After a good deal of discussion, the SUNY Fredonia University Senate voted to table the Executive Committee's special budget resolution by a 2-1 margin. I don't know why the Senators voted as they did, and I didn't help matters with the way I handled the discussion, but the way I would summarize the comments against the resolution is as follows:
The Local Custom Argument
We have a tradition in the Senate of discussing an item in one meeting and then voting on it in a subsequent meeting. My argument for suspending this tradition, which is not in Robert's Rules, was as follows. Once a bill leaves certain lower-level committees and goes to the final committee before it is killed or goes up in a vote before the entire State Senate or Assembly, it is very difficult to amend it. We don't know when that will happen, but the rumors coming from Albany are that it could well happen during our spring break or before the legislative recess in late March. Because our next meeting falls on the second Monday of April (due to our having a travel day the first Monday), postponing the vote until then could well make our resolution irrelevant. In response, several Senators argued that giving them time to study the matter and consult their constituencies outweighed the risk of irrelevance. I could always call another special Senate meeting or stated faculty meeting (or the President could call a special faculty meeting) to hold the vote, or we could do it electronically.
The "Stabbing in the Back" Argument
In response, other Senators argued that it was improper for the Fredonia University Senate to intrude on UUP territory. While I should have argued in response that I have been meeting regularly with our local chapter UUP President all year, that the Senate has the right to make recommendations to both the campus President and the chapter President, and that I was willing to participate in any open forum or union-sponsored event, still, the perception remained that I was inserting the Executive Committee's views where they don't belong and betraying the state-wide union in the process. In my view, unions should thrive on internal debate and discussion; unfortunately, that view has never been shared by state-wide leadership since I have been a UUP member (back back back to fall 1998). I am not personally aware of any consultation between the state-wide union and local chapter leadership, although since I have tried to keep my role as Senate Chair distinct from my role as UUP delegate, I have not participated actively in chapter Executive Board meetings or its listserv. All I know is what I saw at the Delegate Assembly in Albany at the start of the month, which was not encouraging: what appeared to be hastily-developed talking points and marching orders; a demonstration in support of our "friends" in the legislature barely attended by any of them; and an address by the recipient of the Friend of UUP award, Assembly Higher Education Committee Chair Deborah Glick, in which she mostly focused on state revenue shortfalls and the difficulty of even mitigating the Governor's proposed cuts. Long story short: I didn't see any way to keep this discussion private and internal, or, to tell you the truth, much point to it. Rather than a stab in the back, my airing the resolution publicly, here at CitizenSE and on the floor of the Senate, was a full-frontal assault, not only on certain aspects of UUP's position, but, and more important, on all the players in Albany who are supposed to be representing public higher education, as well. (On which more later, here at CitizenSE.)
I'm willing to continue it on my campus or off with anyone who wants to discuss the fundamental issues involved and not simply reel off talking points. I'll just be doing it as a member of Fredonia's English Department, a Fredonia chapter UUP delegate, and UUP member, among the many other hats I wear. Phil Smith will be coming to Fredonia on March 24th, during the visit of the Middle States accreditation team. If he wants to be on a panel with me then, I'd be happy to have a public conversation with him. And if the Fredonia UUP chapter or Student Assembly wants to invite me to participate on a panel, I'd say "yes" in a heartbeat. If not, fine. I would just like to hear what the local UUP Executive Board or individuals on it think and what efforts they've made to take the temperature of their constituency. I consider many people on it my friends, and even when I disagree with some of them on some issues, I don't let it carry over to other issues. I'm genuinely curious how convincing they find the talking points of both UUP and SUNY.
The "Only a Fool Stands in the Middle of an Intersection" Argument
Perhaps a better title for this argument would be "Don't Get Caught in the Middle of a Pissing Contest." Several Senators argued that we ought to simply stay out of Albany politics altogether, particularly on matters that are, if I may paraphrase the sentiment from the room, "above our pay grade." Well, better to be a fool than a knave or a coward. We're not in the military and our state-wide leadership in Albany, in both the University Faculty Senate and UUP, are ultimately supposed to represent our values and our interests.
