Archive for October, 2005

676. EXCELLENCE; AN IMMODEST PROPOSAL

Monday, October 31st, 2005

Folks:

The posting below, by Lee Shulman, president of the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching (CFAT) looks at important lessons to be learned from some aspects of medical education. It is #20 in the monthly series called Carnegie Foundation Perspectives. These short commentaries exploring various educational issues are produced by the CFAT. The Foundation invites your response at: CarnegiePresident@carnegiefoundation.org. Reprinted with permission.

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu

UP NEXT: Sharing in the Online Community

Tomorrow’s Teaching and Learning

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EXCELLENCE; AN IMMODEST PROPOSAL

September 2005 By Lee S. Shulman

Recently, I participated in a site visit to the teaching hospital of a major American medical school. These visits are an integral part of the Carnegie Foundation’s ten-year program of research on how lawyers, engineers, clergy, school teachers, nurses, and physicians are taught and how they learn. On this visit, I joined a team of students and faculty in the daily ritual of clinical rounds.

I use the term “ritual” quite precisely: the clinical-rounds team follows the same pedagogical pattern daily as it moves from patient to patient and reviews the status of each. The team I observed included a chief resident, a third-year resident, two first-year residents, two third-year medical students beginning their internal medicine rotation, and a pharmacy student on internship. Each of seven patients comprised a “lesson” within a unit of instruction. We stopped outside every room. The resident or medical student responsible for that patient gave a report that followed a strict outline. We talked about what had changed from the previous day. Patients ranged from someone who had been in the intensive care unit for less than twenty-four hours to one who had been in a coma for thirty days. After thirty days of clinical investigation, the causes of this patient’s condition were still unknown.

Next, the chief resident discussed what had occurred during the rounds with the third-year resident in a preceptor interaction, essentially like a supervising teacher with a student teacher. They reviewed how rounds had gone pedagogically and talked about what other questions one might have asked, what other aspects of patients’ conditions one might have noted, and how well patients were managed and whether to do something different. We then moved to teaching rounds, in which the chief resident presented a didactic seminar on pulmonary function tests.

The day ended with “M&M” (Morbidity and Mortality), otherwise known as, “Where Did We Screw Up and What Can We Learn from It?” Pretty much the same group from morning rounds reconvened, joined by other faculty. Their goal was quality assurance. They reviewed at an institutional level one of their most persistent failures, namely the unacceptably high infection rate in the intensive care unit, primarily associated with running central lines into arteries (a procedure some readers will know in detail from Atul Gawande’s wonderful book about the training of surgeons, Complications: A Surgeon’s Notes on an Imperfect Science.) Data indicated that the infection rate is higher under certain circumstances, lower under others. Everyone in the system was learning. In fact, an assistant professor ran the session, with full professors learning alongside third-year clerks.

This kind of communal questioning and learning is compelling. Where in higher education more generally do we find an institutional pressure to come together and ask why students are not learning mathematics or economics well, and what to do institutionally about that? What I watched at this teaching hospital was an institution actively investigating the quality of its work, knowing, caring, and operating corporately to improve and learn from its collective experience. This is an important model for the rest of higher education. But it was a model not only of a powerful pedagogical process but of something else-something we see far too seldom in education.

During the last part of this Morbidity and Mortality conference, the facilitator noted that every major hospital has a problem with high infection rates in ICU’s associated with running central lines, especially in the femoral artery. Unfortunately, it’s easiest for medical practitioners to run a line in the femoral artery. (Perhaps running femoral lines is analogous to running lecture courses; they’re not necessarily the most effective, but they deliver the goods to the largest number at the lowest cost.) In any case, the facilitator mentioned that Johns Hopkins had decided that the high infection rates were unacceptable. The medical school dean and the university president met with the teaching hospital staff and decided they knew enough to approach a zero percent rate of infection. The problem was not absence of knowledge of best practice, but absence of discipline and commitment to apply that knowledge. Therefore, they developed a rigorous protocol for running central lines.

The protocol involves things such as how carefully and frequently hands are washed, and not making things easier on oneself by using the same line to draw blood and to deliver medication because the odds for an infection zoom up every time that happens. Nurses enforce the protocol and oversee each procedure, and nurses are empowered to abort a procedure as soon as they see protocol being violated, whether by an intern or by the department chair. Early on in this new routine, every nurse was handed two phone numbers-the home phones of the medical school dean and the university president-and told that if a physician didn’t follow protocol and refused to abort the procedure, they were to phone one of these numbers, even at 3 a.m. That only happened once. The infection rate at Johns Hopkins for that procedure is now approaching zero.

Like infection rates, the failures of education are often procedural. In the M&M conference, the discussion of acceptable levels of infection sounded like arguments about acceptable levels of student failure. If one-third of students drop out in the first year, some may be ready to claim that those students simply shouldn’t have entered college. What if a hospital said that if it lost a third of its patients, those patients never should have been admitted because they were too sick? Faculty and teaching institutions face many impediments, just like physicians; the conditions and capabilities of our students are often unknown. But what if at some universities the president was called every time a student failed? This proposal sounds crazy, I know, but that’s just the point. We’re too comfortable with our failures; we take them for granted. The good news is that we can do much better. We know a great deal today about how to organize our institutions and classrooms so that students not only stay but achieve at high levels, and research in the cognitive sciences and other fields provides grist for further improvements. I know we lack the resources. I know we lack the administrative and policy support. I know that some students we inherit are already deeply wounded. Nevertheless, we need to ask much more of ourselves. Education is no place for modest ambitions.

Carnegie Perspectives is a series of commentaries that explore different ways to think about educational issues. These pieces are presented with the hope that they contribute to the conversation. You can respond directly to the author at CarnegiePresident@carnegiefoundation.org or you can join a public discussion at Carnegie Conversations.

Join the Carnegie Perspectives email list by sending an email to CarnegiePresident@carnegiefoundation.org with “Subscribe” as the subject line.

675. A PRUDENT PERSPECTIVE ON “THE PERILS OF POWERPOINT®”

Wednesday, October 26th, 2005

Folks:

I received a great deal of feedback on posting #663 THE PERILS OF POWERPOINT ®. Here is one of the responses with a somewhat different perspective. It is by by William R. Hamilton and Melissa F. Beery of Creighton University Medical Center in Omaha, Nebraska. Reprinted with permission.

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu

UP NEXT: Excellence: An Immodest Proposal

Tomorrow’s Teaching and Learning

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A PRUDENT PERSPECTIVE ON “THE PERILS OF POWERPOINT®

William R. Hamilton and Melissa F. Beery

PowerPoint® presentations are becoming the standard method to aid in lectures and college discussions. PowerPoint® is also frequently seen in financial, educational, and other professional institutions. The authors William R. Hamilton and Melissa F. Beery would like to respond to the concerns presented in “The Perils of PowerPoint®” by Thomas R. McDaniel, and Kathryn M McDaniel. PowerPoint® presentations are reviewed in terms of the format, technology, and style.

1. “It’s Inflexible.”

PowerPoint® presentations are inherently flexible because each presenter is different and can adjust the PowerPoint® slides accordingly. For example, if a question is built into the slide, then the presenter can pause for a group discussionŠ.When a person’s lecture is flexible and accommodating, then the PowerPoint® presentation is a reflection of the author. In fact, PowerPoint® is only intended to be a framework for presentation of information and content of the lecture. Teachable moments can be created within that framework. The presenter need not be a slave to PowerPoint®, in that PowerPoint® presentations are as flexible as the author wants them to be.

2. “It’s Risky.”

Risk can be countered with options available outside of the technology. PowerPoint® presenters have a plethora of backup plans available if they chose to use them. A whole system failure is not common but slides can be printed in advance and used in the event the technology doesn’t work at all. File management can be an issue but a CD, flash card, or the presenter can email the presentation to himself can all be options. Presenters need to be aware that a backup method is the key to any technological or other types of “failures,” and then adjustments can be made. For example, a presenter that relies on a prepared report in his briefcase but leaves that briefcase on the subway would be in the same position as the PowerPoint® presenter that is faced with a computer crash. Do the presentations continue in either case? That’s up to the individual person, not the briefcase or PowerPoint®. Backup plans are available almost without limit.

3. “It’s a Crutch.”

