What were some of the stories you were told when you were in college? I remember at my alma mater, Gonzaga University, everyone knew of our most famous alumnus (who actually never finished his program). Bing Crosby, who later received an honorary degree from the university, and who donated the money to build a library which was later converted into the student center but still bears his name, had grown up in Spokane, WA, and attended both Gonzaga High School and Gonzaga University. In reality, his passion for acting and music was inversely related to his interest in education and led to his departure, but in the stories we told on campus, his departure was initiated by a number of glamorous reasons, including unsuccessfully trying to hoist a piano through the fifth-floor window of one of the residence halls and dropping said piano to the ground instead. This is one of the many stories alumni of Gonzaga know upon commencement, an example of what I've come learn is called a "saga."
Clark (1972) introduced higher education to the concept of the organizational saga. A saga, as he wrote, refers to how members of an organization, such as a college or university, develop a collective understanding of some unique accomplishment in the organization's history that has significant meaning for the members. This collective understanding develops into a saga as organizational members retell the tale of that particular accomplishment but tend to add affect and embellishment in the retelling. It is through the added feeling organizational members give a particular story that the relative coldness and rationality of the organization melts away, inspiring strong feelings of loyalty to and pride in the organization among established and new members. Gonzaga alumni take some pride in the fact that they share an alma mater with Bing Crosby (though I will disclose there are aspects of the entertainer's life, like his history of abuse, which problematize this legacy).
Clark defined an organizational saga as an expression of a unified set of beliefs about an organization by its members that emerges from the organization's history about some unique accomplishment, characteristic, or circumstance and is held with conviction. Learning the sagas of a particular college or university is a way to understand its culture and values (not simply its history). I focused much of my final for my Organizational Analysis of Higher Education course on organizational saga, and found myself extremely fascinated with the whole idea of institutional "saga."
In doing a little outside research for my final, I came across an excellent example of a higher education organizational saga. President Emeritus of the University of Michigan Dr. James Duderstadt wrote an excellent overview of The Michigan Saga covering the university's history, symbols, and succession of leadership. The whole read was intriguing, but most surprising to me was how Dr. Duderstadt highlighted how the university's trend toward privatization could be linked to aspects of its history. It made me wonder whether the story would have been written in the same way at a different point in Michigan's history.
Sagas also emerge out of the multitude of experiences students and alumni have with their alma maters. Michigan State University started a project called "Spartan Sagas," collecting stories from current students and alumni describing how MSU played a pivotal role in their lives. The collective experiences we have with our alma maters shapes our values and our lives in ways that shape our loyalty to our institutions, the pride we take in having attended, and thus the overall legacy each institution has in our world. Reading through a few of these demonstrated for me much of MSU's legacy.
Think back to your own experience in college. What were some of the "great stories" that were told about your institution? What are some great stories from your time in college that have shaped your values and goals? If you were to write the organizational saga of your college or university, what story would you tell?
**Edit: Forgot to include my reference!
Clark, B.R. (1972). The organizational saga in higher education. Administrative Science Quarterly, 17(2), 178-184.
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Monday, March 26, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Please indicate your sexual orientation (unless you prefer not to answer)
According to this news story later tweeted by Big Q Ethics, incoming University of California students will be provided the opportunity to indicate sexual orientation in addition to the demographics UC already collects on race/ethnicity, gender, and other characteristics. One significant difference is the UC campuses will collect this data after admission to prevent students from concerns over whether this could impact their admission to one of the 10 UC campuses.
Considering so far only one college (Elmhurst) invites students to indicate sexual orientation on their college applications, this marks a bold step forward toward collecting better data on LGBTQ students in American colleges and universities. The UC system includes over 220,000 students, making it one of the largest systems of higher education in the United States, possibly even the world. If we accept that approximately one in ten Americans identifies as LGBTQ, for the first time ever we could track the progress and retention of around 22,000 students to understand how (if at all) sexual orientation and/or gender identity impact college outcomes. There currently is no systematic way to understand this relationship on such a large scale.
What surprised me was how both the article and Big Q Ethics framed the issue. Both pointed to the fact that yes, making such a change is controversial, but that the greater concern is whether or not collecting such information is an invasion of privacy. Yet the CBS article specifically highlighted how collecting demographic data on sexual orientation and/or gender identity is supported by LGBTQ students and professional staff, and that as long as providing this information is voluntary, most people have no problem with it. So where's the controversy?
To me, there was once a time in American history when asking someone their sexual orientation or their gender identity was invasive and threatening. Of course, then, neither sexual orientation nor gender identity were seen as demographic characteristics--they were (and gender identity still is) considered personality disorders. And colleges were not interested at all in knowing whether their students identified as LGBTQ. Our institutions have changed. And it's about time we started collecting demographic data on sexual orientation and gender identity just as we collect demographic data on several other dimensions of identity.
I am a graduate student representative to UCLA's Committee on LGBT Affairs, and we had a conversation about this very topic in one of our recent meetings. The argument that asking students their sexual orientation is an invasion of privacy is simply a stalling tactic to avoid taking the bold risk of finding out how better we can enhance what we know about our students by expanding our list of demographics. In fact, faculty from UCLA's Williams Institute, the leading research center on LGBTQ affairs in the United States (with the U.S. Census they pioneered studying same-sex couples and families for the first time with the 2010 Census), presented to our committee several ways to ask about sexual orientation and gender identity appropriately. It's tough to be the first, or among the early innovators, but without those willing to step first how do we within the field of higher education move forward?