In any case, what's going on in NY isn't really an argument between Nancy Zimpher and Phil Smith, or the Governor and the Assembly, or any individuals or organizations. We don't have to choose one side over another and worry about the consequences of pissing off the other. This is about whether we ought to have a public higher education system in the State of New York and, if so, how best to support its mission, structurally and financially. It's about a whole mess of related issues, some of which which I've taken a stab at sorting out once or twice before (oh, all right, more often than that), and some of which I've been mulling over more recently. Better for us all to have it out now, when the NYS Legislature has a huge decision facing it, than to wait until we're on the verge of a budget meltdown, singularity, or apocalypse. We're not quite there yet, but the signs aren't good. Everyone leading SUNY right now had better get a handle on the scale of the problems facing us and start thinking much more creatively and collaboratively about how to solve them.
In the coming days and weeks, I'll be addressing the issues and problems from my own personal perspective. So please be active in comments, do posts of your own, and generally inform yourself and join in the discussion. Now is not the time to stick our heads in the sand and hope that this all goes away, nor is it the time to hunker down with tried and true stalling tactics. Don't say I didn't warn you!
Depending on the course of those conversations and events in Albany, I may or may not call another special Senate meeting or a stated faculty meeting so that we can have it out together at Fredonia. But probably a more constructive next step would be to work with my counterparts in UUP and the Student Assembly to see if they are interested in any public forums or private discussions on these matters.
Showing posts with label How the University Works. Show all posts
Showing posts with label How the University Works. Show all posts
Monday, March 01, 2010
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Just a Little Experiment...
...by which I mean this post, its connection to my contribution to the Tactical Teaching roundtable here at Reworking the University, and my Intro to Grad Studies in English course, which I'm introducing to the conference participants this afternoon. Let's see how using this post in place of a handout or powerpoint presentation to report on the context, purposes, design, teaching, and results of my particular approach to tactical teaching works out....
One way I hope it works out is that the faculty and students hearing and/or reading this consider why and how they would approach relating the history and politics of their fields, disciplines, profession, and institution in all the intellectual, activist, and other work they do, on campus and off. I'm talking about relating as comparative/interdisciplinary/theoretical work in their own research, as expressive/narrative/creative work in their own writing, and as curricular/design/pedagogical work in their own teaching, mentoring, and service, but most of all as an effort to recognize the differences between these domains and discourses and yet still make connections across them, for themselves and for others. So just as I hope my students will continue the work of my courses (not just complete the work in them), so, too, am I hoping that my readers and listeners will want to work through the issues I'm raising, work up their own approach to teaching the university, and see how it works out.
One thing listening to yesterday's panels, roundtables, and workshops brought home to me is how important--and difficult--it is to situate ourselves and our work in ways that effectively link the individual, local, regional, national, and planetary. What follows is one attempt to combine self-reflexivity and contextualization, to connect theories and strategies to tactics, and to contribute to the ongoing conversation about teaching--and reworking--the university.
Context
So what do you need to know to make sense of my 1.5-credit, half-semester, required master's-level seminar?
First, you need to know a little bit about SUNY Fredonia, a public regional university within the 64-campus State University of New York. We're located right off the New York State Thruway, southwest of Toronto, Buffalo, and Rochester, and northeast of Pittsburgh, Erie, and Cleveland. So if you're thinking rural rust belt, you're not too far off. Over 40% of our 5100 undergraduates and 350 graduate students come from Chautauqua and Erie counties and roughly 75% come from the small towns, suburbs, and cities of western NY. For all too many of them, the Fredonia campus is the most diverse place they've ever been.
OK, so what about our English department? We're a pretty large department for a school of our size, with 25 tenure-stream faculty and more than 300 majors in English and English Adolescence Education and concentrators in English from the College of Education's Childhood and Early Childhood Education majors. Many of them have switched over to us from other departments and programs, often because they like the way we teach our courses they have taken for general education credit. Because we cap our class sizes at 30 when we're teaching three courses in a semester and 25 when we're teaching four, we're able to be fairly flexible in the classroom, with our readings and assignments, and in our office and on-line interactions with our students. With the core of our undergraduate major a set of introductory-level genre-based world literature courses, we don't subscribe to the coverage model. But because we've been able to do a lot of hiring in the last decade or so, particularly in American literature, creative writing, and English education, students have access to a wide range of courses, approaches, traditions, texts, and media each semester.
