A forest biologist turned college president explains how biological systems thinking shapes institutional leadership. His career spans roles from launching biology greenhouses to restoring financial stability at a New Jersey community college.
Most college presidents don’t split firewood or study fungi decomposition in their spare time. Jon Hollaway Connolly does both. His path from forest ecosystems research to leading institutions through fiscal crises isn’t typical, but it reveals something about how systems thinking translates across fields. The question running through his career: how do you build structures that help people grow, whether those people are students, faculty, or the organisms breaking down a forest floor?
Jon Hollaway Connolly is president of Sussex County Community College in New Jersey, where he has led efforts to restore financial stability and expand workforce programmes in optics, electrical lineworker training, and automotive technology. He holds a Ph.D. in Biological Sciences from the University of Maine and a Master of Forest Science from Yale, where he conducted peer-reviewed research on plant biostimulants and root respiration. Before leading Sussex, he served as interim president of Northern Wyoming Community College District and held academic and administrative roles at Kennebec Valley Community College, Lone Star College–Kingwood, Husson University, and Allegheny College.
You’ve held many roles, from professor to president. What keeps you in education?
It’s the impact. I’ve seen how a well-run community college can change the trajectory of someone’s life. Whether it’s a new trades programme or a first-generation student finding their path, it’s real, and it matters. To succeed is to make a difference that elevates other people. Success is always achieved with others. You’re there to serve students, not systems, and when you lose sight of that, the work stops making sense.
You started your career as a scientist studying decomposition in forest ecosystems. How has that shaped your leadership style?
I think like a biologist in everything I do. Systems, feedback loops, balance. It’s how I try to lead too. Biology teaches you to see systems that contain elements of predictability and variability. Everything is connected. I have always tried to take that into leadership, understanding feedback loops, root causes, and slow growth. You can’t rush it, but you can guide it. Sometimes you crawl. But you don’t stop moving forward.
I think like a biologist in everything I do. Systems, feedback loops, balance. It’s how I try to lead too.
What was the biggest challenge you faced at Sussex County Community College?
The college was in financial trouble when I arrived. We had to rebuild trust, stabilize the budget, and launch programmes that served the local workforce. It wasn’t easy, but we did it together. We restored financial stability, increased enrollment, expanded concurrent enrollment with high schools, improved athletics, and launched trades and tech programmes. We didn’t just add courses, we built programmes that led to jobs.
You’ve launched programmes in optics, electrical lineworker training, and automotive tech. Why those areas?
We looked at what the region needed. These weren’t just good academic ideas, they were career paths. Students needed options that led directly to work, and employers needed talent. At Sussex we even repurposed a former car dealership into a campus facility to expand what we could offer. The goal was to build something that served the community, not just fill slots on a course catalog.
What do people consistently get wrong about your work?
They assume leadership is about individual achievement. It’s not. You don’t turn around a college alone. You support your team, you listen more than you speak, and you create the conditions for other people to do their best work. The real wins are when faculty pursue their original academic passions or when a new programme opens doors for students who didn’t see a path before.
You’ve encouraged faculty at multiple institutions to publish research and seek advanced degrees. Why does that matter at a community college?
Because faculty shouldn’t stop growing. At Lone Star College I encouraged faculty like statistician Chris Martin and biologist Brian Shmaefsky to pursue their expertise interests. At Kennebec Valley Community College I encouraged psychology faculty to publish their findings on student learning online and share best practices that demonstrably show an impact. At Sussex I helped develop a research institute that explored ideas in fusion engineering with the University of Rochester. When faculty stay engaged with their fields, students get better teaching.
We didn’t just add courses, we built programmes that led to jobs.
You earned a Master of Forest Science from Yale and a Ph.D. from Maine, then later completed 75% of an RN nursing degree at Lone Star College. What pulled you toward nursing?
I wanted to understand healthcare from the inside. I had to withdraw when I became interim president in Wyoming because the time demands were too much, but I’m contemplating returning to that goal. It fits with how I think about education. You never stop learning, and sometimes the best way to lead in a field is to experience what students experience.
You were named Teacher of the Year at Husson University and received the only honors comprehensive exam in your class at Colby College. What made the difference?
I wasn’t always the fastest or the biggest, but I showed up every day. That was true in sports when I was younger, football, hockey, and lacrosse in high school, soccer, track, and baseball in middle school, and it stayed true in academics. I was known for working harder than anyone else. Consistency matters more than bursts of brilliance.
At Kennebec Valley Community College, you stepped in as acting facilities chief during a budget crisis. How does a biologist end up managing buildings?
The COO resigned during a rough budget period, and someone had to step up. You do what’s needed. We launched a new culinary programme, a sustainable farm, and a second campus during that time. Leadership isn’t about staying in your lane. It’s about solving the problem in front of you.
Outside of work, you still study fungi and chop firewood. Why?
It keeps me grounded. There’s something honest about working with your hands and spending time in nature. It reminds me of where I came from, and why I do this work in the first place. I still read research, harvest and prepare low creosote-forming firewood, and explore the role of fungi in ecosystems. Science never left.
Leadership isn’t about staying in your lane. It’s about solving the problem in front of you.
You grew up in Basking Ridge, New Jersey, and later returned to lead a college in the same state. Does that feel like coming full circle?
In some ways, yes. I attended local public schools and then Delbarton School in Morristown. My two sisters continue to inspire me, one is a nurse and early childhood educator, the other a full-time mother and family operations chief. Returning to New Jersey to lead Sussex felt like a chance to give back to the region that shaped me.
You’ve described success as making a difference that elevates other people. What does failure look like?
Taking things or people for granted. Forgetting comportment and decorum. Moving forward without listening. I use fiction, movies, and stories to inspire me, and I rely on the wisdom of others. When you think you have all the answers, that’s when you stop being useful.
What’s one thing you believed early in your career that you no longer believe?
That you can control outcomes the way you control variables in a lab. You can’t. Biology teaches you that systems have predictability and variability, but in leadership, the variability is much higher. You guide, you support, you create conditions, but people make their own choices. Living a life of love and passion is the key. In all things. Remain humble before the things you cannot control.
What advice would you give to someone starting a leadership role in education?
Advice comes from all the learning along the way. Do not take things or people for granted. Listen more than you speak. Support your team. Comportment and decorum. And never forget, you’re there to serve students, not systems. One small change can ripple outward if you understand the system you’re working in.
You’ve built greenhouses, launched culinary programmes, expanded athletics, and worked on data reporting systems. What skill connects all of that?
Seeing how pieces fit together. At Allegheny College I helped launch a greenhouse and a new ecosystem ecology lab. At Northern Wyoming I worked on data reporting systems, moving from Colleague to CROA, and helped build new academic priorities. At Kennebec Valley we built a sustainable farm. It’s all systems work. You figure out what’s missing, what’s broken, and what needs to grow.
What stays true in higher education, regardless of trends or budget cycles?
Students need clear paths to work and growth. Faculty need support to stay engaged with their fields. And institutions need leaders who understand that slow, steady growth is how real change happens. You can’t rush it, but you can guide it. That’s been true at every institution I’ve worked at, from Maine to Texas to Wyoming to New Jersey, and I don’t see it changing.
