I had cause to call our Human Resources office today, to check on something re the interdisciplinary basketweaving hire. Holy Cow.
I see, day to day, the difficulties in my department from the budget cuts. I hear from friends in other departments, too. I talk to students, and know they're having problems getting courses, despite everyone's best efforts to keep things as good as possible for our students.
But I didn't think so much about how much difficulty HR is in. First, I have to acknowledge that a good, experienced HR person is pretty employable all over the place. It's not like a Shakespeare person, where there are 15 to 25 jobs in a year to apply to, all at once. Nope, an HR person who's good (and ours are, pretty much. Or were.) puts out feelers, and before long, they have another job lined up, one that probably pays better than ours. And off they go.
So, the interdisciplinary basketweaving hire problem is, I hope, on its way to being solved. I expressed my sympathies for the overworked HR person.
I know there's administrative bloat. At NWU, there's a bunch of people whose basic jobs are to make work for other people, making extra paperwork, making assessment rules and then changing them mid-stream, and so on. (We've now combined a few of those, thanks to some retirements and people taking other jobs.) Their other job is to create acronyms to make it difficult for anyone to understand what they're doing. This they call "accountability." We're supposed to be accountable for how long it takes our majors to graduate. Should we not accept students who switch into the major as juniors? How about if we didn't accept students who can only take 12 credits a semester because they're working full time?
But at the basic level of people necessary to running an institution, those folks are really hurting here.
In, what, three years, the governor and legislature have shattered a university system that was pretty darned good, to the extent that even if they totally changed their attitudes right now, it would take 10 years to rebuild. Of course, as far as they're concerned, this is a feature, not a bug. They went in intending to devastate the university, and they've accomplished a lot.
I think one of our teaching units may lose accreditation from it's official area organization. That could devastate it. What student would come here for that area if the unit isn't accredited?
Showing posts with label budget crisis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label budget crisis. Show all posts
Friday, June 17, 2016
Friday, May 13, 2016
Schedule This!
In addition to the usual end of the semester mix of grading jail, student panics, and tiredness, I've got the special joys of calling references and setting up long-distance interviews with candidates.
The committee laid out times for interviews, and naturally, our schedules don't overlap nicely. Then I started setting up interviews. The candidates all were very cooperative, and we managed, but some are quite busy with teaching and stuffs, and they can't drop everything for an interview.
I started calling the references on my list. I got hold of one person right away, and they were really excited to talk about the candidate, and it was great. I thought to myself, hey, this is way easier than I thought it would be! Then I tried the next person on the list, and the number took me to a veterinary school person. And I looked on line, and the number I found listed there took me somewhere else. Then I looked on line and called the department office, and they told me that the person wasn't around because classes are already over, and I should email. So I did. And that's pretty much how the rest of my calls went.
When I worked as a receptionist, I learned very quickly to answer the phone "Good [morning/afternoon], [Business Name], how may I help you?" I still do a variation. My calls to different departments and such trying to get hold of referees has reminded me that answering the phone with something more helpful than "yeah" does matter. It also helps if the on-line directory has the right phone numbers. (Fancy Pants U, I'm looking at you about both of those!)
Also, if you're going to set up one of those automatic "out of office" messages, put some words there. I got return emails that were totally empty.
Fortunately, the references are all enthusiastic about their candidates, got in touch, and I've now talked with all but one, and we have an appointment to talk on Monday.
But holy cow, it takes a lot of time.
***
We made some national news outlets this week, and not in a good way. We're in the midst of a variety of political moves, led by our tireless union folks, who can't bargain on our behalf, but are doing good organizing work. Who knows, maybe we'll make the news in a better way next week?
The committee laid out times for interviews, and naturally, our schedules don't overlap nicely. Then I started setting up interviews. The candidates all were very cooperative, and we managed, but some are quite busy with teaching and stuffs, and they can't drop everything for an interview.
I started calling the references on my list. I got hold of one person right away, and they were really excited to talk about the candidate, and it was great. I thought to myself, hey, this is way easier than I thought it would be! Then I tried the next person on the list, and the number took me to a veterinary school person. And I looked on line, and the number I found listed there took me somewhere else. Then I looked on line and called the department office, and they told me that the person wasn't around because classes are already over, and I should email. So I did. And that's pretty much how the rest of my calls went.
When I worked as a receptionist, I learned very quickly to answer the phone "Good [morning/afternoon], [Business Name], how may I help you?" I still do a variation. My calls to different departments and such trying to get hold of referees has reminded me that answering the phone with something more helpful than "yeah" does matter. It also helps if the on-line directory has the right phone numbers. (Fancy Pants U, I'm looking at you about both of those!)
Also, if you're going to set up one of those automatic "out of office" messages, put some words there. I got return emails that were totally empty.
Fortunately, the references are all enthusiastic about their candidates, got in touch, and I've now talked with all but one, and we have an appointment to talk on Monday.
But holy cow, it takes a lot of time.
***
We made some national news outlets this week, and not in a good way. We're in the midst of a variety of political moves, led by our tireless union folks, who can't bargain on our behalf, but are doing good organizing work. Who knows, maybe we'll make the news in a better way next week?
Saturday, April 09, 2016
Looking for Dr. Right
I offered to chair a search committee. We're searching for a one-year appointment in [not really my field] and someone needed to step up and be willing to do the work, and I am. So there goes.
I know a one-year appointment isn't great. And our location isn't great. And the state of politics isn't great. And we're going to give this person a big load of teaching, too.
But there it is.
[Not really my field] is a fairly small area of study, though, and we're hoping to get someone good for the year, in the way that one hopes for. So, as chair, I looked up some schools with PhD programs in the area and sent out some emails to grad directors, pointing out the ad, acknowledging that one year isn't ideal, but asking them to let their students know.
I did that yesterday in the late afternoon. By this morning, I've received a variety of polite to enthusiastic emails from about half the grad directors. I guess I'd expected silence, maybe, or a curt reply at best, so the general kind tone of the emails is a nice surprise. Maybe it shouldn't be, because of course the job market for their students is really hard in the way it is for small fields.
***
We're devastated around here. Last year, in response to budget cuts, we lost about 15% of our overall paid folks (that includes administrators, support staff, and instructional folks). This year, the official word last month was that 25 instructional folks are leaving (I think that only includes tenured and tenure-track people, but I'm not sure). I expect that we haven't heard the last of the departures. So far, I'm surprised I haven't heard more in Underwater Basketweaving.
I know a one-year appointment isn't great. And our location isn't great. And the state of politics isn't great. And we're going to give this person a big load of teaching, too.
But there it is.
[Not really my field] is a fairly small area of study, though, and we're hoping to get someone good for the year, in the way that one hopes for. So, as chair, I looked up some schools with PhD programs in the area and sent out some emails to grad directors, pointing out the ad, acknowledging that one year isn't ideal, but asking them to let their students know.
I did that yesterday in the late afternoon. By this morning, I've received a variety of polite to enthusiastic emails from about half the grad directors. I guess I'd expected silence, maybe, or a curt reply at best, so the general kind tone of the emails is a nice surprise. Maybe it shouldn't be, because of course the job market for their students is really hard in the way it is for small fields.
***
We're devastated around here. Last year, in response to budget cuts, we lost about 15% of our overall paid folks (that includes administrators, support staff, and instructional folks). This year, the official word last month was that 25 instructional folks are leaving (I think that only includes tenured and tenure-track people, but I'm not sure). I expect that we haven't heard the last of the departures. So far, I'm surprised I haven't heard more in Underwater Basketweaving.
Thursday, November 05, 2015
Budget Bust in Person
I went to the local hardware store. It's one of those sort of hole in the wall hardware stores, run by an older guy who seems to know just about everything hardware related, and who seems to be a mentor to the usually high school kids working part-time. It's a great store. I usually get in there one a month, more or less, usually to pick up something smallish, garden gloves maybe, fertilizer, or, this time, a small metal file.
Because I had no idea where such files would be, I stopped at the checkout counter to ask. But I was surprised to see one of our former adjuncts working the counter. And having a problem with the register or something. The older mentor guy was there, gently guiding him to figure out the problem, while another customer waited.
The adjunct and I said hi, and I waited. And then when he'd figured it out, we had a short chat.
This particular adjunct didn't get rehired some four or five years ago, I think because he just wasn't a great teacher, though he was always a nice person. His partner was a significantly better teacher, a real go-getter, who wasn't rehired in the recent round of budget horrors. The partner has, it seems, landed a decent job managing or training for a company that has some local truck stops.
And this guy is working the checkout at a hardware store. He's probably in his 50s, and seemed new at the hardware store, and seemed embarrassed that I'd come in while he was having difficulty with the register.
And I was embarrassed because I still have a job at NWU, and those two don't. It's not like I think I could have done anything to keep them both hired, but I still felt embarrassed.
