Are there lessons to learn AFTER the consolidation vote?

I found myself in the midst of an impromptu discussion about the upcoming NASPA/ACPA consolidation vote this morning when I posted two items to my Twitter account: "What happens if the membership of one organization votes to consolidate, and the other no?" and "And are we prepared to break down votes by demographics, to see who's voting 'yes' and who's voting 'no'?" I had recently read a thought-provoking post by Kristen Abell on her Kristendom Talks Tech blog stressing the importance of an informed vote on the consolidation matter, and I think this is why it was still ruminating in my mind over the weekend. So I threw it out there to the Twitterati to see if it might catch a response, and possibly lead me to deeper thought on the issue.

And it did. In fact, Kristen and I engaged in a brief discussion about whether breaking down the vote by demographics or comparing the results between NASPA and ACPA would even be productive or lead to greater tension and discord (and thus my decision to expand my thoughts here in this post). Some other posts echoed my question about breaking down the results to get a glimpse of who voted which way on the matter, and one from Chris Conzen that read, "I heard 1 official say in this situation, org that votes no tends to lose members if the other votes yes," a post that resonated with what I had originally been thinking--what happens if one membership votes no and the other votes yes? What does that say about each group, their belief in their own organization, their belief in the other organization, and how collaboration moves forward in the future?

Currently my only active membership is in ACPA. As a graduate student, I joined both (since the membership was much more affordable). I had a glimpse into what a joint organization might look like attending the 2007 joint meeting, and attended regional and national NASPA conferences before graduating. I haven't had a chance to participate as much since I took my current position as a spending freeze went into place in the fall of 2008 that prevented any out-of-state travel on state funds.

My interest in the first question was me wondering some of the reasons people are voting one way or another, and how it relates to their perceptions of both organizations. Perhaps many want to vote "yes" on consolidation so they no longer have to pay two membership dues. Perhaps some are not as interested in consolidation out of concern about losing the identity of their professional association(s). For me, I'm semi-passionately in favor of consolidation--not particularly enthusiastic about it, but from what I've read it could be a move forward toward a unified voice/vision for our field moving into the future. I'd love to retain memberships in both organizations again, but without being able to travel to participate in either organization's professional development opportunities, it hasn't seemed cost-effective to maintain both memberships.

As for my interest in my second question, that comes from my background in diversity. Mostly I imagined the biggest difference in the vote would be along the lines of age or years in the field--newer and younger professionals would be more open to consolidation while older and more seasoned professionals might be more hesitant to charge forward with such a dramatic restructure. But I also wondered if we might see significant differences in opinion along other demographic lines. And Kristen made a good point that often these types of breakdowns can be used in harmful ways, but I also see exploring the "why"s behind these differences as providing some excellent information regarding how our associations--or association--move forward. Perhaps there are unmet needs that some people believe might be addressed through consolidation that, though it may not pass, are uncovered through the learning process after the vote. Research like this would have to be conducted skillfully, aimed at moving forward beyond the vote, and done in a way that respects the memberships of both organizations (whether still intact or combined).

What I found provocative about Chris's Twitter post was the thought that a discrepancy in the vote, one organization voting in favor of consolidation and the other voting against, might sway members of one or the other to switch memberships. Not that I've ever believed there is some sort of "competition" between NASPA and ACPA to bring in the highest number of members, but could it cause someone to view their professional association in a different manner? I'm not sure it would cause me to up and realign my affiliations, but a discrepancy between the two could be a surprising result.

And then, of course, we return to the question of what our reasons are for voting one way or another. Which is in the best interest of our professional development? Which is in the best interest of our students, our ability to serve them well? Which might be more fiscally responsible both for our associations and our employing institutions? Which is a more efficient system? Kristen hit the nail on the head in driving home the point that we need to approach this vote as informed as possible--and deeply reflect on our reasons for voting either way.

Should we examine the demographics of the vote, or should the ultimate decision be allowed to stand alone? Would the opinions of your colleagues on the consolidation issue cause you to reassess your professional association?

