University of Utah

Dr. Sherra McMillan Watkins

Dr. Sherra Watkins blends academic, clinical and administrative expertise to lead an integrated vision of student wellness at the University of Utah. Her background in health education and rehabilitation counseling, combined with frontline experience in population health, has positioned her to drive lasting transformation in higher education. As a triple-licensed psychotherapist and seasoned educator, she understands the nuanced needs of student populations. Watkins has led behavioral health services, taught human relations and marriage and family therapy and restructured wellness systems in both U.S. and international settings. Her unique vantage point enables her to anticipate systemic challenges while championing sustainable, student-centered solutions.

In an interview with Education Insider, Sherra (McMillan) Watkins shared her perspective on reimagining student wellness in higher education, highlighting the importance of integrated systems and long-term support in addressing the evolving needs of diverse student populations.

What does a typical day look like for you and how would you describe your role?

I currently serve as the Associate Vice President for Student Health and Wellness at the University of Utah. My day is split into two major roles. First, I directly supervise departments including student health, disability services, counseling, campus wellness, recreation, financial wellness, basic needs and our newest program—spiritual wellness. Second, I support the directors and executive directors who lead those units, ensuring they have the tools and strategy to succeed.

Most days involve coordinating across services to ensure that care is integrated, accessible and aligned with university goals. This means managing program development, meeting with campus partners, reviewing policy and advocating for wellness resources. Having led many of these service areas in previous roles, I bring operational insight into each department’s needs, even in areas like recreation or financial wellness where my direct background is lighter.

My journey has been rooted in both prevention and clinical work. I hold two degrees in health education and two in rehabilitation counseling and administration, which has allowed me to serve as a licensed clinical mental health counselor, addiction specialist and rehabilitation counselor. Early in my career, I focused on prevention, working with underserved populations in eastern North Carolina, increasing cultural competency among first- and second-year medical students and teaching medical Spanish. From there, I moved into academic advising and public health education, teaching Health 1000 and guiding students through personal development.

My clinical path deepened when I joined a Ryan White Clinic, where I worked with HIV-positive patients in a one-stop population health model. This model integrated physical health, mental health and social services under one roof, a concept that has deeply influenced how I think about wellness infrastructure today.

“The blend of cultural, clinical and academic experience ultimately shaped the way I lead today—with empathy, systems thinking and a commitment to equity.”

Later, I led psychosocial services for patients with sickle cell disease and hemophilia, many of whom were co-diagnosed with HIV due to contaminated blood products. These patients, often minorities, were stigmatized and underserved, especially during the COVID and opioid pandemics. I saw firsthand how systemic barriers affect access and how burnout can result from carrying that burden without structural support.

After that, I worked overseas in St. Martin, where I led counseling and wellness services at an international medical school. I also taught future physicians about working with patients living with HIV and sickle cell. That blend of cultural, clinical and academic experience ultimately shaped the way I lead today—with empathy, systems thinking and a commitment to equity

What new trends have you observed in the last 18 to 24 months?

Two major shifts have transformed my role recently. The first involves changes in state-level legislation around diversity, equity and inclusion. These legislative shifts have forced many universities to reevaluate or even dismantle identity-based centers like the Women’s Resource Center or Black Cultural Center. Our wellness teams were deeply embedded in these spaces through coaches and therapists. When those partnerships were disrupted, we had to quickly reimagine how to provide support equitably.

The second trend is the growing number of students accessing disability services. Since I began in October 2022, we’ve seen a 15 to 20 percent increase in students registered with the Center for Disability and Access each year. Many of these students fall under the neurodiversity umbrella, dealing with anxiety, depression, or autism spectrum disorders.

The increase reflects something important: students feel safer disclosing and seeking help. But it also reveals how underprepared many college systems are. Most campuses are still structured around short-term support, while our students increasingly need long-term, wraparound services that help them thrive emotionally and socially.

What challenges are emerging from these trends?

The challenges are both systemic and practical. Higher education is not set up to provide lifelong care. Yet the students arriving now, especially post-COVID, require deeper, more sustained support. Many of them began receiving mental health services in elementary or middle school. They’re used to having a care team and continuity.

College health centers, however, often operate with a short-term intervention model. That gap is where students fall through. They may come in needing support, but when it’s time to transition out of care, they don’t have the scaffolding. Add in the fact that many are navigating services for the first time, without parents, guardians or prior experience and you’ve got a situation where both the system and the student are strained.

The reduction in DEI-based support services compounds this. When you remove culturally affirming spaces and then expect students to still succeed, you're asking them to do it without the tools they once relied on. That’s a recipe for increased dropout risk, burnout and disengagement.

What advice would you offer to your peers facing similar changes?

My core advice is this: wellness must be integrated into the larger student success framework. As legislators push for return on investment in higher education, measured in graduation rates, retention and post-college outcomes, we need to make the case that health and wellness are central to that ROI.

Healthy students stay. They graduate. They re-enroll. When institutions talk about student success, health and wellness professionals must be at the table. We can’t be in the margins. We are part of the academic pipeline.

We also need to redesign our systems to prioritize health literacy. That means teaching students how to use resources, access care and advocate for themselves. This isn’t just about offering services, it’s about making sure students understand them, trust them and can navigate them.

Finally, I urge leaders to think long-term. As the student population changes, so must we. One-time consultations and episodic support won’t cut it. We need proactive care, integrated models and systems that reflect the lived realities of our students. Only then can we truly support the next generation and justify the value we claim to offer.