In educational development, publishing in peer-reviewed academic outlets operates as an often-unspoken expectation for advancing in our careers. We offer this collective reflection on our experience forming an academic writing group designed to challenge scholarly publishing as a component of the hidden curriculum in educational development.

As participants in the POD Academic Writing Scholars, we initially met in a space structured to help minoritized writers engage in scholarly writing. Academic writing groups have been shown to increase writing productivity and foster peer support and professional growth (Wentworth et al., 2024), particularly for minoritized scholars (Babcock et al., 2022; Murray & Kempenaar, 2018; O’Meara et al., 2017; Spencer, et al., 2022; SSFNRIG, 2017). We all identify as women with intersecting minoritized identities which affect how we navigate our roles in research-intensive universities that often center whiteness, maleness, and faculty-driven concepts of scholarly legitimacy. Our conversations together expanded beyond writing to the broader contexts of our work as educational developers. We realized that we shared experiences of navigating tacit expectations around scholarly publishing that assumed access to research and writing training and resources typically available to faculty.

Recognizing this shared challenge, we formed an academic writing collaborative that continued meeting monthly after the POD Academic Writing Scholars concluded. Beyond supporting one another’s writing, our group was also interested in examining this hidden curriculum and how it shaped our experiences and self-conceptions. To frame this reflection, we have included excerpts from a recorded discussion of how our group formed, operated, and the lessons we learned. We believe this reflection can catalyze dialogue about the hidden curriculum of educational development and offer insights into how writing groups can go beyond supporting productivity to help members redefine what constitutes scholarly writing in educational development.

The hidden curriculum, a term first coined by Jackson (1968) and later explored in higher education contexts (Margolis, 2001), refers to the unspoken expectations and norms that shape and create barriers to professional and academic success, particularly for minoritized people who are subject to systemic inequities. We identified scholarly publishing as one aspect of the hidden curriculum in educational development because it shapes how our work is valued and advancement opportunities while remaining largely absent from formal role descriptions or professional development pathways. As one group member succinctly noted, “It’s publishing. That’s the hidden curriculum. Publishing is the foundation. It’s interesting how that just isn’t a part of the conversation within our CTL” (Lawrence et al., 2025, 11:59). While publishing scholarly work is often an expectation, we were not explicitly encouraged to write. As another group member described, “None of us [educational developers] are encouraged to publish. For a long time, we weren’t allowed to, and now even though we are, the implicit understanding is that our other work always takes priority. But if you look at our unit leadership, most of them have published” (Lawrence et al., 2025, 15:04). As this anecdote illustrates, even within the same teaching centers, some educational developers (often those in leadership positions) manage to navigate this hidden curriculum while others cannot.

All group members reported surprise at colleagues’ publications and anxiety about overcoming barriers to their own scholarly writing. Barriers included limited encouragement from leaders, scarce mentorship or writing communities, and few feedback opportunities. Most significantly, there was a lack of clearly communicated expectations around scholarly publishing in our roles. These dynamics reflect the complex positionality of educational developers, who often occupy “third space” roles that blend faculty and staff responsibilities (Whitchurch, 2008). Educational developers are expected to possess deep pedagogical and institutional knowledge, yet their contributions are frequently undervalued due to the lack of a clearly defined professional identity within universities.

At the same time, the institutional significance of our work continues to grow. As Wright (2023) argued, teaching centers play an increasingly important role, not only in supporting teaching, but in generating knowledge and driving institutional change. By bridging research and practice, teaching centers help fulfill the missions of their universities, even as the educational developers’ roles may remain inconsistently defined. Our work is frequently framed as service rather than scholarship, which diminishes its intellectual value and leads institutions and colleagues to undervalue our contributions (O’Grady, 2024; Rudenga & Gravett, 2020; Sotto-Santiago, 2020). Without clearly defined role expectations, universities often fall back on and hold educational developers to models of success that prioritize scholarly publishing without providing adequate resources or support.

Our academic writing collaborative sought to create the support we did not find at our own institutions. Our group has never solely focused on writing productivity. We prioritize community, reflection, and care. As one group member described, “One of the superpowers of a group like ours that centers underrepresented folks within educational development is that a lot of us kind of get what building liberatory community spaces looks like. We’ve had practice in developing them” (Lawrence et al., 2025, 42:33). That shared knowledge shows up in how we listen to and support each other. The practices we cultivated were deliberately grounded in principles consistent with counterspaces, as articulated within Critical Race Theory (CRT).