Because I had no idea where such files would be, I stopped at the checkout counter to ask. But I was surprised to see one of our former adjuncts working the counter. And having a problem with the register or something. The older mentor guy was there, gently guiding him to figure out the problem, while another customer waited.
The adjunct and I said hi, and I waited. And then when he'd figured it out, we had a short chat.
This particular adjunct didn't get rehired some four or five years ago, I think because he just wasn't a great teacher, though he was always a nice person. His partner was a significantly better teacher, a real go-getter, who wasn't rehired in the recent round of budget horrors. The partner has, it seems, landed a decent job managing or training for a company that has some local truck stops.
And this guy is working the checkout at a hardware store. He's probably in his 50s, and seemed new at the hardware store, and seemed embarrassed that I'd come in while he was having difficulty with the register.
And I was embarrassed because I still have a job at NWU, and those two don't. It's not like I think I could have done anything to keep them both hired, but I still felt embarrassed.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Everything Has Changed
We faculty folks were protected a bit from the budget fallout this fall, because courses had been long scheduled and students signed up for courses before the worst came down on us. About half of our adjuncts in our department were laid off, but the chair and dean jiggered things to make the first year writing courses survive with relatively small enrollments (20 for each) though there are fewer sections.*
We lit (broadly defined) folks just voted to change what our majors need to graduate, loosening up the breadth requirements considerably. This follows the news that we'll be offering only 8 upper level lit courses a term; instead, most of us will be teaching general ed courses, and we'll up the enrollment caps a bit, and that's how we'll survive as a department. At least, that's the hope. With our numbers, it means we'll each teach about one upper level course a year, three lower level, and two first year writing. (In the past, most of us taught one upper, one lower, and one writing every semester, for an 11 credit load.) The talk is that we're going to rotate based on faculty rather than period.
For me, it means I'll probably never teach Chaucer again, because I can't see choosing that over an early modern course for every other year. And I can't see teaching it well if I do it only every fourth year.
We have four people (for now, one is nearing retirement) who teach lit before 1800 (roughly) on either side of the Atlantic, and 11 who teach lit after 1800, all but one mostly Americanists, mostly 20th century, with fairly strong representation of folks who teach ethnic literatures. As a result, there will be semesters when, if the one retires, there will be no earlier lit taught at the upper levels. There will likely be semesters when three out of four courses are 20th century American lit.
We hired because we assumed things would stay sort of the same, and we were wrong. So our fairly strong representation in ethnic literatures is great in that students will have opportunities to learn some great literature, but makes the 20th century feel a bit overloaded.
*It was some very creative, and not unreasonable jiggering, truth be told. I've seen some folks across campus come up with very creative solutions. A bunch of general ed type courses are being offered through our extension arm; they look the same to our resident students, but they're paid for differently. It takes money from the college because there's some tuition that goes to the extension arm, so the college doesn't like it. But the college wants the courses taught for the big general ed needs, and the college doesn't want to pay instructors (often adjuncts) to teach them, and the departments/programs haven't been allowed to hire tenure track folks to teach them and the major/minor courses, so the tenure line folks are mostly teaching courses for majors/minors.
What the college really wants is for the tenure line people to teach big gen eds, and for the small majors/minors to disappear. Some of those small majors/minors are exactly the ones you think: those based on ethnic, gender, sexuality. Others, not quite what you'd think.
We lit (broadly defined) folks just voted to change what our majors need to graduate, loosening up the breadth requirements considerably. This follows the news that we'll be offering only 8 upper level lit courses a term; instead, most of us will be teaching general ed courses, and we'll up the enrollment caps a bit, and that's how we'll survive as a department. At least, that's the hope. With our numbers, it means we'll each teach about one upper level course a year, three lower level, and two first year writing. (In the past, most of us taught one upper, one lower, and one writing every semester, for an 11 credit load.) The talk is that we're going to rotate based on faculty rather than period.
For me, it means I'll probably never teach Chaucer again, because I can't see choosing that over an early modern course for every other year. And I can't see teaching it well if I do it only every fourth year.
We have four people (for now, one is nearing retirement) who teach lit before 1800 (roughly) on either side of the Atlantic, and 11 who teach lit after 1800, all but one mostly Americanists, mostly 20th century, with fairly strong representation of folks who teach ethnic literatures. As a result, there will be semesters when, if the one retires, there will be no earlier lit taught at the upper levels. There will likely be semesters when three out of four courses are 20th century American lit.
We hired because we assumed things would stay sort of the same, and we were wrong. So our fairly strong representation in ethnic literatures is great in that students will have opportunities to learn some great literature, but makes the 20th century feel a bit overloaded.
*It was some very creative, and not unreasonable jiggering, truth be told. I've seen some folks across campus come up with very creative solutions. A bunch of general ed type courses are being offered through our extension arm; they look the same to our resident students, but they're paid for differently. It takes money from the college because there's some tuition that goes to the extension arm, so the college doesn't like it. But the college wants the courses taught for the big general ed needs, and the college doesn't want to pay instructors (often adjuncts) to teach them, and the departments/programs haven't been allowed to hire tenure track folks to teach them and the major/minor courses, so the tenure line folks are mostly teaching courses for majors/minors.
What the college really wants is for the tenure line people to teach big gen eds, and for the small majors/minors to disappear. Some of those small majors/minors are exactly the ones you think: those based on ethnic, gender, sexuality. Others, not quite what you'd think.
Monday, September 28, 2015
A Simple Call
I took on being chair of a special program curriculum committee. The special program is interdisciplinary, but doesn't have department status, and so depends on the willingness of others to serve on its committees and teach many of its courses. I'm not a specialist by any means, but I'm interested and willing, so here I am.
In tight budget times, special programs are easy to cut down or ax altogether because there's no one with real power and utter commitment to speak against it, especially if the alternative is "my" department (any of the departments with interested folks). And so, the special program needs to look seriously at its course array, several of which serve as vital courses in general education, and see if it can condense some things, do some things a bit less without totally making a hash for the students.
And the curriculum committee is an obvious place to start this discussion (which then must go to a wider body). And in order to start the discussion, we need to have a clear sense of what's been happening.
So I asked for a couple of things.
First, a list of our courses and enrollments for the past several semesters. What have we taught, and how many students have we taught in those courses.
I asked the program leader if we could get that information, and was told that no, the only way would be to go through the computerized class search and search for each course individually and copy out the numbers. Hmmm. But surely, someone knows how many students have been in each course, especially when those courses serve major GE needs, right?
The curriculum committee is also responsible for curricular review; every course on campus is supposed to be reviewed every five years, and a review filed with a college committee. Early last week, so, second, I asked the program leader and last year's curriculum committee chair if they had the information, and the previous chair said she'd send it right away.
That was early last week, with the leader finally emailing me some information (and the no about the other) on Saturday afternoon.
So this morning, I called the office staffer over in the college office, since they get our reviews and tell us what is due for review. Within ten minutes, she emailed me the information (and also emailed the chair from last year, who almost as quickly sent me an email to tell me that there was special information I needed to know about the late reviews so we need to meet urgently!). She also told me that while she didn't have the enrollment information, the person to talk to in the enrollment office would.
So I called the enrollment office, and the person there directed me to an online request form, and by the time I got back from teaching, she'd given me the full information. And also sent me a not quite snarky email that the program leader already had access to the information.
I'm sometimes a bit of a bull in a china shop, if you know what I mean. But I know the effective office staffers in enough offices that I can call and get help, and voila, I get information. (This isn't highly classified stuff at all. This is stuff we should have easily to hand.)
So here's the thing. This program is pretty low priority for most of us most of the time. It would help a lot if someone else would do the work. And that really shows. You know? But if the program is to survive, then we actually have to make it a priority. And if that's not worth doing, then we should let it go.
That sucks, but that's how things are in tough budget times.
The previous committee chair complained a lot about how much work she had to do, so I offered to take this on. I'm pretty sure it's a fair bit of work, but I'm also pretty sure that I'm reasonably efficient about the sort of work involved. Unfortunately, I can also be a bit of a bull in a china shop, and I need to rein that in to work with this committee as effectively as possible.
In tight budget times, special programs are easy to cut down or ax altogether because there's no one with real power and utter commitment to speak against it, especially if the alternative is "my" department (any of the departments with interested folks). And so, the special program needs to look seriously at its course array, several of which serve as vital courses in general education, and see if it can condense some things, do some things a bit less without totally making a hash for the students.
And the curriculum committee is an obvious place to start this discussion (which then must go to a wider body). And in order to start the discussion, we need to have a clear sense of what's been happening.
So I asked for a couple of things.
First, a list of our courses and enrollments for the past several semesters. What have we taught, and how many students have we taught in those courses.
