The TA Tightrope: 

How to Lead, Connect, and Know When to Call for Backup

There’s a moment every Teaching Assistant knows well: A student lingers after class ends, or comes to office hours, and you can tell they’re waiting to talk to you about something that’s on their mind. Are they frustrated with their professor’s grading? Are they dealing with something personal that’s bleeding into their academic life? Maybe they just need someone to talk to, and you happen to be the most approachable person in their academic orbit. 

What do you do? 

If you’re anything like me, you smile, you listen, and then you quietly panic. 

I’ve worked in student-facing roles since my undergraduate days – first at the writing center, then as a teaching assistant, and now here at Georgetown, where I’ve continued my work as a TA into my first semester of graduate school. In all of those experiences, one tension has never fully gone away: the strange liminal in-between role of being a TA.

We’re not professors. We’re not exactly peers either, even if we’re only a few years older than the students we’re working with. We’re somewhere in the middle – expected to run discussion sections with authority, hold students accountable, and still be the approachable figure they feel comfortable coming to with their questions and issues. It’s a lot to hold at once. How should TAs manage the confusion that comes with working in the grey area between authority and peer?

For me, that tension translated into a quiet but persistent imposter syndrome. I felt like I wasn’t qualified enough to act with authority. But if I leaned too far into “relatable grad student,” I was worried that I wasn’t giving students the academic environment that they needed. Undeniably, for me this was also complicated by my female identity. I’d internalized the expectation that I should be warm and nurturing above all else – which made it even harder to figure out where the line was between caring and keeping some boundaries. 

What helped more than anything was talking to other TAs. 

When I opened up to them about how I was feeling, I realized that I was far from alone. Almost everyone I spoke with carried some version of the same stress: the somewhat blurred hierarchy, the assumptions about what students expected from us, and the uncertainty about what we were actually qualified to handle.

From those conversations, something useful emerged: you can be in charge and still be human. The two aren’t actually in conflict; they actually reinforce one another. What makes the difference is clarity — being honest with yourself and your students about what you can and can’t do.

For me, that clarity looks something like this:

  • I can offer grace on participation when a student is dealing with outside challenges and extenuating circumstances.
  • I can work one-on-one with students to improve their writing or their engagement with course material.
  • I can be a compassionate presence when someone is struggling.

But I’m not equipped to mediate a tense situation between a student and their professor. I’m not a counselor or therapist. I’m not a university administrator. And trying to be all of those things doesn’t just burn me out — it can actually do a disservice to students who need more specialized support than I’m able to give.

That’s where Georgetown’s Office of the Student Ombuds (OSO) comes in — and I wish I’d known about it sooner.

The OSO is an impartial, confidential resource designed specifically for the kinds of situations that fall outside a TA’s wheelhouse. If a student comes to you with something that feels too big, too interpersonal, or too charged for you to navigate alone, you can point them there. The office can help students work through:

  • Interpersonal conflicts with peers — roommate tensions, group project blow-ups, relationship dynamics that affect academic life
  • Concerns about perceived bias — whether from a professor, a TA (yes, even you), or within a course structure
  • Figuring out next steps — sometimes students just need help identifying what resources exist and what a realistic path forward looks like

An Ombuds doesn’t take sides or make decisions for students. Instead, they help students understand their options and find a constructive way forward — which is often exactly what someone needs when they’re overwhelmed and don’t know where to turn.

Knowing about the OSO has genuinely changed how I show up as a TA. Instead of feeling like I have to have all the answers — or worse, improvising in situations I’m not equipped for — I can be honest with a student and say: That sounds really difficult, and I want to make sure you get the right support. Have you heard of the Office of the Student Ombuds?

That’s not passing the buck. That’s good mentorship.

The TA role will always involve some degree of navigating grey areas. But the more clearly we understand what we can offer — and what resources exist beyond us — the better we can serve the students who need us most.

Georgetown’s Office of the Student Ombuds offers confidential, impartial, independent and informal support to all students. If you’re a TA looking to refer a student, or a student looking for guidance on a concern, you can learn more and make an appointment through the OSO’s website: studentombuds.georgetown.edu

This OmBlog was written by Maeve Cassetty, a Master’s candidate in the Conflict Resolution program at Georgetown University.