The counterspaces framework (Case & Hunter, 2012; Tate & Michaux, 2023) reflects CRT’s commitment to social justice by illustrating how minoritized individuals create affirming spaces to challenge dominant structures and create collective empowerment (Caballero & Knupsky, 2019; Cropps, 2018; Murray & Kempenaar, 2018; Tate & Michaux, 2023; Yim et al., 2023). Case and Hunter (2012) argued that, in counterspaces, minoritized people can redefine dominant narratives that misrepresent them, engage in socially supportive acts consistent with their identities, and critique oppressive systems. By this characterization, our group also functions as a counterspace, creating an affirming environment that allowed us to challenge dominant notions of legitimate scholarly writing.

Our monthly meetings operate with rotating facilitators who plan flexible agendas that evolve to meet the needs and interests of group members. Members participate as they are able, with some connecting in pairs outside of group meetings to offer additional support and others stepping back when their capacity is limited. Meetings often include discussion, collaborative writing, feedback, or simply holding space to name and process professional challenges. Group members celebrate successes but also strive to normalize struggle and care as part of the writing process, engaging in narrative identity work that affirms us as writers.

Even within the supportive structure we have built, the group has encountered challenges. Finding time to meet is an ongoing struggle. We often prioritized other work tasks over our own scholarship, making it difficult to give our writing sustained attention. We worked to balance building community with supporting writing goals, dividing meetings to address both. Despite these challenges, our group remained committed to our shared goals and sustaining a supportive, low-pressure group dynamic. Compared to individualistic models of scholarship, our collaborative offers a counter-hegemonic alternative by centering community and belonging among educational developers (Kiesow et al., 2023), particularly members of minoritized groups.

Being in community has also helped us question the narratives we have internalized about scholarly writing and ourselves as writers. Through conversation, we came to see writing as a meaningful practice rather than just a deliverable. “I find a lot of what I get out of this group,” one member explained, “is less how much writing I do and more how I feel about the writing I do” (Lawrence et al., 2025, 12:50). We also began to value the spectrum of writing that we already produce. When we collectively tallied our written contributions from 2024, we determined that we had written 158 non-traditional academic texts, including scholarly website articles, blog posts, digital guides, podcasts, videos, written workshop materials, reports, and white papers, many not attributed to us by name. In comparison, we published nine peer-reviewed journal articles and book chapters. A group member described how her understanding of her own writing transformed, stating “What weird flips am I doing in my brain to be thinking I’m not a writer? I’m not an academic writer. I haven’t written anything in such a long time. I suck. You know that spiral thing. I’m like, ‘Wait a minute. I write things all of the time. Literally, I’m writing all the time’” (Lawrence et al., 2025, 17:07). Engaging with the group helped us recognize ourselves as writers and resist valuing publishing in peer-reviewed journals to the exclusion of other forms of writing.

Reflecting on our experiences has led us to consider how educational developers, teaching centers, and universities can change how we think about and conduct academic writing. We offer the following recommendations to surface this aspect of the hidden curriculum and help institutions and educational developers adopt more equitable and supportive practices.

Moving forward, the field of educational development must acknowledge, address, and further define components of the hidden curriculum of education development. New developers should understand that there are expectations around publishing unreflectively inherited from faculty publishing norms. Institutions should make expectations explicit and provide support. More ambitiously, institutions should work with educational developers to broaden definitions of scholarly writing, prioritizing visibility for the work of minoritized educational developers. Perceptions of productivity and what counts should be more inclusive of whose work and which work is valued.

However, educational developers need not wait for their institutions to formally sanction or support their writing. Instead, we encourage developers to take initiative by forming academic writing groups that create a space for mutual support and collective growth. These groups can begin informally, starting with a few trusted colleagues committed to showing up for one another. Groups can experiment with collaborative practices that promote sustained momentum and achieving group members’ goals. This can include establishing shared values, rotating facilitation, using co-writing or feedback circles, and conducting check-ins. As our experience illustrates, maintaining flexibility to adapt practices to the needs of the group is key for addressing challenges like limited time. We believe writing groups can serve as counterspaces that affirm the worth of our ideas and validate our identities as scholars and writers. As one member of our collaborative put it, “One of our values is that all writing-it counts” (Lawrence et al., 2025, 46:47). We hope that other educational developers will join us in reimagining what it means to be writers and finding a renewed sense of belonging.