To me, it comes down to one very important question: What risk are we taking by not collecting adequate information about our students' identities and experiences which could provide more genuine insight into factors impacting their persistence and ways we can better serve them?
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Considering so far only one college (Elmhurst) invites students to indicate sexual orientation on their college applications, this marks a bold step forward toward collecting better data on LGBTQ students in American colleges and universities. The UC system includes over 220,000 students, making it one of the largest systems of higher education in the United States, possibly even the world. If we accept that approximately one in ten Americans identifies as LGBTQ, for the first time ever we could track the progress and retention of around 22,000 students to understand how (if at all) sexual orientation and/or gender identity impact college outcomes. There currently is no systematic way to understand this relationship on such a large scale.
What surprised me was how both the article and Big Q Ethics framed the issue. Both pointed to the fact that yes, making such a change is controversial, but that the greater concern is whether or not collecting such information is an invasion of privacy. Yet the CBS article specifically highlighted how collecting demographic data on sexual orientation and/or gender identity is supported by LGBTQ students and professional staff, and that as long as providing this information is voluntary, most people have no problem with it. So where's the controversy?
To me, there was once a time in American history when asking someone their sexual orientation or their gender identity was invasive and threatening. Of course, then, neither sexual orientation nor gender identity were seen as demographic characteristics--they were (and gender identity still is) considered personality disorders. And colleges were not interested at all in knowing whether their students identified as LGBTQ. Our institutions have changed. And it's about time we started collecting demographic data on sexual orientation and gender identity just as we collect demographic data on several other dimensions of identity.
I am a graduate student representative to UCLA's Committee on LGBT Affairs, and we had a conversation about this very topic in one of our recent meetings. The argument that asking students their sexual orientation is an invasion of privacy is simply a stalling tactic to avoid taking the bold risk of finding out how better we can enhance what we know about our students by expanding our list of demographics. In fact, faculty from UCLA's Williams Institute, the leading research center on LGBTQ affairs in the United States (with the U.S. Census they pioneered studying same-sex couples and families for the first time with the 2010 Census), presented to our committee several ways to ask about sexual orientation and gender identity appropriately. It's tough to be the first, or among the early innovators, but without those willing to step first how do we within the field of higher education move forward?
To me, it comes down to one very important question: What risk are we taking by not collecting adequate information about our students' identities and experiences which could provide more genuine insight into factors impacting their persistence and ways we can better serve them?
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Saturday, March 10, 2012
My College Completion Agenda
What defines the social value of higher education? Is it its ability to turn degrees into economic returns, or does it provide other benefits to society unrelated to money? A recent article in The Chronicle of Higher Education ("Tuning in to Dropping Out") attempted to address this question.
Economic development is clearly a social benefit of higher education. And with financial conditions like those we see today, this benefit has become a highly valued commodity. But where I disagree with the article is how it not only stops at describing higher education's value to society solely by its ability to drive the economy, but how it also devalues degree programs outside the science, technology, mathematics, and engineering (STEM) fields. Higher education provides value to society in more ways than fiscal returns.
I do agree that the STEM fields have an important place in society. I myself have a Bachelor's degree in engineering, and I currently work with the Higher Education Research Institute at UCLA examining factors that contribute to underrepresented minority student success in STEM fields. These fields contribute much by way of technological innovation and economic growth, and far too few students are completing degrees in these fields.
There are other benefits higher education provides to society as well though. A major one is how college enables more effective civic participation. A liberal arts education (literally, education suited for a free person) emphasizes study in philosophy, ethics, morals, and other subjects required by people participating in activities like voting or serving the community. We live in a nation that since its founding has been led by college-educated individuals. This is a social benefit that cannot be measured within our gross domestic product.
Another benefit higher education provides is its role in solving social problems. The social sciences, other sciences, and other disciplines engage in teaching, research, and service directly aimed at understanding and solving social problems. Colleges also strive to equip individuals with the skills, knowledge, and behavior needed to personally contribute to enacting these solutions. Student affairs professionals are very familiar with this outcome as it impacts both students cognitive and affective development. How is this not of value to our nation?
Finally, and most pertinent to the examples (performing and visual arts) provided in the article, are the multitude of contributions colleges and universities make to the nation's arts and culture on an ongoing basis. We not only teach students about humanity's past contributions to culture, but we also create space for them to contribute to the perpetuation and progress of culture into the future. Universities have also provided much of the space for critique of our very understanding of what constitutes "culture" and "art." These contributions will provide unperceivable value as they benefit not only us today but also future generations on into perpetuity.
But does that mean everyone should go to college?
I take umbrage with the umbrella assertion that "college is not for everyone." Issues underlying completion rates are incredibly complex, and such a reduction seems to me to be an easy out. I don't necessarily disagree with the statement that college is not for everyone, and I think the stratification of career options following degree programs as opposed to vocational programs diminishes people's ability to make the right post-secondary decisions for themselves.
But even considering who should and should not attend college can be a dangerous exercise. How do we then determine who goes? Who deserves to attend college? College is more than continued personal and professional development for those who win the game of standardized test scores and high school grade point averages. And besides its intangible individual and social value, a college degree (even in the performing arts) is a privileged credential in society, and college attendance itself is a key to access networks of power and influence. From whom would you withhold this key?