I asked the program leader if we could get that information, and was told that no, the only way would be to go through the computerized class search and search for each course individually and copy out the numbers. Hmmm. But surely, someone knows how many students have been in each course, especially when those courses serve major GE needs, right?
The curriculum committee is also responsible for curricular review; every course on campus is supposed to be reviewed every five years, and a review filed with a college committee. Early last week, so, second, I asked the program leader and last year's curriculum committee chair if they had the information, and the previous chair said she'd send it right away.
That was early last week, with the leader finally emailing me some information (and the no about the other) on Saturday afternoon.
So this morning, I called the office staffer over in the college office, since they get our reviews and tell us what is due for review. Within ten minutes, she emailed me the information (and also emailed the chair from last year, who almost as quickly sent me an email to tell me that there was special information I needed to know about the late reviews so we need to meet urgently!). She also told me that while she didn't have the enrollment information, the person to talk to in the enrollment office would.
So I called the enrollment office, and the person there directed me to an online request form, and by the time I got back from teaching, she'd given me the full information. And also sent me a not quite snarky email that the program leader already had access to the information.
I'm sometimes a bit of a bull in a china shop, if you know what I mean. But I know the effective office staffers in enough offices that I can call and get help, and voila, I get information. (This isn't highly classified stuff at all. This is stuff we should have easily to hand.)
So here's the thing. This program is pretty low priority for most of us most of the time. It would help a lot if someone else would do the work. And that really shows. You know? But if the program is to survive, then we actually have to make it a priority. And if that's not worth doing, then we should let it go.
That sucks, but that's how things are in tough budget times.
The previous committee chair complained a lot about how much work she had to do, so I offered to take this on. I'm pretty sure it's a fair bit of work, but I'm also pretty sure that I'm reasonably efficient about the sort of work involved. Unfortunately, I can also be a bit of a bull in a china shop, and I need to rein that in to work with this committee as effectively as possible.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Tenure for Sale?
The other day, a lot of faculty folks around here got a questionnaire from a professor at a pretty fancy university in a nearby state. The information said it was for research, and had the usual IRB letter.
And then rumor went around here that the research was being funded by a political policy organization which has been advocating for getting rid of tenure in the Northwoods state system. And even though the letter promised that the information would be confidential, it asked questions about where one had done one's last degree, and elsewhere said that information might be connected with information from public sources. (And in our state, lots of information is public, so I'm not counting on the confidentiality at all.)
Much discussion ensued. (That's how I take notes for heated discussions in committee meetings.)
Anyway, stupid me, I answered the questionnaire when I got it, thinking that it was for something real, and not wanting to be uncooperative with another college instructor somewhere.
There were a number of questions, but the most interesting ones basically tried to get at how much the respondent would sell tenure for. The question asked to give a percentage number of how much additional salary you'd need before you'd willingly give up tenure. There was not "I wouldn't" option, nor was there any place on the questionnaire for open-ended responses.
The question of the day, then: How much is tenure worth?
Would you give it up for 25% more salary? 200% more?
The questionnaire also asked about the effects of post-tenure review. I don't think it has much effect here because pretty much everyone post-tenure is working hard, and the potential for post-tenure review raises isn't anywhere near in line with how hard people work post-tenure. But, of course, that wasn't part of the question, and there was no open-ended space for comments at all.
Conclusion: bad questionnaire designed to make interpreting answers easy to come into line with the funding organization.
Conclusion 2: I'll probably never be willing to answer a research questionnaire again. A big EFF U to the fancy pants faculty member who sent this out. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest his armpits (and elsewhere). May he grow like an onion with his head in hell. (Feel free to add your own.)
And then rumor went around here that the research was being funded by a political policy organization which has been advocating for getting rid of tenure in the Northwoods state system. And even though the letter promised that the information would be confidential, it asked questions about where one had done one's last degree, and elsewhere said that information might be connected with information from public sources. (And in our state, lots of information is public, so I'm not counting on the confidentiality at all.)
Much discussion ensued. (That's how I take notes for heated discussions in committee meetings.)
Anyway, stupid me, I answered the questionnaire when I got it, thinking that it was for something real, and not wanting to be uncooperative with another college instructor somewhere.
There were a number of questions, but the most interesting ones basically tried to get at how much the respondent would sell tenure for. The question asked to give a percentage number of how much additional salary you'd need before you'd willingly give up tenure. There was not "I wouldn't" option, nor was there any place on the questionnaire for open-ended responses.
The question of the day, then: How much is tenure worth?
Would you give it up for 25% more salary? 200% more?
The questionnaire also asked about the effects of post-tenure review. I don't think it has much effect here because pretty much everyone post-tenure is working hard, and the potential for post-tenure review raises isn't anywhere near in line with how hard people work post-tenure. But, of course, that wasn't part of the question, and there was no open-ended space for comments at all.
Conclusion: bad questionnaire designed to make interpreting answers easy to come into line with the funding organization.
Conclusion 2: I'll probably never be willing to answer a research questionnaire again. A big EFF U to the fancy pants faculty member who sent this out. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest his armpits (and elsewhere). May he grow like an onion with his head in hell. (Feel free to add your own.)
Monday, August 24, 2015
Budget Stupidity
We've had a major cut to our budget this year; it's no secret, and we all saw it coming, though it's probably worse than most people thought it would be. The headmaster did a thing where they offered early retirements, and the thing was, if an employee was a certain age with a certain number of years of service, they got invited to apply. If they applied, then the managerial types looked at it, and supposedly only offered the buyout (which was modest) if the person wouldn't be replaced in their position. If a person got an offer for the buyout, they could then accept it or not. For non-teaching type positions (think maintenance folks, admin assistants, especially), the deadline was that they'd be done on August 31. For teaching types and higher level administrators, the deadline was that they'd be one on December 31, so that they'd teach the courses that students had already signed up for.
There was big push with an emergency team in the spring to brainstorm ways to deal with the budget issues.
The emergency team was split into work groups. The student services work group put forward a proposal to put everything in student services basically in one place so that students can take care of everything they need with one visit to a "mall" sort of thing. Administrative services, the HR folks and such, put forward a similar proposal so that employees should be able to go to one place to get all the things taken care of. These proposals would, we were told, involve lots of cross training so that the people who've been career services specialists would now need to also be able to help with financial aid and so forth.
And each of these "malls" would need a new manager. Yes, they're proposing to hire new upper-level administrators. (Or maybe they'll move people around. Who knows.)
***
The new non-emergency working group for student services now proposes that the student services mall will handle almost all student advising. This, they say, will solve two problems. First, it will help with faculty workload. Second, it will help students avoid faculty who are lousy advisors (and there are some of those). Faculty will still be responsible for advising students on career sorts of stuff, but not for advising students about their majors, minors, or general education sorts of choices.
Sounds good. Okay.
Then they do the math. Each advisor will be able to advise 300 students, so take the undergrad student population, divide by 300, and for each 3000 students, we need 10 advising people. You can do the math in your imagination; we're a fairly small school compared to the big schools with TV football presences, but we would still need to hire, say, 25 new advising people.
That's right. In a budget crisis where we're not rehiring instructors to teach students, they propose to hire 25 new advising people. (I bet they'll be hiring people with BA/BS degrees and paying them almost as much as they do Phuds in the humanities.)
They probably need to hire a new manager, too, say the Assistant Headmaster for Advising Services in the Mall.
My mind boggles.
There was big push with an emergency team in the spring to brainstorm ways to deal with the budget issues.
The emergency team was split into work groups. The student services work group put forward a proposal to put everything in student services basically in one place so that students can take care of everything they need with one visit to a "mall" sort of thing. Administrative services, the HR folks and such, put forward a similar proposal so that employees should be able to go to one place to get all the things taken care of. These proposals would, we were told, involve lots of cross training so that the people who've been career services specialists would now need to also be able to help with financial aid and so forth.
And each of these "malls" would need a new manager. Yes, they're proposing to hire new upper-level administrators. (Or maybe they'll move people around. Who knows.)
***
The new non-emergency working group for student services now proposes that the student services mall will handle almost all student advising. This, they say, will solve two problems. First, it will help with faculty workload. Second, it will help students avoid faculty who are lousy advisors (and there are some of those). Faculty will still be responsible for advising students on career sorts of stuff, but not for advising students about their majors, minors, or general education sorts of choices.
Sounds good. Okay.
Then they do the math. Each advisor will be able to advise 300 students, so take the undergrad student population, divide by 300, and for each 3000 students, we need 10 advising people. You can do the math in your imagination; we're a fairly small school compared to the big schools with TV football presences, but we would still need to hire, say, 25 new advising people.
That's right. In a budget crisis where we're not rehiring instructors to teach students, they propose to hire 25 new advising people. (I bet they'll be hiring people with BA/BS degrees and paying them almost as much as they do Phuds in the humanities.)
