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

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.

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.

Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

What I've Learned from (Half-) Marathon Training So Far...

When you are training for a long-distance race, like my upcoming half-marathon, you find yourself with lots of time to think and reflect, especially upon the training process itself. Every other Saturday I ramp up my training and push myself to complete a progressively longer "long run" as Race Day approaches. This means I also get progressively longer periods of time to reflect as I run, typically thinking long and hard about the task at hand. And, first running 4 miles, and then 5 this past Saturday, I got to thinking about what I've been learning throughout this process--and how that might apply to other areas of my life.

First, I found I'm learning quite about persistence (or maybe it's tenacity?). On the mornings that I'm simply trying to put in 30 minutes of running, I've begun to look less and less forward to the tedium of running that same little bit as I just want it done, like a routine exercise. On the mornings that I'm pushing myself to do a longer run, I realize that the farther the distance I set out to complete, the much longer the time I spend in the activity of running. At a rate of 1 mile per 10 minutes, progressively pushing myself toward 13.1 miles means some days I will be running for longer than an hour--quite a bit of time for me to be engaged solely in one activity with ample time to daydream, and to think about how long it has been since I started. The real task in completing long distance is the mental task of not letting your psychology overtake your desire to complete your goal, and so I continually push myself to focus my thoughts toward keeping going, and not toward how much I'd like to be finished. I can see this sometimes with other tedious and routine tasks in my life--at work, at home (chores!), in my community involvement--and that a great deal of learning to persist toward one's goals involves learning how to love the journey--or at least of keeping your sight focused on the goal and continually committing yourself to getting there.

The most difficult aspect of my training regimen is the part where I get up, get dressed, and get out the door. I used to run in the evenings, but I've noticed that it's not as effective for me (mentally in particular) to try to train after a full day of work (and commuting). I have much better energy in the morning to complete a successful run, I feel much better throughout the day having run first thing in the morning, and I sleep a little better when I don't run as close to the end of the day. But that moment that my alarm goes off is a point in the day many of us dread--I'm not feeling the external pressure to leap out of bed to rush out the door to work, it's all an internal motivation to get out of bed as early as I do to ensure I get my run in before I start my day. But once I've pushed myself to get up, get dressed, and start my warm up walk, all of a sudden I'm raring to go. Getting started--taking that first step toward reaching a goal can be the most challenging aspect of the entire process--my life has been successful to this point; maybe it's not so bad if I don't achieve this one thing. But once you take that small first step--and for me, five minutes of walking to warm up for my run is a fantastic first step that I've learned gets me going--all of a sudden your major mental blocks start to clear and you're ready to continue your progress toward your goal. (This works with house-cleaning too; once you've accomplished one cleaning task you're ready to start another. It's weird.) And once you've overcome that one hurdle--in my case, finishing another successful 30 minute maintenance run--you feel ready to attack another. (Granted, in race training, it makes no sense to immediately start another 30 minute run. But for housecleaning, once you've loaded the dishwasher, wouldn't it feel great to wipe down the counters?) The biggest mental block in accomplishing something is at the start--but once you discipline yourself to start, clearing a small hurdle can motivate you to complete the major task at hand.

A well-laid plan toward achieving some goal can make that goal seem far more attainable. Sometimes we set goals for ourselves in areas we are already familiar, so we alter the path we used to reach a previous goal to fit our new plans. But more often than not, setting a goal means achieving something new, and in my case, the furthest I've ever run in my life was 3 miles on a track. When my fiancée approached me about setting a goal of running a marathon, I needed a) the confidence that I could realistically reach this goal in my life and b) some advice on the best way to prepare. Reading works very well for me, so immediately I went to a book store and picked up a copy of Marathoning for Mortals, on the bookstore staff member's recommendation. While I was reading, I focused on building up my running endurance (slowly) and took mental notes on items to remember when it came time to train for distance. After not too long I sat down and mapped out a training plan, and started tracking my progress. Often, when I'm not feeling motivated to run, all I have to do is convince myself to "make this week a good training week," and sure enough, come Saturday, it has been. Having a plan, breaking down larger goals into smaller parts, and keeping the deadline in sight are all crucial components of the goal-setting process. The other piece of advice from the book was to realize that one cannot expect a training plan to remain set in stone; as Stacy Oliver recently posted, life happens, and your plan will have to respond. One thing the book assured me--even if you have to skip one day, it will not throw off your overall goal, just get back on the schedule as soon as you can. And no single template fits all--you have to determine, to experiment, and see what type of plan will work for you to be successful.