Focusing on a number like "completion rates" also obscures many deeper, systemic issues that higher education leaders should be addressing. For one, how many students interested in STEM fields are diverted away from their intended course of study either due to inadequate preparation in the K-12 system or to experiences of marginalization and discrimination within STEM programs? Research shows that even though students of color express an interest in STEM programs at rates equal to or more often higher than their White peers, students of color complete STEM programs at exceedingly lower rates. Many switch into social sciences or humanities fields where they face far less isolation and marginalization than in the STEM programs they intended to complete. The author actually nails this on the head with, "Sit down, stay quiet, and absorb. Do this for 12 to 16 years...and all will be well." The dominant pedagogy in STEM can create a very "chilly" environment for students in these programs, and there are many STEM educators working on innovative pedagogies to retain these students.
A second problem this argument sweeps under the rug is the problem with systemic "tracking" of underrepresented minority and low SES (socioeconomic status) students into vocational programs, despite their true aspirations. The article actually trivializes this pattern by referring to vocational programs as "programs for at-risk students" in and of themselves. Students who attend underresourced high schools get nowhere near the level of college counseling as their more privileged peers, and most often are first generation students who cannot count on receiving crucial information about college choice at home either. These students end up choosing a "default" option, either being advised to consider their "best option" or having known peers and relatives who attended their local college. The article compares our system to that of German and other European systems of higher education, which tend to rely on more formal systems of tracking for placement of students. This tracking begins much earlier in a students' career, and potentially results in students making decisions about their futures very early in life. In this sense, I don't think the comparison is appropriate--although one can argue that our system functions in this way as well, just in more covert and systemic ways.
Overall, the issue is not the completion rate, nor is it deciding which fields of study hold more or less value for society. The issue is empowering students to make the best decisions for themselves--valuing their choices, ensuring access to adequate information, and providing ample support along the way. Our success is measured through their success--we know we've done well when our students reach their goals. This is what a true college completion agenda should be.
What would be on your college completion agenda?
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Economic development is clearly a social benefit of higher education. And with financial conditions like those we see today, this benefit has become a highly valued commodity. But where I disagree with the article is how it not only stops at describing higher education's value to society solely by its ability to drive the economy, but how it also devalues degree programs outside the science, technology, mathematics, and engineering (STEM) fields. Higher education provides value to society in more ways than fiscal returns.
I do agree that the STEM fields have an important place in society. I myself have a Bachelor's degree in engineering, and I currently work with the Higher Education Research Institute at UCLA examining factors that contribute to underrepresented minority student success in STEM fields. These fields contribute much by way of technological innovation and economic growth, and far too few students are completing degrees in these fields.
There are other benefits higher education provides to society as well though. A major one is how college enables more effective civic participation. A liberal arts education (literally, education suited for a free person) emphasizes study in philosophy, ethics, morals, and other subjects required by people participating in activities like voting or serving the community. We live in a nation that since its founding has been led by college-educated individuals. This is a social benefit that cannot be measured within our gross domestic product.
Another benefit higher education provides is its role in solving social problems. The social sciences, other sciences, and other disciplines engage in teaching, research, and service directly aimed at understanding and solving social problems. Colleges also strive to equip individuals with the skills, knowledge, and behavior needed to personally contribute to enacting these solutions. Student affairs professionals are very familiar with this outcome as it impacts both students cognitive and affective development. How is this not of value to our nation?
Finally, and most pertinent to the examples (performing and visual arts) provided in the article, are the multitude of contributions colleges and universities make to the nation's arts and culture on an ongoing basis. We not only teach students about humanity's past contributions to culture, but we also create space for them to contribute to the perpetuation and progress of culture into the future. Universities have also provided much of the space for critique of our very understanding of what constitutes "culture" and "art." These contributions will provide unperceivable value as they benefit not only us today but also future generations on into perpetuity.
But does that mean everyone should go to college?
I take umbrage with the umbrella assertion that "college is not for everyone." Issues underlying completion rates are incredibly complex, and such a reduction seems to me to be an easy out. I don't necessarily disagree with the statement that college is not for everyone, and I think the stratification of career options following degree programs as opposed to vocational programs diminishes people's ability to make the right post-secondary decisions for themselves.
But even considering who should and should not attend college can be a dangerous exercise. How do we then determine who goes? Who deserves to attend college? College is more than continued personal and professional development for those who win the game of standardized test scores and high school grade point averages. And besides its intangible individual and social value, a college degree (even in the performing arts) is a privileged credential in society, and college attendance itself is a key to access networks of power and influence. From whom would you withhold this key?
Focusing on a number like "completion rates" also obscures many deeper, systemic issues that higher education leaders should be addressing. For one, how many students interested in STEM fields are diverted away from their intended course of study either due to inadequate preparation in the K-12 system or to experiences of marginalization and discrimination within STEM programs? Research shows that even though students of color express an interest in STEM programs at rates equal to or more often higher than their White peers, students of color complete STEM programs at exceedingly lower rates. Many switch into social sciences or humanities fields where they face far less isolation and marginalization than in the STEM programs they intended to complete. The author actually nails this on the head with, "Sit down, stay quiet, and absorb. Do this for 12 to 16 years...and all will be well." The dominant pedagogy in STEM can create a very "chilly" environment for students in these programs, and there are many STEM educators working on innovative pedagogies to retain these students.
