In any job, some things come easy, and some come hard. This is definitely true for positions in higher education, even at the entry level, but even moreso as you move up the ladder. This week on the Grill, John Mayo and I will be discussing the right ways and the wrong ways to answer questions in your interview about what you think will come easily in a new position, and what will require a steep learning curve.
This weeks we tackle two thought-provoking and tightly connected questions that ask you to share your thoughts about how your strengths and weaknesses match up to the position you are applying for.
“Given your current level of education, skills and experience:
What part of the position will be easiest for you, and why?
What part of the position will require the steepest learning curve and how will you approach closing the gap?”
The show today is pre-recorded and due to a minor disaster here in Athens (see photo), we will not have the live call-in portion of the show, as a storm blew down a branch onto my house and cars and I am working on cleanup and insurance-claim-related stuff.
I recently had a discussion with a fellow coach as part of the Third Tribe Marketing membership site, which connects small businesses with some of the top minds in social media and marketing to help them learn ways to build authority, increase their credibility and get more business.
The discussion was about saying “no” to some commitments so he could concentrate on his business. He was having an awful time doing so, and I could definitely relate to where he was coming from. Like most of the people I work with (and like me!), he has multiple passions and only so much time.
His question was about deciding what to quit and when to quit it. I get it. When you have a business, and want to have a life beyond it, it makes no sense to keep on doing the wrong things, or dividing the time you need to spend on the right things. I suggested that maybe he just needed to re-balance his priorities.
There was a time when I worked at Penn State’s Smeal College of Business, and was responsible for running a student organizations office that supported 32 student groups. I advised four of these directly, and assisted the other 28. I also coordinated the work of the committees for all of the college’s major student events, including a scholarship committee, two award ceremonies, and all of the major leadership and professional development events.
I left that job and went back to Residence Life. In my first position back in that department, I supervised professional staff, planned training events for student and professional staff, created publications, and was responsible for 11 major department tasks and committees, including oversight of a resident assistant training class with 4 to 7 instructors and 70-120 students each semester; admissions events; orientation; welcome week; assessment and writing the department’s annual report. I had so many things on my plate that half the time I met with my supervisor, we talked about what I had been doing lately, and the rest, we tried to click through in our heads all the things I was supposed to be doing, because neither of us could keep up.
Now those were busy jobs. Many people have busy jobs, and those were the duties. I knew that going in. These types of positions are classic student affairs jobs…you wear many hats, largely because of interesting institutional priorities and lack of funding to actually hire an appropriate level of support staff.
Anyway…
What I did in my “free” time was up to me.
Did I relax?
You tell me. Here are a few things I spent my “free time” doing during that period:
Serving on the “nominating committee” for my church to recruit people gullible enough to want to be on the board, or who could be guilted into it.
Acting as student outreach chair and advising the Penn State student group related to the church (yeah, another group!)
Teaching a 26-week sex ed course at the church for junior-high-level kids (10 of them) where they learned about not only plumbing and mechanics, but assertiveness skills, understanding sexual orientation issues, and discussing their values and the role they play in decision-making. (Did I mention this was an unpaid position? My standing joke is that this is about as close as an Unitarian can get to sainthood!)
Serving on the fundraising and events committee for a new non-profit that saved an old movie theater and converted it into a performing arts center. In this capacity, I helped plan a couple of concerts, a 5K and a certified mile race, and helped with open houses during the yearly arts festival.
I also took up gardening, got back into home brewing, and helped found a home brewers club. I was secretary of that group for a while.
Somehow I fit it all in. And for a while, it was okay. Then, I got promoted, had a different scope of responsibility, and my wife and I started a family. I supervised more people, had fewer work responsibilities, but ones with more impact on other people, and I had to learn to say “no” and to let some things go, and scale back commitments to others.
Eventually, I hit a wall with stress, being a new dad, and dealing with everyone else’s needs for my time and energy. I had a health issue crop up, and things got much harder to deal with. Only then did I learn to say “no.” It’s not selfish to take a step back if you need to do so. At least not in the unhealthy, guilt-wracking way most people think about it. Instead, think of it as “self-preservation,” because that’s what it is, really.
I won’t say I did it without encouragement and support from the right people. First, my family. My wife Sarah insisted I stop ignoring my obvious health issue and go to the doctor. My doctor insisted I see more doctors. And my supervisor told me in a meeting that she would support a personal leave of absence. I resisted for a while, but eventually realized I needed to step off the stress train and go look at some trees and grass and get right with how I was taking care of myself and with how I was viewing my work, my life, the world, and my place in it.
