by Bryan Koval | May 13, 2010 | Doctoral Study, life purpose
An unexpected consequence of being a doctoral student and working in higher education is trying to help my parents to wrap their heads around what I am doing with my life. When my father introduces me to someone for the first time, its not that unusual for him to refer to me as “the perpetual student.” My mom thinks I am the”head RA.” While I have nothing against Van Wilder, I know that I have my life more in order than my parents believe.
Maybe its a Millennial thing (I’m right on the cusp between being a Gen X-er and a Millennial), but for the longest time it really important to me that my parents are interested in what I am doing and I want to know that they are proud of me. Prior to working in higher education I was a science teacher, and this was basically the ideal situation for having career discussions with my parents. My dad is a retired teacher and my mom is a school secretary. We could talk about lesson plans, the union contract, continuing education credits, and a wide range of other topics for which we were all on the same wavelength. My mom could easily tell her friends “my son is a science teacher” with absolute conviction. Now that I am a student affairs professional, that’s a little more ambiguous.
Forging ahead with a career in higher education has resulted in me re-evaluating my relationship with my parents, as well as looking at how much of my identity is tied up in my career and academic goals. My parents and I have a good relationship, but I have learned that outside of making sure that they know I have a roof over my head and plenty of food on the table, I don’t need to have their approval or support when it comes to work. I’ve made connections with people who can play that role when my folks are not able to.
This whole discussion about my parents helps to put my career in perspective, though. I constantly struggle with work/life/school balance, and knowing that there are people in my life who are more interested in parts of my life that have nothing to do with work and school is really refreshing. My parents don’t care about quantitative research methods. They just care about me, and that is good enough.
Bryan Koval
Bryan Koval holds two degrees from the Pennsylvania State University (B.S. Secondary Education 03, M. Ed. Higher Education 08). He has worked in Residence Life at Penn State for 5 years, and has made meaningful contributions to projects related to living and learning communities, cocurricular learning outcomes, and resident assistant training in the department.
Prior to working in higher education, Bryan taught 7th grade science in Harford County,Maryland. He is currently pursuing a doctoral degree in higher education administration from the
George Washington University. Bryan writes about his experience as a working professional and full-time graduate student.
by sean@higheredcareercoach.com | May 12, 2010 | life purpose
Editor’s Disclosure: This post reveals that the author is a 40-something interloper on the “Gen-Y” career network Brazen Careerist. For anyone disturbed by this revelation, the author claims to really only read it for the “stories.” And now, on to the show….
The other day, I got involved in an interesting discussion on Brazen Careerist about whether length of experience matters in establishing credibility these days.
The comment that led off this discussion:
The conversation really struck a chord with me, because I think it is central to understanding, and perhaps navigating, the divide between Millennials and their Gen X and Boomer managers. There is a disconnect between their generation, which wants to be acknowledged for their ideas, and those who came before, who do value ideas, but feel they’ve earned respect through hard work and years of experience (and sometimes feel they don’t get it from the youngsters.)
The discussion about the value of experience and status, versus the value of ideas, goes back much further. The young have always felt discounted, the old disrespected, the rich and scholarly have always felt more enlightened than those who work in the trenches, and those who work in the trenches have valued their experiences in life and work more than ‘book learning.”
My favorite example:
Socrates was a great example of someone who was in fact a great teacher (and a guru), but it’s useful to remember that he’s only thought of this way because of what others said about him, and none of that would have gotten down to us, if it hadn’t been for Plato.
Socrates was actually a stonemason, who spent his days in the Forum taking people down a notch, by asking them simple and pointed questions, giving his observations, and playing devil’s advocate. It was Plato who enjoyed his style, wrote about it, emulated it, and taught it in his academy.
So herein lies the crux of the credibility issue: Are you someone who is engaged in questioning as the means for discovery, in debate as a delivery vehicle for new knowledge and points of view, and in mutual interplay between others who might teach you something (including people you may not agree with, or even find to be “small-minded?”) Are you nimble enough, confident enough, and curious enough, to be engaged?
The key to wisdom, then, is to know a good question when you hear it and a good conversation when you are in it. And to ENGAGE.
There are many, many cartoons that depict a seeker going to the mountaintop to ask a wise guru for advice, only to be met with questions. The punchline here shouldn’t be lost on you…this is how people learn.
So you can’t be a guru if you only learn by osmosis, or repeat back what you have learned verbatim. To be a guru, you must light a fire in others for knowledge, ask them compelling questions, and send them away with their minds racing, frenetic, and full of wonder for the search.
And how will you know if you are a guru?
They’ll climb back up the mountain with more questions.
And this time, they’ll bring friends.