A second problem this argument sweeps under the rug is the problem with systemic "tracking" of underrepresented minority and low SES (socioeconomic status) students into vocational programs, despite their true aspirations. The article actually trivializes this pattern by referring to vocational programs as "programs for at-risk students" in and of themselves. Students who attend underresourced high schools get nowhere near the level of college counseling as their more privileged peers, and most often are first generation students who cannot count on receiving crucial information about college choice at home either. These students end up choosing a "default" option, either being advised to consider their "best option" or having known peers and relatives who attended their local college. The article compares our system to that of German and other European systems of higher education, which tend to rely on more formal systems of tracking for placement of students. This tracking begins much earlier in a students' career, and potentially results in students making decisions about their futures very early in life. In this sense, I don't think the comparison is appropriate--although one can argue that our system functions in this way as well, just in more covert and systemic ways.
Overall, the issue is not the completion rate, nor is it deciding which fields of study hold more or less value for society. The issue is empowering students to make the best decisions for themselves--valuing their choices, ensuring access to adequate information, and providing ample support along the way. Our success is measured through their success--we know we've done well when our students reach their goals. This is what a true college completion agenda should be.
What would be on your college completion agenda?
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Monday, September 5, 2011
Why it's also important NOT to run
This past Labor Day weekend was the Disneyland Half Marathon Weekend, but sadly, and very disappointingly, I had to forego my plans for 13.1 miles of running glory in my first-ever attempt at a long-distance race. My one word for 2011 was "demand," as I was had ambitious plans for this year (quitting my job to start my PhD, plunging into long-distance running, moving 1200 miles from Seattle to Los Angeles, turning 30), and in the process I've had to learn "demanding" of yourself means much more than simply trying to accomplish a whole lot of feats all at one time. It also means paying attention to the demands of your limitations, and realizing when it's time to reassess your goals and revising them to be met at some other time.
By the end of July, I had been making fantastic progress on reaching this half-marathon. My long-distance runs reached 8 miles, keeping me extremely confident in my ability to reach 13.1 in early September. Wade and I traveled to Southern California at the end of July to hunt for an apartment, and spent some time in Disneyland where I spent some time envisioning myself running with the throngs of people through the parks on a quest for that half-marathon finisher's medal. We returned to Seattle having successfully found a place, and I went back to work on my training.
My shorter runs that week went beautifully. In fact, in each of my 30-minute runs, I ran the farthest within that time period I had ever run before. I was looking forward to trying a 9 mile run that Saturday--I was really beginning to enjoy running through West Seattle on a weekly basis.
I started out just fine, but about an hour into the run I began feeling really tired and simply ready for the run to be over with. I mistakenly routed myself up a very steep street, and just did not want to push myself up that hill. I decided I'd walk up the hill and pick up my running at the top, but as I reached the top I could feel the usual aches that come after my long distance runs and realized I would not be able to start back up again. Sadly, this meant I had to walk about three miles to get home, but I just could not get back into it. I figured it was a bad day, I'd rest up for a couple days like normal, and get back on schedule to continue.
A couple days later, I set out on the first of my two shorter 30 minute runs during the week. This one started okay, but perhaps 8 minutes or so into it I felt very sharp pains in my knee (similar to what I felt that Saturday) and I could not run without limping. I had promised myself that if I felt any sort of pain I would stop--so I stopped, walked home, chalked it up to not allowing my legs enough time to heal between runs, and decided to forego my second short run of the week. I figured I'd wait about four days before trying another run to see how it goes. At this point I started to worry that it was something much worse, and that I'd need to see someone about it.
I did Tweet and post on Facebook about my woes, and got some good support and advice from people. I also went back to my marathoning book to reread the chapter on injuries. The best I could determine at that point was I was suffering from runner's knee, brought on by increasing mileage too quickly, but I wanted to see if I waited for the recommended number of days if that would make a difference. Four days later I set out to try to run 4 miles, and sure enough, nearly 15 minutes into the run I started to feel the pain again (albeit much duller than before). That was when I decided I needed to stop for a bit.
I did get an ice pack to help with post-run recovery, but I was faced with a bit of a dilemma. I wanted to see a doctor, yet at this point I was about two weeks from quitting my job and beginning my 1200 mile move down the Pacific coast. With all the other little tasks and activities that had to take place between now and then, wrapping up my job, and the race being literally a week and a half after we arrived in LA, I just didn't think I could squeeze it in. I tried one last time a week later to go for a run, and while I didn't feel any pain, I became very nervous and realized I didn't trust running on my knee without some professional advice and decided not to finish that run. At that point I decided I needed to forego this half-marathon, and as soon as my student health insurance kicked in I would try to see someone at UCLA about what I could do to get back on a training course again and attempt a half-marathon at some other point in the future.
It became a very emotional decision for me. I don't typically set goals for myself that I have to revisit and revise at any point--I (try to) accomplish every task I set out to do within the time frame I give myself to accomplish it. This was a very different kind of goal for me though, and it demonstrated to me how much I needed to learn about my physical abilities and limitations. I had a difficult conversation with my mother where she reminded me how both she and my father stopped any type of running as adults--she on the recommendation of her doctor, he after injuring his knee (around my age) when involved in a lot of races. My biggest fear is that I will get similar advice, that it just isn't in the cards for me, because all of a sudden this has become a personal goal I have begun to care about a great deal.
