One topic that is always of interest to me is religion. As someone who attended Catholic schools from 7th grade through my Master's program, and as a practicing Catholic, religion and spirituality play an important role in my life. I was thrilled to see the Blog Prompt Monday post on Student Affairs Women Talk Tech about talking about religion with students. It's a very tricky issue, particularly for those of us working/attending public schools. But it's a topic with important student development implications.
"Do you discuss religion and/or spirituality at your institution or ignore it? How do you think this affects students?" asked Kristen Abell.
Now, to clarify, I'm not talking about the type of religious discussions that we would normally characterize as proselytization. There are religious people for whom discussing religion is about converting their peers to follow their faith tradition, and (I suppose) there is a time and place and sphere for those conversations. The public sphere is not one of those. To me, the question is not asking people to promote their faith to potentially interested followers looking for something greater to believe in. To me, the question asks, how do we promote conversations with students--and with each other--where we share our values, our beliefs, and better understand what's important to each of us? How do we foster conversations about that which is greater--if we even believe there is something greater--and how that impacts our experiences of education, development, and life in general?
For me, continuing to practice Catholicism is no small thing. There was a point in my life when I could have easily abandoned my faith out of despair. When I was a freshman, I had a deep crisis of faith that coincided with my coming out process and openly acknowledging that I was (am) gay. I feared that as a gay man, I had no place in the Catholic Church--the Church would never accept all of who I am, and, in particular, the Church would never bless the loving relationship I knew I would eventually enter into. Yet in the years leading up to entering college, I had developed a deep appreciation for--devotion to--my religious beliefs, especially the Church's profound traditions, and it hurt to imagine I would have to separate myself from that love.
There are many things I never loved about the Catholic Church (keeping women out of the priesthood, too loud on abortion and not loud enough on human rights, dark history around sexual abuse), but I also saw the tremendous life-giving potential associated with religious faith and devotion. Luckily, due to my desire to attend a Catholic university, I landed at a Jesuit institution--Gonzaga University--where I met many Catholics, including Jesuit priests, who helped me negotiate these two seemingly disparate identities to engage the creative tension between them and reap the spiritual benefits thereafter. I always blame the Jesuits for keeping me in the Catholic Church, and I think I became even more devout after my college experience.
None of this would have been possible if it weren't for their willingness to discuss spiritual matters with students. And one could argue that it is somewhat expected both of a Catholic university and of spiritual leaders in the college setting to discuss matters of religion and spirituality with students. But I know many students who do not have the same access to private institutions such as Gonzaga, and many of these students are grappling with similar, to-the-core issues related to religion and spirituality that they bring with them to college. Some of these issues are best addressed with a person qualified for spiritual counseling, but I wonder if students might benefit from general discussions where they are allowed to provide some insight into the make up of their belief systems and how it has guided them in life to who they are today.
A recent study out of UCLA examined students' experiences of spirituality in higher education, and the findings showed students wanted to explore these issues further while in college. Often these matters drive students' passions in their studies and in their chosen career/vocational paths; perhaps it might behoove student affairs professionals to allow students to bring these experiences into their conversations to better help guide them through their educational journey. I don't necessarily make it a personal habit to discuss matters of religion and spirituality with others as I believe it to be intensely personal and I don't want to come across as someone looking for converts. But might it be to our students' benefit to open up discussions about religion and spirituality a little more often?
Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes
Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Moving along, the Conclusion
The week after finishing all my applications, after I completed my final application to the University of Washington and submitted it, I received a phone call from an unknown number (in an unknown area code). It turned out it was my former faculty advisor, who now teaches at Loyola Chicago. She was calling to let me know I was selected for an on-campus interview for their PhD program, and that more information was coming in my email. I was very excited to hear back from one school, and I was even more excited that it was positive news! I began to dream about my life with a PhD from Loyola.
But the bigger news came the next week. In all I read about putting together doctoral applications, it is highly recommended to mention faculty with whom you would like to work. I actually did not do this, mainly because it felt like a gamble--many faculty have research interests related to each other's and I would end up picking the faculty who don't have room. While this may not be a recommended approach for applying, I have to say it worked out well for me in the end. The week after my first phone call, I received another (unknown, from an unknown area code) while sitting in a meeting.
I listened to the message after the meeting, and just about dropped my phone. "Hello, I am calling from UCLA to talk to you about admission to our program. Could you please call me back either tonight or tomorrow when you get a chance? I'll give you my home phone number as I will be working from home tomorrow. Thanks." The voice on the other end? A faculty researcher at UCLA who, to me, is like a celebrity in the field (and no, it was neither of the Astins). Very unexpected. I had that moment of, "Really, is she calling me? My cell phone? Not a wrong number? My name didn't mistakenly end up on someone else's application?"