They probably need to hire a new manager, too, say the Assistant Headmaster for Advising Services in the Mall.
My mind boggles.
Sunday, June 07, 2015
Metablogging: A Conversation about Teaching Intensive Tenure Track and Adjunct Job Security
I thought it would be helpful to me, at least, to try to keep track of some of the recent conversations around the Teaching Intensive Tenure Track proposal from Michael Berube and Jennifer Ruth, and other conversations about adjunct job security and pay. I'd be happy to add other links to parts of the conversations I've missed. (Please let me know in the comments here.)
Starting with the article by Michael Berube and Jennifer Ruth proposing a teaching intensive tenure track to provide adjunct faculty with real job security, there's been quite an interesting conversation. (The article refers to their book, The Humanities, Higher Education, and Academic Freedom [Palgrave Macmillon, 2015]), which I admit, I haven't read. (I feel like I should read it, but I have three big projects this summer that are higher on my priority list.)
Fie Upon This Quiet Life responded here ("Teaching Track Solves Nothing"), arguing that teaching intensive schools already have teaching intensive tenure tracks, and that "research creep" means these schools also require research (and service, of course).
I responded here ("Teaching Track"), and Berube and Ruth commented. In the comments, Ruth responded to Contingent Cassandra and said that she and Berube envisioned a 3/3/3 load for the teaching intensive TT. In Contingent Cassandra's comments, though, she referred to a 3/3 load, so I'm not sure if Ruth meant a 3/3 on a semester system, or actually a 3/3/3 on a quarter system, which is more like a 4/5 on a semester system. Ruth also argued that
Fie responded, arguing that faculty in her school don't have power, and citing large cuts to eliminate majors at her school without faculty governance and participation.
Fie further added a blog post ("How do you solve a problem like the bottom line?") thinking about cutting general education to solve budget problems.
The Good Enough Professor also responded to Berube and Ruth's article ("These Deck Chairs Aren't Going to Rearrange Themselves") explaining that
She also explained that her department has been working with administration to develop "the conditions under which contingent faculty could be granted long-term contracts and the creation of a system of annual review where there had been none before."
The Good Enough Professor noted that the process happened in the context of a unionization, and that while there's better salary and working conditions,
Meanwhile, slightly separately, Historiann recently wrote ("Goosey, goosey gander") to point us to the Chancery Hill Books blog post ("Mearcstapa: Boundary Patrollers") where Tom argues that
He goes on to argue that
His main argument is that
Edited to add (with apologies for not seeing it earlier): Undine over at Not of General Interest has also posted ("The Economics of Wishful Thinking About Campus Funding") with a scenario about what might happen if faculty in one department at one school decided not to hire contingent faculty to staff sections and taught fewer sections; she posits that the administration would do an end run, covering the sections with MOOC type courses, for example.
As I read over these, I see a lot of complications.
R1s, regionals, SLACs, and community colleges provide very different experiences for faculty, contingent and otherwise): teaching load, research expectations (creep?), support, resources for research and teaching.
Private and public also matters.
Unionization seems important, perhaps the most important issue in many ways.
I wonder how important it is to us whether contingent faculty are hired via national searches or local availability.
I think that some folks in this conversation think of contingent faculty as having terminal degrees (PhD or MFA), while others think in terms of MAs.
Are contingent faculty required to do service some places and not others?
Most of the voices I'm seeing are tenured folks.
Tom (of Chancery Hill Books) talks about leaving his tenured position to follow his wife to her tenure track position ("Post Academic: You Must Change Your Life"). While that's admirable, it raises issues of how marriage affects decisions. Single people may have different considerations, as may partnered people without privilege of marriage.
I also wonder how race works in these conversations, urban vs rural, too.
Starting with the article by Michael Berube and Jennifer Ruth proposing a teaching intensive tenure track to provide adjunct faculty with real job security, there's been quite an interesting conversation. (The article refers to their book, The Humanities, Higher Education, and Academic Freedom [Palgrave Macmillon, 2015]), which I admit, I haven't read. (I feel like I should read it, but I have three big projects this summer that are higher on my priority list.)
Fie Upon This Quiet Life responded here ("Teaching Track Solves Nothing"), arguing that teaching intensive schools already have teaching intensive tenure tracks, and that "research creep" means these schools also require research (and service, of course).
I responded here ("Teaching Track"), and Berube and Ruth commented. In the comments, Ruth responded to Contingent Cassandra and said that she and Berube envisioned a 3/3/3 load for the teaching intensive TT. In Contingent Cassandra's comments, though, she referred to a 3/3 load, so I'm not sure if Ruth meant a 3/3 on a semester system, or actually a 3/3/3 on a quarter system, which is more like a 4/5 on a semester system. Ruth also argued that
We are asking our colleagues ramp up the pressure already on administrators from collective bargaining to refuse the creation of new adjunct appointments (forcing administrators to invest in good jobs if they want to expand) and using the many channels of shared governance to force change.
Fie responded, arguing that faculty in her school don't have power, and citing large cuts to eliminate majors at her school without faculty governance and participation.
Fie further added a blog post ("How do you solve a problem like the bottom line?") thinking about cutting general education to solve budget problems.
The Good Enough Professor also responded to Berube and Ruth's article ("These Deck Chairs Aren't Going to Rearrange Themselves") explaining that
As public support for the liberal arts diminishes, tenure comes under attack, online teaching is valorized as a cost-saving measure, and institutions increasingly replace tenured lines with contingent faculty, the issue of extending tenure seems, well, academic. In fact, the question is not, "are better conditions for teaching faculty a good thing?" but "how can we ensure that the people tasked with providing instruction in higher education are qualified to do it, afforded the protections they need to do it well (including academic freedom, grievance procedures, and long-term contracts), and compensated appropriately?" A re-tooled tenure process would be a lovely answer to that question, but it's hard to see how the political will (much less leverage) to bring it about is likely to emerge.
She also explained that her department has been working with administration to develop "the conditions under which contingent faculty could be granted long-term contracts and the creation of a system of annual review where there had been none before."
The Good Enough Professor noted that the process happened in the context of a unionization, and that while there's better salary and working conditions,
I will only note that although the provost holds out the possibility of a specifically tenured teaching position, it seems increasingly likely that this chimera will only be available to superstars who are otherwise of value to the university.So, it looks like there's been progress made in giving contingent faculty more long term job security (and living wage salaries), it's not quite what Berube and Ruth are arguing for. (Go read Good Enough's post!)
Meanwhile, slightly separately, Historiann recently wrote ("Goosey, goosey gander") to point us to the Chancery Hill Books blog post ("Mearcstapa: Boundary Patrollers") where Tom argues that
In short, the normalization, over the last few decades, of using (and increasing the numbers of) adjunct and non-tenure-track instructors, at practically every college and university in the land, has had the effect of suggesting to outside observers—indeed, I’d say it suggests to anyone who thinks clearly about the issues—that collegiate education can be accomplished more cheaply and without tenuring the teachers.
He goes on to argue that
And yet, in my experience, tenure-track faculty often seem to work harder to justify their higher position in a two-tier system of instruction than they do to work for the benefit of those caught in the lower (non-tenure-track) tier. It has sometimes felt as if they are concerned to police and patrol that border that separates tenure-track from non-tenure-track with particular diligence.
His main argument is that
people in tenure-track positions accept the existence or necessity of non-tenure-eligible faculty lines, then they have already accepted that tenure is not really necessary, and they risk reducing the effect of their own arguments to “But tenure is really necessary for me, and for those like me”. Likewise with salary, and with teaching load: “Oh, I’m in a tenure line, I need to teach fewer classes and get paid more because my teaching is linked to my research.” As if some teaching need not be linked to research, as if teaching twice as many courses a term should not be expected to affect the quality of instruction. But if reasonable pay and teaching loads are good for some, why not for all?There's been more response to his argument in the comments to Historiann's post where she's taken a look at her own department's practice of not hiring adjuncts to tenure track positions in national searches; she notes that the adjuncts apply, and make it to the finalist stage, but then aren't ranked as highly as someone else who's offered the job.
Edited to add (with apologies for not seeing it earlier): Undine over at Not of General Interest has also posted ("The Economics of Wishful Thinking About Campus Funding") with a scenario about what might happen if faculty in one department at one school decided not to hire contingent faculty to staff sections and taught fewer sections; she posits that the administration would do an end run, covering the sections with MOOC type courses, for example.
As I read over these, I see a lot of complications.
R1s, regionals, SLACs, and community colleges provide very different experiences for faculty, contingent and otherwise): teaching load, research expectations (creep?), support, resources for research and teaching.
Private and public also matters.
Unionization seems important, perhaps the most important issue in many ways.
I wonder how important it is to us whether contingent faculty are hired via national searches or local availability.