In high school speech, some students will use note cards and try to hide their face behind a 3 X 5 card. Some of these students will outgrow their introverted tendencies, while others will not. The same goes for those who use PowerPoint® presentations. Regardless of the tool used, introverted tendencies will occur because of the individual. There are rare instances when a PowerPoint® presenter will try and use their technology as a barrier. However, barriers can be overcome by involving the audience. Some of the best presentations involve PowerPoint® presentations that are paused to allow group work and enhance discussion if the presenter wishes it to do so.

4. “It’s Boring”

It is generally agreed that the more a student is “engaged,” or the more senses are utilized when involved in a discussion, the more the student will retain the information. PowerPoint® enables students to “see” in addition to hear a presentation. A student who wants or needs to “Zone-Out” probably can make that happen even if they were electrocuted by the PowerPoint® presentation as they begin to drift off. Simple entertainment techniques can be added to break up the monotony of a lecture. To blame the technology for “The Zone” is like blaming paper for a poor lecture.

5. “It’s Style without Substance.”

If presenters wish to be successful to any degree, they must learn how to have a bit of style to enhance their presentation. Even a novice can manipulate PowerPoint® to his or her liking with minimal training and experience. On the other hand, PowerPoint® presentations can be tailored to fit even complex discussions. >From graduate students to senior professors, many have used the PowerPoint® format to defend dissertations and present research. Styles will vary depending on the use of PowerPoint®, but the substance is in the content of the lecture.

Like many technological aids for the classroom, PowerPoint® presentations have their advantages and disadvantages. However, PowerPoint® is the correct tool to most likely to be used. It would be difficult to go back to using the chalk board where poor handwriting and broken chalk are almost always an issue. With PowerPoint®, the professor also doesn’t have to spend his time with his back to the students writing everything on the board. Instead, he or she can engage the students when a group discussion question flies in and sparks the intellectual thought process.

674. IN THE CLASSROOM, EASY DOESN’T DO IT

Tuesday, October 25th, 2005

Folks:

The posting below looks at the importance of being a demanding teacher. It is by Joe Ben Hoyle , an associate professor of accounting in the Robins School of Business at the University of Richmond. He has been teaching at the University since 1979. He is a five-time recipient of the University’s Distinguished Educator Award, and he was named “Most Feared Professor” in April 2005 by seniors at the business school. Fall 2005 issue of the Richmond Alumni Magazine. © 2005, Richmond Alumni Magazine. Reprinted with permission.

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu UP NEXT: Prudent Perspective on “The Perils of PowerPoint®”

Tomorrow’s Teaching and Learning

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IN THE CLASSROOM, EASY DOESN’T DO IT

Teaching is serious business. We have wonderfully bright and talented students here at Richmond. They have almost unlimited potential. For most, this is their one shot at college; they deserve nothing less than an excellent education, an academic experience that challenges them to excel from their first day to their last. Faculty members have a responsibility to the world to coax the very best from their students because they will certainly become the next generation of leaders. Where they go from here, what they accomplish, how they impact the world, depends in large part on how much we are able to push and nurture their development. I want every student to leave my class at the end of the semester saying, “I didn’t know that I could work so hard, and I didn’t realize that I could learn so much.” Anything less is unacceptable.

If a teacher challenges students to think and do their best, word gets around campus quickly, but having a tough reputation is both good and bad. When students walk into my class on the first day, they tend to be very quiet and pay attention right away. On the other hand, I am always so disappointed when a student says to me “I hear you are a good teacher, but I didn’t take your class because I know you are very demanding.” Isn’t that just incredibly sad? I think Richmond will be a better school when students sign up only for classes where teachers push them each day to do their best.

Many times during each semester, I point out to my students that the grade of A, according to the University catalogue, reflects “outstanding” work. A student does not earn the grade of A for a good effort, only for consistently outstanding work. Grade inflation has hurt college education across this country and could be fixed simply by faculty members saying, “You earn an A when the work that I see is truly outstanding.” Don’t fool yourself; students are well aware of the difference between “good” and “outstanding.”

I use the Socratic method. I call on every student every day in class. I don’t ask them to regurgitate material; I ask them questions that I believe will cause them to think and reason-on the spot. That is what adult life is like, especially in the business world. I then follow my initial question with others based on their answers. If I don’t get good replies from a student, I don’t just nod and smile; I demand better of them. A student once compared my class to a contact sport. Richmond students should be ready, willing and able to discuss and debate issues. This is college, not high school.

I want a reasonable effort from my students because students get back based on what they put in. I expect them to study four to six hours each week outside of class so they’ll be ready to participate in class discussions. I use carrots and sticks. I say, “Good job!” when a student gives me a thoughtful, well-conceived answer, and I say, “Listen, you can do better than that!” when a student gives me a bad answer. I don’t view that as being disagreeable, although I do realize that it injects a bit of tension into the class. But this is not Sesame Street; a bad answer is a bad answer. There is only one primary goal in my class: to improve each student’s ability to think, reason and understand. Our students realize how capable they are, but human nature loves to take the easy path.

A good basketball coach adapts to the talents of his or her players. A good teacher does the same. You cannot take an identical approach with every student. Some love to be pushed and pushed hard. They enjoy “in-your-face” challenges. Others are more fragile. You have to coax and nurture them. So toughness comes into my class where toughness is necessary. You teach each student, not each group. However, every student needs to be willing to prepare and to think. That is not negotiable.

One of the keys to becoming a good teacher is learning to walk into a room of students and “see” what is happening to the individual members: Billy needs a few extra seconds to formulate an answer, Susan loves to be called on, Andy doesn’t know what is happening right now, Ellen is not prepared. You have to be able to adapt to your students on the spot every day.

Our students can do amazing things, but if we don’t challenge them fully, they will never realize what marvelous talents they truly possess. Signing up for demanding classes might hurt a student’s GPA, but which is more important: developing a good mind or a good GPA?

Joe Ben Hoyle is an associate professor of accounting in the Robins School of Business. He has been teaching at the University since 1979. He is a five-time recipient of the University’s Distinguished Educator Award, and he was named “Most Feared Professor” in April 2005 by seniors at the business school.

© 2005, Richmond Alumni Magazine

673. DIGITAL LIBRARIES: HOW DO YOU GET STUDENTS TO USE THEM?

Thursday, October 20th, 2005

Folks:

The posting below offers some valuable suggestions on helping students make better use of online library information. It is by freelance writer, Jo Ellen Meyers Sharp in the September, 2005 issue of ASEE Prism, Volume 15, Number 1. . Copyright © 2005 ASEE, all rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu UP NEXT: In the Classroom, Easy Doesn’t Do It

Tomorrow’s Teaching and Learning

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DIGITAL LIBRARIES MAKE AMAZING AMOUNTS OF INFORMATION AVAILABLE 24/7, BUT HOW DO YOU GET STUDENTS TO USE THEM?

Digital libraries are quickly becoming the norm at colleges and universities here and abroad as ways to expand the materials available to students and to help them hone their research skills. But this laptop generation-whose idea of research is a quick troll through Google-needs to be encouraged to explore its school’s digital libraries.

But how? The successful use of these libraries is contingent on several factors, including the way the screen looks and keywords used for searching. There’s also a strong link between class assignments and student use of libraries. “We are pushing online access, and most of our faculty members are pretty savvy about incorporating this type of research in the curriculum,” said Michael Fosmire, the librarian responsible for science and engineering libraries at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Ind.

Digital libraries operate at three levels, Fosmire said. The first is any online information. Second comes specialized collections, such as ones for engineers and scientists. Third is an even more narrow collection of papers, research projects, or other materials that may be class-specific, assigned by professors. The latter would be similar to traditional reserved materials, but with the digital library, they are available 24/7 to more than one person at a time, Fosmire said.

As digital libraries continue to develop and become an integral part of student life, the information management systems universities implement will be key to their usage, said Peter Murray, assistant to the director for technology initiatives for the University of Connecticut Libraries. “Our next challenge is to embed our digital library collections and services into the new instructional tools and reposition academic libraries and archives in the creation-acquisition-dissemination flow of our institutions’ research,” Murray wrote in Library Journal.

These management information systems are organized and driven by variable factors, or business logic, that may be unique to a particular vendor or creator; yet, for example, they need to accommodate digital objects in content systems, he said. “Consider the digitized versions of still images of locomotives and rail yards from the early 1900s in the library’s archives. An instructor in engineering pulls selected images into lecture notes on a class Web site to show the mechanics of a steam engine,” Murray explained.