What I heard when I reached her the next morning floored me: "I wanted to let you know that you have been accepted into our program, that I have been assigned your advisor, and I wanted to offer you a job as a graduate student researcher on one of my research projects." In one sentence, she laid out every single aspect of a PhD program I needed addressed in order to realistically pursue my degree. I wanted to go full time and work on research, so I needed research work and funding. Working on a research project pays tuition, fees, and a small stipend, so it felt good that I now had a very viable option. I was originally cautioned that UCLA was going to be competitive this Fall, and that my research interests may not align as well, so it was a pleasant and welcome surprise.
The next week I got a letter from Penn State. I originally thought they were declining admission, so it was a huge surprise to read I was accepted! I also received a call from a faculty member there inviting me to work on her research, and at that point I knew it was going to be a difficult decision. But at that point I was also very affirmed in my decision. I was moving on when I needed to, and being accepted showed I was entering at the right time for these programs as well.
It started to get even more surprising, though, leading to a very difficult decision. UCLA was back in touch to let me know my name was put forward to receive a major financial award from the school, and then later let me know I was selected as a recipient. Penn State let me know I was one of seven students selected for a competitive college-wide assistantship, and the only student in Higher Education selected for next year. I scheduled phone calls with faculty and students at both schools for several weeks talking about the programs, learning about the differences in funding, and getting major questions answered about this decision. I knew it would be tough to turn either down as they were both offering a lot. I never knew I would be a competitive applicant (I had major doubts of this process even working out in any ideal fashion), so this became a huge surprise.
Ultimately, I went to visit UCLA and met a few other prospective students. I realized that I was in a very unique position to have funding and work lined up for the Fall, and along with the advisor to whom I was assigned, I knew which option was going to be best for me. It was very difficult though to write to the faculty at Penn State to let them know I was turning down their offer, especially the director of their research center who I could tell was excited about having another Higher Education student receive that special assistantship. But you can't do it all--decisions have to be made. I signed my intent to enroll in late March, and now I wait...
I'm excited to get started, but I'm sad to leave my current position! I'm going to miss the amazing students I've had the privilege to work with these past three years, and I will miss my amazing colleagues who have walked through some rewarding and challenging times with me. One thing I am extremely grateful for--I get to bring my #SAchat community with me! I'm so thankful for the internet and social media for creating new ways of establishing community. I also will be attending many conferences (a welcome change after three years of out-of-state travel restrictions) so I will have the opportunity to meet many of you IRL (in real life).
So pretty soon I'll be trading my life in the cooler, often rainier, Pacific Northwest (Seattle) for the sunny, fast-paced lifestyle of Southern California. While I'm not 100% enthused about living in Los Angeles, I'm excited to see what's in store. Stick around, I'll keep you "posted"!
Bryce
But the bigger news came the next week. In all I read about putting together doctoral applications, it is highly recommended to mention faculty with whom you would like to work. I actually did not do this, mainly because it felt like a gamble--many faculty have research interests related to each other's and I would end up picking the faculty who don't have room. While this may not be a recommended approach for applying, I have to say it worked out well for me in the end. The week after my first phone call, I received another (unknown, from an unknown area code) while sitting in a meeting.
I listened to the message after the meeting, and just about dropped my phone. "Hello, I am calling from UCLA to talk to you about admission to our program. Could you please call me back either tonight or tomorrow when you get a chance? I'll give you my home phone number as I will be working from home tomorrow. Thanks." The voice on the other end? A faculty researcher at UCLA who, to me, is like a celebrity in the field (and no, it was neither of the Astins). Very unexpected. I had that moment of, "Really, is she calling me? My cell phone? Not a wrong number? My name didn't mistakenly end up on someone else's application?"
What I heard when I reached her the next morning floored me: "I wanted to let you know that you have been accepted into our program, that I have been assigned your advisor, and I wanted to offer you a job as a graduate student researcher on one of my research projects." In one sentence, she laid out every single aspect of a PhD program I needed addressed in order to realistically pursue my degree. I wanted to go full time and work on research, so I needed research work and funding. Working on a research project pays tuition, fees, and a small stipend, so it felt good that I now had a very viable option. I was originally cautioned that UCLA was going to be competitive this Fall, and that my research interests may not align as well, so it was a pleasant and welcome surprise.
The next week I got a letter from Penn State. I originally thought they were declining admission, so it was a huge surprise to read I was accepted! I also received a call from a faculty member there inviting me to work on her research, and at that point I knew it was going to be a difficult decision. But at that point I was also very affirmed in my decision. I was moving on when I needed to, and being accepted showed I was entering at the right time for these programs as well.