I think that some folks in this conversation think of contingent faculty as having terminal degrees (PhD or MFA), while others think in terms of MAs.
Are contingent faculty required to do service some places and not others?
Most of the voices I'm seeing are tenured folks.
Tom (of Chancery Hill Books) talks about leaving his tenured position to follow his wife to her tenure track position ("Post Academic: You Must Change Your Life"). While that's admirable, it raises issues of how marriage affects decisions. Single people may have different considerations, as may partnered people without privilege of marriage.
I also wonder how race works in these conversations, urban vs rural, too.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Out With a Wimper
I finished grading and submitted grades.
I was in the office for a fair bit this morning, and almost no one else was around. That's fitting, I suppose.
There are a few people who won't have jobs here next semester. There may be others who take early retirement, though I don't know who's likely or not.
But with all the bad budget news here, this end of the semester is less celebratory than any I think I've ever experienced. It's more just a slow winding ending.
I was in the office for a fair bit this morning, and almost no one else was around. That's fitting, I suppose.
There are a few people who won't have jobs here next semester. There may be others who take early retirement, though I don't know who's likely or not.
But with all the bad budget news here, this end of the semester is less celebratory than any I think I've ever experienced. It's more just a slow winding ending.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
And Just Like That...
It's the last day of teaching for me this semester.
I still have one more class to teach, very shortly, but it's the class I'm subbing for, so it feels a bit different. And what's planned is mostly student presentations, so there's that.
Otherwise, I'm done except for writing the final and a load of grading (the final exam and big projects). At least I don't have to grade for the other class. (Is there anything better than getting to talk about Shakespeare to a class without having to worry about planning the whole course or grading?)
***
I have colleagues, both in my department and across the university, who've been basically told they won't be back again, won't be hired to teach here. So while we're generally happy for the end of the semester, there's also a sense of mourning across the department and university.
Happily, I have a couple of colleagues who won't be back because they've found tenure track jobs. And we're happy for them. We've had a couple positions over the past few years, post-doc-ish positions, designed to be for very limited terms, and the people in these positions have been steadily moving from us to tenure track jobs. The chair and others in the department have worked with these folks in various ways to help them with teaching and with their applications, and it's worked really well, better than I had thought it might when we started.
***
The department will be celebrating students who've accomplished a lot this past year (or more). But we're also having a get together to acknowledge the people who aren't being rehired or who are leaving, and to generally thank our adjuncts. We depend on them a lot, and we do appreciate their work. We're troubled that we're not re-hiring some, and those of us with tenure or on the tenure track are also cognizant that we're privileged, and grateful not to have lost our positions. (There's a chance that some tenure-track folks at the university won't have a job here next year, I've heard, though their reviews were fine. But I think our tenure track folks will be okay because we've not rehired adjuncts.) (There's a chance that down the line, some tenured positions will be eliminated through department eliminations, but I don't think that's happening right now.)
I still have one more class to teach, very shortly, but it's the class I'm subbing for, so it feels a bit different. And what's planned is mostly student presentations, so there's that.
Otherwise, I'm done except for writing the final and a load of grading (the final exam and big projects). At least I don't have to grade for the other class. (Is there anything better than getting to talk about Shakespeare to a class without having to worry about planning the whole course or grading?)
***
I have colleagues, both in my department and across the university, who've been basically told they won't be back again, won't be hired to teach here. So while we're generally happy for the end of the semester, there's also a sense of mourning across the department and university.
Happily, I have a couple of colleagues who won't be back because they've found tenure track jobs. And we're happy for them. We've had a couple positions over the past few years, post-doc-ish positions, designed to be for very limited terms, and the people in these positions have been steadily moving from us to tenure track jobs. The chair and others in the department have worked with these folks in various ways to help them with teaching and with their applications, and it's worked really well, better than I had thought it might when we started.
***
The department will be celebrating students who've accomplished a lot this past year (or more). But we're also having a get together to acknowledge the people who aren't being rehired or who are leaving, and to generally thank our adjuncts. We depend on them a lot, and we do appreciate their work. We're troubled that we're not re-hiring some, and those of us with tenure or on the tenure track are also cognizant that we're privileged, and grateful not to have lost our positions. (There's a chance that some tenure-track folks at the university won't have a job here next year, I've heard, though their reviews were fine. But I think our tenure track folks will be okay because we've not rehired adjuncts.) (There's a chance that down the line, some tenured positions will be eliminated through department eliminations, but I don't think that's happening right now.)
Wednesday, May 06, 2015
Budget Despair
I went to a meeting with the Headmaster and my college the other day to hear the latest news on the budget crisis. One problem is that we really don't know how bad it will be. Various lawmakers have expressed anger at different state schools for doing proactive budget stuff, like offering early retirements, or not rehiring contingent folks who've been around forever, but schools work on fairly long time frames.
We already have students enrolling in courses for fall, and so we have to have staffing in place for those courses. We can't offer courses, have students sign up, and then pull them at the last minute, except in the case of the course not filling.
So the Headmaster laid out a couple of different scenarios, with real dollar costs, and the shortfalls look more and more dire, and the hope of relief less and less likely. If a certain number of people take early retirement, then the shortfall looks like this. If fewer people take early retirement, then it looks even worse. But there's really no good news.
One of my students needs to take a first year foreign language. She should have taken it this year, but for whatever reason, she didn't. (The intake advisor maybe? Or classes weren't available when she signed up?) And now she's my advisee, and we've met, and so I sent her to ask the foreign language folks about her placement (because she doesn't remember).
And then she emailed me: the placement puts her in the 101 course, but there's only one section of popular language 101 offered in fall, and it's already full. (Most of our first year students come in ready to take a second semester of a second language, if they need one, and some students don't need a second language at all. But unless something changes, since this course is already full and has a waiting list, not a single first year student will be able to take the first semester of this language. Not one. Holy cow.)
We already have students enrolling in courses for fall, and so we have to have staffing in place for those courses. We can't offer courses, have students sign up, and then pull them at the last minute, except in the case of the course not filling.
So the Headmaster laid out a couple of different scenarios, with real dollar costs, and the shortfalls look more and more dire, and the hope of relief less and less likely. If a certain number of people take early retirement, then the shortfall looks like this. If fewer people take early retirement, then it looks even worse. But there's really no good news.
One of my students needs to take a first year foreign language. She should have taken it this year, but for whatever reason, she didn't. (The intake advisor maybe? Or classes weren't available when she signed up?) And now she's my advisee, and we've met, and so I sent her to ask the foreign language folks about her placement (because she doesn't remember).
And then she emailed me: the placement puts her in the 101 course, but there's only one section of popular language 101 offered in fall, and it's already full. (Most of our first year students come in ready to take a second semester of a second language, if they need one, and some students don't need a second language at all. But unless something changes, since this course is already full and has a waiting list, not a single first year student will be able to take the first semester of this language. Not one. Holy cow.)
Sunday, May 03, 2015
That Time
It's that time of the semester when everything is overwhelming; there's so much work to do, and yet it's spring and what I really want to do is play outside.
I've planted some early plants, kale, broccoli, spinach, lettuce, and the other day I seeded some carrots. I've also weeded; how do the weeds take off so early?
And while all that's happening, it feels like the world is falling apart, as usual. Things are more dire all the time here at NWU. And then there's all the violence against Black folks. And more violence.
I can't quite wrap my mind around what the report says happened in Baltimore. How do you even conceive of doing that to another human being. I mean, I believe that there's such a thing as a "rough ride" (and how common is it that there's a slang term!), but I can't wrap my mind around it. I bet I'm not the only white person in the US who's feeling that bewilderment.
***
Fitbit question: when I gave blood the other day, the person taking my pulse and such said it was 64. But in almost the same moment, I looked at the fitbit and it said 74. Which seems more likely to be wrong? Or are they both wrong and the real number is somewhere between? (Plus or minus 4 seems pretty much what I'd expect, especially since the person is looking at 15 seconds and then multiplying by 4. But a more than 10% difference seems high?
I've planted some early plants, kale, broccoli, spinach, lettuce, and the other day I seeded some carrots. I've also weeded; how do the weeds take off so early?
And while all that's happening, it feels like the world is falling apart, as usual. Things are more dire all the time here at NWU. And then there's all the violence against Black folks. And more violence.
I can't quite wrap my mind around what the report says happened in Baltimore. How do you even conceive of doing that to another human being. I mean, I believe that there's such a thing as a "rough ride" (and how common is it that there's a slang term!), but I can't wrap my mind around it. I bet I'm not the only white person in the US who's feeling that bewilderment.
***
Fitbit question: when I gave blood the other day, the person taking my pulse and such said it was 64. But in almost the same moment, I looked at the fitbit and it said 74. Which seems more likely to be wrong? Or are they both wrong and the real number is somewhere between? (Plus or minus 4 seems pretty much what I'd expect, especially since the person is looking at 15 seconds and then multiplying by 4. But a more than 10% difference seems high?