Discussing Politics in the Office

Saturday was the anniversary of the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision which made abortion legal in the United States. When I was an undergraduate at Gonzaga University, every year a group of pro-life students would place a cluster of small white crosses on one of our campus lawns to represent the number of abortions that have taken place since then. I was reminded of this as my Twitter timeline started to fill with posts regarding pro-choice blogging to mark the anniversary of this landmark decision. I remembered how much I tried as an undergraduate to help demonstrate that not only were there pro-choice voices at the university, but that there were many pro-choice Catholic voices both at the university and across the United States. Many of the students on our own campuses are just as active and passionate about controversial political issues, and perhaps as a student you even were yourself!

In my Master's program we were discussing whether or not we share our views on politics in the office around our students. As someone who was a student activist and spoke out often on controversial issues, I'm more inclined to share with those around me how I feel, but a classmate of mine disagreed. To her, it was important in a professional role to maintain a perception of neutrality, that taking sides would silence students who disagreed with you. Since you enjoy a position of authority and power in relation to the students with whom you work, you should strive to make sure all students feel safe and comfortable when working with you.

The two major professional roles I have had (which sandwich my time in my Master's program) have been in areas which engage controversial, political topics constantly. Before graduate school I ran an LGBT Resource Center at my alma mater, and since graduation I have worked in Diversity and Multicultural Affairs at a Seattle-area community college. I have worked with students from a wide diversity of backgrounds whose identities cross politics on a regular basis. For many of these students, their ability to attend college has been the result of political deliberation and legislation, which means for me, it is much harder to remain silent on how I feel about issues that directly impact my own students.

One example of this is immigration reform, particularly the DREAM Act. For those of you unfamiliar with this piece of legislation, its purpose is to create a path toward residency and citizenship for undocumented youth who were brought to this country at a very young age. In Washington State, undocumented students are legally allowed to attend state colleges and universities, and can claim state residency under specific guidelines to pay in-state tuition rates. We work with many of these students (whether they disclose to us or not), and the DREAM Act is a very important issue for them. As a fervent supporter of the DREAM Act myself, and a believer that involvement in political issues is an important piece of civic engagement (an important educational outcome from college), plus knowing that my support for this legislation shows my commitment to these students' success, I am more than happy to be open about my beliefs on the issue with my students.

How about when political issues impact our own identities? Recently, there was a proposed referendum in Washington State to vote on our expanded domestic partnership law that granted the same rights under state law to lesbian and gay couples as married heterosexual couples. Not only have I worked in LGBTQ student affairs before, I currently am an advisor to our Queer and Allies Club and am one of very few openly gay staff members at the college. I obviously cared deeply about the issue, and I engaged in many passionate conversations with students who wanted to know what they could do to support passing Referendum 71 (which would uphold the law). Again, I was more than happy to share my feelings on the issue, and as an openly gay role model felt it important to affirming many of our LGBTQ students for me to take a stance on an issue important to our community.

Now, there are obviously limitations to discussing politics with students. I work at a state-funded institution, and there are ethical guidelines around "promoting" political issues during the work day. As a state employee, I can not engage in activity on state time that is intended to impact a ballot issue one way or another. I knew I could not advocate voting on the referendum one way or another, but I could help students learn about the issue and find ways to express their voices on campus. The same applies to discussing the DREAM Act--while I could not do activist work on the issue while in my professional capacity, I can help students who want to learn about the issue find information, and I can educate my colleagues on the experiences of undocumented students achieving higher education. I also believe sharing my views on a matter is a completely different issue than trying to influence how my students think about said matter.

My classmate had an important point though--how can we make sure that other voices are not stifled if we are open about our political beliefs? How do we ensure that students who disagree with us know that their views are valued on campus and their beliefs validated? I would hope that someone who feels differently than I do knows that just because I, as a college staff member, may feel one way on an issue, does not mean I do not believe in their freedom to pursue higher education and their right to express their views. But I know there is a power dynamic at play when students hold views that differ from those with authority.

As a former student activist, I remember not being satisfied with the idea that a plurality of perspectives were all good and valid. I wanted everyone to agree with me! As I have matured (I hope) and grown into a student affairs professional, though, and as I have reflected back on my interactions with other students, I've realized that I need to do the self-work to allow other views to be true and valid. I need to be able to understand that a perspective different than mine is not wrong, just different--and that the viewpoint holder's experiences, beliefs, and values all played a role in shaping that perspective just as mine did for me. Some of my self-work in cultural competence, like understanding my background and discovering my lens, has made a tremendous impact on my ability to tolerate--even appreciate--the tension of uncertainty, of holding various and often contradictory viewpoints as equally valid. Yet at the same time that same work has helped me hold stronger to my own values and beliefs.