I should say that our undergraduate students do. Budget cuts and hiring freezes in the 1980s pared down what had been by all accounts a thriving a vibrant graduate program in English. When I first arrived at Fredonia in the fall of 1998, our graduate enrollments were increasing, partially in response to a proposal, eventually shot down, that the state requirement that all English teachers in NY must qualify for professional certification within three years of gaining provisional certification rather than five. But even when enrollments dipped a little this decade, we still struggled to offer enough stand-alone graduate seminars. Now that they're increasing again, this problem is even more urgent, particularly when New York State's fiscal crisis management means we can't hire our way out of it. Although this year we're seeing more off-campus applicants than usual, for many of our best undergraduates, staying at Fredonia for two more years is an attractive option. My colleagues and I have been brainstorming for the last decade how to impress upon them the difference between undergraduate and graduate study, while trying to impress upon ourselves and each other what it means to teach graduate seminars in a program where the master's is the terminal degree, where our teaching load is much heavier than that of our graduate professors, and where our students have a wide range of educational foundations, learning expectations, and career aspirations.
Purposes
ENGL 500, Introduction to Graduate Studies in English, is one attempt to address these challenges. For faculty who might teach it at the same time as they teach another 1.5-credit course (such as its undergraduate equivalent or the graduate capstone), it provides a way to manage their teaching load in additional to its pedagogical purposes. For graduate students, it provides a common initiation into Fredonia's graduate program in English, whether they are going for professional certification, planning to apply to Ph.D. programs, or figuring out their next step. To mash up the catalog copy, course description, and goals:
The last two paragraphs are my own; they signal a desire to embed a survey of methods, approaches, and trends in reading, writing, research, and teaching in the discipline within curricular, professional, and institutional frames. Last semester, I conceived of ENGL 500 as the graduate equivalent of my fall 2005 English Composition course, Writing Matters, where I offered my new undergraduate students opportunities to explore connections between the stakes, purposes, and ideals of higher education, critical and civic literacies, and global challenges of the 21st century--and, in so doing, to question who they were, why they were here, and what they might learn and do. I wanted my new graduate students to have similar opportunities to make sense of this transition in their lives, its identificatory and interpellative structures and situations, and to continue developing a sense of agency and project.
Design
Given the contraints of 8 weekly 150-minute meetings, limited further by my decision to set aside the opening class meeting for a simulation and the final class meeting for student presentations, as well as to build in a library session in the middle, I actually had a little less than 6 full sessions to move us from a consideration of the Fredonia English department's goals and mission in the context of disciplinary histories and debates to a broader examination of how our approaches and practices are informed by and take various positions on the history of debates over curricula in the humanities, the profession of English, and the politics of academic institutions.
In the former 3 sessions, my plan was for students to use Donald Keesey's Contexts for Criticism and M.H. Abrams and Geoffrey Harpham's Glossary of Literary Terms to map different approaches to reading and to use the course ANGEL space to compare their critical travel narratives as a prelude to the session on "reading"; to share samples of their undergraduate writing and, in light of Joseph Gibaldi's MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers and our own locally-produced (mostly by English grad students) writing guide, Beyond Normal: How to Make Your Writing Devilishly Good, as well as a class visit from the professor who was the driving force behind the latter and some youtube clips on new media, to explore their own expectations for writing as a graduate student; and to research how our departmental goals and mission compared to those of other master's programs and report their findings on the course ANGEL space in annotated bibliographies as a prelude to discussing with two professors from the department who have ties to Women's Studies and American Studies how they might consider connecting their reading of literature and theory with their own emerging research interests and focuses.
In the latter 3 sessions, I eased up on the multitasking and ramped up the reading load, as we moved in successive weeks from W.B. Carnochan's The Battleground of the Curriculum to excerpts from Gauri Viswanathan's Masks of Conquest, Michael Berube's The Employment of English, and Amitava Kumar's Passport Photos to most of Marc Bousquet's How the University Works. The three assignments that were due after we completed these discussions--an essay focusing on one idea from the readings or campus events they were most interested in incorporating into their critical or pedagogical practice, a presentation relating the literary work they had chosen to read for the first time that semester to selected issues from the course and in their professional development, and a reflection on their learning in the course--were meant to supplement and build upon our in-class and on-line discussions of these works.
Teaching
Because we were trying to do so many different things in such a short time, I strove to create as relaxed and informal a classroom atmosphere as I could, get the students talking to each other as much as possible, and shift pedagogical gears often enough to keep everyone interested. A couple of examples will have to suffice.