Not all digital libraries are for students. Some, such as the www.teachengineering.com, are for teachers. Launched in January 2005, the website provides standards-based curricula and lesson plans for K-12 teachers. Teachers can search the site by keywords, grade levels, standards, subjects, and activities to find classroom-tested materials, complete with a list of needed supplies, that they can download and use, said Jacqueline Sullivan, co-director of the Integrated Teaching and Learning Program and director of K-12 Engineering, College of Engineering and Applied Science at the University of Colorado in Boulder.

Sullivan is a member of the committee that has worked for three years with the National Science Foundation (NSF) and its National Science, Mathematics, Engineering and Technology Education Digital Library (NSDL) to develop and launch the K-12 Teach Engineering site. The NSDL hosts the site, which is part of a network of downloadable resources for science, technology, engineering, and mathematics education.

Organizing and standardizing access to online digital resources have been NSF priorities since 1994 when grants were awarded to universities and private researchers or corporations to develop software that would allow various collections to interface and allow users to search disparate materials and media, said Lee Zia, lead program director for the NSDL program.

“The consistent message is that Internet usage is way up, and while it might be faster among young people than older, we know that the elder generation is online in a big way,” Zia said. Still, he said, “students are driving this as much as anything.” Time is a factor for students, who are used to 24-hours-a-day, seven-days-a-week access to what they want online. “But it’s been difficult for folks to find good resources they can use,” he said, which is where the NSDL comes into play with its science and engineering niche. Its mission is to deepen and extend science literacy through access to materials and methods that reveal the nature of the physical universe and the intellectual means by which we discover and understand it. Zia said the NSDL has emerged as a center of innovation in digital libraries as applied to education and a community center for groups focused on digital-library-enabled science education.

User-Friendly

Yet most students, faculty members, and the general users muddle through their online experience, according to researchers in the United States and Hong Kong. In the November 2004 issue of Communications of the ACM (Association of Computing Machinery), James Y.L. Thong, Weiyinh Hong and Kar Yan Tam tell of their research students using the Electronic Library of the Open University of Hong Kong. Launched in 1998, the online library has 1,400 databases and 12,000 titles of electronic books, journals, newspapers, and other materials, along with links to another 500,000 volumes at libraries throughout the world. It is the first and largest digital library in Asia.

“The quality of interface plays a major role in influencing the usability of a digital library and is frequently mentioned as a key reason for not using information retrieval systems,” the researchers wrote. Terminology, especially the disparity between the user’s language and that used by digital libraries, which may contain unfamiliar technical or professional terms, can also compromise the ability to retrieve information.

Computer experience, screen design, navigational systems, and how content is organized can either help or hinder the users, the researchers found. Class assignments, the experiences of other users, and word of mouth also influence successful use of digital libraries. “While library administrators do not have control over the amount of computer experience that potential users possess, they can influence users’ exposure to technologies by organizing introductory computer courses for them,” the researchers said.

Mary Ann Fitzgerald, an associate professor in the department of instructional technology at the University of Georgia, analyzed how high school and college students used the virtual library Georgia Library Learning Online (GALILEO). “The comparison of the high school seniors to college seniors gives a fresh perspective of how the college experience contributes to information search skills. It also alerts high school teacher-librarians to collegebound students’ need to progress into college-level skills,” she wrote in the October 2001 issue of Teacher Librarian. “Generally, all of the students were successful in their searches. That is, they all left the session with useful material,” she said. High school students had more difficulty sorting through materials and narrowing their quest.

Both groups of students made mistakes in using the GALILEO system because they didn’t understand the browser and operating systems. They also seemed unable to distinguish the difference between GALILEO and Internet sites. “It would appear that teachers and teacher-librarians must continue to work on technology literacy when lack of it affects the ability to find digitized information,” Fitzgerald said.

Still, the development of digital libraries is not without controversy. Universities are shifting funds from the purchase of hard copies of books, journals, newspapers, and other media to electronic versions and spending even more money to convert their printed words into digital format. Drexel University President Constantine Papadakis caused an uproar last year among faculty members and some students when he said he’d like to see the Philadelphia institution do away with books and operate only a digital library.

Purdue’s Fosmire admits there is tension between the need to conserve the printed word and the transformation to a digital world. Digital information disintegrates fairly quickly, compared with the printed word, which “we know can last almost forever.” However, some library content was never in print, such as movies or music, he said. “It’s just a different way of doing things. We have 3 million volumes, and you might never be able to find what you were looking for” with a physical search through each book, Fosmire said. However, with online digital libraries and efficient search systems, the vast quantities of materials a student needs to study for a final or work on a class assignment are only few clicks away.

Jo Ellen Myers Sharp is a freelance writer based in Indianapolis.

672. ASSESSING MANAGEMENT SKILLS OF JOB CANDIDATES: A PRIVATE SECTOR APPROACH

Wednesday, October 19th, 2005

Folks:

The posting below provides a very interesting account of a new (for academia) approach to assessing job candidates for top level university positions. It is by two participants in the processes, Dr. John Holm who just retired as Director of International Programs at Cleveland State University, and Professor Cliff Studman who recently completed a contract as Director of Research and Development at the University of Botswana, and is currently consulting on research Management. At the time of this posting neither one of them knows who the University plans to appoint.

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu UP NEXT: Digital Libraries, How do You Get Students to Use Them?

Tomorrow’s Academic Careers

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ASSESSING MANAGEMENT SKILLS OF JOB CANDIDATES: A PRIVATE SECTOR APPROACH

John D. Holm and Cliff Studman

The tenure of many top academic administrators is amazingly short. Business deans are a good example with an average tenure of two years. A major cause of the problem is that we have few tools in the search process to evaluate management skills.

Management skills encompass a variety of dimensions: How effective are the candidates at distilling “in-box” information into addressable issues? How effective are they in leading discussions on policy issues, or at participating in discussions? How effective are they in mobilizing external stakeholders? How effective are they interpersonally in a conflict situation? And, can they formulate a clear action plan? All these dimensions are important in determining whether competent academics make good administrators. Academics for the most part do not need management skills. Thus, it is most important that the search process include a serious probing of necessary management skills.

This summer we had a chance to experience one solution to assessing management skills in the hiring process. We both interviewed for a position at the University of Botswana(UB). The interview took three days. The first two were at an “Assessment Center.” The Center’s function was to test for management skills of potential job candidates. The final day was a standard interview with the search committee. The American co-author of this article had never heard of an “Assessment Center?” He decided to research the concept. A business dean friend explained it was a method of interviewing applicants where management skills were assessed. Multi-national corporations had developed the approach in the seventies. The dean had no knowledge of its use at a university. A quick search of the Chronicle and Google turned up no additional information.

The Assessment Center did provide a brief written introduction. The first day included “in-basket” exercises, a meeting with the Vice-Chancellor (the President in the USA), a competency based interview, and a written exercise. The second day entailed a policy discussion, a performance management problem, a presentation, and a debriefing. At some point there would be a “surprise element.” The Center’s hand-out stated our performance would be judged by two “trained” assessors whose judgments had proved “four times more accurate” in “predicting future performance” than the “standard interview”.

The Center was in four rooms at a hotel near the university. We started at 8:30AM in the main room that held three computers. There was one for each of us being assessed. Most surprising was that the person at the computer next to us (namely the other co-author of this piece) was the other candidate for the job for which we were interviewing.

The first exercise, the “in-basket”, concerned twelve written items (letters, emails, and a budget). All the items dealt with current issues facing the UB administration. The task was to analyze the twelve, identify the key issues, and then briefly flesh out an action plan. Next, we wrote several memoranda using the information from the in-basket to respond to particular action requests. In effect, the in-basket exercises forced us to respond to real UB problems playing out in practical, if made-up, situations. The second half of our morning was taken up with the “surprise element”. A group of radical students had taken the Vice-Chancellor hostage in his office. Each of us was alone in a room with someone acting as Deputy Vice-Chancellor (i.e. Provost in the USA). He gave us a certain number of facts orally. We then asked for additional facts (testing ability to elicit relevant information). We then made action recommendations to the DVC. Finally, the DVC gave us several additional facts and asked whether we wanted to amend our initial plan of action.

After lunch came the competency-based interview. It was fairly standard. The interviewer requested that we give at least one example of where we had demonstrated various managerial abilities and situation in which we had failed to do so.