The most important skill a student affairs practitioner would need to utilize to discuss politics with students is empathic listening when students express their views. We need to remember the education taking place is the student's process, and that our focus is on the student's growth as a result of the conversation. It's okay to share our perspective to either validate a student's opinion or to help a student examine her or his views more deeply. It's not okay to use our opinions on topics to shut other students down or to establish "acceptable" points of view in our offices.

One model/theory that I think should become a more integral part of student affairs work is Patricia King and Karen Kitchener's Model of Reflective Judgment (King & Kitchener, 1994). Their model looks at cognitive development in college and how young adults learn determine what it means "to know" something. Reflective judgment deals with ill-structured problems--often the root of contemporary political issues--that have no clear solution and the ways we develop our beliefs on how to address those problems. If we plan to discuss the important issues of our times with our students, we need to make sure we're giving them the tools to truly analyze the complexity and synthesize their opinions on the matter. This model is a great tool for structuring these learning opportunities.

How do you feel about this issue? Are you open about your political beliefs with your students? Why or why not?

Reference: King, P.M. & Kitchener, K.S. (1994). Developing reflective judgment. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers.

What do you demand from yourself?

"The hope of the world lies in what one demands, not of others, but of oneself." -- James Baldwin

This was the content of my 2000th tweet on Twitter. I decided to follow the lead of many of my #SAchat colleagues and try to post a substantive tweet for this milestone in my usage of the social networking site. And it did warrant a couple of mentions and RTs! I was thrilled that indeed, my 2000th tweet was "epic."

Immediately after posting the quote, as happens to many of my #SAchat colleagues, a blog post started to formulate in my head. All I really had done was use a Quotionary to look for a nice inspirational quote, and in fact, the topic "hope" was the third or fourth topic under which I was looking for a quote. Yet as I began to ponder the implications of Mr. Baldwin's statement, there was so much more that could be said about it.

One of my goals for 2011 (besides this blog) is to run the Walt Disney World Marathon in January 2012. My partner suggested it in December as he is always looking for an excuse to visit Disney, but for me, I have always been looking for a good excuse to get active. For some reason, for me, it's difficult to simply be motivated to be active by the sheer enjoyment of activity; I do a much better job when I'm reaching a goal. And working with someone I care about keeps me that much more motivated. Plus, I know this is a goal that very few people reach--which makes it all the more enticing for me to be able to say, "I've done that." But, as I'm prone to do, I needed to read a up a little first to make sure this is a realistic goal and that I could actually accomplish it.

I purchased a copy of Marathoning for Mortals. I mainly needed to know what it took to be ready for a marathon--and if a year would be a reasonable amount of time to train. So far, I'm about four chapters into the book, and it looks like we've given ourselves more than enough time to build up our endurance and train for what seems to be a fairly "easy" marathon. (Not that 26.2 miles is ever easy, but running a course that is near sea level and is fairly flat is much easier than something high in the mountains that is uphill the whole way.) The book explains that if you can take account of your ability before training, commit to completing the training as prescribed, and make sure you arrive at the starting line prior to the start time prepared as best you can, you will complete your race. But you can't expect anyone else to do the work for you--you have to require that commitment and persistence from yourself. We all have the same physiology--but what are you demanding out of yourself to be competitive, determined, and confident?

That same "demand" that you need of yourself to sustain your commitment to finish a marathon is the same "demand" you should have of yourself on a daily basis. This is a crucial piece to goal-setting--that raw, uninhibited desire to do great things. I've seen it in many of my colleagues: classmates from graduate school, coworkers at the college, acquaintances I've met through #SAchat, out in the world doing amazing work with students from every walk of life. We strive to foster that "demand" within our students as well, particularly our student leaders whose eagerness to serve their peers so resembles our own which brought us into the field from the start. Why not celebrate the fact that we want so much more out of life on a daily basis?

There is a lot more that goes into training for a marathon besides wanting to finish the race. There's the schedule and regimen you put yourself on to enhance your abilities, and there's the rest and recovery your body needs in order to adjust to expanding its physical limitations. I'll probably come back to "discipline" and "self care" at some point in the future, especially if my training continues successfully. But in the meantime, ask yourself, "What do I demand of myself? How am I setting ambitious goals by demanding so much of myself? What am I demanding of myself that will also contribute to the overall common good around me?"