Our opening class meeting culminated in a simulation: as I had a roughly equal number of students taking graduate courses for professional certification as not, I was able to separate them into two groups. Each group would act as a department task force charged with proposing revisions to the requirements for the M.A. or M.S. in Ed. to the Curriculum Committee (me). This role-playing exercise allowed the students to examine their graduate program's structure, identify their expectations, hopes, and anxieties, and imagine ways of doing things differently. It allowed me to share some of the rationales for and histories of the existing structures, answer students' questions, and ask them in turn to consider resource and other implications of their ideas for change. The simulation allowed us to consider relations between individual and institution, structure and agency, constraint and change, project and persuasion; it got the students thinking like professors and taking responsibility for their education. It wasn't only an ice-breaking activity (although it was that, too)--it set the stage and the tone for the rest of the course.
Things didn't always go as planned, of course. But sometimes they went better. Having worked with Bousquet on Workplace: A Journal for Academic Labor for a long time, I knew he'd be interested in talking with my students about his new book, so we set up a skype conference call the day we'd be discussing it. It just so happened that was the same day that one of the largest student protests in Fredonia history took place; a conservative Christian activist came to campus uninvited and proceeded to preach against various aspects of student life he imagined taking place, with a particular emphasis on framing homosexuality as a sin. By the time my class had begun in the late afternoon, what had started as a very small group of students listening to and attempting to engage the speaker in dialogue had grown into a much larger crowd, consisting of hundreds if not a thousand or more students and faculty who had improvised a counter-protest or just come to hang out and enjoy the unseasonably good weather. About 2/3 of my class made a case for observing and reporting on the event (and two even posted a brief report here), while the rest of us brainstormed questions for Bousquet. We had to push back our conversation with him, but were still able to ask a good number of our questions:
Things didn't always work out so serendipitously, of course. Due to heavy demand for sessions with reference librarians, I had to push our library visit back to the week we were supposed to discuss Carnochan's history of curricular debates in the humanities. Students struggled to keep up with the readings, connect them with the assignments, and use both as tools for self-reflection. But overall the course went much better than expected and I'm excited to get a chance to revise and teach it this coming fall.
Results
Students had a hard time categorizing and comparing the goals, missions, and requirements of the master's programs that they researched with the ones in their program at Fredonia, mostly because few departments were as explicit about them as we are on our web site and few students were ready to unpack what was left implicit on their web sites. By and large, they didn't do a very good job of using our readings and discussions on ways of reading to analyze the underlying logic of other programs' structures.
Students wrote critical essays on Marian Wright Edelman's Convocation lecture and the vocation of a teacher; on the Eliot-McCosh debates and their undergraduate institution's balance of electives and requirements; on the exploitation of student labor and the value of literacy and literature; on the rationale for studying criticism; on Judy Shepherd's lecture at Fredonia, The Laramie Project, and queer young adult literature; on how our assigned readings framed debates over the definition of literary studies. Two practicing teachers decided to do structured field experiences, where they planned, taught, and reflected upon units informed by the course. One had her students form teams and produce their own versions of Beyond Normal, with its mix of archival history and writing guide aimed specifically at Fredonia students; the other had his students explore pastoralism and ecocriticism and produce a multimedia response to works by Thoreau, Frost, and Oliver. Some were solid, some were very good, most were in between, but all at least understood the basics of the assignment and wrote capably. Still, I was left wondering how I could better prepare them to "reflect upon and figure out how to apply a key concept, method, or strategy that you have encountered in or out of the course this semester that matters to you and makes a difference to your future plans as a scholar/critic or teacher"--particularly, to focus their reflections and specify their applications.
Students' presentations could be divided into two groups: those who were at Fredonia to earn professional certification tended to focus on works they had heard about and were considering whether and how to teach, from Lowry's The Giver to Anderson's Speak to Runyon's Burn Journals to Hartinger's The Geography Club to Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird to Stoker's Dracula (to help contextualize his students' interest in the Twilight series) to Orwell's 1984 (to address issues of censorship, propaganda, and surveillance); those who were not tended to focus on a canonical writer they had missed or avoided in the past, such as Shakespeare (The Tempest) and Swift (Gulliver's Travels), or were into, such as Leopold (A Sand County Almanac). I was impressed by the students' creativity and effort, but struck again by the gap between my expectations and hopes and what most of them produced. Once again I'll have to better explicate the key elements of the assignment:
What I was hoping for was that students would focus on issues of disciplinarity, curriculum, profession, and/or institution, using their analysis of the work they had chosen and its reception history to speak to their current identity and future plans. Understandably but regrettably, most focused on teaching or research and not on the larger frames the course was designed to disclose.