It started to get even more surprising, though, leading to a very difficult decision. UCLA was back in touch to let me know my name was put forward to receive a major financial award from the school, and then later let me know I was selected as a recipient. Penn State let me know I was one of seven students selected for a competitive college-wide assistantship, and the only student in Higher Education selected for next year. I scheduled phone calls with faculty and students at both schools for several weeks talking about the programs, learning about the differences in funding, and getting major questions answered about this decision. I knew it would be tough to turn either down as they were both offering a lot. I never knew I would be a competitive applicant (I had major doubts of this process even working out in any ideal fashion), so this became a huge surprise.
Ultimately, I went to visit UCLA and met a few other prospective students. I realized that I was in a very unique position to have funding and work lined up for the Fall, and along with the advisor to whom I was assigned, I knew which option was going to be best for me. It was very difficult though to write to the faculty at Penn State to let them know I was turning down their offer, especially the director of their research center who I could tell was excited about having another Higher Education student receive that special assistantship. But you can't do it all--decisions have to be made. I signed my intent to enroll in late March, and now I wait...
I'm excited to get started, but I'm sad to leave my current position! I'm going to miss the amazing students I've had the privilege to work with these past three years, and I will miss my amazing colleagues who have walked through some rewarding and challenging times with me. One thing I am extremely grateful for--I get to bring my #SAchat community with me! I'm so thankful for the internet and social media for creating new ways of establishing community. I also will be attending many conferences (a welcome change after three years of out-of-state travel restrictions) so I will have the opportunity to meet many of you IRL (in real life).
So pretty soon I'll be trading my life in the cooler, often rainier, Pacific Northwest (Seattle) for the sunny, fast-paced lifestyle of Southern California. While I'm not 100% enthused about living in Los Angeles, I'm excited to see what's in store. Stick around, I'll keep you "posted"!
Bryce
Moving along, part 2
I didn't expect my story to go so long! But I love weaving tales, and I thought breaking it up might make it easier to read. So let's continue...
All of my applications required academic references, and I knew exactly who I wanted to ask. I emailed my faculty advisor, the one I worked with teaching theory, knowing she would be a great reference. She is fairly well-known in the field, and has been recognized as an emerging scholar in student affairs.
After I hit "Send," I remembered something she mentioned to me over the summer that could throw a huge wrench in obtaining references from her on time--she was pregnant, and due in October! She could potentially be unavailable until January, and she was one of my best references! Sure enough, no sooner than when the thought occurred to me, her out-of-office message appeared in my inbox. "Okay," I told myself, "I guess I won't be able to ask her. I will go ahead and ask the other faculty member in our program. I got to know him pretty well during my Master's program too."
So I emailed our other faculty member. Another out-of-office message--he was on Semester at Sea, and wouldn't be back until January! I began to panic a bit--how am I going to get a good academic reference when my only choices are not available--but decided to email him at his Semester at Sea address anyways. Then I had to go back to the drawing board and start thinking through other people I could ask--I gotta get these applications done!
Luckily, the next day, right after I finished a phone call with my mother thinking through some alternative references, I got an email from my faculty advisor. She had just had her baby, and she could provide references for me--just not a formal letter. Luckily, as most colleges have moved to electronic reference forms, the electronic form was going to work for her compared to writing a letter, and I felt like I was moving forward again. On the other hand, my faculty reference on Semester at Sea knew he couldn't complete electronic reference forms due to his inconsistent internet access. He offered to write a letter, and have his administrative assistant mail it to the schools as needed. All he needed me to do was email him my resume.
In November, I went to Orlando with my fiancee to meet his family and spend a week at Disney World (and the other theme parks in the area). Over that time, my first two applications were coming due--and my emails to my faculty reference on Semester at Sea were losing their attachments. We finally realized that it wasn't going to work, and I needed to utilize a backup reference to complete one of my applications. So picture this--my fiancee and I are on a bus to one of the Disney parks (standing, nonetheless, as the bus was full), and I'm using his iPhone to email my references and to manage my applications to make sure everything can come in on time. Life can come at you in unexpected ways! Thankfully technology can make a huge difference in your ability to navigate those bumps...
After getting the first two done (due December 1), the other four came together much easier. My last one due, for the University of Washington, was due in early January, and then the waiting game began...for a week. I heard back from a school for the first time the week following completing all my applications.
The decisions come in the exciting conclusion to this (now) three-part entry! Stay tuned...
Bryce
All of my applications required academic references, and I knew exactly who I wanted to ask. I emailed my faculty advisor, the one I worked with teaching theory, knowing she would be a great reference. She is fairly well-known in the field, and has been recognized as an emerging scholar in student affairs.
