Toni Maisano, professor of teaching in the School of Communication, researches family communication and identity among young adults
Toni Maisano
By Taylor Pedersen, CLA Student Writer - January 19, 2025
Toni Maisano grew up as the oldest of eight in a tight-knit Texas household where higher education wasn’t an expectation, especially not for girls. She was homeschooled from kindergarten through high school, shaped by once adhered to conservative evangelical values that she now recognizes as central to both who she is and the work she does.
“Even though I’ve changed a lot and evolved,” she said, “I’m still very rooted in my family life.” That rootedness is the foundation of a research career built on understanding how families communicate, support, and sometimes struggle to accept one another.
Maisano didn’t set out to become a scholar. At 20, she backpacked through New Zealand and the Pacific, a spontaneous adventure that ended, somewhat shockingly, with her stumbling into the idea of going to college. “I probably didn’t think, ‘Oh, college is for me’ until I was at least a semester in,” she said with a laugh. But that changed quickly. A handful of professors at Abilene Christian University noticed something in her writing: curiosity, clarity, an instinct for asking questions others overlooked. Their encouragement was her first real glimpse of herself in an academic setting. “They really affirmed me,” she said, “and they nurtured that curiosity.”
At first, she was a marketing major at Abilene, a small university in west Texas, but her interests soon shifted. Speech and debate pushed her into the orbit of the communication department, where course titles alone sparked more excitement than anything in her business plan. She switched majors and found a community where her questions about people, relationships, identity, and belief felt not only welcome but important.
Graduate school at Texas State University in San Marcos solidified that sense of purpose. She entered her master’s program as both a researcher and a newly minted instructor; an intimidating leap for someone barely removed from her own undergraduate classes. But the more she taught, the more she realized she loved working with students. Confidence came slowly, she said, with repetition and support. “I had to grow into teaching as myself,” she explained. “Not the version of what I thought a professor was supposed to be.”
Her research at Texas State focused on family communication, specifically how parents talk with their children about sex and relationships, and how those early conversations shape development later in life. It was work steeped in her own upbringing and the broader homeschooling movement she grew up in. Over the years, she followed emerging conversations online, as more adults from similar backgrounds began publicly reflecting on their experiences. “It keeps the wheels turning,” she said. “I’m always wondering about the implications. How do people manage these relationships today?”
By the time she pursued her Ph.D. at the University of Nebraska—Lincoln, her research lens shifted to another question she knew intimately: how families communicate acceptance when religious beliefs diverge. Many of her findings resonated deeply with her own story. But what surprised her most were the families who, despite profound differences, found creative ways to sustain closeness. “Some participants couldn’t fully explain how it worked,” she said, “but they still had these positive, functional relationships. That was really lovely to witness.”
Now at Oregon State, Maisano is exploring what happens when people leave evangelicalism altogether, a process often referred to as faith deconstruction. She is part of a multi-university team using both interviews and found poetry to analyze the identity shifts that accompany leaving a tightly structured belief system. One participant’s description, “deconstruction is both loss and creation,” has become the project’s unofficial thesis. “There’s grief,” she explained. “There’s the loss of certainty. But there’s also this beautiful opportunity to step into a new chapter of life.”
Across her work, Maisano doesn’t pretend to be an objective outsider. As a qualitative researcher, she said transparency matters to her more than neutrality. She names her positionality openly and collaborates with researchers whose experiences differ from her own, creating balance rather than distance. “I don’t ever want to fully separate myself from what I study,” she said.
As the instructor of several communication courses, including interpersonal (COMM 218), family (COMM 332), and gender and communication (NMC 432), she’s focused on helping students navigate deeply personal subjects. Her classes begin with a simple, but demanding question: who am I? She integrates reflective writing, journaling, discussion, and art-based assignments to encourage students to approach topics through the lens of their own identities. For her, teaching is less about content and more about cultivating space, one where students can wrestle with identity, faith, relationships, and uncertainty without fear of judgment. “I love hearing students’ stories,” she said. “It’s one of my favorite things.”
Looking back on her path, from a home where college wasn’t encouraged, to teaching at a major research university, Maisano hopes students who feel out of place remember that there is no single “correct” academic journey. What matters most, she said, is compassion for yourself along the way. “We’re our own worst critics. But everyone comes to college with a unique collection of experiences. You have to run your own race. Self-compassion. Radical self acceptance. There’s always room to grow, no matter where you start.”