I think the most significant thing I've learned (so far) from my half-marathon training is how I can push myself to do more than I ever thought I could. Perhaps I'm only now successfully training for the race because of other successes throughout my life, but I'm finding the little I push myself further every other Saturday to go farther the more 13.1 miles is feeling like an attainable distance for me. After I completed my 4 mile run a few weeks ago, I had the realization that 4 miles was officially the longest distance I've ever run at once in my entire life. I was very proud of what I accomplished, and started to look toward my next long run of 5 miles as a way of breaking my personal best. Sure enough, days before my 5-mile run I started to get anxious about completing that distance. "Well, I knew I could run 3 miles, so 4 was probably in reach, but I'm worried 5 might be beyond what I can accomplish." But I got up on that Saturday, got ready, and started my warm-up walk. There was a point in the middle of the run that I started to realize just how much further I was pushing myself, and with long-distance running it really means a much longer run duration; my training materials emphasized maintaining a pace where you don't tire yourself out. But as I persisted, overcame the obstacles of a longer run duration and a few hills, all of a sudden I rounded the corner toward the last few blocks, and realized that I had done it. Now 5 miles is now officially the longest I've ever run in my life, and with the experience of advancing from 4 to 5 miles behind me, I feel far more confident in being able to reach my next distance goal (which I believe is 6, close to half the distance I will eventually be racing).

One of the main reasons I've been thinking about all of this is a different upcoming transition in my life that will involve reaching a goal that very few people in the world ever will--starting my PhD program. For the most part, thinking about my doctorate has me extremely excited. This was within my plan from the beginning, and it feels great to be taking a next step in my professional and educational journey. And attending our commencement this year, looking at photos from other commencements, and Googling what the UC doctoral robes will look like have me daydreaming of what it will feel like to be at the end. But in the meantime, I begin thinking about all the work ahead, the classes, the research, the dissertation, the mental shift in how I approach my work, and it starts to feel a bit overwhelming. Starting the application process was a major first step--I'm sure many of you who have gone through the application process, whether for your Master's or your doctorate, feel the same way (asking for recommendations and writing a personal statement can take some energy!)--but now I've made a commitment to do this work, and at the doctoral level I set a great deal of my timetable for completion. As I work toward this half-marathon, a distance I don't think I ever imagined myself running, and possibly a marathon one day, I'm realizing that the self-efficacy I'm building in reaching these goals may help me persist through and complete my doctorate, on my time table, pushed by my own self-motivation.

How do you prepare for the half-marathons and marathons in your life? What sort of goal setting advice would you give others? How do you motivate yourself to achieve?

Bryce

Monday, June 6, 2011

Student Affairs in Multicultural Affairs

Back in April, Vijay Pendakur, Director of the Office of Multicultural Student Success at DePaul University, posed a few questions on his blog regarding the link between working in multicultural student affairs and student affairs professional preparation Master's programs. As a graduate of a student affairs preparation program (SDA '08, Seattle University) working in multicultural student affairs (Program Support Supervisor for Commencement Achievement Program in the Office of Diversity and Multicultural Affairs at Green River Community College), these questions caused me to reflect on my experience. How would I answer these questions? What kind of advice would I give current graduate students hoping to work in diversity and multicultural affairs after graduation?

(Vijay's words are italicized; my responses are not.)

1. How many masters programs in higher education, student development, or educational leadership offer one or more courses to prepare students to work in Multicultural Student Affairs? To be more specific, how many masters programs effectively teach graduate students about the key issues, theories, and practices that inform successful work in a Multicultural Affairs department? A best practice would be programs that interweave this knowledge throughout their core curriculum, rather than compartmentalizing this set of issues into one course. Have any of you attended a program that does this well? Let us know!

To begin, I want to clarify how I view the role of a Student Affairs or Higher Education Master's program in the professional preparation of student affairs practitioners. I do not believe that our Master's programs are specifically and exclusively designed to be a credential for working in student affairs. Otherwise, we may as well offer them as smaller certification programs instead. So to say that any would offer courses specifically designed to train students for work in multicultural student affairs would mean that we ought to provide a variety of courses that focus on the functions of student affairs and lead us back to whether our Master's programs should not simply be offered as credentialing programs and not full-fledged Master's degrees.

I also think it begs the question about how permeable the boundaries between student affairs functional areas should or should not be--how hard should it be for a professional wishing to work in a different functional area to break into that functional area? I think there are specific skills and content domains that are exclusive to each functional area, but I don't think our programs should delineate themselves into molding every student into one area or another (internships, assistantships, and practicums do allow students to specialize).