The next exercise was most challenging. The head of the Assessment Center provided us with an analysis two UB faculty had written arguing that the university was failing to become internationally competitive. On the basis of the authors’ analysis, we were to draft a development plan for the office we were seeking to head. The plan was to include: strategic action plan for each objective, relevant external and internal stake- holders, and a communication strategy. We had from 4PM till 8:30AM the next day to finish plan! Both of us produced a six-page, single-spaced document. When one of us was asked at his interview with the Search Committee (the third day) to provide a vision for our job, he handed the members a typed copy of the development plan statement given to the Assessment Center the previous day.

The second day was as demanding as the first. It went from 8:30AM to 4PM, with an hour for lunch. First was a “policy group” exercise. Both of us participated in three discussions along with a candidate for another UB position. Each of us led a discussion on a different policy issue. One, for example, concerned limiting accumulation of faculty vacation leave. The leader was to encourage both a diversity of ideas and a consensus recommendation. We were judged both as participants and discussion leaders.

For the rest of day we proceeded individually, starting with a “managing performance” exercise. It had two parts. First we received four memoranda related to an employee causing conflict in the computer information unit. We wrote a formal letter to the person regarding what would happen if the behavior continued. Second, a few minutes after we had submitted the letter, the employee came into the exercise room to dispute the interpretations in our letter and to threaten to file a complaint with the union. Our objective in a half hour was both to persuade the worker not go to the union and to obtain a commitment for changed behavior.

After the lunch break, we returned for the final exercise, presenting to an external stakeholder. Our task was to make a pitch for Ministry of Education financial support as the university moved from total government financing to securing tuition and private sector support. We were given a briefing paper and half an hour to prepare. Then, a top finance official at the Ministry of Education walked into the room to engage us in a discussion. A member of the Assessment Center was also present. We made a fifteen-minute talk; then the Ministry of Education official grilled us with questions, which were very well informed.

The debriefing was straightforward. Two assessors would evaluate and grade our performance on each exercise. The Center would provide a written report to the university in two weeks. If we wanted to see the report, we should request a copy from UB. Our reactions to the process are as follows:

1) The exercises required real concentration. There was a mass of detail to absorb. Quick and analytical responses were required.

2) While it was not exactly like being at the office, we both had the feeling we were behaving much like we did in our real offices.

3) The amount of information produced requires substantial time to analyze unless the assessors are sophisticated. We doubt “trained” assessors can do as well as experienced administrators.

4) The cost had to be considerable: four staff; four “actors” who played roles in two exercises; four hotel rooms; and staff time for analysis and write-up.

Because of the time and cost factors, most American universities will be hesitant to set up an Assessment Center. However, for upper-level administrators like deans and vice presidents, this approach should pay off. Skilled, top-level managers have a major impact on a large organization in terms of efficiency, mobilizing staff, channeling conflict to productive outcomes, and recruiting external partners. The problems finding good managers at the dean’s level are particularly serious. Thus, the investment at this level will pay big dividends. Moreover, the presence of a cadre of skilled mangers at the dean level should provide better role models for academics further down the ladder.

Care should be taken in selecting a company to set up an Assessment Center. Management skills are not the same for the university as for the private sector. There must be sensitivity to the diffuse authority structure of academia. This means assessing candidates’ abilities to facilitate intense debate, to delegate responsibility, and to encourage consensus. Also, we concluded on the basis of our Botswana experience that the assessors should be experienced and effective academic administrators. Assessors who are “trained” to use a check-list to report the presence or absence of certain behaviors are likely not to catch the impact of various combinations of management skills. Seasoned managers are more likely to recognize a good manager or a person with potential. We also expect that such assessors could write up their conclusions immediately upon completing their observation.

Over the last half-century universities have changed from being small collections of scholars and students to large, complex bureaucracies. A new leadership is required, one that has both scholarly and managerial abilities. Only persons with the latter skills will be able to insure that bureaucracy sustains the scholarly mission. We believe that the Assessment Center approach, which some of the world’s best corporations use to hire top managers, should be considered as an essential component in the academic search process.

671. BUILDING THE ADMINISTRATIVE PORTFOLIO

Thursday, October 13th, 2005

Folks:

The posting below looks at the steps required for building an administrative portfolio. It is from Chapter 8, Building the Administrative Portfolio, in The Administrative Portfolio; A Practical Guide to Improved Administrative Performance and Personnel Decisions, by Peter Seldin, Lubin School of Business, Pace University, Pleasantville, NY and Mary Lou Higgerson, Baldwin-Wallace College, Berea, Ohio. ISBN 1-882982-47-9, Anker Publishing Company, Inc., 176 Ballville Road, P.O. Box 249, Bolton, MA 01740-0249 US. [www.ankerpub.com]. Copyright © 2002 by Anker Publishing Company, Inc. All rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu UP NEXT: Quality and Performance Excellence in Higher Education

Tomorrow’s Academic Careers

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BUILDING THE ADMINISTRATIVE PORTFOLIO

In the preceding chapters, the writers describe what an administrative portfolio is, why and how it can be useful, and delineate the basic ingredients required to create one. This chapter details the process of building an administrative portfolio.

Step 1. Determine the Purpose for Building an Administrative Portfolio

The task of building an administrative portfolio will progress more smoothly if the administrator begins by reflecting on the purpose and audience for the portfolio. Why compile a portfolio? Will it serve as a means to evaluate and improve performance in the administrator’s current position? Will it be used as part of a formal performance appraisal? Will the portfolio to be used to seek another position? Is the administrator preparing the portfolio to leave a written legacy to benefit others who will assume similar responsibilities? The administrator may intend for the portfolio to serve multiple purposes, but it will be important to distinguish between primary and secondary purposes because the priorities for building a portfolio are likely to influence decisions about its content.

Step 2. Identify the Anticipated Readers of the Portfolio

Once the purpose for preparing a portfolio is clear in the administrator’s mind, it should be relatively easy to identify the anticipated readers (self? supervisor? prospective employer? review committee? search committee?). The list of anticipated readers will inform decisions about how best to structure and draft the portfolio narrative. For example, if the sole purpose is self-reflection to further improve job performance, the administrator can abbreviate the explanation of position responsibilities that would be needed if the portfolio were to be read by someone who is less familiar with the administrator’s current responsibilities. If the portfolio will be used to support a job application, the content needs to include description sufficient for readers who have no familiarity with the administrator’s current position and duties. It will be useful to keep the anticipated readers in mind as the administrator moves through the portfolio building process and makes decisions about its content.

Step 3. Develop the Table of Contents for the Administrative Portfolio

It is helpful to develop the overall plan for the portfolio before the administrator begins to write. In Chapter Six of this text, the writers provide some suggestions on what the table of contents might look like for an administrative portfolio compiled for the purpose of evaluation, and how the table of contents might be altered to prepare a portfolio for improvement. The administrator is not bound to use either of these models. Rather, the specific table of contents included in the administrative portfolio should be unique to the administrator and the purpose of building the portfolio. For example, if the administrator is building a portfolio for improvement but also wants the reflective process inherent in portfolio writing to help assess the best job fit, the administrator may want to add a section that details those aspects of the administrator’s current position which are enjoyable and comfortable and those which the administrator finds extremely uncomfortable to perform. Conceptualize the table of contents as a road map that directs the reader in discovering who the administrator is and why the administrator functions as he or she does in the position.

Step 4. Write the Basic Portfolio Information

The portfolio should include certain basic information even though the actual presentation of this information will vary from one portfolio to another. The administrator’s portfolio should include an introduction, a summary of administrative responsibilities, and a description of the administrator’s approach to administration. These three components typically become the first three sections of the portfolio.

The introduction describes the purpose of the portfolio (improvement? personnel decisions? grant? seek employment? legacy?), the institutional context (size, mission, campus culture, public or private), and the administrative unit directed by the administrator (department? division? college? institution?). The overall length of the introduction is usually no more than three or four paragraphs.

The summary of administrative responsibilities should read like an operational position description. It should be more than a list of what the administrator does in that the statement of administrative responsibilities should provide a sense of the breadth and complexity of the administrator’s current duties. For example, rather than merely listing a task force that the administrator chairs, offer a brief description of the responsibility that allows the reader to assess the magnitude of the activity (e.g., chair campus-wide task force appointed by the president). Similarly, if the administrator spends a significant amount of time nurturing untenured faculty, describe the magnitude of this responsibility by giving the number of untenured faculty currently mentored and providing specific examples that illustrate the type of professional coaching offered.