Here’s how I did it.
I started saying “I have some other things to deal with right now, and I want to take some time to sort out my personal priorities, so I will be scaling back some duties and not continuing with others.”
I offered to help with an orderly transition of tasks during my leave, and I did so.
Then I left, turned off the cell phone, stopped looking at work e-mail, and spent a few days all by myself at a state park lodge in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. It was the best thing I ever did for myself. Looking back, I realized I hadn’t given myself enough opportunities for comparison.
That period let me adjust my approach to work and family, and my priorities started to settle themselves out. I spent more time developing my staff, and less time criticizing them; more time talking with students instead of just at them and near them, and I started going home on time to be with my family, work in the garden, enjoy downtime, and think about the kind of person I wanted to be. It led me onto a path toward coaching, and eventually to this group.
Here’s where you have to be bold and unapologetic. I was established at Penn State, and comfortable. You might even say complacent. I’d “topped out,” and after a few searches for the next rung up the ladder didn’t work out, I realized several things about my situation that I hadn’t reflected on enough. First, my opportunities to move up internally, which had been regular and self-sustaining for almost 15 years, dried up. Second, I had moved through the hard transitions of the previous couple of years, and was in good stead with my colleagues and supervisor. Third, the organization was most comfortable with me at the place in the organization I held at that time, and both of us were losing out on growth opportunities because of it.
That’s when I realized my priorities were hopelessly out of sync with where I wanted to go in my life and career. So I took a leap of faith, and went there anyway. It meant leaving my job, moving away from a place I had called home for 15 years, and making new friends. I left at a weird time of the semester (about 5 weeks before Winter closing.) I didn’t want to leave then, because of the weird employment gap it left, and how some people would interpret it. But we had bought a new house, had a buyer for the old one, and I really didn’t want to move from Pennsylvania in December, anyway. So I planned my transition as cleanly as I could, left the lines of communication open, and stepped boldly into creating my own life and career.
I realize that for many, this would have been completely insane. For me, it was only mildly so. I had savings and investments to lean on, the support of my family, and a plan B. (I moved to a college town just in case I needed a more stable stream of income, and I keep the lines of communication open with my old colleagues, supervisor and references, in case I need to get that next job.)
I’ve concentrated my efforts on being recognized as a likable authority in relation to higher education careers. I’m learning to provide content that enhances that reputation and build testimonials that will speak for me. I know I talk too much and that it annoys some people. I can only say I’m working a little on it, and the rest is just who I am. If you respect the value of my advice, knowledge and skills you’ll move past it. What content “expert” isn’t a little bit of a pain in the ass every now and again?
But I’ve digressed, so let me return to you and hopefully help you to focus your efforts: My questions for you are these:
If you can’t fit your priorities into your life, is it your life or your priorities that are the problem?
How could you re-order them without “throwing out the baby with the bath water?” My bet is that you can. And if you are going to get where you need to get, you must.
So which needs and priorities are you going to feel worst about not meeting: yours, or those of others?
What’s the role of faith (in yourself, or something greater, or both) in your career? And how do you know when it’s time to “take a leap?”
The other truth you need to embrace, if you are to move forward, is that the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders. The programs you support will go on, if people are committed to them. You can still be involved in a lesser role if you want to be. You can do your own thing, without walking away mad, or burning the bridge behind you.
To think any less is to imprison yourself by meeting someone else’s expectations. Let them go. Focus on your own. You deserve to be happy and get where you are going.
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Every once in a while, you meet someone who has a definite impact on you. It could be because they are kind and encouraging. It could be because they are damn smart. In the case of Ann Marie Klotz, it’s both.
I had a great opportunity last week to interview Ann Marie, a doctoral student from DePaul University (and Director of Residential Education at that institution) about her thoughts on a couple of great topics. The first topic, “Trusting the Job Search Process” was the subject of last week’s podcast, and it was well-received by listeners and came well-recommended by several other higher ed aficionados, including Eric Stoller.
Our conversation covered a lot of ground, and I was able to ask her about another article on her blog, annmarieklotz.wordpress.com, related to her doctoral dissertation research, which examines roadblocks that women commonly experience in climbing the ranks toward a university presidency. “Understanding Our Impact” delved into ways that higher education professionals can reflect on the ways our influence stays with students well beyond their college years, and is based on Klotz’s reading about the reflections of female university presidents on their college experiences, and the role of mentors in supporting or discouraging their achievements.
The recent ouster of the University of Nebraska at Lincoln from the elite Association of American Universities has raised some interesting questions about the role of research money in determining who can earn membership to this exclusive circle of the nation’s top institutions.