This article is a cross-post to both the Student Affairs Collaborative and HigherEdCareerCoach.Com
by sean@higheredcareercoach.com | May 7, 2010 | life purpose
Attention: Crankypants Alert! You have been warned. That is all.
I don’t know if it’s something in the water or the air lately, but I’ve been in several internet conversations recently about “gurus” and how to differentiate them from the posers out there, as you seek advice for whatever ails you, life-wise, career-wise…whatever-wise. I’m not sure who stuck something in the internet’s collective craw, but now I can certainly tell you that my craw has been stuck. So allow me to spill some wisdom on you. I seem to have lost my Band-Aids ® and well…these thoughts have to go somewhere. (Beg pardon. Excuse me. So sorry about your new shoes.)
The first conversation happened on Twitter, from a tweet by my friend from State College, @Robin2Go, who also seems to cross paths with a lot of interesting people related to the Student Affairs chat (#sachat) community. It continued with a reply from Brian Panulla, one of my best friends, who used to live in State College and whose better half, Michelle, sang “Power of Two” by the Indigo Girls at my wedding with another great friend Beth Hayden. (If you’re wondering where I am going with all this…I will return to my point…eventually.)
Here’s the exchange (Click on each image for full-size version.)
Now, I know that some of the youngsters out there, or those who weren’t college radio station DJs, music critics and wannabe hipsters (like I was in college) may not get the reference to the great Australian band the Hoodoo Gurus. It’s okay, some people are just cooler than you. (Or possibly older, deluded, and hopelessly self-referential)
But I digress…. Let’s move on, as I continue my effort to raise some dramatic tension, and build up t0 part 2 (yes, part 2) of what may eventually become a “field guide” of sorts to assist the less experienced in distinguishing the charlatans from the true gurus. (By the way, I really liked Charlatans UK when I was in college, too. Check them out!)
The Call of “Who-Dos”
There are true gurus and false prophets. Upon first glance, you may notice some similarities. You might listen to one or the other, and not be able to distinguish the twitter of one from the tweet of the other. Each has it’s own sweet particularities… pleasing to the ear, inspiring. And either may give you welcome respite from the problems before you on any particular day. But the ability to discern between a “who-do” and a “guru” is essential for those who want to become experts in their own right.
Now, you may not have crossed paths with Robin, Brian, Michelle or Beth, or even heard their twitters and chirps. It’s probably because they don’t toot their own horn as much as they could. They don’t claim to be “gurus.” They just do what they do, because it makes them happy and keeps them busy with things that interest them. But let’s take a look at what these people do, and if it piques your interest, you can cyber-stalk them on the intertubes and arrive at your own conclusions.
(By the way, none of these people have any idea I am writing this about them, so won’t they be surprised? Consider this a #FollowFriday-in-overdrive attempt at “crossing the beams” of my various twitter circles, to see if the internet explodes or anything. You can just call me the Large Hadron Superconductor Super-Collider of the web. And just wait until later posts in this series: I’m hoping it’s going to be the social media equivalent of those proton beams circulating around and smashing together….And I seriously hope to break the internet, and possibly unravel the fabric of space/time itself. (Somebody call Steven Hawking and tell him to follow me. I might be on to something here.)
But I will also settle for at least causing some discussion…hopefully it won’t start with “Who is this nutcase?”
Robin Smail describes herself as a “disruptive technologist” and she does something or other that is awesome at Penn State. I really don’t know her exact expertise (something to do with Joomla and Moodle, I think) but she is someone who is out there connecting people through social media…at Penn State, across the Higher Ed Web community, and well…with anybody who’s interesting.
Robin doesn’t just talk about social media. She does it. A lot. All the time. With anyone. With everyone. If social media has a “raving fan,” it’s Robin. Visit her blog, Renegade Element, and if you dare tweet her (@Robin2Go) you won’t be able to say you weren’t warned. She has a quote from Serenity on her blog, and it pretty much describes her level of engagement… “You can’t stop the signal, Mal.”
If you haven’t heard of Brian Panulla, you have probably been exposed to his work. For a time, he worked at HigherEdJobs.com and developed a lot of the back-end stuff that makes their site and their search manager run. So you might want to follow him. Besides being smart and really capable, he’s funny.
Michelle Panulla and Beth Hayden were college roommates, and my wife and I knew them because they all sang for the PennHarmonics. Michelle is a gifted web designer as well as a singer. She is great with Flash and Flex, and has designed many different websites and blogs, including contributions to the original GoPSUSports.Com site for Penn State. She’s also a great cook, a dog lover, and an expert at dealing with people with ADD (okay, I’m talking about Brian). Beth is a social media coach and consultant, a certified wedding celebrant, and she has designed some great blogs and helped many people learn the basics of blogging. Both are also great singers.