Wade and I still went to Disneyland over Labor Day weekend, though, which was somewhat difficult for me to face. We had registered for the race, and purchased pins commemorating the race which we had to pick up with our race packets (otherwise we would never get them, and we each spent a little money on those pins). We also signed up for the pre-race dinner which also cost a bit of money that we wanted to take advantage of. So here I was, still trying to figure out how to be okay with foregoing the race, surrounded by people who were all about to take part in this event, many for whom it was not their first, and feeling those same feelings of frustration and disappointment I had felt before. I knew not running was the best decision for me, but in my mind I began thinking, "Well, what about running some and walking some? What about speed-walking through the entire course?" It had been a good six weeks since I had any solid training for this race, and I did not want to be pulled off the course for not being able to complete the race on time, but I kept wondering if there were other ways I could finish.
I became very irritable and grouchy, and had to apologize to Wade several times for snapping back while we were picking up our packets and having dinner at the pre-race party. And I have to say, it was a bit stinging on Sunday to spend time in the parks watching all the people walking around with the finishers' medal around their necks, realizing that for so long (since January, in fact) I had imagined myself with one as well. As I told Wade on Saturday, I didn't want this to be the closest I ever get to finishing that race--and I am scared that it will be. But I know I made the best decision, and I'm sure after I get to speak with someone about it I will be able to sit down, revisit my goal, revise my plan, and get back "on track" all over again.
Number one to me throughout this process is care for myself, which is why I refuse to injure myself over something like this goal. I'm doing this as a way to challenge myself and improve my overall well-being--keeping myself healthy is far more important than making this happen right now, this year. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew in setting my 2011 goals (which is okay), or perhaps I am learning something new about myself (and the human condition) that will have far greater opportunities for future growth than I can currently expect. So while I stayed off the course this year, look out in the future--I'll be out there, finishing my race, soon enough!
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
By the end of July, I had been making fantastic progress on reaching this half-marathon. My long-distance runs reached 8 miles, keeping me extremely confident in my ability to reach 13.1 in early September. Wade and I traveled to Southern California at the end of July to hunt for an apartment, and spent some time in Disneyland where I spent some time envisioning myself running with the throngs of people through the parks on a quest for that half-marathon finisher's medal. We returned to Seattle having successfully found a place, and I went back to work on my training.
My shorter runs that week went beautifully. In fact, in each of my 30-minute runs, I ran the farthest within that time period I had ever run before. I was looking forward to trying a 9 mile run that Saturday--I was really beginning to enjoy running through West Seattle on a weekly basis.
I started out just fine, but about an hour into the run I began feeling really tired and simply ready for the run to be over with. I mistakenly routed myself up a very steep street, and just did not want to push myself up that hill. I decided I'd walk up the hill and pick up my running at the top, but as I reached the top I could feel the usual aches that come after my long distance runs and realized I would not be able to start back up again. Sadly, this meant I had to walk about three miles to get home, but I just could not get back into it. I figured it was a bad day, I'd rest up for a couple days like normal, and get back on schedule to continue.
A couple days later, I set out on the first of my two shorter 30 minute runs during the week. This one started okay, but perhaps 8 minutes or so into it I felt very sharp pains in my knee (similar to what I felt that Saturday) and I could not run without limping. I had promised myself that if I felt any sort of pain I would stop--so I stopped, walked home, chalked it up to not allowing my legs enough time to heal between runs, and decided to forego my second short run of the week. I figured I'd wait about four days before trying another run to see how it goes. At this point I started to worry that it was something much worse, and that I'd need to see someone about it.
I did Tweet and post on Facebook about my woes, and got some good support and advice from people. I also went back to my marathoning book to reread the chapter on injuries. The best I could determine at that point was I was suffering from runner's knee, brought on by increasing mileage too quickly, but I wanted to see if I waited for the recommended number of days if that would make a difference. Four days later I set out to try to run 4 miles, and sure enough, nearly 15 minutes into the run I started to feel the pain again (albeit much duller than before). That was when I decided I needed to stop for a bit.
I did get an ice pack to help with post-run recovery, but I was faced with a bit of a dilemma. I wanted to see a doctor, yet at this point I was about two weeks from quitting my job and beginning my 1200 mile move down the Pacific coast. With all the other little tasks and activities that had to take place between now and then, wrapping up my job, and the race being literally a week and a half after we arrived in LA, I just didn't think I could squeeze it in. I tried one last time a week later to go for a run, and while I didn't feel any pain, I became very nervous and realized I didn't trust running on my knee without some professional advice and decided not to finish that run. At that point I decided I needed to forego this half-marathon, and as soon as my student health insurance kicked in I would try to see someone at UCLA about what I could do to get back on a training course again and attempt a half-marathon at some other point in the future.
It became a very emotional decision for me. I don't typically set goals for myself that I have to revisit and revise at any point--I (try to) accomplish every task I set out to do within the time frame I give myself to accomplish it. This was a very different kind of goal for me though, and it demonstrated to me how much I needed to learn about my physical abilities and limitations. I had a difficult conversation with my mother where she reminded me how both she and my father stopped any type of running as adults--she on the recommendation of her doctor, he after injuring his knee (around my age) when involved in a lot of races. My biggest fear is that I will get similar advice, that it just isn't in the cards for me, because all of a sudden this has become a personal goal I have begun to care about a great deal.