In a recent article published in the Chronicle of Higher Education , some key aspects of the debate were outlined, but in between the lines, I see a couple of bigger questions. First, while research funding clearly contributes to learning opportunities for students, does the AAU’s new ranking formula discount the efforts of universities that decide to prioritize their new spending on teaching? And how about improvement of facilities that directly contribute to the quality of student life, beyond teaching? Ignoring these practical bottom-line issues doesn’t serve the needs of our students; it serves the needs of corporations and the inflated egos of academics. It’s “ivory tower thinking” at its worst. In the end, this elitism is likely to backfire, and one can only hope that our students aren’t the ones who get burned.
We live in interesting times, where hard choices are being made about what we can offer students, and how we can retain top faculty and staff, in the face of decreased funding from states, and private donors, who are struggling with financial hardships of their own.
It’s even more interesting, then, that a major association would create a system now, in the face of what some are calling the “higher education bubble,” to marginalize a flagship university over, in part, matters of research funding. In my view, this is another example of misplaced elitism by those who have insulated themselves from the hard realities of our times. Not far afield, in some ways, from the recent decision of two major student affairs associations (NASPA and ACPA) to pursue a vote on consolidation, only to have different rules about whose voice counts in deciding whether to merge: one association choosing to allow a voice to graduate students and the other, to limit decision-making to the “old guard” and protect the status quo.
I’d argue that both of these association matters are symptomatic of something greater, and that more is to come. Associations that fail to adapt to the realities of interesting times are as relevant as Nero playing the fiddle while Rome burned. There was an epic, poetic quality to it, in some ways, but his tribute didn’t stop the flames.
So the questions before academia are simple enough:
Who’s guarding the academy, and who’s fiddling while it burns?
At the end of the day, how can associations remain relevant to the professionals they serve (established and emerging)?
And if they remain relevant, what will rise in their place?
Is it elitist to classify individuals and institutions and to define for them their roles in the national debates of our times, or is it”just the way things are?”
Is there any hope for practical solutions in academic circles that are so highly focused on research?
Contacts from a particularly persistent publicist about getting me to interview someone from Devry about their new Career Advisory Board and career services they are offering their students and alumni.
We’ve covered other issues related to For-Profit Higher Education before, and honestly, I’ve learned a lot. Here are some takeaways I’ve drawn from the above:
From the LinkedIn group discussion:
There are vested interests on both sides, and very strong feelings about the worth of degrees from for-profit schools. For those who have chosen the for-profit route, they come down to improving themselves without sacrificing their families, or fitting further education into their busy lives. For those on the Brick-and-Mortar: defending the perceived differences in the quality of scholarship between online and B & M programs.
There are legitimate concerns on both sides. For on-line pr iogram graduates, a desire to be taken seriously, and to have access to opportunities to contribute to discussions, associations and even teaching opportunities. For B & M graduates, a desire to protect the legitimacy of their scholarship and their degrees, by insisting that programs meet existing standards and accreditation models.
From the USC Report:
The demand for degrees and for an educated workforce is high, and public institutions are increasingly unable to meet this demand, in the face of funding cuts.
There is an emerging public interest in creating common standards about basic courses that would ensure their transferability between institutions, regardless of their public/private status.
Online education will increasingly be a part of the picture, especially for introductory courses.
From my interactions with the publicist and the interview that resulted:
There are for-profit institutions that are trying to serve their students and graduates and make sure their investment results in good jobs that will provide a good return on their investment.
There are some really nice people in the for-profit world, and despite the controversies surrounding for-profit education, their intentions are good, and should not be discounted out of hand, by people who are just more comfortable with the way things have always been.
I share a few more thoughts in today’s BlogTalkRadio podcast, which was pre-recorded, and think that Devry is making efforts worth noting. Please listen and share your comments.
Work with Sean. I help higher ed professionals take control of their careers with tailored services including resume and CV development, LinkedIn profile optimization and networking strategy, interview coaching, and one-on-one career guidance.
In any job, some things come easy, and some come hard. This is definitely true for positions in higher education, even at the entry level, but even moreso as you move up the ladder. This week on the Grill, John Mayo and I will be discussing the right ways and the wrong ways to answer questions in your interview about what you think will come easily in a new position, and what will require a steep learning curve.
I recently had a discussion with a fellow coach as part of the 
Every once in a while, you meet someone who has a definite impact on you. It could be because they are kind and encouraging. It could be because they are damn smart. In the case of Ann Marie Klotz, it’s both.
The recent ouster of the University of Nebraska at Lincoln from the elite 