I think I may have my "one word" for 2011...

Bryce

Student Affairs as Vocation

Last week, after the tragedy in Omaha and the campus shooting episode of Grey's Anatomy, I considered writing a post reflecting on my reactions to such incidents. But with Saturday morning's tragedy in Arizona as well, I don't think I have it in me right now. Plus I'd still want to focus on campus incidents rather than making a broader statement which may seem odd if I didn't mention it. That post may still be forthcoming, but not just yet.

Instead, I thought I would launch into the subject I wanted to write about most--how my decision to work in the field of student affairs (and possibly higher education in general) was not just a career decision, or even a lifestyle choice (as many Residence Life professionals may attest), but a vocational discernment. Allow me to unpack that phrase for you, at least as I understand it.

For many, the word "vocation" refers specifically to religious life, and for me, coming from my Catholic background, whenever my church hosted a "Vocation Talk," it was to foster an interest in the priesthood among us youth (read: young men; women are still not allowed to be ordained). The context in which we use the word is almost always religious--yet as I've come to understand the definition of "vocation," also speaks closely to the commitment those of us in higher education (especially student affairs) have made to our chosen field of work.

One of the meanings of the word vocation, from the Latin vocare (meaning "to call"), according to Dictionary.com, is "a strong impulse or inclination to follow a particular activity or career; a calling." When you speak to people who work in student affairs about what they do for a living, while you may never fully understand exactly what they do (and some of us are still figuring that out!), you will notice the intense passion they have for their work. And often that passion is contagious!

For me, my decision to become a student affairs professional was both unintentional and intentional. Like many of my colleagues, I did not graduate high school hoping to enter student affairs after finishing my undergraduate degree. I actually have a Bachelor's in engineering! But it was my campus involvement that led me to realize my passions and interests lay elsewhere--and the opportunity to establish an LGBT Resource Center at my alma mater (Gonzaga University) cemented that epiphany.

At the same time, though, my decision was also very intentional. While I was running the center, I took part in the Spiritual Exercises, essentially a long "retreat" that was created by the founder of the Jesuit order of Catholic priests, St. Ignatius of Loyola. (Gonzaga is a Jesuit university, and one of the religious studies classes I took was on Ignatian spirituality, so I knew what I was getting into.) While the Jesuits will go into a full month of silence to engage with the exercises, I opted for the less-intensive but just-as-fulfilling Spiritual Exercises in Everyday Living (affectionately known as SEEL). Instead of one month, participants engage over the course of nine months and only spend time twice a day in quiet reflection. It was during this time that I had the chance to deeply reflect on what I was doing for a career and how that spoke to me as a person.

And so to me, it began to feel more like a "calling" than a career choice. Granted, ultimately I plan not to become a senior student affairs officer (SSAO)--I plan to research and teach in Higher Education and Student Affairs--but higher education speaks deeply to who I am as a person, especially the developmental impact it has on students. Perhaps within your framework you may call this integrity, the synchronization of the external and internal worlds, but to me it feels like answering a voice speaking from deep within. And that is the basis of discernment--listening to those inner movements and seeing the path that you are being led toward (by God, in my case, or through whatever means with which you connect to the greater around you).

I plan to come back to this topic in future posts, particularly in how reading Parker Palmer has reinforced my belief that this truly is a vocation for me, and not just a career. In the meantime, do you see your work in student affairs as a job? Or is it also something bigger for you?

Bryce

How should we fund PUBLIC higher education?

To kick this blog off right, I am going to dive in with a post to get you thinking.

I think I've had this post ruminating in my head for months now. As I mentioned in my first post, sometimes I'll be posting about politics. In this case, I'm posting about an issue at the intersection of education and politics--higher education funding. I'm sure this is on many of your minds right now, particularly as state legislatures head back into session and new state governments take office this month.

As a brief disclaimer, this comes from someone who attended private, Catholic schools from 7th grade through the end of my Master's degree. My current job at Green River Community College is the first time I've been back in public school full-time since I finished sixth grade (over a decade ago, probably more than 15 years ago). I'm not sure what that has to do with my feelings on the matter, but it seems relevant to share.

