Why You Shouldn’t Ask for Emergency Documentation

Dr. Gwen Rehrig
4 min readSep 17, 2020

Content warning: Because the topic is emergency documentation, I describe traumatic experiences and grief that can constitute personal emergencies. I also discuss current events taking place in 2020, many of which are also traumatic, in relation to emergency documentation.

On the topic of excusing students for missing class, assignments, etc., due to personal emergencies: Over the years I decided to never ask for details or documentation. Here’s why.

Photo showing the silhouette of a person sitting alone against a dark sky. It communicates a sense of sadness and isolation.
Photo by Asif Akbar from FreeImages

My position is informed in part by my own experience with family emergencies. During my 2nd year of grad school, my then-spouse was seriously injured in an accident. He was a hospital inpatient for over a year.

During that year (and beyond), I had to tell the very traumatizing story of his accident repeatedly to people who needed that information to help — doctors, lawyers, therapists, social workers, family members. Each telling, however necessary, was traumatic for me. I had to relive the worst day of my life, over and over. I came to resent people who didn’t need to know, but were merely curious, who asked me to regale them with the story of my trauma. No one’s curiosity is worth reliving that pain. I have since resolved never to ask anyone to tell me the story of their trauma.

As I write this, the world remains beset by the COVID-19 pandemic, and on top of that, much of the planet is battling wildfires. There is state-sanctioned and vigilante violence taking place against protesters in the United States, and the government has been openly hostile toward international students. Students deserve our compassion at all times, they deserved kindness before March of 2020, and — as cliche as it may sound — they really do need kindness now more than ever. Sadly, I’ve seen cruel policies about emergency documentation requirements not only persist, but become more punitive since the pandemic started. If you can’t empathize with your students now, then when can you? What will it take? And if you can’t answer the latter question, should you be teaching?

It’s possible that your students could make up an emergency to get out of doing the work. They could even fabricate documentation if they really wanted to. Ask yourself, how far are you willing to go on your crusade? Is the documentation, once you have it, enough? Are you going to hire an investigator to verify the validity of the documentation? And to what end — to prove your trust issues are founded?

More importantly, consider what you’re asking of students who aren’t lying. Do you think your class is so important that students who are suffering should re-traumatize themselves in exchange for another chance to do the work? Perhaps if you have not been traumatized, or made to perform your trauma to earn leniency, you are unable to appreciate the gravity of what you’re asking students to do. I don’t wish traumatic experiences on anyone. If you have been fortunate enough to be spared traumatic experiences thus far, then please take it from me: traumatizing your students is not worth it.

If a student lies to get out of a responsibility, that says something about their character. If you assume all students lie, and interrogate them about family emergencies, crises, or other reasons they give when requesting an extension, that says something about your character.

Screenshot of the relevant tumblr post. Medium doesn’t allow enough alt text describe, link to text is in the caption.
Originally seen as a post on tumblr.com.

My graduate school experience wasn’t perfect, don’t get me wrong, but my PhD advisor and department were absolutely stellar about my family emergency. I only had to tell a few faculty members and the department chair what happened. Nobody asked for documentation, not when my then-spouse was hospitalized, and not when my mother died a few years later. I could have provided documentation, of course — it was offered to me — but my program spared me the bureaucratic rigmarole. I am grateful for the kindness and empathy my program extended to me when I needed it most. All students deserve to be treated with the same empathy I received.

It’s a small kindness to someone experiencing grief or trauma to simply not ask for more information than you need. Your curiosity and your trust issues are no reason to re-traumatize someone. Just let it go.

Note: This post was adapted from a Twitter thread that I wrote in 2019.

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Dr. Gwen Rehrig

Postdoctoral researcher studying language and vision at UC Davis. Opinions expressed are mine, not my employer’s.