So I definitely agree with the latter point that a best practice would be a program that interweaves this information throughout. And a start would be a theory class that makes sure racial, sexual orientation, gender, and other identity development is a required theory to learn for successful course completion. Another would be a program that actively fosters the development of cultural competence. Many professionals successfully run diversity and multicultural affairs offices without student affairs degrees, so I wouldn't say that it should be a requirement, but a student affairs professional has to know there is a specific content domain for working in diversity and multicultural affairs and that person should be willing to be open to learning as much about diversity and equity as possible. (I would hope most people working in student affairs already are anyways.)

2. How many masters programs in higher education have structured graduate assistantships or practicums in their universities’ Multicultural Affairs or diversity-focused offices? Without this type of practical experience, it will be difficult for newly minted student affairs grads to compete for coordinator positions in Multicultural Affairs departments.

To me, assistantships, practicums, and internships are the best way for prospective multicultural student affairs professionals to learn about the relevant practices and issues facing these programs in higher education. As I mentioned earlier, learning key theories and developing important cultural competence skills, knowledge, and attitudes is within the domain of the classroom, but understanding how to do the work of a multicultural student affairs professional is the work of the apprentice. I took required classes in Social Justice and Multiculturalism for my Master's degree, but I learned a lot more about the practical side of working in multicultural student affairs by interning in Seattle University's Office of Multicultural Affairs.

To me, the real treasure of completing a student affairs preparation program is the opportunity to link theory to practice through having side-by-side experiences exploring college student development (and college administration) from an academic (theoretical) standpoint and from a practical standpoint. We are not simply learning about how to work with college students and how to work in a higher education environment--we are also learning to change the way we think about issues and the way we learn about the world around us. We develop new research skills for taking in and evaluating information, and we develop new perspectives for understanding systems from macro- and micro-levels. As I mentioned earlier, we call it a Master's program for a reason, but future professionals do need to understand what these concepts look like in practice.

It reminds me of a point my classmates would reiterate whenever asked about what topic would they want to learn more in the program. They would state time and again that they did not learn enough about budgeting. Yet I had this conversation with mentors of mine who had experience working as Directors and Vice Presidents in student affairs to see their perspective on the matter, and they always told me it was something they learned from experience, and it was very little different than managing a checkbook. There are just some topics--like managing a program budget--that would not be addressed well in the classroom but could be covered well through a practical experience. (On this note, one of my mentors mentioned learning how to budget is more about establishing priorities than it is managing money, which makes me think it would be a great topic for a Leadership and Governance class...)

3. What conferences should graduate students and new professionals attend to learn more about the core competencies and best practices in Multicultural Student Affairs? I hear from my colleagues in residential education that going to NASPA and ACPA is great for broad professional development, but that they get the most useful material for their work in residential education from the ACUHO conference (or their local CUHO conference). I often hear staff in orientation offices saying that they get enormous value out of NODA, similar to our conduct officers’ remarks about ASCA. This spring, I am going to the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity (NCORE) for the first time. Is NCORE the conference to advance the core competencies, best practices and skill-sets of our field? I’ll definitely let you know after I get back from the conference this June!

I've wondered the same thing myself--where are our functional area professional organizations? In Washington State, under our State Board for Community and Technical Colleges, we have a Student Services Commission that oversees a number of smaller councils. One of those is the Multicultural Student Services Directors' Council, made up of all the directors of diversity offices at our 34 community and technical colleges. Participation isn't limited to directors though, and there is an annual Students of Color Conference hosted by the council in which many folks from around the state participate. Each of the national student affairs organizations, NASPA and ACPA, have Standing Committees/Knowledge Communities for multicultural student affairs. (My favorite so far is ACPA's Commission for Social Justice Educators as they have a very active listserv that shares invaluable resources.) Yet there are no specially designated conferences or professional organizations for multicultural student affairs professionals (that I can identify). Vijay may be right on the role of NCORE in meeting this need--I've heard the same assertion myself--maybe he will have more insight posted to his blog on this matter as NCORE wrapped up this past weekend.

As someone who is interested in the education, training, and formation of student affairs practitioners (and soon to be Higher Education professor/researcher), I love discussing this topic with my colleagues. What are your thoughts on the matter? How did your Master's program play a part in your professional formation? What role should Master's preparation programs play in the formation of future student affairs practitioners? Feel free to leave your thoughts

Bryce
Follow me on Twitter: @BryceEHughes

Friday, May 27, 2011

Faith in Student Affairs

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 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