After I hit "Send," I remembered something she mentioned to me over the summer that could throw a huge wrench in obtaining references from her on time--she was pregnant, and due in October! She could potentially be unavailable until January, and she was one of my best references! Sure enough, no sooner than when the thought occurred to me, her out-of-office message appeared in my inbox. "Okay," I told myself, "I guess I won't be able to ask her. I will go ahead and ask the other faculty member in our program. I got to know him pretty well during my Master's program too."
So I emailed our other faculty member. Another out-of-office message--he was on Semester at Sea, and wouldn't be back until January! I began to panic a bit--how am I going to get a good academic reference when my only choices are not available--but decided to email him at his Semester at Sea address anyways. Then I had to go back to the drawing board and start thinking through other people I could ask--I gotta get these applications done!
Luckily, the next day, right after I finished a phone call with my mother thinking through some alternative references, I got an email from my faculty advisor. She had just had her baby, and she could provide references for me--just not a formal letter. Luckily, as most colleges have moved to electronic reference forms, the electronic form was going to work for her compared to writing a letter, and I felt like I was moving forward again. On the other hand, my faculty reference on Semester at Sea knew he couldn't complete electronic reference forms due to his inconsistent internet access. He offered to write a letter, and have his administrative assistant mail it to the schools as needed. All he needed me to do was email him my resume.
In November, I went to Orlando with my fiancee to meet his family and spend a week at Disney World (and the other theme parks in the area). Over that time, my first two applications were coming due--and my emails to my faculty reference on Semester at Sea were losing their attachments. We finally realized that it wasn't going to work, and I needed to utilize a backup reference to complete one of my applications. So picture this--my fiancee and I are on a bus to one of the Disney parks (standing, nonetheless, as the bus was full), and I'm using his iPhone to email my references and to manage my applications to make sure everything can come in on time. Life can come at you in unexpected ways! Thankfully technology can make a huge difference in your ability to navigate those bumps...
After getting the first two done (due December 1), the other four came together much easier. My last one due, for the University of Washington, was due in early January, and then the waiting game began...for a week. I heard back from a school for the first time the week following completing all my applications.
The decisions come in the exciting conclusion to this (now) three-part entry! Stay tuned...
Bryce
Moving along
As I mentioned on Twitter, I have some big news that I can finally share with everyone! Some major changes are in store for me, and I'm excited to be able to bring the #SAchat community along with me!
I was accepted into UCLA's PhD program in Higher Education and Organizational Change, full-time, starting Fall 2011! I'm very excited about the opportunity because getting into a full-time PhD program has long been a goal of mine, and I plan to exit a researcher and professor of higher education. I love working in student affairs, and I am going to miss the work I do, but I'm also excited to be moving along with my goals (my plan, as you may say) and am more than ready to take this next step.
And if you will, allow me to tell the story a bit...
Last summer, I felt like I was at a crossroads. I realized that I had just completed two years in my current position, and I remembered from discussions in my Master's program that 2-3 years into an entry-level position is a good point to start looking for greater responsibility. I began to reflect on my professional goals, and what my next step should look like.
My ultimate goal is to become a researcher and professor of higher education. I sharpened this goal during my Master's program, having been a graduate assistant in Seattle U's Center for Excellence in Teaching and Learning (faculty development office) and having completed an internship with my faculty advisor helping structure and teach our theory course. So the real question for me was: Do I continue working in student affairs and seek out an Assistant or Associate Director position before starting my PhD, or is now the time to apply and move that much closer to completing my goal? I wanted time between my Master's and PhD, particularly to gain experience as a practitioner before becoming a researcher. But how much time?
Ultimately, time was what made the decision for me. I sought out advice from a couple of my mentors, both of whom recommended I apply for PhD programs, but the real answer came from realizing I turn 30 in August of 2011. I will be 34+ when I finish a PhD, and I felt like I might appreciate not putting this decision off further when I reach commencement and start looking for faculty and research jobs. So I started making my list of schools.
I thought 3-4 would be perfect. I picked two school that I know have great reputations and are highly ranked in the field, and I picked two Jesuit universities as my Master's and Bachelor's are both from Jesuit universities. So far, my list went as thus:
UCLA
Penn State
Loyola Chicago
Boston College
From there, I was recommended to add Maryland to my list as a mentor of mine felt their program might better fit my research interests. My fiancee, who originally told me to apply wherever, started to realize that "wherever" would mean moving, asked me to consider staying in Seattle as an option. For him, I added the University of Washington.
At this point, I had six schools--more than I applied to for both my Master's and Bachelor's combined--but I felt confident about my list and I wanted to make sure I knew what options were out there for me going into this process. I created a couple spreadsheets on Google Docs to track all the materials I needed to gather for these applications, and set out asking for recommendations.