Toward the end of Fall Quarter, our public information officer at Green River posted a news item to our faculty and staff news feed that resides on our college intranet. In it, he ruminated on some of the potential changes coming for the college as we look to the future, especially facing another legislative budget session where we expect to see major cuts in higher education funding. In this story, he mentioned a trend that has popped up in more than one news story on higher education funding around the nation, a trend that has been progressing for probably 40-50 years now--the shift in philosophy around state-funded higher education. In particular, he highlighted a change from "state-supported" education to "state-assisted" education.

Now, we all know that the percentage of public college and university budgets that come directly from the state has been rapidly shrinking, particularly through the 1980's to today, but something about seeing this much closer to home really struck a chord with me. What does "public education" mean when the public stops funding that system of education? Who holds the responsibility for providing public higher education when the public is not a majority stakeholder in those institutions?

A disturbing trend which has been picking up over the past few years of the Great Recession has been:

• A decrease in state funding of state college and university general fund budgets
• An increase in tuition at alarming rates for both resident and nonresident students
• A huge increase in the number of students enrolling in public higher education
• The subsequent increase in the amount of federal financial aid needed to pay for more students at higher tuition rates
• An increase in the need for private donations and nonprofit grant funding to keep essential programs running

I find this disturbing because I fear what this means with regard to who controls the quality and outcomes of that higher education. When providing this service is a mandate of the state, institutions are held accountable to the greater good of the public and are freer to make decisions based on what the surrounding community's needs are. When providing this service becomes subject to what will and will not get funded, priorities shift and private interests take precedence over public good. And I'm not saying state colleges and universities have always been idyllic mini-utopias; rather, I'm saying that ensuring the public has the greatest investment in our public colleges and universities will keep private interests (especially in our research universities) in check.

My director at work has always said no student should ever have to pay or borrow to attend community college, that community college should be a commodity open to any member of that community who wishes to attend. Yet we've even seen with the increases in tuition over these past couple years more students relying on financial aid to fund their education, and more students needing to borrow a little bit of money on top of their Pell grants. I borrowed quite a bit of money to finance my education, but that was to be expected choosing Jesuit Catholic universities for both my undergraduate and graduate degrees. Community colleges should be open to all--and the ability to pay for one's education should not become the threshold for whether you can attend or not.

The Seattle Times reported on Monday that a state task force charged with examining higher education funding issues in Washington State suggested allowing state colleges and universities the ability to set their own tuition rates--rather than the state legislature--to make ends meet. This would be matched with higher state and federal financial aid money to ensure students could attend. While this is a good short-term strategy to make sure colleges and universities do not have to cut much more in order to stay operational through the end of this economic downturn, I can't help but fear that this philosophy of higher education funding won't stay in place into the future. Perhaps there are benefits to be reaped in the end that I cannot divine at this point. But I think public higher education is a concept worth preserving.

Bryce

Happy new blog!

One of my goals (not resolutions!) was to begin a blog primarily about my work in student affairs. Knowing me, I'll post from time to time about other topics on my mind (probably most often religion or politics, I love to talk about those two taboo topics), but for the most part it will be related to my profession of choice.

And choice it most definitely was. When I graduated from Gonzaga, I had completed a degree in General Engineering, but engineering was the farthest thing from what I wanted to do as a career at that point. I had no idea what I wanted to do, and as a result I took the LSAT and applied to the Peace Corps. Fortunately, as Vice President of the college's gay-straight alliance (HERO--Helping Educate Regarding Orientation), we were engrossed throughout the year in developing a proposal for a LGBT Resource Center on campus. When I graduated, I was able to take on establishing that center for two years through a state AmeriCorps program. My supervisor mentored me toward considering student affairs as a career, and I achieved my Master's in Student Development Administration at Seattle University.

Currently I work in the Office of Diversity and Multicultural Affairs at Green River Community College, supervising the Commencement Achievement Program. We work with historically and presently underserved students to help them navigate the college system. I supervise nine students who work as Peer Navigators for these students, often belonging to similar social groups as their mentees. My idea for this blog came out of my recent plunge into the #SAchat community on Twitter. I have received so much valuable professional development interacting with this emerging group of social media aficionados harnessing this potential to benefit the student affairs profession. This is my chance to contribute back to the community--and student affairs as a whole--in a larger way than my participation on Twitter.

My goal is to post at least once per week--perhaps it will develop into more!

Happy new blog and happy New Year!
Bryce