Fortunately, students' final reflections showed that whatever their struggles on individual assignments, they really had gotten a lot out of the mini-seminar. They tracked their intellectual journeys in the course and pulled together the different readings and assignments with great thoughtfulness, creativity, passion, and specificity. At times, they were brutally honest about the parts of the course that didn't work for them, giving me some excellent ideas for revision. But most of all, they confirmed for me that the general direction, approach, and structure of the course was workable, needing refinement rather than a complete rethinking.
One way I hope it works out is that the faculty and students hearing and/or reading this consider why and how they would approach relating the history and politics of their fields, disciplines, profession, and institution in all the intellectual, activist, and other work they do, on campus and off. I'm talking about relating as comparative/interdisciplinary/theoretical work in their own research, as expressive/narrative/creative work in their own writing, and as curricular/design/pedagogical work in their own teaching, mentoring, and service, but most of all as an effort to recognize the differences between these domains and discourses and yet still make connections across them, for themselves and for others. So just as I hope my students will continue the work of my courses (not just complete the work in them), so, too, am I hoping that my readers and listeners will want to work through the issues I'm raising, work up their own approach to teaching the university, and see how it works out.
One thing listening to yesterday's panels, roundtables, and workshops brought home to me is how important--and difficult--it is to situate ourselves and our work in ways that effectively link the individual, local, regional, national, and planetary. What follows is one attempt to combine self-reflexivity and contextualization, to connect theories and strategies to tactics, and to contribute to the ongoing conversation about teaching--and reworking--the university.
Context
So what do you need to know to make sense of my 1.5-credit, half-semester, required master's-level seminar?
First, you need to know a little bit about SUNY Fredonia, a public regional university within the 64-campus State University of New York. We're located right off the New York State Thruway, southwest of Toronto, Buffalo, and Rochester, and northeast of Pittsburgh, Erie, and Cleveland. So if you're thinking rural rust belt, you're not too far off. Over 40% of our 5100 undergraduates and 350 graduate students come from Chautauqua and Erie counties and roughly 75% come from the small towns, suburbs, and cities of western NY. For all too many of them, the Fredonia campus is the most diverse place they've ever been.
OK, so what about our English department? We're a pretty large department for a school of our size, with 25 tenure-stream faculty and more than 300 majors in English and English Adolescence Education and concentrators in English from the College of Education's Childhood and Early Childhood Education majors. Many of them have switched over to us from other departments and programs, often because they like the way we teach our courses they have taken for general education credit. Because we cap our class sizes at 30 when we're teaching three courses in a semester and 25 when we're teaching four, we're able to be fairly flexible in the classroom, with our readings and assignments, and in our office and on-line interactions with our students. With the core of our undergraduate major a set of introductory-level genre-based world literature courses, we don't subscribe to the coverage model. But because we've been able to do a lot of hiring in the last decade or so, particularly in American literature, creative writing, and English education, students have access to a wide range of courses, approaches, traditions, texts, and media each semester.
I should say that our undergraduate students do. Budget cuts and hiring freezes in the 1980s pared down what had been by all accounts a thriving a vibrant graduate program in English. When I first arrived at Fredonia in the fall of 1998, our graduate enrollments were increasing, partially in response to a proposal, eventually shot down, that the state requirement that all English teachers in NY must qualify for professional certification within three years of gaining provisional certification rather than five. But even when enrollments dipped a little this decade, we still struggled to offer enough stand-alone graduate seminars. Now that they're increasing again, this problem is even more urgent, particularly when New York State's fiscal crisis management means we can't hire our way out of it. Although this year we're seeing more off-campus applicants than usual, for many of our best undergraduates, staying at Fredonia for two more years is an attractive option. My colleagues and I have been brainstorming for the last decade how to impress upon them the difference between undergraduate and graduate study, while trying to impress upon ourselves and each other what it means to teach graduate seminars in a program where the master's is the terminal degree, where our teaching load is much heavier than that of our graduate professors, and where our students have a wide range of educational foundations, learning expectations, and career aspirations.
Purposes
ENGL 500, Introduction to Graduate Studies in English, is one attempt to address these challenges. For faculty who might teach it at the same time as they teach another 1.5-credit course (such as its undergraduate equivalent or the graduate capstone), it provides a way to manage their teaching load in additional to its pedagogical purposes. For graduate students, it provides a common initiation into Fredonia's graduate program in English, whether they are going for professional certification, planning to apply to Ph.D. programs, or figuring out their next step. To mash up the catalog copy, course description, and goals:
Introduction to research methods, strategies, and faculty expectations for reading and writing as a graduate student in literary studies. The course will also explore critical and pedagogical approaches, as well as historical and current trends in literary studies and related disciplines.