What happened next will start my next post, the continuation of my PhD story...
Bryce
I was accepted into UCLA's PhD program in Higher Education and Organizational Change, full-time, starting Fall 2011! I'm very excited about the opportunity because getting into a full-time PhD program has long been a goal of mine, and I plan to exit a researcher and professor of higher education. I love working in student affairs, and I am going to miss the work I do, but I'm also excited to be moving along with my goals (my plan, as you may say) and am more than ready to take this next step.
And if you will, allow me to tell the story a bit...
Last summer, I felt like I was at a crossroads. I realized that I had just completed two years in my current position, and I remembered from discussions in my Master's program that 2-3 years into an entry-level position is a good point to start looking for greater responsibility. I began to reflect on my professional goals, and what my next step should look like.
My ultimate goal is to become a researcher and professor of higher education. I sharpened this goal during my Master's program, having been a graduate assistant in Seattle U's Center for Excellence in Teaching and Learning (faculty development office) and having completed an internship with my faculty advisor helping structure and teach our theory course. So the real question for me was: Do I continue working in student affairs and seek out an Assistant or Associate Director position before starting my PhD, or is now the time to apply and move that much closer to completing my goal? I wanted time between my Master's and PhD, particularly to gain experience as a practitioner before becoming a researcher. But how much time?
Ultimately, time was what made the decision for me. I sought out advice from a couple of my mentors, both of whom recommended I apply for PhD programs, but the real answer came from realizing I turn 30 in August of 2011. I will be 34+ when I finish a PhD, and I felt like I might appreciate not putting this decision off further when I reach commencement and start looking for faculty and research jobs. So I started making my list of schools.
I thought 3-4 would be perfect. I picked two school that I know have great reputations and are highly ranked in the field, and I picked two Jesuit universities as my Master's and Bachelor's are both from Jesuit universities. So far, my list went as thus:
UCLA
Penn State
Loyola Chicago
Boston College
From there, I was recommended to add Maryland to my list as a mentor of mine felt their program might better fit my research interests. My fiancee, who originally told me to apply wherever, started to realize that "wherever" would mean moving, asked me to consider staying in Seattle as an option. For him, I added the University of Washington.
At this point, I had six schools--more than I applied to for both my Master's and Bachelor's combined--but I felt confident about my list and I wanted to make sure I knew what options were out there for me going into this process. I created a couple spreadsheets on Google Docs to track all the materials I needed to gather for these applications, and set out asking for recommendations.
What happened next will start my next post, the continuation of my PhD story...
Bryce
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
What not to wear
Kristen Abell posted about being able to wear jeans to work, and I replied how I was able to wear jeans any day. Kristen replied how the difference was likely due to the difference in our individual institutional settings and the expectations of our professional roles, which of course got me thinking about how diverse these expectations may be across student affairs at large.
What are your dress expectations for your professional role? How do they differ across our #SAchat community?
I remember it first came up for me when I transitioned from my undergrad institution (Gonzaga, GO ZAGS!) where I had been building up an LGBT Resource Center (as an AmeriCorps volunteer) to my Master's program at Seattle University. The people who worked in Student Development at SU seemed to be dressed "to the nines" every day. I know we were expected to dress professionally at Gonzaga, but it felt like the bar was noticeably raised in this new setting and I wanted to know why. I don't think there was a written or spoken rule about how well people needed to be dressed at work, but there was definitely a different feel. We assumed it was due to the number of people who had recently started working there who were transplants from the East Coast, so there definitely is a cultural aspect to it. And being in an urban environment, they probably interact with business and city leaders regularly which would dictate the need to look serious about your work.
After I graduated, I accepted a position a couple months later at a community college in a fairly rural suburb of Seattle. I remember interviewing for my current position. I was on campus for a few days in the process, and I wore a collared shirt, tie, and slacks each day I was there. When I finally got hired, taking a cue from what I observed about the college culture, I wore a sweater with a nice pair of jeans. The Dean saw me that day and told me, "It's nice to see you without a tie for a change."
Share your thoughts on student affairs dress expectations, particularly what your experience has been like.
Bryce
What are your dress expectations for your professional role? How do they differ across our #SAchat community?
I remember it first came up for me when I transitioned from my undergrad institution (Gonzaga, GO ZAGS!) where I had been building up an LGBT Resource Center (as an AmeriCorps volunteer) to my Master's program at Seattle University. The people who worked in Student Development at SU seemed to be dressed "to the nines" every day. I know we were expected to dress professionally at Gonzaga, but it felt like the bar was noticeably raised in this new setting and I wanted to know why. I don't think there was a written or spoken rule about how well people needed to be dressed at work, but there was definitely a different feel. We assumed it was due to the number of people who had recently started working there who were transplants from the East Coast, so there definitely is a cultural aspect to it. And being in an urban environment, they probably interact with business and city leaders regularly which would dictate the need to look serious about your work.
