Source: Katie Hyson, WUFT
Debra Anderson agreed to a profile on one condition – it couldn’t be about her.
Anderson retired this summer after 22 years of working for the University of Florida’s International Center (after successfully demanding the dean turn her retirement party into a staff-wide appreciation instead).
I worked alongside her there for several years, in a different department.
Though she supervised nearly a dozen staff as director of International Student Services, she was the one to sleep on an office couch during hurricanes to assist students through the night. She sat with them in the hospital, at their judicial hearings and in jail. And when they sometimes arrived for check-in, suitcases in hand and still no idea where they would stay that night, she invited them home with her.
Anderson was always power-walking the hallways with a student, and I was struck by the glow on their faces, the shine of being seen in a system that can reduce you to your documents. Every year, Anderson made more than 6,000 people feel like individuals.
At her house last month, she stood small inside the doorway, offered me socks to wear inside and an assortment of tea from her students. I soon realized we were surrounded by gifts. Her house is a museum of gratitude.
As she pointed to each knickknack and creation, she talked about the person who gave it to her. This quilt was knit by a staff member. This ornament is from a custodian who worked in her building. Hundreds of items from international students. She dreamed of one day donating the art to hang in a support center for international students.
She told me their first name, where they were from, what they studied, and all the things people might not know about them – hidden talents, inside jokes, what made each person special.
“These kids have stories!” she said, eyes bright behind oversized glasses.
To read the full article, visit the WUFT website