For many students, she says, it’s a first chance to reevaluate a museum space as “a place they’d go for pleasure and not just for duty.”

“I think these preceptorials are important, and one of the gorgeous things is it’s a very eccentric program,” Kuttner says. “It’s literally what faculty [and others] come up with. Maybe it happens once and never again, or maybe it comes back around … and then they have the chance to spend some time with a professor who is convinced they are a worthwhile and interesting person.”

It is, she says, a space for students to be curious, to ask questions, and—for faculty—an opportunity to create an idea-generating jump-off point. “I think ideally that’s what a preceptorial also does,” she says.

Malik Muhammad, meanwhile, is director of inclusion initiatives and social justice education at University Life and uses his preceptorial as a welcoming space to talk about belonging. We Belong: Fostering Authenticity at Penn and Beyond will be a 75-minute facilitated discussion for students who want to learn more about how to be their authentic selves on campus. They’ll also learn about Penn’s many cultural resources that are available—including himself. 

“It’s all about embracing the full essence of who you are in a tough campus culture like Penn, being able to be your authentic self,” says Malik. “We’ll be talking about barriers to authenticity, opportunities around authenticity, sharing campus resources that are supporting various identities, and then also creating that level of confidence folks can have as they navigate their first-year experience.”

Part of that effort, he says, is to “mitigate that essence of imposter syndrome” as students begin their time at Penn.   

Historically, says Jonathan Zimmerman, a professor of history of education in the Graduate School of Education, who referenced the work of Christopher Loss of Vanderbilt, preceptorials began as a larger effort in the 1920s to orient new students who were only just beginning to learn about what universities are. The boom decade meant that white men and some women, post-suffrage, were entering the university system in larger numbers. Because of this influx, universities realized the need to either acclimate students or risk losing them.  

“What does it mean to have a roommate? What’s my meal plan going to look like? What should I major in? All these things,” says Zimmerman. “And this is the beginning of what we call ‘student life,’ of the whole advising system, and yes, it’s the beginning of the creation of a mental health system.” 

Universities, he says, assumed a new responsibility of attending to students’ “well-being and psyches.” Much of universities’ administrative roles, including programs like New Student Orientation, have evolved from this seedling era.

For Ryly Ziese, a third-year at the Wharton School from Cookson, Oklahoma, this is important. Ziese, who is Cherokee Nation, is on the Natives at Penn board as treasurer and helped to organize the Powwow. “Yes, we are Natives at Penn,” she says, “but it’s important to ask the people whose land we are on.”

Through her involvement, Ziese was able to meet people from different tribes. “Coming to Penn, I had very set mind of what a Native person was, just because I grew up around the same type of people,” she says. 

“It’s been very eye-opening,” Ziese says. “I’ve enjoyed learning about all the different cultures that either blend with mine, or maybe sometimes contradict what we believe.”

“Our goal is really to support Native, Indigenous, and First Nations students,” De Cruz says. “We center students in exploring what it is they want to do on campus, in terms of building their leadership, raising awareness, and increasing understanding of Native traditions.”