After I graduated, I accepted a position a couple months later at a community college in a fairly rural suburb of Seattle. I remember interviewing for my current position. I was on campus for a few days in the process, and I wore a collared shirt, tie, and slacks each day I was there. When I finally got hired, taking a cue from what I observed about the college culture, I wore a sweater with a nice pair of jeans. The Dean saw me that day and told me, "It's nice to see you without a tie for a change."
How might institutional setting dictate norms? Do they look different at community colleges, four-year public universities, and private colleges and universities? How does the external setting play a role? Does an urban environment demand something different than rural, or suburban? We often say that there are a multitude of subcultures across the United States; do different regions have different norms? What cultural norms come into play in invisibly dictating dress expectations?
Kristen also suggested that one factor that played a role in determining her dress expectations is her job description. Her job requires her to interact with local business and community leaders, which obviously means demonstrating a similar level of seriousness in conducting external affairs. My job is very hands-on with students, and the external constituents I work with are community agencies which serve disadvantaged youth. We all keep our dress more casual. How are yours dictated by job title/duties?
Some institutions will have more explicit policies. I know mine does have a policy expecting professionalism, but it is not much more specific than that. Does your institution lay out an explicit policy? How are they communicated to you?
And dress expectations lead into a deeper conversation about the ways power and privilege dictate how society expects us to behave. Gender, sex, race, class, sexual orientation, religion, and a myriad of other social memberships draw fairly rigid lines around what people are expected to wear in a professional setting. There was recently a tweet (and I can't tell you where I read it) asking about what "professionalism" looks like in queer communities. What underlying expectations and assumptions factor in both spoken and unspoken codes for appopriate professional attire? How does privilege play a role? Do we consider what we display to our students in selecting clothing? Do we consider how we demonstrate our values in what we choose to wear? What about gender performance expectations? Would someone subverting gender performance expectations, or someone with a transgender identity, feel marginalized by our spoken and unspoken dress codes? How about people of color? People from different religious affiliations?
Kristen also suggested that one factor that played a role in determining her dress expectations is her job description. Her job requires her to interact with local business and community leaders, which obviously means demonstrating a similar level of seriousness in conducting external affairs. My job is very hands-on with students, and the external constituents I work with are community agencies which serve disadvantaged youth. We all keep our dress more casual. How are yours dictated by job title/duties?
Some institutions will have more explicit policies. I know mine does have a policy expecting professionalism, but it is not much more specific than that. Does your institution lay out an explicit policy? How are they communicated to you?
And dress expectations lead into a deeper conversation about the ways power and privilege dictate how society expects us to behave. Gender, sex, race, class, sexual orientation, religion, and a myriad of other social memberships draw fairly rigid lines around what people are expected to wear in a professional setting. There was recently a tweet (and I can't tell you where I read it) asking about what "professionalism" looks like in queer communities. What underlying expectations and assumptions factor in both spoken and unspoken codes for appopriate professional attire? How does privilege play a role? Do we consider what we display to our students in selecting clothing? Do we consider how we demonstrate our values in what we choose to wear? What about gender performance expectations? Would someone subverting gender performance expectations, or someone with a transgender identity, feel marginalized by our spoken and unspoken dress codes? How about people of color? People from different religious affiliations?
Share your thoughts on student affairs dress expectations, particularly what your experience has been like.
Bryce
Friday, April 29, 2011
Let the games begin!
"Let the games begin!" as some may believe the final bullet point on ACPA President Heidi Levine's Consolidation vote blog post may mean. She wrote, "Collaborate with NASPA when appropriate, and compete with NASPA when appropriate." While the tone of the overall post was a little on the self-righteous side, it was the latter half of that statement which elicited great response on the #NASPACPA Twitter conversation, especially the word "compete."
In student affairs, we know collaboration. We collaborate with our colleagues, we collaborate with faculty, and we collaborate with students. Student affairs as a profession adheres to the maxim, "Two heads (or more) are better than one." Our graduate preparation programs particularly promote this doctrine, claiming it sets us apart from other programs which are (as we see it) more competitive and foster less trust. And with that context, it was a huge surprise to see the word "compete" in a post by one of our association presidents.
To me, it was refreshing. While it feels countercultural to say it, deep down we already know that our associations compete. But someone finally acknowledged that fact publicly. And that's okay. I think it's even more healthy that this "bad word" has been brought out into the light. I think it's a concept to bring more openly and more often into our student affairs lexicon. One great outcome from the result of this consolidation vote could be a broader discussion of the role competition plays--and could play--in student affairs.