These people are a few of my friends. But they are also a great examples of “Who-Dos”: people who spend their time doing what they love, what interests them, and what they are passionate about. You can recognize the subtle differences in the energy they put into their songs. Much like a collegiate A Capella group, they are well-practiced, and high energy. There are occasional breaks, stutters, even pauses. They have looser choreography than, for example, Lady Gaga on American Idol the other night. They don’t fluff their feathers and strut anything like that…they just sing their songs…occasionally together with the group, occasionally solo, but always engaging, because it’s not just about the beauty of the song…it’s the beauty of singing together… harmony and dissonance, individual nuance and collective choral harmony…primal, organic, chaotic, and mysterious.
“Who-dos” are like protons ready for that 7 trillion electronvolt jolt. Some people may look at them and just say “there’s a hydrogen ion.”But what happens when they all start smashing together?
You might just unlock some of the universe’s great mysteries.
- Are you a “Who-Do” or a “Guru?”
- How do you sing your song?
(This is a cross-post with HigherEdCareerCoach.Com. Look for part 2 early next week on both the SA Collaborative and Higher Ed Career Coach.)
by sean@higheredcareercoach.com | May 3, 2010 | life purpose
As schools around the country start to close out the academic year, honor their student leaders and organizations with awards, check out students from the residence halls, and prepare for graduation, I can’t help but reflect on the ways my life and career path have changed in a few short months. Last Fall, as I was finishing up summer projects, and preparing for RA training, I was also contemplating some major life changes.
I’d planned to start a doctoral program here at the University of Georgia, but I wasn’t accepted. I’d applied to the program for several reasons: first, it’s a great program; second, it is close to my family (in South Carolina) and Sarah’s family (in Florida) and third, after 14 years in State College, I’d finally reached a point in my career at Penn State at which I’d accomplished what I set out to do. More importantly, I had to admit that I wasn’t motivated by my daily routine, and I found myself more than a little bit discouraged as I faced the prospect of another year of doing the same things.
I’d imagined (and worked quite diligently toward) a return to the classroom. From preparing for the GRE, to writing, fretting over, and re-writing my statement of purpose, I’d been single-minded about getting in to the University of Georgia, so it was kind of a blow to get rejected. Despite what some might expect, though, I won’t say a bad word about U. Ga. or their graduate admissions process, or about Residence Life at Penn State. I have deep respect for, and can honestly say that I learned a lot about myself, from both.
At Penn State, I had many opportunities to learn and grow as a professional, and my work was rewarded by several promotions and many great learning and leadership opportunities. The people there are not just my colleagues or my friends; many of them are family to me, and I will always value the time I spent there and the relationships I forged. And though it would be easy to be bitter about getting rejected from a grad program when you have a generation of experience behind you, good GRE scores and recommendations, etc., I’m not upset with anyone at U.Ga., because I learned something very valuable from the process. It was a simple but powerful realization, and it was this: I don’t love Student Development theory. I think it’s interesting, but my real love is for two things: the people and the process. While I am capable of doctoral-level work, and a Ph.D. would help me get to a logical next step, as a faculty member or senior administrator, I hadn’t really explored my other options enough, and I’d set some aside that were actually important to me (and that I have always wanted to do) because they didn’t fit with what many would consider conventional next steps along a “career path” in Student Affairs.
I’ve known several things about myself for most of my life, but wasn’t giving them a proper place in my personal “scheme of things.” First, I have always been a writer and a story-teller. Some of my earliest memories are of me telling my grandmother fabulous stories. When I was young, people didn’t read me bedtime stories: they asked me to tell them. Second, I’ve always been a “helper” and a “sounding board” for other people, and I like to challenge others to think about what they want to do with their lives. This was apparent in many ways as I grew up, became an RA and eventually moved into full-time work in higher ed. Third, I’ve always been creative and free-spirited, and Fourth, I hate bureaucratic nonsense and as much as possible, I do my own thing, and I seldom apologize for it. My track record on this count is pretty good. I am an original thinker who drives conversations in new directions, experiments, and takes risks. Usually, the results are good. When they aren’t, I explain my rationale, apologize for bad results if necessary, and move on.
Finally, late last summer, as training loomed in the near future, I took a pretty big leap of faith, and registered for a Coach Certification program with the Life Purpose Institute, and began to plan my departure from Penn State. The program was in October and after it, Sarah came down to meet me in Atlanta, and we went to Athens to look at houses for two days. We made an offer on our new house on the second day.
