On Wednesday, three inches of slushy snow fell on Omaha, Nebraska—enough to close area schools and day cares across the city.

But Creighton University and its law school remained open, creating a conundrum for staff, faculty and students suddenly faced with the prospect of missing work and class to watch their kids.

That's when Creighton law Dean Joshua Fershee stepped in. He messaged the law school community to offer his child care services.

"While I'm not a licensed provider, I'm generally good with kids and would be happy to watch some little ones, if it helps," wrote Fershee, the father of 11-year-old daughter and a 14-year-old boy. "We'll figure it out."

It was an unusual offer from a dean, and one that caught the attention of fellow academics on Twitter.

"THIS is how you support families. THIS is inclusive leadership. THIS is how we transform legal education," tweeted Meera Deo, the director of the Law School Survey of Student Engagement and author of a new book on the challenges women—and particularly minority women—face in the legal academy.

Fershee didn't think it was a particularly radical idea when he sent the message out, he said in an interview Thursday. As a professor, he had long allowed students to bring their kids to his class when they were in a bind. But it's the first time he opened his office for child care since becoming dean last year.

"I was a little surprised by the reaction, since it's something I've done for a long time, but I guess it's the first time I've done it as dean," he said, acknowledging that he checked his schedule to make sure he didn't have any important meetings before offering to watch any kids—he didn't want the child care burden to fall on his executive assistant.

"The social media response suggests it's more rare than I would have thought."

Fershee is familiar with the anxiety that comes with the child care scramble. He and his wife, Creighton law professor Kendra Fershee, would sometimes bring their children to class with them during school closures or drop them at a friend's house, and it was often stressful, he recalled. Just knowing that students and faculty have the option for someone to watch their kids during classes can be enough to alleviate some of that stress, even if they don't ultimately take advantage, he noted.

"We want to make the education rigorous," Fershee said. "I don't want to make the process of getting it rigorous. That's what we should be making easier. I think the biggest takeaway would be, at a minimum, leadership needs to be appreciative of the challenges families face."

In the end, Fershee only ended up watching two elementary-age boys, though he was prepared to handle more. Other professors and students brought their kids to class with them, and some stopped by just to thank the dean for opening up his office if needed. His charges stayed occupied with construction paper, an extensive array of highlighters, and viewing reruns of the long-defunct kids show Captain Kangaroo with associate dean for student affairs Rick McFayden.

Fershee acknowledges the gender dynamics at play when it comes to child care, with women often assumed to be primary caregivers. That's one reason he felt it was important to step up during the school closure. Such an offer could be a trickier proposition for women deans, he noted, because they may not want to reinforce those societal child care expectations in the workplace.

"I would never say this is the right thing for anybody else," Fershee said. "Each circumstance is different. There are huge gender dynamics to that. For me, it's sending a different message than it would for someone else. But I'm glad it resonated."