Wade and I still went to Disneyland over Labor Day weekend, though, which was somewhat difficult for me to face. We had registered for the race, and purchased pins commemorating the race which we had to pick up with our race packets (otherwise we would never get them, and we each spent a little money on those pins). We also signed up for the pre-race dinner which also cost a bit of money that we wanted to take advantage of. So here I was, still trying to figure out how to be okay with foregoing the race, surrounded by people who were all about to take part in this event, many for whom it was not their first, and feeling those same feelings of frustration and disappointment I had felt before. I knew not running was the best decision for me, but in my mind I began thinking, "Well, what about running some and walking some? What about speed-walking through the entire course?" It had been a good six weeks since I had any solid training for this race, and I did not want to be pulled off the course for not being able to complete the race on time, but I kept wondering if there were other ways I could finish.
I became very irritable and grouchy, and had to apologize to Wade several times for snapping back while we were picking up our packets and having dinner at the pre-race party. And I have to say, it was a bit stinging on Sunday to spend time in the parks watching all the people walking around with the finishers' medal around their necks, realizing that for so long (since January, in fact) I had imagined myself with one as well. As I told Wade on Saturday, I didn't want this to be the closest I ever get to finishing that race--and I am scared that it will be. But I know I made the best decision, and I'm sure after I get to speak with someone about it I will be able to sit down, revisit my goal, revise my plan, and get back "on track" all over again.
Number one to me throughout this process is care for myself, which is why I refuse to injure myself over something like this goal. I'm doing this as a way to challenge myself and improve my overall well-being--keeping myself healthy is far more important than making this happen right now, this year. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew in setting my 2011 goals (which is okay), or perhaps I am learning something new about myself (and the human condition) that will have far greater opportunities for future growth than I can currently expect. So while I stayed off the course this year, look out in the future--I'll be out there, finishing my race, soon enough!
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Another word on my "One Word"
Teri Bump asked on Twitter: How has your #Oneword2011 impacted your year--so far? My word for this year is DEMAND, which I deduced back in an earlier post of mine from January. Since July 1 marked the start of the second half of the year, I thought I'd reflect back to see just how this word has impacted and influenced my first six months of 2011.
As I mentioned in my post, the word came from a quote I tweeted as my 2000th tweet (wow, to think I reached 2000 in January and recently hit 3000 in June, more than 1000 tweets in 6 months!):
"The hope of the world lies in what one demands, not of others, but of oneself." -- James Baldwin
One indelible mark Jesuit education has made on my life is a commitment to make the world a better place. Social justice is a hallmark of the Jesuit educational tradition, and the giving of one's self through service is an infectious outcome of Jesuit universities' commitment to that tradition. I am a person who has always maintained high expectations of myself, and I have seen first-hand the legacy that can be left by adhering to a philosophy of being the change one wishes to see in the world (thanks, Gandhi!). To me, the key word within Baldwin's quote is the word "demand," which goes above and beyond the Gandhi's "be the change" perspective. "Being" is a passive verb; "demanding" is an active verb, often done toward someone or something. Making a demand means expecting returns (often from others); making a demand of yourself means you have to produce results for the biggest critic you will ever face in life.
This year, this has mainly applied to moving toward starting my doctoral program. I feel like I got into the best PhD program I could have, and much of this is due to what I demanded of myself in the application process. Now committing to a program and working toward a terminal degree will require a demand of myself to produce the best academic work I ever have in my life. And I want the challenge. I look forward to graduating, when I can look back and reflect that I had pushed myself farther in my life than I ever had before. I've accomplished something very few people in this world have even started. I'm also pushing my comfort levels a bit too in picking up and moving to a city that is fairly intimidating (Los Angeles). It's shaping up to be a major test, but I know that with immense stretching will come immense growth.
Another area where I'm demanding much from myself is my half-marathon (and soon marathon) training. I'm already seeing some growth in that area as I run longer and longer distances. This Saturday I'm planning to run 7 miles, which will surpass my 6 mile run from June 25 as the longest distance I have ever run in my life. That's the part of this process that has amazed me the most: every other Saturday, when I go for my long run, I realize that I continue to beat my personal record for longest distance ever run in my life. It's an overwhelming but empowering thought each time I complete a longer distance. It makes me look forward to beating that record two weeks later.
Now, demand does not mean forgetting about self-care either. If you are demanding high returns from yourself, you also understand that not taking care of yourself diminishes the results you can continually provide. I have a lot of forces pulling me in many directions right now (pending move, marathon training, fiancee, pets, work, church commitments, wedding planning, etc.) which can become very overwhelming to think about all at once. Amidst all this, I have to make sure I'm giving myself enough time to sleep, as well as eating healthy (which I could improve), taking time to do things I enjoy, and otherwise finding enough balance that I don't physically, mentally, or emotionally fall apart. The half-marathon training helps as physical exercise is generally the main item of which I don't get enough, and sleep is the second; knowing these helps me maintain a bit of focus and balance in my life. You may even consider self-care as an item I demand of myself--I demand to keep my life in balance!
Did you choose a "one word" for 2011? How have you seen that word shaping your first six months of 2011? If not, what word would you choose as your "one word" to define how 2011 is shaping up for you?