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Cut
I just learned that one of my friends in administration at another school has lost their job due to the budget cuts.
Back when I first got to know this friend, when they were here, what I learned from them made me rethink administration. I would say something about having a good class of students, and they'd say "you're welcome" because they were involved in recruiting students.
Let's face it, without administrators, admissions folks, registrars, you name it, the university doesn't exist, just as it doesn't exist without faculty, students, maintenance folks, and so forth.
It's easy in the abstract to think about cutting administrative positions. And indeed, I can think of a few I think we should cut. But it's also important to recognize that these folks, too, work hard and help make the school what it is.
And when it's a friend, someone you know works hard, is smart and energetic, ethical and humane, that makes you really think about how bad things are here, and how much worse they're getting.
It feels like we're in mourning around NWU these days, at least among the faculty and staff. I talked the other day with an adjunct colleague about what was happening, and this person, too, will be out of work here at the end of the semester.
I don't think the students are feeling it yet, but I saw a poster up for a summer school course for a language that basically said that there would be fewer courses offered next year and they'd be larger, so this summer is a good time to fulfill the language requirement with this course.
Back when I first got to know this friend, when they were here, what I learned from them made me rethink administration. I would say something about having a good class of students, and they'd say "you're welcome" because they were involved in recruiting students.
Let's face it, without administrators, admissions folks, registrars, you name it, the university doesn't exist, just as it doesn't exist without faculty, students, maintenance folks, and so forth.
It's easy in the abstract to think about cutting administrative positions. And indeed, I can think of a few I think we should cut. But it's also important to recognize that these folks, too, work hard and help make the school what it is.
And when it's a friend, someone you know works hard, is smart and energetic, ethical and humane, that makes you really think about how bad things are here, and how much worse they're getting.
It feels like we're in mourning around NWU these days, at least among the faculty and staff. I talked the other day with an adjunct colleague about what was happening, and this person, too, will be out of work here at the end of the semester.
I don't think the students are feeling it yet, but I saw a poster up for a summer school course for a language that basically said that there would be fewer courses offered next year and they'd be larger, so this summer is a good time to fulfill the language requirement with this course.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Gloomy Day
I recently read a post from another blogger complaining about some funding cuts to his university/program. The blogger sounded genuinely irritated.
To me, the complaining sounded, well, callous. The level of funding the program enjoys even with the cuts is far, far beyond anything my program, or indeed, any program I've ever been associated with experiences (yes, even in my phud program, I'm pretty sure).
As I was on the edge of irritation, I realized that the way he sounds to me is probably a lot like the way folks at my university sound to less privileged folks in my region, especially people who are really hurting financially, who look at my health insurance and job and wonder how I think I have anything to complain about.
Unfortunately, those aren't the people being helped by tax breaks in this area, so they're just hurting more and more. Moving the big budget cuts around here from the university to other state funded stuff will hurt them even more, since other than the university, the state pretty much pays for prisons, some Medicaid, some public education, some public health, state troopers, and some roads.
***
The new law in Indiana allowing businesses to discriminate against people based on religious belief seems insane. I hope every single ally in Indiana asks every time they walk into any business if that business discriminates based on religious belief, and if the business says yes, they turn around and walk out. If someone doesn't want to do business with some folks they don't like, then I sure don't want to do business with them.
It looks like some other states are working on similar laws.
How does that seem reasonable to anyone?
To me, the complaining sounded, well, callous. The level of funding the program enjoys even with the cuts is far, far beyond anything my program, or indeed, any program I've ever been associated with experiences (yes, even in my phud program, I'm pretty sure).
As I was on the edge of irritation, I realized that the way he sounds to me is probably a lot like the way folks at my university sound to less privileged folks in my region, especially people who are really hurting financially, who look at my health insurance and job and wonder how I think I have anything to complain about.
Unfortunately, those aren't the people being helped by tax breaks in this area, so they're just hurting more and more. Moving the big budget cuts around here from the university to other state funded stuff will hurt them even more, since other than the university, the state pretty much pays for prisons, some Medicaid, some public education, some public health, state troopers, and some roads.
***
The new law in Indiana allowing businesses to discriminate against people based on religious belief seems insane. I hope every single ally in Indiana asks every time they walk into any business if that business discriminates based on religious belief, and if the business says yes, they turn around and walk out. If someone doesn't want to do business with some folks they don't like, then I sure don't want to do business with them.
It looks like some other states are working on similar laws.
How does that seem reasonable to anyone?
Wednesday, March 04, 2015
Searching Databases
As part of the budget crisis response, our library is trying to figure out if they can drop some of the search in databases they subscribe to, especially the ones used by relatively few people, and ones that are covered by other databases.
So they sent a question to us about the MLA database, and we talked about it at our meeting. And two of us, two out of 25 or so at the meeting, said that we think MLA is important.
Good old boy said that he hadn't used a database in years, so he didn't much care. (And I was in shock the rest of the afternoon. How do you teach students to find critical or theoretical work without using some database? Even if you never look up stuff to read for yourself, or try to keep up even a bit in your field.)
But still, only two of us spoke to using MLA at all.
I'm pretty sure EEBO is going away for us. And there's talk of the on-line OED going away, too.
Of course, I realize that people being fired is way, way more important than not subscribing to a database. But as I think about trying to teach or research without access to recent work, I'm pretty much ... I don't even have words, because I'm at such a loss.
So they sent a question to us about the MLA database, and we talked about it at our meeting. And two of us, two out of 25 or so at the meeting, said that we think MLA is important.
Good old boy said that he hadn't used a database in years, so he didn't much care. (And I was in shock the rest of the afternoon. How do you teach students to find critical or theoretical work without using some database? Even if you never look up stuff to read for yourself, or try to keep up even a bit in your field.)
But still, only two of us spoke to using MLA at all.
I'm pretty sure EEBO is going away for us. And there's talk of the on-line OED going away, too.
Of course, I realize that people being fired is way, way more important than not subscribing to a database. But as I think about trying to teach or research without access to recent work, I'm pretty much ... I don't even have words, because I'm at such a loss.
Wednesday, February 04, 2015
Reading History
I've been reading a history of the Middle Ages, starting in about 300 BC, and ending about 1500. I was looking for something else in the school library, saw it, and just felt like reading it, so there I am. I'm to about 1000 now. I have to say, what I knew about the years 300 to 1066 could pretty much fit on a small postcard with plenty of room for an address and a stamp, you know? It's sort of shameful, but I'm getting a better sense, and could probably fill a large postcard now.
One of the things I've long felt pretty iffy about is the split in the Roman Empire, and then the fall of the Roman Empire in the West, and then also, the beginnings of the Papacy (which this text didn't really go into, but it's pretty introductory). One of the points the text made is that from day to day, most people from, say, 300 to 600 in western Europe wouldn't have said that the Roman Empire was falling. They muddled through, and things changed, but they weren't looking at a big historical picture. They were muddling through.
I feel like I'm muddling through the fall of something big here, a university system, at the least, perhaps, or something even bigger. Day to day, not much changes, and then you think, hey, in the past 20 years, this X sure has changed, hasn't it?
I'm also prepping to teach "The Knight's Tale" and that has me thinking about the values of epic and romance, and the sense of loss they often seem to share, that there was something real, important, valuable, and that it's been lost. Neither epic nor romance seems appropriate to our times, do they? They depend too much on a hero standing up, and heroes don't stand out that way these days, and maybe never really did except in texts. Villains, sure, sometimes, but not heroes.
What genre speaks to our times? Zombie shows? (I'm not discounting zombie shows, just feeling unattached to them. But then, I suspect I would have felt unattached to medieval romance were I a medieval peasant woman trying to scrounge enough bread to make it to the next day, too.)
One of the things I've long felt pretty iffy about is the split in the Roman Empire, and then the fall of the Roman Empire in the West, and then also, the beginnings of the Papacy (which this text didn't really go into, but it's pretty introductory). One of the points the text made is that from day to day, most people from, say, 300 to 600 in western Europe wouldn't have said that the Roman Empire was falling. They muddled through, and things changed, but they weren't looking at a big historical picture. They were muddling through.
I feel like I'm muddling through the fall of something big here, a university system, at the least, perhaps, or something even bigger. Day to day, not much changes, and then you think, hey, in the past 20 years, this X sure has changed, hasn't it?
I'm also prepping to teach "The Knight's Tale" and that has me thinking about the values of epic and romance, and the sense of loss they often seem to share, that there was something real, important, valuable, and that it's been lost. Neither epic nor romance seems appropriate to our times, do they? They depend too much on a hero standing up, and heroes don't stand out that way these days, and maybe never really did except in texts. Villains, sure, sometimes, but not heroes.