It is helpful to organize the summary of administrative responsibilities so that the reader can easily grasp the magnitude and complexity of each administrative duty. If, for example, the bulk of the administrator’s time is spent on personnel matters because the administrator chairs a department of 40 full-time and dozens of part-time faculty, then the personnel responsibilities of the administrator’s position should be listed first. If during recent years a significant portion of the administrator’s time has been directed toward fundraising and development activities, give this responsibility a more prominent placement in the summary statement.

Do not limit the administrator’s summary to tasks included on the generic position description included in the institution’s policy manual if the assigned responsibilities have changed or expanded beyond those listed. Typically individuals who are very skilled at their job take on more responsibilities than the duties listed in initial position description. One advantage of preparing an administrative portfolio is to illustrate how a particular position has evolved to encompass new responsibilities. The summary should also include any agreement, formal or informal, that the administrator may have made with the supervisor concerning specific and/or additional responsibilities that the administrator has undertaken. The summary of administrative responsibilities rarely exceeds one page in length.

The third item of basic information included in all administrative portfolios is a description of the administrator’s approach to administration. In the table of contents, the administrator may wish to title this statement, “philosophy of administration,” “approach to administration,” “administrative objectives and methodology,” or “administrative strategies.” Whatever the specific title, this statement is a two- to three-page reflective description of the administrator’s perspective on how one should carry out the responsibilities of the position. In this section, the administrator informs the reader about how and why the administrator carries out the assigned responsibilities as he or she does.

The statement will have more meaning if the administrator includes specific examples of administrative practices that show how the methodologies used fit administrative objectives within the context of the institution’s mission and campus culture. In this section, the administrator provides the reader with a sense of the values and priorities that the administrator brings to the position and the administrator’s logic for decision-making, approach to supervising others, and manner for working with colleagues. This section of the portfolio offers the reader a more insightful look at how the administrator does the job than the reader might get from observing the administrator. When assessments are based on third-party observations, the administrator being described or evaluated is at the mercy of those things the observer elects to notice, whereas the administrator controls the content of the portfolio and, therefore, builds the perceptual frame from which the reader will view and assess the administrator’s performance. At a minimum, make certain that the portfolio addresses the key aspects of how the administrator approaches the position responsibilities.

Step 5. Select a Portfolio Mentor

The writers recommend that the administrator use a mentor in building the portfolio. In Chapter Three of this text, the authors describe the benefits of collaboration and suggest who might serve as a mentor for the portfolio process. Depending on the purpose of preparing the portfolio, the ideal mentor may be the administrator’s supervisor or another colleague at the home institution. The administrator may also use a professional colleague from a different institution. The mentor can be anyone the administrator believes can coach him or her through a reflective process in which the administrator analyzes how he or she performs the administrative responsibilities. To be effective, the mentor must have the interpersonal skills and attitude necessary to develop the type of relationship needed for effective mentoring. The administrator’s mentor must also have knowledge of measures and procedures for assessing effective administrative performance.

The administrator will want to select and involve the mentor after determining the portfolio purpose and anticipated readers. If the administrator’s mentor is unfamiliar with the portfolio, the mentor may find it helpful to review this text before beginning work. Once the mentor is briefed on the portfolio, he or she will be ready to review the draft introduction, summary of administrative responsibilities, and statement of administrative philosophy. If the administrator finds it difficult to draft these items, he or she will want to involve the mentor to talk through the content of the first three sections of basic portfolio information.

Please remember that the administrator’s mentor can only be effective in helping prepare the portfolio if the administrator engages openly in a reflective collaboration about his or her administrative responsibilities and job performance. The administrator must resolve to approach this exercise in an objective, analytical manner. If he or she becomes defensive, there is not much that the mentor can do to help, and the administrator will fail to realize the many benefits of preparing an administrative portfolio.

If, for any reason, the administrator decides to self-mentor, the writers recommend that he or she read Chapter Nine on serving as a portfolio mentor and answer the questions recommended for the mentors. The administrator should consider using a colleague to discuss one or more specific issues relevant to the portfolio to help with the decisions that are best made when corroborated. For example, if the administrator is unsure whether a particular illustration evidences a certain skill, the administrator can corroborate the thinking on this one aspect with someone even if the administrator does not have a mentor for the entire portfolio writing process.

Step 6. Select Items for the Portfolio

In addition to the basic portfolio information (introduction, summary of responsibilities, and description of administrative philosophy), the administrator will want to select other items that illustrate his or her administrative style (behaviors) and offer evidence of administrative effectiveness (outcomes). The items that project the style will describe how the administrator approaches such activities as decision-making, planning, organizing, and communicating. The items that indicate the administrator’s effectiveness will inevitably include demonstrable results (awarded accreditation, grants received, increased diversity) and performance evaluation data. The items included in the portfolio should provide the teacher with an assessment of the administrator’s capacity for, and effectiveness in, performing the assigned responsibilities. Collectively, the items included in the portfolio should give the reader a clear impression of such important aspects as the administrator’s knowledge about the position, acumen for resource and personnel management, interpersonal skill, professional judgment, and commitment to professional growth.

The items included in the portfolio may come from oneself or from others. In Chapter Five of this text, the writers present a sampling of the types of items that might be included in a portfolio. While this is not an exhaustive list, it illustrates the range of items that might be selected to evidence the administrative style and effectiveness. It is important to remember that no single item in the portfolio can possibly provide a comprehensive view of the administrator’s performance. Rather, the reader’s impression of that performance will culminate from a summative review of all the items included in the portfolio. The selection of particular items for the portfolio offers comment on the administrator’s personal priorities and preferences, administrative style, and particular responsibilities

Since the portfolio derives from a reflective, collaborative process, it is possible that each new step will cause the administrator to fine tune previous steps. For example, as the administrator chooses the items to be included in the portfolio, he or she may find it necessary to modify the table of contents or to retitle some of the sections of the portfolio. The administrator may even want to reconsider the purpose for building a portfolio and perhaps sharpen the focus of the introduction to the portfolio.

Step 7. Prepare Statements on Each Item

For each of the administrative responsibilities listed, prepare a statement of the administrator’s activities, initiatives, and accomplishments. If, for example, one responsibility is faculty development, the administrator may engage in such activities and initiatives as conducting annual performance counseling sessions with individual faculty, starting a mentoring program for new faculty hires, or implementing a teaching portfolio program focused on improvement of individual faculty. The administrator’s accomplishments might include coaching six untenured faculty through successful tenure application and securing funds from the central administration to support faculty travel to professional conferences. The objective for the statement is to inform the reader of the nature and extent of work performed by the administrator for each position responsibility.

Step 8. Select and Organize the Appendices

The narrative of the typical portfolio is approximately eight to 12 double-spaced pages. The items included in the narrative are supported by documentation that is presented in a series of appendices. Resist the temptation to include many lengthy documents as appendices. The appendices will only serve the intended purpose if they are of a manageable number and length for the reader to digest. The information presented in the appendices serves as supportive evidence for statements made in the portfolio. Documents presented as appendices may include performance evaluation data, reports, letters from accrediting bodies or other external reviewers, and documents or materials prepared by the administrator in performing assigned responsibilities.

The administrator may find it useful to flag the statements made in the draft portfolio that warrant some type of supporting evidence and make certain that there is appropriate and sufficient support for each statement included in the appendices. It is entirely possible that one supporting item can be used to document several statements. For example, if one major responsibility involved preparing a department for accreditation review, the letter from the accrediting agency is likely to address many, if not all, of the varied aspects of this administrative responsibility.

Step 9. Present the Portfolio

It is efficient and practical to organize the portfolio in a single three-ring binder that arranges the various documents and materials in separate sections labeled with identification tabs. Once everything is in final form, the administrator will want to allow his or her portfolio mentor to review it. If the administrator has collaborated with a mentor in building the portfolio, the administrator will discover that the mentor is as invested in the final product as the administrator. Consequently, portfolio mentors are typically excellent proofreaders.

If possible, the administrator may want to have the portfolio reviewed by one or a few individuals who did not collaborate on its preparation to determine if the portfolio achieves the intended purpose. The writers recommend that the administrator meet individually with anyone reading the portfolio to hear firsthand the reader’s reaction to it. The session will be more productive if the administrator resists the temptation to defend what is in the portfolio but asks specific follow-up questions in order to understand how the content was received. Such invited reviews of the portfolio will provide the administrator with useful feedback on whether the portfolio content and presentation serves the intended purpose.

