When Olivia Feldman approached the Collegiate Recovery Community table at the Sparticipation fair in the fall of 2021, she wasn’t sure what to expect.

Originally from West Bloomfield, Feldman had just arrived on Michigan State University’s campus to pursue a degree in psychology. In high school, she had attended treatment and, now entering college, she was navigating recovery alongside the new pressures of campus life. A student leader asked her name and offered to walk her to her first meeting. A few days later, Feldman walked through the door.

For many students in recovery, that first step — showing up — can be the hardest. MSU’s Collegiate Recovery Community, or CRC, was established in 2013 and supports students by providing a comprehensive network of services — including weekly peer-support meetings, sober social events and recovery housing — designed to bridge the gap between campus life and personal wellness.

At a university the size of MSU, where thousands of students may be struggling, the program represents a growing model for how universities can support recovery and student success.

“Vulnerability was something that scared me,” Feldman says. “But now, vulnerability is one of my greatest strengths.” Today, while completing a master’s in social work and earning a certificate in school social work for elementary education, she works to cultivate that same sense of openness as a CRC student leader, welcoming students who — like she once was — may be unsure of what comes next. “The power of CRC is that it’s mostly student- and peer-led,” she says. “There’s something truly powerful about students building community together.”

A network of support

For Feldman and her peers, that first meeting is just the beginning. Within the CRC sits the Spartans’ Organization for All Recovery, or SOAR, a registered student organization that offers additional social connection and volunteer work for both students in recovery and their allies.

The program is open not only to those in active recovery but also to those striving for it. Collegiate Recovery Community Coordinator Dawn Kepler puts it simply: “The opposite of addiction is community.”

“So many of our students have the motivation to change and, yet, they’re navigating a chronic disease,” Kepler says. “Being able to move forward without intervention can feel next to impossible.”

For students who might otherwise feel isolated, the CRC provides a sanctuary where they can pursue their education without compromising their health.

Data shows the need for such a program. Nationally, one in five college students meet the criteria for a substance use disorder, yet only 4% seek treatment. On a campus of more than 50,000 students, those statistics suggest as many as 10,000 Spartans could be struggling.

“If more people felt safe to be honest about their substance use and to share openly, it would encourage more people to get help,” Feldman says. “We’re seeing strides being made in reducing the stigma around mental health but with substance use, we still have a long way to go.”

Redefining “the college experience”

Parties, tailgates and nights out are some of the traditional highlights of the college social experience. But for students in recovery, these environments — where connection is often centered around alcohol or substances — can be minefields. “It’s tricky when those celebratory aspects are tied to drinking or substance use,” Feldman says.

While she has grown more comfortable navigating campus, she emphasizes the mental fatigue of constantly having to think ahead. “If I know there will be substances, it helps to have a friend who knows my situation and can leave with me if I need to,” she says. “It can be overwhelming . . . you eventually get used to it, though you shouldn’t have to.”

In response, CRC students intentionally create their own spaces, hosting substance-free events that run concurrently with major campus traditions. Sober tailgates, held in the heart of the action, allow students and allies to soak up the Spartan game-day energy without the presence of alcohol. These spaces serve more than just the recovery community; they are open to all students seeking a different kind of connection. “Nine out of 10 students support their peers at MSU who choose not to drink,” Kepler notes.

As Feldman puts it: “When you remove substances from these experiences, your connections become so much deeper.”

The CRC experience extends far beyond social gatherings. Building on the momentum of a student organization founded in 2013, the formal Collegiate Recovery Community was officially established in the fall of 2017 to provide a dedicated space for recovery on campus.

Consistently each week, intentional connection is built into students’ daily lives. Recovery meetings, held every Thursday, offer a space to check in with one another, reflect on shared challenges like academic pressure or burnout, and an opportunity to speak openly in a setting and with a community grounded in trust and accountability. Students sit in a circle, with the option to share or simply listen.

For nontraditional student Will Vaughn, who has since graduated, those meetings were a reminder that he wasn’t alone, and they helped him find friends to study with and realize opportunities he previously thought inaccessible. “Getting into recovery helped push me out of my comfort zone and do things I never thought I could. Maybe I could go back to school and follow that dream.”

That holistic support extends to an individual level. Each student works with CRC staff to develop a personalized recovery plan, meeting one-on-one with a coordinator to set goals and navigate potential obstacles. For Vaughn, having someone to check in with regularly helped him manage perfectionism and the constant pressure he felt trying to navigate his recovery full-time while also having a full-time school schedule. “I was here to be in recovery, but I was also here to get an education.” It was a goal that felt possible with the right structure and support in place.

“At Michigan State, well-being means supporting both physical and mental health, while fostering connection and belonging,” says Alexis Travis, assistant vice president/assistant provost for University Health and Wellbeing. “Our Collegiate Recovery Community is a powerful example of what happens when we intentionally build environments where students in recovery are fully supported, seen and empowered to thrive in all aspects of their lives.”

Outside of CRC meetings, connection is reinforced in quieter, but meaningful, ways. Wellness workshops on topics ranging from résumé building to yoga and meditation as well as service opportunities like volunteering at local food banks reflect a core principle of recovery: giving back. Beginning as elements of recovery, participating in these opportunities often begets something deeper: students taking on leadership roles or dedicating their future to serving others through counseling or social work.