What genre speaks to our times? Zombie shows? (I'm not discounting zombie shows, just feeling unattached to them. But then, I suspect I would have felt unattached to medieval romance were I a medieval peasant woman trying to scrounge enough bread to make it to the next day, too.)
Monday, May 26, 2014
It's for the Students...
Another for the annals of excellence without money: I was in a composition teaching workshop last week, half an hour of which was really useful, and the other almost two days, not so much. But it was okay.
The last couple of hours was about helping students who are English Language Learners, and study abroad students (that is, students who are studying here, abroad from their country/school).
Like lots of schools in the US, NWU is actively recruiting increasing numbers of foreign students. They pay full freight, so lots and lots of schools are recruiting. And they make us look a bit more diverse, though without serving our community's diverse population any better.
More and more of these students are coming not for a year, but for our degree (or a joint degree), and that means that unlike the students who visit for a year, these students have to fulfill all our NWU requirements, including composition. So our comp workshop got this talk about how to help these students; all of the suggestions were good ideas, many would help our students in general, especially our first generation students.
And, as you'd guess, most of the suggestions involve adding quite a bit of time and energy for the visiting student. And there were no suggestions about what we should give up in order to make the extra time and energy, because "it's for the students. We owe it to our students." Yes, I asked.
Indeed, we do owe our students good teaching, help, and so on. But if we add in more students needing special help and more time, then the time has to come from somewhere. I can't make it up out of thin air. Yes, I mentioned that.
And I also asked how many international students we could expect in our 20 person comp classes, and was told that the powers that be are trying to spread them so the we all only have 3-4.
One. 3-4 students needing additional help, beyond the English as first language speakers who already need additional help, is a lot.
Two. 3-4 out of 20 means that 15-20% of our students taking comp are international students. That's a lot, no?
Three. We all know this is about demographics and money. There are fewer US students in the traditional age cohort right now. For schools like NWU, that have traditionally pulled from the middle and working class, mostly white, students, and which don't have big reputations, that means some of our traditional students have been getting into and choosing more prestigious schools. Others have made other choices (community colleges, for profits, or just trying to find a job) based on the dismal economics of higher education.
Colleges and universities are competing for a smaller pool of traditional students, and we're mostly (I'm guessing Harvard isn't too worried) looking for students who aren't our traditional students to recruit. We've tried, without great success, the non-trad aged students, and we're doing a variety of distance learning and jigsaw puzzle major to recruit and get them through. (The jigsaw puzzle major is a special major supposedly for students who've taken courses here and there in different areas; they're supposed to be able to put those together, take a couple of special courses to teach them to . . . well, put those courses together, and voila, a college degree.)
And now, all these schools are recruiting international students with great energy. We're mostly getting students from China, Saudi Arabia, and a few other countries which are putting money behind students to give them opportunities to study abroad, often with a narrow choice of majors. And we're following that money.
And so is everyone else. The Harvards have always followed that money, of course. And the flagships have also, to a lesser extent. So the top students, the ones most prepared to study in another country are all going to more prestigious schools. The less prepared students are coming to NWU and other schools like ours. And they're bringing money, full out of state tuition, and we're all chasing that money.
Truth be told, we're all chasing the money because states don't want to pay for higher ed (or any ed, really), and because our traditional student demographic is on the decline. But that extra money, where's it going?
Mostly, it's probably like a finger in the dike. Also, of course, we have to hire a deanling to be deanling of international students. And that person has to have an assistant deanling.
And then they need to hire some more adjuncts to teach the English prep classes for students deemed unprepared to enter our comp and other regular university classes.
But for those of us who will be doing more work, well, there's no money for that. And no reduction in other responsibilities.
My guess is that the visiting students are selected for their talents in areas valued by governments, so tech, business, mostly. The impact on faculty will be high in areas required by the university, so comp, math, especially. These students will have a second language better than most of our first language English speaking students, so they won't impact the languages, except maybe by reducing demand. Business and tech type courses (computer science, maybe physics and such?), business related courses (communications, public relations) will be in demand.
Faculty in, say, art history, probably won't notice a difference. Faculty in comp will notice a huge difference. I'm not sure about math, but I'm guessing some difference.
I tend to really like international students, but I'm daunted when I get them in writing courses, and the idea of having 15-20% of the students in my comp course international students, and students whose first language isn't English, is daunting indeed.
I feel so slow. Back when I was on our senate, we talked about recruiting more international students, and about special programs, but I guess I assumed they would mostly be visiting for a year, and not working towards a degree from here. I certainly didn't imagine that comp classes would be so deeply impacted. I think we all thought about what a good idea recruiting more international students is, and it is in many ways, without thinking about how some courses would be affected. And now it's coming together, and we're going to really be feeling it.
(I didn't teach comp this year because I taught another course, so I was pretty unaware, but I'm told that a lot of comp faculty were beginning to see the change this past year, especially.)
The last couple of hours was about helping students who are English Language Learners, and study abroad students (that is, students who are studying here, abroad from their country/school).
Like lots of schools in the US, NWU is actively recruiting increasing numbers of foreign students. They pay full freight, so lots and lots of schools are recruiting. And they make us look a bit more diverse, though without serving our community's diverse population any better.
More and more of these students are coming not for a year, but for our degree (or a joint degree), and that means that unlike the students who visit for a year, these students have to fulfill all our NWU requirements, including composition. So our comp workshop got this talk about how to help these students; all of the suggestions were good ideas, many would help our students in general, especially our first generation students.
And, as you'd guess, most of the suggestions involve adding quite a bit of time and energy for the visiting student. And there were no suggestions about what we should give up in order to make the extra time and energy, because "it's for the students. We owe it to our students." Yes, I asked.
Indeed, we do owe our students good teaching, help, and so on. But if we add in more students needing special help and more time, then the time has to come from somewhere. I can't make it up out of thin air. Yes, I mentioned that.
And I also asked how many international students we could expect in our 20 person comp classes, and was told that the powers that be are trying to spread them so the we all only have 3-4.
One. 3-4 students needing additional help, beyond the English as first language speakers who already need additional help, is a lot.
Two. 3-4 out of 20 means that 15-20% of our students taking comp are international students. That's a lot, no?
Three. We all know this is about demographics and money. There are fewer US students in the traditional age cohort right now. For schools like NWU, that have traditionally pulled from the middle and working class, mostly white, students, and which don't have big reputations, that means some of our traditional students have been getting into and choosing more prestigious schools. Others have made other choices (community colleges, for profits, or just trying to find a job) based on the dismal economics of higher education.
Colleges and universities are competing for a smaller pool of traditional students, and we're mostly (I'm guessing Harvard isn't too worried) looking for students who aren't our traditional students to recruit. We've tried, without great success, the non-trad aged students, and we're doing a variety of distance learning and jigsaw puzzle major to recruit and get them through. (The jigsaw puzzle major is a special major supposedly for students who've taken courses here and there in different areas; they're supposed to be able to put those together, take a couple of special courses to teach them to . . . well, put those courses together, and voila, a college degree.)
And now, all these schools are recruiting international students with great energy. We're mostly getting students from China, Saudi Arabia, and a few other countries which are putting money behind students to give them opportunities to study abroad, often with a narrow choice of majors. And we're following that money.
And so is everyone else. The Harvards have always followed that money, of course. And the flagships have also, to a lesser extent. So the top students, the ones most prepared to study in another country are all going to more prestigious schools. The less prepared students are coming to NWU and other schools like ours. And they're bringing money, full out of state tuition, and we're all chasing that money.
Truth be told, we're all chasing the money because states don't want to pay for higher ed (or any ed, really), and because our traditional student demographic is on the decline. But that extra money, where's it going?
Mostly, it's probably like a finger in the dike. Also, of course, we have to hire a deanling to be deanling of international students. And that person has to have an assistant deanling.
And then they need to hire some more adjuncts to teach the English prep classes for students deemed unprepared to enter our comp and other regular university classes.
But for those of us who will be doing more work, well, there's no money for that. And no reduction in other responsibilities.
My guess is that the visiting students are selected for their talents in areas valued by governments, so tech, business, mostly. The impact on faculty will be high in areas required by the university, so comp, math, especially. These students will have a second language better than most of our first language English speaking students, so they won't impact the languages, except maybe by reducing demand. Business and tech type courses (computer science, maybe physics and such?), business related courses (communications, public relations) will be in demand.
Faculty in, say, art history, probably won't notice a difference. Faculty in comp will notice a huge difference. I'm not sure about math, but I'm guessing some difference.
I tend to really like international students, but I'm daunted when I get them in writing courses, and the idea of having 15-20% of the students in my comp course international students, and students whose first language isn't English, is daunting indeed.