670. HEALING TIME: PEACEMAKING IN TWO TROUBLED DEPARTMENTS

Tuesday, October 11th, 2005

Folks:

In this postings, Robert Sommer, distinguished professor of psychology emeritus at the University of California, Davis., describes his efforts to resolve major department conflicts. He has had plenty of experience. In his time at Davis he chaired four departments, three of them as an outside chair specifically brought in to resolve conflicts. Reprinted from an unpublished article with permission of the author who can be reached at: [rosommer@ucdavis.edu].

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu UP NEXT: Building the Administrative Portfolio

Tomorrow’s Academia

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HEALING TIME – PEACEMAKING IN TWO TROUBLED DEPARTMENTS

Bob Sommer

After teaching on the same campus for over 30 years, I was ready for a new challenge. When offered the opportunity to become outside chair of a department in turmoil, I eagerly accepted. Trained as a social psychologist, I had a professional and a personal interest in conflict resolution. This would be an opportunity to try out some of the theories that I had taught in my classes and to give something back to the university.

The Widget Department had been established in 1983 to house two programs in the applied arts, each of which had separated from a different department. At the time of my arrival, the two programs were in open conflict, far beyond the moderate amount that some organizational theorists view as necessary for optimal job performance. I was appointed outside chair by the college dean with the assent of faculty in the two programs following several years of fruitless mediation and negotiation. There had been more than 30 meetings between faculty representing the two programs during the previous year. Each group felt that the other was unwilling to negotiate. The French describe this as le dialogue des sourds, a dialogue of the deaf, in which each speaks but neither hears what is said. The conflict was overt, with threats of lawsuits, resignations, and transfers. If I had been brought in at an earlier stage, it would have been logical to bring people together to negotiate. In a state of open warfare, this approach did not seem practicable or fruitful.

In approaching novel situations, I often use metaphor. Metaphors serve as fresh sources of insight for analysis and solutions. If the metaphor proves deceptive, superficial, or incomplete, it is easily modified or discarded. Taking the problem into a different conceptual realm also provides oft-needed detachment.

The Widget Department resembled Beirut of the early 1980s, a city in anarchy, where armed militias roamed, took hostages, made demands, and terrorized the civilian population. Cease-fires were declared and broken with regularity. Snipers operated on both sides of the green line. Using Beirut as metaphor, I developed an agenda for the Widget Department based on a sequence of tasks: stop the shooting, disarm the militias; free the hostages; comfort survivors; neutralize snipers; locate booby-traps and mine fields; develop common projects for the two units; cope with outside threats; find indigenous leadership; ratify a formal peace treaty; and create a new structure.

These measures proved successful in reducing the conflict. New leadership was found from among those who had not been directly involved in the conflict and a structure created that would minimize the occurrence of future conflict. Each program was given its own budget, space, and personnel procedures. The shared features of the two programs would continue, in terms of a joint administrative center, computer laboratory, shop, and a few other designated facilities that would benefit from economies of scale. There would be no department chair as such. Each program head would possess the authority of a chair in dealing with outside authorities and report to a different associate dean. The deans strongly supported the new arrangement since it retained economies associated with a combined department while separating the two programs in those areas previously associated with conflict. One year later, comments regarding the administrative structure from department members continued to be positive, and the dean’s office expressed sufficient confidence in the new structure to allow each program to recruit for new faculty members. No new hiring had been done during my three-year term, reflecting the administration’s earlier lack of confidence in the unit.

Creating conditions necessary for stability required three years of intense effort. The experience exacted a heavy psychological cost. I frequently had difficulty getting to sleep, tossed and turned throughout the night, and awoke not feeling rested. My emotional life was drained and anhedonic; my libido disappeared. This allowed me to focus attention on department matters. There was no deterioration in my ability to pull together information, ignore distractions, answer correspondence, or write reports. I found myself able to give more to the Widget Department than to my family or hobbies.

As my assignment in the Widget Department drew to a close, I sent feelers to several deans seeking a new challenge. There were a number of equally troubled departments on campus lacking competent leadership. I expressly hoped for an assignment in an unfamiliar field. I believe that the skills required of a department chair, like those of deans, college presidents, and clerical staff, are generic rather than specific to a field or discipline. Becoming chair of Chemistry or Nematology, as examples, would provide an opportunity for me to test the concept of generic chairship.

Within two weeks of my leaving the Widget Department, a dean asked me to chair the DE Department housing two programs, one in humanities and the other in social science. Based on the duality in the department name, I supposed that this was another Lebanon with warring militias. As I spent more time in DE, I dropped the metaphor of Beirut. I found interpersonal hostility, nepotism, inertia, and rampant self-interest. I began to think of DE as a superfund site which EPA had sent me to clean up. The contamination was widespread, had seeped into cracks and crevices, and was working its way down into the groundwater where it might contaminate other localities. The office staff and the undergraduates, perhaps like the cockroaches who can survive radioactive contamination, seemed protected by their lack of power and involvement.

I did not succeed in cleaning up the toxic contamination. My appointment was for an initial year, renewable for a second. I lasted only a single year, plus an additional month when no successor could be located. I was requested by the dean to remain longer but declined. Based on my experiences during the first year, there was no possibility of a successful clean-up. Polluters were still on-site adding to the mountain of untreated refuse. The worst offenders considered themselves immune from regulations. I could not buy out the polluters and did not possess the authority to control their activities. Mere argument proved ineffective in preventing all but the most egregious toxic dumping. Where previously this had been done in daylight, now it took place at night or surreptitiously dripped from unmarked truck beds onto public roads. My superiors showed no inclination to challenge the existing order. If I had been totally immersed in the metaphor, I would have imagined that they were paid off by the polluters. Given the realities of academe, it was more reasonable to imagine that my superiors wanted to avoid an unpleasant and probably unwinnable political and legal battle. I could have borne the burdens if there had been a long-term solution, but there was not. I began to think of myself as part of the problem. So long as I remained in DE, and could restrict the seepage of toxic materials from the site, my superiors could turn their attention to other, more critical problems.

Imagining DE as a pollution hot spot suggested three solutions–on-site treatment, dilution, and dispersal. Treatment on-site required mechanical or biological cleaning systems appropriate for the particular contaminants and the authority and resources to use them. The laissez faire regulatory climate of the campus precluded this approach since the worst polluters acted as if they had lifetime licenses for dumping. I lacked the authority to go beyond persuasion and negotiation which had probably been as successful in halting industrial pollution as they were in DE. Any attempt to apply sanctions would lack outside support and meet immediate legal challenge.

An alternative would be dilution of contaminants by bringing in benign materials. In a larger mass, the harmful effects of contaminants will be less strong. Unfortunately, budget stringencies limited importation of new materials to the site. Besides, my superiors were not willing to commit fresh resources into a toxic dump that had resisted all clean-up efforts. They believed, and I could not contradict them, that contamination of the new materials would be more likely than an overall reduction in toxicity.

The third option for dealing with the contamination was dispersal. Trucking toxic materials to other sites would accomplish several objectives. It would lower pollution levels in DE and make the problems on-site more manageable.

I spent my last month in DE attempting to export faculty. The deans and I talked with individual faculty and approached other units that might be suitable homes. With its reputation for discord, it was not unexpected that potential hosts should display a NIMBY attitude. We considered remote locations, across jurisdictional boundaries. The legal and procedural requirements of such transfers proved formidable and our barges full of toxic waste were consistently rejected by ports with strong regulatory authority. We found several smaller ports so desperate for trade that they were willing not to inspect the cargo too closely. The solution was to export everything for which a destination could be found and keep the remainder together for a transitional period, during which time additional efforts at dispersal would be made.

Comparing the two experiences as outside chair, I can identify several reasons for the different outcomes. Time is an important consideration in healing. I spent three years in the Widget Department and one year in DE. I would have stayed longer in DE, except for another difference between the two experiences. The dean had told faculty in the Widget Department that they would have to remain together as an administrative unit, that each was too small to exist independently. This allowed me to base my reform efforts on the assumption that if people had to live together, they should learn to get along. In contrast, the dean responsible for DE had given the green light to faculty transfers to other units. This removed any motivation on the part of faculty who saw greener pastures elsewhere to make accommodations with their colleagues. It was the proposed departure of almost half of the DE faculty, which had been initiated before my arrival, that led me to conclude that the DE Department had no future.