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
As I mentioned in my post, the word came from a quote I tweeted as my 2000th tweet (wow, to think I reached 2000 in January and recently hit 3000 in June, more than 1000 tweets in 6 months!):
"The hope of the world lies in what one demands, not of others, but of oneself." -- James Baldwin
One indelible mark Jesuit education has made on my life is a commitment to make the world a better place. Social justice is a hallmark of the Jesuit educational tradition, and the giving of one's self through service is an infectious outcome of Jesuit universities' commitment to that tradition. I am a person who has always maintained high expectations of myself, and I have seen first-hand the legacy that can be left by adhering to a philosophy of being the change one wishes to see in the world (thanks, Gandhi!). To me, the key word within Baldwin's quote is the word "demand," which goes above and beyond the Gandhi's "be the change" perspective. "Being" is a passive verb; "demanding" is an active verb, often done toward someone or something. Making a demand means expecting returns (often from others); making a demand of yourself means you have to produce results for the biggest critic you will ever face in life.
This year, this has mainly applied to moving toward starting my doctoral program. I feel like I got into the best PhD program I could have, and much of this is due to what I demanded of myself in the application process. Now committing to a program and working toward a terminal degree will require a demand of myself to produce the best academic work I ever have in my life. And I want the challenge. I look forward to graduating, when I can look back and reflect that I had pushed myself farther in my life than I ever had before. I've accomplished something very few people in this world have even started. I'm also pushing my comfort levels a bit too in picking up and moving to a city that is fairly intimidating (Los Angeles). It's shaping up to be a major test, but I know that with immense stretching will come immense growth.
Another area where I'm demanding much from myself is my half-marathon (and soon marathon) training. I'm already seeing some growth in that area as I run longer and longer distances. This Saturday I'm planning to run 7 miles, which will surpass my 6 mile run from June 25 as the longest distance I have ever run in my life. That's the part of this process that has amazed me the most: every other Saturday, when I go for my long run, I realize that I continue to beat my personal record for longest distance ever run in my life. It's an overwhelming but empowering thought each time I complete a longer distance. It makes me look forward to beating that record two weeks later.
Now, demand does not mean forgetting about self-care either. If you are demanding high returns from yourself, you also understand that not taking care of yourself diminishes the results you can continually provide. I have a lot of forces pulling me in many directions right now (pending move, marathon training, fiancee, pets, work, church commitments, wedding planning, etc.) which can become very overwhelming to think about all at once. Amidst all this, I have to make sure I'm giving myself enough time to sleep, as well as eating healthy (which I could improve), taking time to do things I enjoy, and otherwise finding enough balance that I don't physically, mentally, or emotionally fall apart. The half-marathon training helps as physical exercise is generally the main item of which I don't get enough, and sleep is the second; knowing these helps me maintain a bit of focus and balance in my life. You may even consider self-care as an item I demand of myself--I demand to keep my life in balance!
Did you choose a "one word" for 2011? How have you seen that word shaping your first six months of 2011? If not, what word would you choose as your "one word" to define how 2011 is shaping up for you?
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Friday, July 1, 2011
What I'm reading right now: Mentor, by Laurent Daloz
I feel blessed that my Student Affairs position (and functional area) allows me the opportunity to maintain longer term relationships with the students I serve on campus. Compared to my colleagues at the community college where I work, this is a fairly rare opportunity as our student affairs are oriented more around Student Services, so many of them handle long lines of students requesting services, rather than providing prolonged support or mentorship.
I am currently reading Mentor by Laurent Daloz, and though I am only into the second chapter, the book has already given me enough to think about that I've been inspired to write. Lisa Endersby and I have been involved in a long-term conversation regarding mentorship within student affairs, including planning a presentation for the upcoming 2012 NASPA conference. As a greater proportion of the students we serve in the community college are adult learners (compared to my four-year counterparts), I'm finding the book extremely relevant and descriptive of how I conceptualize my work. Granted, I will only be in this position for another month and a half, but the book was purchased for departmental usage and my reading validates it as a valuable resource for our work.
Daloz is using mentorship as a framework for working with adult learners in reaching their educational goals. In particular, he uses the metaphor of journey to describe the educational path of adult learners, and he describes mentors as the guides on that journey. I've had many conversations about the role of mentors in the lives of underrepresented and underserved students as these mentors can provide the type of guidance traditional students receive before and through their college experiences, but I haven't given as much thought to this role in the journeys of adult learners. In particular, I love how he describes the role of a mentor as engendering trust, issuing a challenge, providing encouragement, and offering a vision (p. 31). (Anyone notice challenge and support there?) These themes are of particular importance to adult learners as it respects the life experience they bring to college but recognizes that they too are students who want to learn and are looking to maximize their time "out of life"--not immediately focused on family or work--that they are on campus, in college. My experience working with adult learners is that they simply need reassurance to rebuild their confidence as students--that they are on the right track--rather than the more intensive needs that traditional students bring as emerging adults trying to figure out what will happen next for them in life. Often when adult learners return to school they fear they no longer have the same energy/ability/capacity to be students again, and simply need to be shown that yes, they do, and moreso, their life experiences can provide even better preparation than those moving from one school to the next.
Daloz also does a fantastic job balancing the content of his book--application of developmental theory, framework for mentorship--with stories from his own experience as an educator. As I continue to read I may come across more blog inspiration, but for now all I can say is that I highly recommend this book. Check it out from the library, or convince your director to add it to your departmental resources!