I’d planned to end the semester at Penn State, but finding the house kind of tipped things in a different direction, because it created a new sense of urgency toward unloading our old one and moving on. Pennsylvania winters are notoriously bad for selling houses, so we had to jump right on it. Things started to happen quickly, and before I knew it, the die was cast. After 14 1/2 years in Happy Valley,we were packing up our life, unloading our junk and starting something new.
The strangest part of this, for me, has been how easy it has been to not look back. I don’t have any “might-have-beens” to dwell on. I did what I went there to do, and I know that I made a difference while I was there. These days, I spend my time writing, and discussing life and career issues with people from all over. Through Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, BrazenCareerist, and the wonderful #sachat community, I’m more connected that I ever have been to others working in Higher Ed.
Since I’m new in business, I spend a lot of time working on ways to bring in clients, do presentations and offer workshops. It’s challenging and very different from working for a large university. I set my schedule, pay for all my benefits, and I generally work alone. I don’t supervise anyone, and I don’t have a boss, but in some ways, I answer to everybody…either I get feedback that my work is helpful, or I work through the silence and keep trying until I find something that is both validating and (hopefully) potentially profitable. I’m not swimming in money by any means. I’ve earned less this year than I earned in a week at my old job, and most of what I’ve earned has gone to pay some of my fabulous guest writers. And let’s not get into what it costs to get certified as a professional coach through a reputable program, or to start a business.
Last August, I only imagined what it would be like to take this leap, and to forge out on my own. I had greater expectations for what the year would bring me, but, like many new graduates heading out into the world, or professionals moving on to their first (or next step), I choose to look back on the year with fondness, to reflect on everything I’ve learned…about business, about careers, about higher ed, and about myself, and to keep moving toward opportunities and experiences around each bend.
I know that I will get where I am meant to go in my career and in my life. I’ve found a purpose that drives me forward, and the realization that I’m doing the driving, so I’m the one who gets to decide where to go next.
It may be the end of the world as I knew it, but I feel fine.
How about you?
- Have you set aside aspects of yourself as you pursue the “next steps” in your career?
- Are there ways to incorporate these aspirations and skills into your current job?
- What risks are you willing to take to create more fulfillment in your life and career?
by sean@higheredcareercoach.com | Mar 29, 2010 | Career Skills, Coaching, Job Search, The Placement Experience
This guy doesn't need a career coach. But he may need an attitude adjustment. Who are you pointing at, fool?
If you work in higher education, you are probably already a pretty successful person, and have some pretty good ideas about where you want to go in life. Teaching positions require graduate education, and many administrative posts also require at least a master’s degree.
You’re also surrounded by many great resources, including experienced colleagues, supervisors, and even students who help inspire and motivate you. Teaching and advising are activities that stir your soul, as well as your mind. You are periodically, if not frequently, reminded of your purpose, and you probably have more opportunities than some to pursue your academic and professional interests.
So why would you need a career coach? Aren’t you already smart enough to help yourself? Can’t you connect with plenty of people who can help you, who won’t charge you a fee?
Honestly, on some levels, the answers lean toward an argument against spending your time and money for a professional coach. But these answers are also mostly likely arrived at upon a surface-level examination of your life and career, and a certain level of buy-in to some stereotypes and expectations that society applies to being a member of the faculty.
Look a little deeper, and you may discover some very compelling reasons to consider coaching.
First and foremost, getting a coach doesn’t say anything about your intellectual ability. Plenty of really smart people work with coaches to keep them accountable, help them achieve work/life balance, and set and meet personal and professional goals. Prominent CEOs hire coaches. Corporations do, too. In fact, many corporations are hiring in-house coaches to help their employees be more satisfied with their careers and more balanced in their lives.
Second, it’s true that you have friends, colleagues, your supervisor, and your students to help and support you. But can these people dedicate the time and personal attention to you that you need? Will they commit to your personal success over their own needs or the needs of the department or institution? Will they support your personal and professional development, even if it means taking you away from your job, your staff and students, or the institution? Will they keep your concerns, aspirations and goals confidential? Will they hold you accountable for meeting your goals, or do they have their own things to worry about?
Getting a coach is a great way to put your dreams, goals, and even your barriers out there, and to explore them. It’s an investment in your success. It’s also a great way to hold yourself accountable in meeting your goals, so that you can achieve them.
So maybe the question isn’t “Why do I need a career coach?,” but instead “Don’t I deserve one?”
An unexpected consequence of being a doctoral student and working in higher education is trying to help my parents to wrap their heads around what I am doing with my life. When my father introduces me to someone for the first time, its not that unusual for him to refer to me as “the perpetual student.” My mom thinks I am the”head RA.” While I have nothing against Van Wilder, I know that I have my life more in order than my parents believe.
