Over my 31 years in education, including my time as a graduate student and a professor, I've cultivated a series of guiding principles that my students have come to know as "Dr. Berry's Six Rules." More than mere guidelines, these rules are the compass that directs my teaching, research, and advocacy, and the sword I live and die by. They're simple, yet I believe abiding by them offers profound benefits that extend far beyond the classroom. These rules have evolved over time, often in response to the invaluable insights from my students and mentees—the very best reason to keep working on my Kung-Fu every single day!
Here are the rules that shape my philosophy:

Own your terms, don't just throw citations like ninja stars. This rule was born during my graduate studies when I observed a common tendency (and fell prey to it myself!) to use academic terms without truly internalizing their meaning. My mentors rightfully called me out, and I'm eternally grateful they did.

​Rule Number One has kept me honest as a scholar and is a fundamental principle I impart to my students early on. In fact, it's the very foundation of our LSLP Micro-Papers, a practice at the Literacies in Second Languages Project (LSLP) designed to foster deep conceptual understanding.

Every question deserves thoughtful consideration, not necessarily an immediate answer. In my classes and when mentoring students, I expect them to engage deeply with questions and wrestle with ideas.

​However, I also emphasize the importance of pausing, even briefly, to genuinely think before responding. This habit of deliberate reflection is invaluable, especially when navigating high-stakes situations like defending a master's thesis or dissertation.

Speak and write with integrity; honesty is paramount, especially as a teacher. This rule, also solidified during my doctoral studies, is one I practice diligently. My mentors always provided honest feedback, and I believe teachers owe the same to their students.

​While motivation is crucial, it must be grounded in truth. Teachers shouldn't lie to their students, as St. Thomas Aquinas might have said. This rule directly influences my decision to write letters of reference or recommendation: I only write them for students whom I know well enough to evaluate honestly, because I want to prevent the disservice of a hollow letter affecting a mentee's application.

Don't panic—it solves nothing. This was the first rule I formulated during my professorial career, a direct response to students' reactions to feedback in my research classes. It's easy to feel overwhelmed, but panicking never leads to solutions.

As John Wick would remind us, rules have consequences. I sometimes wonder if I broke my shoulder in 2019 because I panicked; as Alanis Morissette would say, "life has a funny way." Rule Number Four has a crucial corollary

Rule Number Four has a crucial corollary:

... and if Dr. Berry panics, run... or don't... because that probably means the asteroid is coming!

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Rise to the occasion; always strive for excellence. Ah, Rule Number Five—the dreaded one, the one my researchers "fear" the most! This rule is a call to action: to go for broke, as my dear hermana Dr. Yolie Sealey-Ruiz would say, and cultivate a culture of excellence.

It's my way of encouraging students to view class assignments as opportunities for growth and creativity, not just minimum requirements. This rule is so special it even has its own verb within LSLP: to be rulefiveified.

​My students know they'll inevitably be "rulefiveified" every time they pitch an idea! A brief caveat: I always tell students not to pitch insane ideas that might get them (a) incarcerated, (b) unalived, or (c) excommunicated!

Model the path you expect your students to walk. This rule's origin traces back to my student teaching in 1994, where I observed a disconnect between what instructors asked of students and what they modeled themselves.

For me, teaching is fundamentally about moral authority and leading by example. You can't ask students to read if you don't; you can't expect them to enjoy writing if they don't see you writing; you can't tell them to present and publish unless you model that path.

​At the same time, I acknowledge that we don't know everything. If teaching is learning, why can't we also learn with our students? This sense of mutual learning and modeling forms the bedrock of this final rule.