Ask people you admire about when they struggled and how they learned how to learn.

Students will find support across campus, and a great place to start is with your course and your instructors. One of the first ASL signs I learned was “TRY.” If a faculty member recommends a particular support—try it. Give it two or three chances before deciding if it’s not for you. (I follow the same rule when trying new foods.)

At RIT, many of our supports are peer-based because we know students often learn best from someone who is just a few steps ahead of them. The Academic Success Center offers tutoring and Supplemental Instruction led by trained peer educators. And one of the best ways to truly learn something is to explain it to someone else—so once you’ve conquered that challenge, consider coming back and working with us. We’ll even pay you to use that beautiful brain of yours.

The Tiger Autism Spectrum Support Group was born out of necessity. I was a new parent to two young boys on the spectrum. As a new stepmom to an eight- and ten-year-old—who had already been through a lot after losing their mom to cancer—I was learning quickly about the systems and supports families navigate.

Our family had relied heavily on the school system during their mother’s illness, and suddenly I found myself in the world of IEP meetings and services. Getting to meetings in Webster during the workday simply wasn’t going to happen. With a little creativity, we brought those conversations to campus over lunch and built a community here instead.

I often joke that autism is my “golf.” People used to golf to network—I know people from all kinds of backgrounds because we share experiences supporting family members with intellectual and developmental disabilities. Those connections have shaped my understanding of learning, resilience, and community.

This work has connected me with incredible colleagues and student communities at RIT, including the men of Pi Kappa Phi, where I serve as a faculty advisor and support their work with people with disabilities. My sons and that learning community have taught me a great deal about how people grow and how important belonging is to the learning process.

RIT, in many ways, prepared me for this chapter of my life. As a campus that values accessibility, innovation, and peer support, we have a unique opportunity to create communities where students with different ways of learning—and the people who care about them—can find connection and support.

I’ve been advising the Asian Culture Society (ACS) since its founding over 25 years ago. It started with a conversation in my office with Edward Chin—we realized there wasn’t a space like this on campus, and the following year he launched ACS and asked me to serve as advisor. Since then, I’ve watched it grow into a large, student-led organization with a strong campus presence.

What keeps me involved is the role ACS plays in identity and belonging. When I was in college, I was trying to understand where I fit—never fully accepted as White, not fully sure how to claim my Korean identity, somewhere in between. Our students are still navigating that same continuum, often across multiple identities, and ACS offers a space where that complexity is understood and valued.

Over time, ACS has built its own culture. Events like Maid Café and Night Market aren’t just programs, they’re expressions of community and identity. They create space for students to share culture in ways that are joyful and visible.

Growing up in the Midwest, I didn’t have access to Asian American communities. That’s why spaces like ACS matter. It’s a place where students can walk in, take off their shoes, and not have to explain themselves.

Having that kind of space doesn’t isolate—it strengthens. When you don’t have to hide parts of who you are, you have more capacity to connect with others. Reclaiming and celebrating identity is powerful. Culture lives in what we share—and ACS creates that space for connection, celebration, and belonging.

Asian Pacific Islander Desi American (APIDA) Heritage Month matters because it asks us to look at American history more fully—and more honestly. A lot of these stories aren’t widely told; you have to go looking for them. Even locally, in conversations with Pittsford’s town historian, we’re still uncovering the presence of some of our earliest residents from the Philippines.

The story of America includes innovation and opportunity, but it’s also built on extraction—of land, of labor, of people. When enslaved labor was no longer viable, Chinese labor was exploited. Laws were written to exclude, to divide, to keep communities from putting down roots. Looking at history across communities—like considering Black history through an Asian American lens—reveals patterns that are both hard and necessary to see.

For me, my role models are often Asian women, especially my mom. She was born in Korea during the Japanese occupation, took on raising her siblings at 14, immigrated to the U.S. in her 20s, and at 95 moved to Rochester, New York—and voted for her daughter, which I still think is incredible.

APIDA Heritage Month isn’t just about recognition. It’s about understanding, honoring resilience, and making space for stories that help all of us see this country—and each other—more clearly.

Vacation.

Mom and the Korean ladies sharing meals – they’d feast, then sit back, open their pants to let their bellies hang out and say, “I’m so full, I’m gonna die…” and then smoke cigarettes, (It was the 70’s) Lots of amazing Korean dishes and kimchis…yum.

A few of us in the ASC were nerding out over the book Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir a few years ago so we will see how the new movie holds up… Podcast 10% Happier with Dan Harris (IPMF).

I have a Chef de Cuisine Crush, The Kitchen at Brick City makes great salads, amazing international foods and Korean inspired fare…hence the crush.

“Most likely to go on to be in a symphony orchestra.” (oops).

I’m from the Chicagoland area: Deep dish spinach with mushrooms…

I’ve worked for Santa.

rit.edu/aes

2 Lomb Memorial Drive Rochester, NY 14623  

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