Another "bad word" which emerged from the conversation which ensued following the announcement of the results was "confrontation." This one was not expressed as openly, but it definitely happened through the #NASPACPA Twitter feed. Many people expressed exactly how they felt about the vote--often in uncensored, unrestrained, and uncompromising ways. To some, particularly Stacy Oliver, this was seen as unprofessional and antithetical to the values of our profession. To me, it was another rare--and refreshing--moment where we abandoned restraint and spoke our minds exactly the way we were feeling.
In student affairs, we know collaboration. We collaborate with our colleagues, we collaborate with faculty, and we collaborate with students. Student affairs as a profession adheres to the maxim, "Two heads (or more) are better than one." Our graduate preparation programs particularly promote this doctrine, claiming it sets us apart from other programs which are (as we see it) more competitive and foster less trust. And with that context, it was a huge surprise to see the word "compete" in a post by one of our association presidents.
To me, it was refreshing. While it feels countercultural to say it, deep down we already know that our associations compete. But someone finally acknowledged that fact publicly. And that's okay. I think it's even more healthy that this "bad word" has been brought out into the light. I think it's a concept to bring more openly and more often into our student affairs lexicon. One great outcome from the result of this consolidation vote could be a broader discussion of the role competition plays--and could play--in student affairs.
Another "bad word" which emerged from the conversation which ensued following the announcement of the results was "confrontation." This one was not expressed as openly, but it definitely happened through the #NASPACPA Twitter feed. Many people expressed exactly how they felt about the vote--often in uncensored, unrestrained, and uncompromising ways. To some, particularly Stacy Oliver, this was seen as unprofessional and antithetical to the values of our profession. To me, it was another rare--and refreshing--moment where we abandoned restraint and spoke our minds exactly the way we were feeling.
Our profession could use a huge, healthy dose of confrontation. Of raw, unadulterated, even uncensored emotion. Sometimes I think we work too hard to be people pleasers, to make everyone happy, often to our own (and our students') detriment. I can agree with Stacy that using insults (like "stupid" or "selfish") is not productive in discussion and can damage relationships. But I don't agree with her that voices were "marginalized" in this discussion.
Now that I've had a little time to reflect on this matter, I think I can articulate myself a little better than I attempted via Twitter in 140 characters or fewer. The main reason I don't agree with her that people were "marginalized" is that everyone did speak their minds through the vote. (Frankly, the only marginalized voices were those of graduate students in NASPA, but that's for another time.) What happened on Twitter was not a marginalization but rather an outnumbering. I can see how it might have been intimidating to jump into the conversation when your viewpoint is the distinct minority of your community. But, in this instance, it was that minority that was able to speak the loudest--38% of NASPA was all it took to block consolidation--those voices were hardly marginalized.
(Side note: I will state that I agreed with the process. I think for such a major change to take place we should have been expected to reach a higher hurdle than a simple majority. I was disappointed with the outcome, but that's separate.)
Competition and confrontation happen in our field all the time, and most often we try to mask that fact for the sake of the comfort of our colleagues. The job search is competitive, but we try to cover that up by talking about "best fit." Student conduct is confrontational, but we try to hide that behind "opportunity for growth." Maybe every now and then we could name these for what they are--and learn and grow from those moments!
As someone who works in multicultural affairs, it reminds of the "safe space" problem: are we trying to create a space where it's safe to speak your mind, or an emotionally safe space that's concerned more about participants' comfort? To me, a safe space is a space where you can speak your truth, even if it's a difficult truth to hear. One of the major problems with diversity trainings and workshops is that we get too concerned about "safety" for the sake of "going there" and having a truly transformative learning experience. Maybe we ought to be open as professionals to being uncomfortable and being called out more often in our training and development. It may look and feel ugly to begin with, but letting it out could lead to far more productive dialogues in our field than "safety" and "politeness" ever have.
Competition and confrontation happen in our field all the time, and most often we try to mask that fact for the sake of the comfort of our colleagues. The job search is competitive, but we try to cover that up by talking about "best fit." Student conduct is confrontational, but we try to hide that behind "opportunity for growth." Maybe every now and then we could name these for what they are--and learn and grow from those moments!
As someone who works in multicultural affairs, it reminds of the "safe space" problem: are we trying to create a space where it's safe to speak your mind, or an emotionally safe space that's concerned more about participants' comfort? To me, a safe space is a space where you can speak your truth, even if it's a difficult truth to hear. One of the major problems with diversity trainings and workshops is that we get too concerned about "safety" for the sake of "going there" and having a truly transformative learning experience. Maybe we ought to be open as professionals to being uncomfortable and being called out more often in our training and development. It may look and feel ugly to begin with, but letting it out could lead to far more productive dialogues in our field than "safety" and "politeness" ever have.