Another reason for the difference in the two outcomes was that I could locate a “center” in the Widget Department but not in DE. There were faculty in both Widget programs who had not been actively involved in the earlier conflicts. Perhaps because DE was a smaller unit, and the chair had been the direct source of many of the problems, none of the faculty in DE had escaped involvement. There was no center in DE separate from the warring factions.

Finally, personal animosities were more extreme in DE than in the Widget Department. The latter represented intergroup conflict (Program A versus Program B) while Department DE was characterized more by interpersonal hostility. As an outside chair in the Widget Department, my authority was used to separate the two programs, but in the incestuous family-like setting of DE, individuals were constantly insulting and sniping at one another. There were no clear turf lines to be drawn in this type of situation. People had offices next to one another and all shared the same small space and facilities.

This combination of factors, the increased time spent in the Widget Department (three years as compared with one), the decision of higher authority to keep the Widget Department together as compared to a green light for departures in DE, the existence of a center in the Widget Department and none in DE, and the more intense personal animosities in DE, accounted for the difference in the effectiveness of my intervention.

There were people in both departments that I liked and respected. Those in DE were no more or less productive or creative than those in the Widget Department. By coincidence each department at the beginning of my term contained two bomb throwers. The two in the Widget Department either departed or retired before my term ended. One of those in DE was slated for a transfer to another department during my term. The second desired to transfer but no department wanted this person. If I had worked at it, I probably could have located a home for the second bomb thrower. However, if the two bomb throwers were allowed to transfer, it would be difficult to deny the same option to other faculty seeking a more productive work environment. Given the small size of the unit, the exodus would have had significant implications for the future viability of the unit. Time was a positive factor in allowing for the transfer of disruptive faculty, but a negative in terms of the bleak future for a unit that had shrunk below critical size for survival. I blame myself for leaving DE before problems could be resolved, but seeing no future for the department erased any desire to remain longer.

669. FACULTY AS MENTOR

Thursday, October 6th, 2005

Folks:

The posting below looks offers some provocative comments on the professors’ role as mentor to students. It is from Chapter 19: Reconceptualizing the Faculty Role: Alternative Models, by James R. Chan, Michael V. Fortunato, Alan Mandell, Susan Oaks, and Duncan RyanMann, SUNY Empire State College, in Reinventing Ourselves, Interdisciplinary Education, Collaborative Learning, and Experimentation in Higher Education, Barbara Leigh Smith & John McCann, Editors. The Evergreen State College. Copyright © 2001 by Anker Publishing Company, Inc. All rights reserved. ISBN 1-882982-35-5. Anker Publishing Company, Inc. 176 Ballville Road P.O. Box 249 Bolton, MA 01740-0249 [www.ankerpub.com] Reprinted with permission.

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu UP NEXT: Healing Time: Peacemaking in Two Troubled Departments

Tomorrow’s Academic Careers

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FACULTY AS MENTOR

A certain privilege has traditionally been associated with the status of the faculty member: access to specialized knowledge, the prerogative to identify what is important to learn, the right to impart that knowledge to those who come to us to gain it, and the authority to judge if another has acquired appropriate learning. In conventional academic settings, the very expertise of the faculty has been framed by a set of boundaries that separated faculty from students. Faculty held the important knowledge, conveyed it to those who cared to know, and developed criteria for and carried out what was determined to be appropriate evaluation.

The presuppositions of such a model have been opened to debate by a range of issues and realities that now characterize our educational landscape. We live in a world where the question of what is important to know is not easily answered and where the amount of knowledge at least theoretically available to us continues to expand at a phenomenal rate: that is, in a world where such authority is fleeting. Even the supposedly clear and meaningful disciplinary conditions that informed so much of our own education and our identities as academic professions have been thrown into question. No thoughtful faculty person can know enough about what there is to know to make final claims about that knowledge.’

Further, the institutions within which we work have dramatically changed. The range of students who enter our classrooms-in terms of ethnicity, race, gender, age, and life experiences-has expanded. It is nearly impossible to prejudge who will sit before us, what they already know, what they want to know, and what tools we might employ to most effectively help them learn. What we had taken for granted before (however appropriately or inappropriately) we cannot assume today.

Institutions have responded to some of these realities in a number of ways. The drive to find a viable market niche and to respond to new clientele has meant more flexible schedules, evening classes, weekend options, distance learning programs, the formal acknowledgement of learning gained outside of accredited academic institutions, and institutional fixtures (from orientations to the library to course guides) that are more user-friendly. Clearly, colleges have become more aware of trying to meet the needs of an increasingly diverse student body-of providing levels of access, particularly through newly devised delivery systems that had not existed before.

Most of these institutional changes have been at the edges of faculty experience. They have not usually touched the more protected arena of faculty privilege. Particularly with the inclusion of a greater number of working adult students, however, faculty have been called upon to expand the range and nature of their interactions with students. On a simple level, it has not been unusual for faculty to have increased the hours they are available to students outside of the classroom. More significantly, because of the experiences, goals, dilemmas, and academic strengths and weaknesses that these so-called nontraditional students have brought to our academic worlds, faculty have found themselves taking on more advisory roles, serving as guides and consultants, and helping their students negotiate their way through formerly alien academic terrain to gain the kinds of skills and competencies that we know they need. The inclusion of such a counseling dimension into the very fabric of many of our lives as academic instructors has also meant a subtle but important shift in the nature of communication between faculty and student. We have learned to listen with new attentiveness and care, knowing that our ability to understand and respond is directly related to our students’ success as learners.

But the most powerful shift occurs when the interrelated movement from providing better institutional access to listening and counseling does touch the very core of the conventional faculty role. And it is here that the potential of a new relationship between students and teacher emerges. As Mandell and Herman (1996) have described such a collaborative stance is at the heart of the role of faculty as mentor. That is, in an institutional context that works for true access (not only for admittance but for the possibility of success), listening becomes a necessary art, and teaching-and the knowledge upon which it is based-becomes an ongoing project of locating and/or creating imaginative learning tools to respond to the academic needs of individual students whose voices we can never disregard. Garrison (1992) describes the emerging dialog this way:

Only through continuous and critical dialogue between learner and facilitator can a dynamic and optimal balance of control be realized. The balance of control will probably shift depending on the context and the proficiency of the learner. However, through sharing control there is an increased probability of students reaching desired and worthwhile learning goals which, in turn, would result in improved motivation, ability to learn, and self-directedness. (p. 144)

In the last few years, the word mentoring has taken on a rather hierarchical cast. In such contexts (many of them corporate), mentors are experienced guides who know and can offer expert advice, those who have been especially successful and can show others how to succeed. But the notion of faculty as mentor introduced here emphasizes sharing control and meaningful reciprocity. In fact, it is about the deliberate creation of opportunities for common learning. It also is motivated by the quest to follow the lead offered by an individual student’s questions, concerts, or idiosyncratic understanding into new areas of academic exploration, even those that stretch and challenge our own sense of what we know. In this way, mentoring accents the importance of our strengths as academic generalists who have learned to work with problems that cut across the disciplines and themes that are inherently interdisciplinary. Mentoring embeds us in a distinctive approach to teaching and learning that deliberately legitimates the questioning of faculty authority and the claims to knowledge upon which that authority rests. By inviting a student to participate in his/her own learning (for example, through faculty and students creating individualized learning contracts as an integral part of the learning process or working together to design an entire curriculum), and by providing room for a student to gain the new skills necessary to work independently, we offer ourselves as engaged interlocutors who demonstrate that we care deeply about dialog and reflection and about the critical examination of pertinent questions, many of which were not our questions at the start.

In effect, through interactions with their students, mentors try to model the very kind of learning they hope their students will continue to pursue. That is, in a quite powerful and palpable way, the ideal of lifelong learning, usually reserved for students, equally pertains to the faculty mentor. We are always in the process of creating new studies with students, tinkering with old plans, searching for and coordinating effective resources, immersing ourselves in a new question, following the lead of an issue that a student has begun to articulate, making connections with a colleague who may offer a suggestive direction. We are, above all, listening, guiding, trying out new learning strategies, and staying alert to what may become yet another opening.

Perhaps like all more democratic experiments, the experience of faculty as mentor is a rather precarious one. Traditional faculty authority has been based on bodies of knowledge and academic structures that reinforce them. To enter a world of mentoring is to practice with the expectation that through serious and honest discourse and negotiation (and a community of other mentors who can provide support, encouragement, and critical scrutiny), plans for individual studies and curricula can be built that are academically rich and that flow from the lives of our students as parents, workers, scholars, members of a community, and citizens. To gain experience in such a faculty role that emphasizes not separation but connection, dialog, and a reweaving of relationships of authority is, in itself, a new kind of privilege.