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Reference: Daloz, L.A. (1999). Mentor: Guiding the journey of adult learners (2nd Ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
I am currently reading Mentor by Laurent Daloz, and though I am only into the second chapter, the book has already given me enough to think about that I've been inspired to write. Lisa Endersby and I have been involved in a long-term conversation regarding mentorship within student affairs, including planning a presentation for the upcoming 2012 NASPA conference. As a greater proportion of the students we serve in the community college are adult learners (compared to my four-year counterparts), I'm finding the book extremely relevant and descriptive of how I conceptualize my work. Granted, I will only be in this position for another month and a half, but the book was purchased for departmental usage and my reading validates it as a valuable resource for our work.
Daloz is using mentorship as a framework for working with adult learners in reaching their educational goals. In particular, he uses the metaphor of journey to describe the educational path of adult learners, and he describes mentors as the guides on that journey. I've had many conversations about the role of mentors in the lives of underrepresented and underserved students as these mentors can provide the type of guidance traditional students receive before and through their college experiences, but I haven't given as much thought to this role in the journeys of adult learners. In particular, I love how he describes the role of a mentor as engendering trust, issuing a challenge, providing encouragement, and offering a vision (p. 31). (Anyone notice challenge and support there?) These themes are of particular importance to adult learners as it respects the life experience they bring to college but recognizes that they too are students who want to learn and are looking to maximize their time "out of life"--not immediately focused on family or work--that they are on campus, in college. My experience working with adult learners is that they simply need reassurance to rebuild their confidence as students--that they are on the right track--rather than the more intensive needs that traditional students bring as emerging adults trying to figure out what will happen next for them in life. Often when adult learners return to school they fear they no longer have the same energy/ability/capacity to be students again, and simply need to be shown that yes, they do, and moreso, their life experiences can provide even better preparation than those moving from one school to the next.
Daloz also does a fantastic job balancing the content of his book--application of developmental theory, framework for mentorship--with stories from his own experience as an educator. As I continue to read I may come across more blog inspiration, but for now all I can say is that I highly recommend this book. Check it out from the library, or convince your director to add it to your departmental resources!
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Reference: Daloz, L.A. (1999). Mentor: Guiding the journey of adult learners (2nd Ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
A Small Sign of a Big Legacy
On Saturday, I visited the place I went to college, Gonzaga University, for somewhat a final time in advance of my move to Los Angeles this August. Whenever I'm in/around Spokane, I love to drop by the campus, visit the bookstore, walk around to see what has changed and what has stayed the same, and reminisce about the "good old days." I graduated about seven years ago, so there definitely has been a lot of change over the years. Yet it still feels so familiar, trapped in time, where it can be 2004 again...
When I dropped by the residence hall where I lived my first two years, though, I was caught by a very touching surprise--through the front window, you could see the window of the RD's room right inside the hall entrance. And on that window, somewhat obscured by the glass and the fact the hall was dark, was a placard that I instantly recognized--a Safe Space placard.
Now, when I lived in this hall (2000-2002), I was just barely coming out. My first year I was able to come out to my friends, roommate, even RA, but I was still fairly cautious during my years in the hall. In fact, I had even heard a rumor my second year that someone in the hall knew there was a gay guy living there, and if he ever found out, he'd beat him up. So while I wasn't terribly "closeted" as you might say, I also felt a need to be on my guard to make sure I stayed safe while I lived there. My roommate was phenomenal, and I was a member of the gay-straight alliance on campus. I had a support network, but I also knew the reality of what life is like for an openly gay person in the world.
Now fast-forward to 2005. I'm a year into my position as an AmeriCorps volunteer at Gonzaga building up a brand-new LGBT Resource Center we successfully proposed just before I graduated. I got an email from a newer Philosophy faculty member to find out if we had a program like a Safe Space program, and how she could participate. Honestly, we did not. We wanted one when I was a student, but we never thought we could sway faculty and staff to participate in a training put together by us students. So she and I met several times, and I utilized the awesome network within the Consortium of LGBTQ Higher Education Resource Professionals, and we crafted a Safe Space program. I found a very simple symbol to use for our placards (the sign you post after you complete the session), a rainbow squiggle, and passed it along to a graphic designer friend of mine to clean it up and make it look professional. We were able to run the Safe Space program the summer just before I took off for graduate school, facilitating it for much of our Student Life staff. My faculty instigator continues to stay in touch and keep me informed on how the program has developed. She reassures me it has grown by leaps and bounds, becoming extremely successful and popular on campus.
But to see my old residence hall, where I was struggling with my own identity, and to imagine what it may have been like for a college student like me to see a Safe Space placard IN MY LIVING SPACE, I started to get a little choked up inside. It was a fantastic reminder of the role we all play in empowering our students to identify a need, advocate for a cause, and/or make a difference in their campus. My work led me toward an interest in the study of higher education, and the self-efficacy I developed from being a student leader has pushed me to seek more for myself and my accomplishments in life. And to think how quickly that could change for a student who may feel unwelcome or unsafe in their own campus living environment. Above all, nothing can be more meaningful for someone to realize that they left a positive legacy, no matter how small. It reminds me of our constantly repeated adage, "Leave a place better than you found it."
While it was great to see the campus again before I took off for my doctorate, what will leave the greatest impression on me--and continue to push me to seek more, to DEMAND (to use my one word for 2011) more from myself--is seeing that small sign of where I made a difference in the world, and to realize that there's still so much more to come.
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
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