For students who need additional structure, recovery housing offers a more immersive layer of support. Open to students in recovery as well as those seeking substance-free living, a shared environment within Mason Hall minimizes isolation while allowing individuals the autonomy to choose how they disclose their recovery. In this setting, removing triggers that might appear in traditional housing can be a matter of life and death.

“Having a sense of belonging and others to be accountable to, and peer support, can be one of the most effective tools in battling stigma and encouraging health-seeking behaviors,” Kepler says. A supportive space includes not only trust, but also accountability in the form of shared expectations. She adds, “If you don’t come to a meeting, for example, we might have someone follow up and check on you.”

This support extends to students experiencing a return to use. The CRC works to reduce the shame associated with these moments, helping students view a recurrence as they would any other chronic illness. “It’s a symptom of the disease; there’s no fault,” Kepler says. “It’s important to focus on getting them a higher level of care.”

To facilitate this, the CRC team works closely with the Office of Student Support and Accountability, or OSSA, to help students navigate the medical leave process if they choose to leave to seek treatment. They have also partnered with the Alumni Office to identify mentors within a student’s specific field of study, providing a professional bridge back to campus. Once a student returns, the CRC coordinates with the Resource Center for Persons with Disabilities to secure necessary academic accommodations. Together, these partnerships reinforce Kepler’s guiding principle: Recovery is not linear, and academic success and health are not mutually exclusive.

Different paths, same community

Throughout every semester, students arrive at the CRC from very different places in their recovery journeys and find a community that meets them where they are. Vaughn, now a social studies teacher, already had six years of sobriety when he transferred to Michigan State. Thirty years old when he arrived on campus, he was “already the old guy,” entrenched in his recovery journey. Even with that strong foundation, being on campus was a unique challenge.

Vaughn had to navigate the traditional college social scene from the outside. “Not being invited to parties was tough at first,” he says, “but I was really grateful to the CRC for making me feel like a part of the university.”

As a lifelong Spartan and sports fan, he valued having friends to go to games with and attend sober tailgates. “I was able to get the traditional Spartan experience on top of a great education. I don’t feel like I missed out on anything.” For Vaughn, the CRC meant having other people around to reach out to, a safe place to go, and a community that understood both the challenges and joys of recovery.

For Mahitha Gundlur, the CRC was a soft place to land in the early stages of her recovery. An information science major from South Lyon, Michigan, Gundlur also balances a passion for screenwriting and acting. Entering recovery in the summer of 2024, she was nervous about returning to campus, but finding the CRC and recovery housing made the transition “seamless.”

Gundlur soon found support socially and academically. Hearing other students share how they had communicated with professors gave her the confidence to be authentic about her own situation. “I found that you don’t have to go into too much detail, but my professors have been incredibly accommodating,” she says. “I’m able to embrace who I am and forge more meaningful bonds.”

That shift has extended beyond the classroom and into her creative work. Before recovery, Gundlur often struggled to complete projects; now, she has finished the first draft of a feature screenplay she hopes to submit to filmmaking labs. Recovery has also redefined her metrics for success.

“Before, success was always quantitative, like getting good grades or getting into a good school,” she says. “Now, success is a feeling I get when I listen to my body. Success is not one-size-fits-all; it’s a spectrum.”

She views her screenplay and her sobriety through the same lens of discipline. “I have to show up every day,” she says. “Both to myself and to the work.”

Full circle

The support systems within the CRC network create a space on campus rooted in truth. For Gundlur, that new reality meant finding a place of understanding that has become transformative. “Being a first-generation immigrant and entering recovery, there’s a piece of cultural guilt and added feelings of failure; people need to know that it’s not your fault, you’re not crazy, and you’re not isolated in that experience.”

That experience has also shaped her perspective on substance use disorders entirely. “Before I entered recovery, I had a picture of what I thought an addict looked like,” she says. “Addiction can affect anyone, no matter their demographic, lifestyle or background. It’s important to understand the humanistic aspect to it.”

Being in the CRC has also shaped the way Feldman thinks about recovery. “Being in the CRC changed my life,” she says. “Every single person who has come through this space has made an impact on me, and being able to listen and hold space for others is so profound.”

According to Vaughn, the support he received from CRC really bolstered the intense personal growth that came with his journey. “Learning to balance priorities, giving myself grace, focusing on self-care, that’s huge,” he says. “Seeing people live clean, laughing and getting through hard things, I realized fun isn’t chaos. It’s a connection and shared experiences. You’re not alone, and there’s a different world out there waiting.”

For Gundlur, Feldman, Vaughn and many other Spartans, the CRC is a space where the everyday pressures of college continue alongside the life-changing work of recovery. Classes, jobs and daily responsibilities don’t disappear; rather, within the community, each individual is met with support, honesty and peers who understand.

The seeds of the work might not always be clear; a student might attend an event or meeting and then seemingly disappear — only to return months or years later, after having left to attend treatment. Whatever the path their recovery takes, they are surrounded by a deep well of a community built by peers, for peers, where students navigate recovery, build connections and find ways to live more fully.

For those reading this story, Feldman offers a final piece of hope: “You have so much time ahead of you,” she says. “You’re told that you have to have it all figured out, but we’re still learning. I knew I wanted to help others, but I didn’t know what form that would take.”

Learn more about the Collegiate Recovery Community and its services.