668. RISING ABOVE COGNITIVE ERRORS: GUIDELINES FOR SEARCH, TENURE REVIEW, AND OTHER EVALUATION COMMITTEES

Tuesday, October 4th, 2005

Folks:

The posting below looks at a “number of cognitive errors and shortcuts routinely and unwittingly made by individual evaluators, and then casts light on seven common dysfunctions within academic organizations that can and usually do intensify the severity of the cognitive errors.” It is by JoAnn Moody, a national diversity consultant who works with a variety of campuses. It is from “Rising Above Cognitive Errors: Guidelines for Search, Tenure Review, and other Evaluation Committees” which was released in April 2005. More information can be found at her website: [www.DiversityOnCampus.com].

Regards,

Rick Reis reis@stanford.edu UP NEXT: Faculty as Mentor

Tomorrow’s Academia

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RISING ABOVE COGNITIVE ERRORS: GUIDELINES FOR SEARCH, TENURE REVIEW, AND OTHER EVALUATION COMMITTEES

JoAnn Moody, PhD, JD National Diversity Consultant Director, Northeast Consortium for Faculty Diversity

Cognitive scientists are proving definitively that many of the selection and evaluation tasks we undertake on a daily basis are alarmingly “contaminated.” The contaminants-what can be generically termed cognitive shortcuts and errors-are present in academia as we gather and sort through information, interpret it, and then come to decisions and evaluations about, for instance, job candidates, tenure and promotion cases, grant and fellowship applicants.

During these intense cognitive processes, all or most of us unwittingly commit a variety of errors and automatically take shortcuts. If we are rushed and distracted, then the errors and shortcuts multiply. In such situations, it is easy to appreciate the humor and truth in the epigram: “Search committees represent academia at its most dysfunctional.” When those involved in searches are not given the opportunity to be thorough, deliberate, and careful in their decision-making, then dysfunction will result.

The tenure review process, especially when rushed, can also reveal colleges and universities at their most disappointing. The behind-closed-doors process is at times corrupted by a number of “small-minded” actions, such as “back-scratching, institutional politics, envy, nepotism, spite, or personal hostility” expressed and acted out against the tenure candidate by one or more members of the review committee.

My Purpose. Evaluators and decision-makers in higher education, I maintain, should become aware of the typical cognitive errors that can prevent their reaching fair and sound judgments. Once aware of these errors, the power-holders should learn to rise above them.

In Part I, I discuss fifteen cognitive errors and shortcuts routinely and unwittingly made by individual evaluators, and then I cast light on seven common dysfunctions within academic organizations that can and usually do intensify the severity of the cognitive errors.

In Part II, I set forth concrete steps for rising above or preventing these errors as well as concrete steps for reducing the organizational dysfunctions.

Part III contains several Discussion Scenarios (practice exercises) that can be used by individual readers, search and tenure/promotion committees, department chairs and deans, and indeed entire academic departments, to hone their skillsŠ..

Excerpts from the Cognitive Errors Section of the MonographŠ

3. Cognitive Error: Raising the Bar. This error, related to negative stereotyping, involves raising requirements for a job during the very process of searching. The raising is felt to be necessary because of the decision-maker’s realization that the candidate is a member of a group thought to be incompetent and suspect.

You might hear: Say, don’t we need more writing samples from Latorya? I know we asked for only three samples from applicants. But I’d feel better if we had a few more in this case. I just want to make really sure she’s qualified.

A second instance: Another committee member agrees and says, Well, I wish Latorya had a doctorate from Princeton or somewhere like that. Can’t we decide right now that a candidate has to be from the Ivy League?

My point is that raising the bar is unfair and yet unwittingly and repeatedly done in academia. Unfortunately, power-holders don’t stop to ponder why they may be uncomfortable and why they desire both more evidence and more qualifications for one candidate but not for another.

4. Cognitive Error: Elitism. This error involves feeling superior or wanting to feel superior. Elitism (also known as snobbery) could take this form: downgrading on the basis of the candidate’s undergraduate or doctoral campuses, regional accent, dress, jewelry, social class, ethnic background, and so on (Moody, Padilla). A search committee member might complain: She’s so very Southern–I’m not sure I can stand that syrupy accent. And I always associate that kind of accent with illiteracy. Or conversely, giving extra points on the basis of the candidate’s alma mater, accent, dress, or other items can be a manifestation of elitism. A search committee member might observe about a candidate: Isn’t it nice to hear his English accent? That’s worth a million to me.

Another example: Fearing that a non-immigrant minority colleague will somehow lessen the quality and standing of the department, a committee member might say: Well, shouldn’t we always ask if a particular hire like Dewayne is likely to bolster our place in the ratings wars? I don’t think that’s so unreasonable.

Another example: Are we sure Ricardo will be productive enough to keep up with our publishing standards? I’m not so sure.

Elitism can, of course, prompt a committee member to feel validated because the candidate will bring some extra snob appeal. I think Les’s doctorate from Stanford is just the kind of boost in prestige that we could use around here. I see no reason why we can’t take the Stanford degree at face value and forego the so-called ‘weighting’ of what Les has done at Stanford with what the other candidates have accomplished at their hard-scrabble places. To me, that’s an awful waste of our time.

7. Cognitive Error: Good Fit/Bad Fit. Increasingly, search committees and tenure review committees consider whether a job candidate would be a good or bad fit for their department. While it is necessary for a job candidate to be able to meet the programmatic needs of the department and students as well as the academic specifications of the position description, this is not what is usually meant by good or bad fit. Instead, “fit” can be translated to mean “will I feel comfortable and culturally at ease with this new hire or will I have to learn some new ways to relate to this hire?”

In other words, the longing to clone and to stay as a mono-culture within the department may be prompting the complaint that the candidate “just won’t fit with us.” The same longing to clone can appear in tenure reviews when the tenure candidate is faulted for not being collegial. Clearly, rampant subjectivity and arbitrariness can be invited into committee deliberations when the question is asked: “Is this a good fit?”

You may overhear: Well, I think Mercedes doesn’t deserve tenure. We’ve lived with her long enough to know that she’s really very, very different from the rest of us. To be blunt, she’s just not the kind of person I like to spend time with, especially socially. She’s never going to become a soccer mom, if you know what I mean.

Another search example: Francisco will stick out in our department, as I’m sure everyone here senses. Won’t he be hard to relate to? He’s just too different from the rest of us. We’ve got a bad fit here, I think. On the other hand, Jerry will be great for us. He can hit the ground running and will be able to read our minds-well, at least most of the time. That’s the beauty of his coming here. He’ll fit right in to everything.

14. Premature Ranking/Digging In.

All too often, evaluators rush to give numerical preferences to the candidates or applicants they are considering. I often wonder if this rush-to-ranking relieves evaluators and falsely assures them that they have now escaped both personal subjectivity and embarrassing vulnerability to cognitive errors. Perhaps they finally feel they have achieved objectivity and fairness. After all, a ranking, a number, indicates objectivity! At least this is the way many of us academics unfortunately seem to reason.

The superficial rush to rank candidates leads evaluators to prematurely state their position (he’s number one, in my view); close their minds to new evidence; and then defend their stated position to the death. Rather than developing a pool of acceptable and qualified candidates and then comparing, contrasting, and mulling over candidates’ different strengths with one’s colleagues, some evaluators prefer to simplify their task. Here is one illustration of premature ranking and digging in: Well, I don’t want to waste time here by summarizing each candidate’s strengths and weaknesses, as the provost suggested. That seems to me just a useless writing exercise proposed by an overzealous former English professor. I’ve got enough evidence to make up my mind about who should be number one, number two, and number three. I just hope we can hire number one and not be stuck with any of the others. Another illustration: Let’s go through the categories we’re using and assign points from each category to each of the serious candidates for this job. I totally trust everyone here so you don’t have to give me subtle or complicated reasons for your points. With this approach, we just quickly add up the points and we’ve got a decision on our first choice-all in twenty-five minutes or less.

In other words, rushing to rank will eliminate the need for engagement with colleagues in higher-order thinking, sifting through and interpreting evidence, comparing and contrasting, and “weighting” the importance of evidence. Rushing to rank easily leads to rushing to judgment.