To me, the major lesson from this vote is that we as a profession have a problem with conflict. Perhaps if we could invite more (healthy) competition and confrontation into our professional development (either structured or unstructured), and into our work, we will reap the benefits that come from the tremendous growth that follows conflict.
And as for #NASPACPA, it's coming. If 81% of ACPA and 62% of NASPA in 2011 believe in consolidation, those percentages are sure to increase. And the next time it comes to a vote, we will unite. Perhaps the lessons from this consolidation vote will make the actual consolidation that much greater.
Bryce
Bryce
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Blogger's Block
I realized the other day that for wanting to post once a week this year, I am desperately behind on my goal. My last post was in March. I think around the time my #SAchat colleagues headed to conferences my own motivation took an extended vacation. I've had different post ideas come to mind over the ensuing weeks since my last update, and a little pressure to force myself to post when I did not necessarily have something ready to write, but overall I've faced various psychological blocks in my attempt to maintain this blog.
Which brings me to the subject of this post. Lisa Endersby, who I have been getting to know virtually over the past few months and who has played a major role in keeping me reading, thinking, learning, and writing, recently suggested a blog "support group." In her latest blog post, she told the story of how this idea came to be. Overall, it's not about getting blog posts churned out. It's about the relationships and the mentorship that is happening in 140 characters (or fewer) on Twitter, and then how that expands to email, blogs, Skype chats, and eventually real-life meetings. But in this post she examines some of the blocks that keep her from posting, and I wanted to engage in a similar exercise. In what ways do I sabotage my own attempts to meet my blogging goals, dragging my blog into oblivion rather than building it up as a dynamic tool to augment my professional development? What are the half-truths I tell myself in my head to stop myself from writing that next post, for no productive reason?
Well, in an attempt to kill those half-truths and outright lies, I am going to post them here. Feel free to comment if you've dealt with similar anti-productive self-talk, and how you dispelled it. Some of what I tell myself:
I do know one major block has been a signficant occurrence in my personal life that I am not able to share publicly just yet, but has resided in most of my conscious reflection in the time since my last post. Either way, I know I have a lot I'd like to share, and if I can push back against those inner voices which stand in the way of me producing a more active blog, I am confident I can beat my blogger's block.
How do you beat blogger's block?
Bryce
Which brings me to the subject of this post. Lisa Endersby, who I have been getting to know virtually over the past few months and who has played a major role in keeping me reading, thinking, learning, and writing, recently suggested a blog "support group." In her latest blog post, she told the story of how this idea came to be. Overall, it's not about getting blog posts churned out. It's about the relationships and the mentorship that is happening in 140 characters (or fewer) on Twitter, and then how that expands to email, blogs, Skype chats, and eventually real-life meetings. But in this post she examines some of the blocks that keep her from posting, and I wanted to engage in a similar exercise. In what ways do I sabotage my own attempts to meet my blogging goals, dragging my blog into oblivion rather than building it up as a dynamic tool to augment my professional development? What are the half-truths I tell myself in my head to stop myself from writing that next post, for no productive reason?
Well, in an attempt to kill those half-truths and outright lies, I am going to post them here. Feel free to comment if you've dealt with similar anti-productive self-talk, and how you dispelled it. Some of what I tell myself:
- I don't want to deal with my slow laptop. (I often use a "recycled" iPhone as essentially an iPod Touch when WiFi is available rather than my 7-year old Dell Inspiron.)
- We're watching tv/a movie/etc tonight and I don't have time.
- I think my post idea is provocative, and I don't want to shy away from controversy, but I don't want to offend. (Which, considering the fact that I've written about how I don't shy away from controversy, is obviously just an excuse.)
- I don't think I've thought through my idea enough. (Could be a good reason, but not to avoid writing about it.)
- I don't know enough about the topic. (I'm too prone to want to write about issues, especially if I have a strong opinion, and not enough of my own reflections or about me.)
- I want to write a personal post, but I'm probably crossing the line between vulnerable and vain. (Isn't the internet a healthy mix of both?)
- This will probably be the post that makes me one of those internet horror stories, that my career will be over as soon as my future employers find it on Google. (Of course it can happen, but some of the ideas that ruminate in my head are incredibly benign and it's only self-doubt that causes me to believe they have the potential to come back and bite.)
I do know one major block has been a signficant occurrence in my personal life that I am not able to share publicly just yet, but has resided in most of my conscious reflection in the time since my last post. Either way, I know I have a lot I'd like to share, and if I can push back against those inner voices which stand in the way of me producing a more active blog, I am confident I can beat my blogger's block.
How do you beat blogger's block?
Bryce
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