I feel so slow. Back when I was on our senate, we talked about recruiting more international students, and about special programs, but I guess I assumed they would mostly be visiting for a year, and not working towards a degree from here. I certainly didn't imagine that comp classes would be so deeply impacted. I think we all thought about what a good idea recruiting more international students is, and it is in many ways, without thinking about how some courses would be affected. And now it's coming together, and we're going to really be feeling it.
(I didn't teach comp this year because I taught another course, so I was pretty unaware, but I'm told that a lot of comp faculty were beginning to see the change this past year, especially.)
Tuesday, April 08, 2014
Growing Up
I was in a meeting the other day, and it really struck me how difficult I find it to say to someone in a meeting situation that I think their idea, however good, won't fly, and that we should do something different.
And then today, I wrote a note to a student to tell hir that I think the project they've been working on doesn't pass muster, and either needs a lot more work, or needs not to happen.
I'm sure I'm not the only person to find these sorts of conversations difficult. Heck, I'm sure it was worse for the person at the meeting and the student than it was for me. And I'm sure it would be way worse if I were actually giving life-changingly bad news.
Still, it's something I'm weak about, and I need to think how to do it well and better.
On the other hand, I also realized at that meeting, and writing to the student, that I've gotten a lot better at not feeling personally hurt when certain things just don't happen. Yes, I still feel invested, but I'm better at realizing that I should worry about the things I can do something about, and worry less about the things I can't do something about. Or something.
And I can't be more invested in a student's project than the student is.
And I have to recognize that I make choices about what's important and what I put my energy into, and that other people make choices, but that our choices aren't going to be the same. And I'm mostly better at respecting their choices. (Though not always, true!)
I think everyone here is feeling beaten down by the long, very cold winter and by the semester and by constant budget cuts and administrative additions to the work.
Of course, from administrators' points of view, the work they want us to do is really important and they want us to be totally invested. For most of the faculty, though, the work is make-work, and we don't see that it helps us teach or research or advise or anything else. It merely provides more fodder to hire more administrators, it seems.
And then today, I wrote a note to a student to tell hir that I think the project they've been working on doesn't pass muster, and either needs a lot more work, or needs not to happen.
I'm sure I'm not the only person to find these sorts of conversations difficult. Heck, I'm sure it was worse for the person at the meeting and the student than it was for me. And I'm sure it would be way worse if I were actually giving life-changingly bad news.
Still, it's something I'm weak about, and I need to think how to do it well and better.
On the other hand, I also realized at that meeting, and writing to the student, that I've gotten a lot better at not feeling personally hurt when certain things just don't happen. Yes, I still feel invested, but I'm better at realizing that I should worry about the things I can do something about, and worry less about the things I can't do something about. Or something.
And I can't be more invested in a student's project than the student is.
And I have to recognize that I make choices about what's important and what I put my energy into, and that other people make choices, but that our choices aren't going to be the same. And I'm mostly better at respecting their choices. (Though not always, true!)
I think everyone here is feeling beaten down by the long, very cold winter and by the semester and by constant budget cuts and administrative additions to the work.
Of course, from administrators' points of view, the work they want us to do is really important and they want us to be totally invested. For most of the faculty, though, the work is make-work, and we don't see that it helps us teach or research or advise or anything else. It merely provides more fodder to hire more administrators, it seems.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Wagging the Dog
Over in the underwater basketweaving department, they're working on assessment projects like mad because the new campus assessment person has said jump in a very loud voice, and the headmaster's assistant has cracked the whip.
They have this program, a certificate in underwater basketweaving, which is a bit less than a minor, but gives students practical skills for managing and working with basketweaving projects later. The certificate has six classes, Basketweaving basics (UBW 10), Underwater safety (UBW 20), Introductory reed work (UBW 101), Basketweaving theory (UBW 103), and Integrative basketweaving (UBW 190, a sort of capstone experience), with one elective (at the 100 level or above) to be chosen from a group of basketweaving classes.
They were told that they had to write out specific goals and outcomes for the certificate program, and that for every goal, there had to be at least one outcome, and for every outcome, at least one way to demonstrate that every student did it. The pressure from the campus assessment person is that we all have to do assessment stuff "in a meaningful way," and so he hints that we should all limit the numbers of outcomes.
The goal for this certificate is that students should be able to weave basic underwater baskets, and that they should do so safely, and they should understand how basketweaving works. That gets broken down into a couple of outcomes, which I'll number:
1) Weave underwater baskets.
2) Use safe and appropriate techniques.
3) Understand basic basketweaving issues. (Which in assessment outcome talk is going to come out as something like "demonstrate an understanding of basic basketweaving")
Then they were told to make a grid, showing where each of the outcomes was taught, and where each would be assessed. Let's use "T" for courses where things will be taught, and "Ass" for where they'll be assessed
Basketweaving basics (UBW 10): 1T; 3T
Underwater safety (UBW 20): 2T
Introductory reed work (UBW 101): 1T; 3T
Basketweaving theory (UBW 103): 3T
Integrative basketweaving (UBW 190, a sort of capstone experience): 1A, 2A, 3A
Since they don't know which of the electives students will take (Advanced Underwater Safety, Intermediate Basketweaving, whatever), they don't put the electives on the list.
Then they're asked to fill out another form, telling how UBW 190 is going to assess each of the outcomes. So they've chosen as their assessment the final project, the production of an underwater basket without drowning or losing body parts. Oh, and they also have to use something written to demonstrate understanding, but some people don't give an exam, and some people require an extensive reflection piece about the woven underwater basket, while others do give an exam, but do it as an oral. It's a mess, but they're working on it.
And now, they're a bit worried, because budget cuts are coming down the pike along with an emphasis on getting students through programs as fast as possible, and they're going to be driven by assessment.
UBW 103, the theory class, doesn't seem to teach any of the outcomes that aren't also taught in the other classes, so are the beancounters going to come back and say, "Well, it doesn't contribute to the outcomes you've assigned, so why is it required? If it were important, you would have put it on your grid."
"And the elective?" the beancounters will ask, "Do students even learn anything in the elective? It's not on your grid, so they must not learn anything."
Coming soon to a campus near you, because it's for the students!
They have this program, a certificate in underwater basketweaving, which is a bit less than a minor, but gives students practical skills for managing and working with basketweaving projects later. The certificate has six classes, Basketweaving basics (UBW 10), Underwater safety (UBW 20), Introductory reed work (UBW 101), Basketweaving theory (UBW 103), and Integrative basketweaving (UBW 190, a sort of capstone experience), with one elective (at the 100 level or above) to be chosen from a group of basketweaving classes.
They were told that they had to write out specific goals and outcomes for the certificate program, and that for every goal, there had to be at least one outcome, and for every outcome, at least one way to demonstrate that every student did it. The pressure from the campus assessment person is that we all have to do assessment stuff "in a meaningful way," and so he hints that we should all limit the numbers of outcomes.
The goal for this certificate is that students should be able to weave basic underwater baskets, and that they should do so safely, and they should understand how basketweaving works. That gets broken down into a couple of outcomes, which I'll number:
1) Weave underwater baskets.
2) Use safe and appropriate techniques.
3) Understand basic basketweaving issues. (Which in assessment outcome talk is going to come out as something like "demonstrate an understanding of basic basketweaving")
Then they were told to make a grid, showing where each of the outcomes was taught, and where each would be assessed. Let's use "T" for courses where things will be taught, and "Ass" for where they'll be assessed
Basketweaving basics (UBW 10): 1T; 3T
Underwater safety (UBW 20): 2T
Introductory reed work (UBW 101): 1T; 3T
Basketweaving theory (UBW 103): 3T
Integrative basketweaving (UBW 190, a sort of capstone experience): 1A, 2A, 3A
Since they don't know which of the electives students will take (Advanced Underwater Safety, Intermediate Basketweaving, whatever), they don't put the electives on the list.
Then they're asked to fill out another form, telling how UBW 190 is going to assess each of the outcomes. So they've chosen as their assessment the final project, the production of an underwater basket without drowning or losing body parts. Oh, and they also have to use something written to demonstrate understanding, but some people don't give an exam, and some people require an extensive reflection piece about the woven underwater basket, while others do give an exam, but do it as an oral. It's a mess, but they're working on it.
And now, they're a bit worried, because budget cuts are coming down the pike along with an emphasis on getting students through programs as fast as possible, and they're going to be driven by assessment.
UBW 103, the theory class, doesn't seem to teach any of the outcomes that aren't also taught in the other classes, so are the beancounters going to come back and say, "Well, it doesn't contribute to the outcomes you've assigned, so why is it required? If it were important, you would have put it on your grid."
"And the elective?" the beancounters will ask, "Do students even learn anything in the elective? It's not on your grid, so they must not learn anything."
Coming soon to a campus near you, because it's for the students!
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