This required 1.5-credit seminar aims to help graduate students achieve a deeper and broader perspective on the English department at SUNY Fredonia through consideration and contextualization of department goals and practices in curricular, professional, and institutional frames.
ENGL 500 is designed to prepare students for their future endeavors as English graduate students and new professionals in the field. Students will develop an understanding of the history, purposes, and domains of the discipline of English studies and of the current goals, requirements, structure, components, and content of the English major at SUNY Fredonia.
The last two paragraphs are my own; they signal a desire to embed a survey of methods, approaches, and trends in reading, writing, research, and teaching in the discipline within curricular, professional, and institutional frames. Last semester, I conceived of ENGL 500 as the graduate equivalent of my fall 2005 English Composition course, Writing Matters, where I offered my new undergraduate students opportunities to explore connections between the stakes, purposes, and ideals of higher education, critical and civic literacies, and global challenges of the 21st century--and, in so doing, to question who they were, why they were here, and what they might learn and do. I wanted my new graduate students to have similar opportunities to make sense of this transition in their lives, its identificatory and interpellative structures and situations, and to continue developing a sense of agency and project.
Design
Given the contraints of 8 weekly 150-minute meetings, limited further by my decision to set aside the opening class meeting for a simulation and the final class meeting for student presentations, as well as to build in a library session in the middle, I actually had a little less than 6 full sessions to move us from a consideration of the Fredonia English department's goals and mission in the context of disciplinary histories and debates to a broader examination of how our approaches and practices are informed by and take various positions on the history of debates over curricula in the humanities, the profession of English, and the politics of academic institutions.
In the former 3 sessions, my plan was for students to use Donald Keesey's Contexts for Criticism and M.H. Abrams and Geoffrey Harpham's Glossary of Literary Terms to map different approaches to reading and to use the course ANGEL space to compare their critical travel narratives as a prelude to the session on "reading"; to share samples of their undergraduate writing and, in light of Joseph Gibaldi's MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers and our own locally-produced (mostly by English grad students) writing guide, Beyond Normal: How to Make Your Writing Devilishly Good, as well as a class visit from the professor who was the driving force behind the latter and some youtube clips on new media, to explore their own expectations for writing as a graduate student; and to research how our departmental goals and mission compared to those of other master's programs and report their findings on the course ANGEL space in annotated bibliographies as a prelude to discussing with two professors from the department who have ties to Women's Studies and American Studies how they might consider connecting their reading of literature and theory with their own emerging research interests and focuses.
In the latter 3 sessions, I eased up on the multitasking and ramped up the reading load, as we moved in successive weeks from W.B. Carnochan's The Battleground of the Curriculum to excerpts from Gauri Viswanathan's Masks of Conquest, Michael Berube's The Employment of English, and Amitava Kumar's Passport Photos to most of Marc Bousquet's How the University Works. The three assignments that were due after we completed these discussions--an essay focusing on one idea from the readings or campus events they were most interested in incorporating into their critical or pedagogical practice, a presentation relating the literary work they had chosen to read for the first time that semester to selected issues from the course and in their professional development, and a reflection on their learning in the course--were meant to supplement and build upon our in-class and on-line discussions of these works.
Teaching
Because we were trying to do so many different things in such a short time, I strove to create as relaxed and informal a classroom atmosphere as I could, get the students talking to each other as much as possible, and shift pedagogical gears often enough to keep everyone interested. A couple of examples will have to suffice.
Our opening class meeting culminated in a simulation: as I had a roughly equal number of students taking graduate courses for professional certification as not, I was able to separate them into two groups. Each group would act as a department task force charged with proposing revisions to the requirements for the M.A. or M.S. in Ed. to the Curriculum Committee (me). This role-playing exercise allowed the students to examine their graduate program's structure, identify their expectations, hopes, and anxieties, and imagine ways of doing things differently. It allowed me to share some of the rationales for and histories of the existing structures, answer students' questions, and ask them in turn to consider resource and other implications of their ideas for change. The simulation allowed us to consider relations between individual and institution, structure and agency, constraint and change, project and persuasion; it got the students thinking like professors and taking responsibility for their education. It wasn't only an ice-breaking activity (although it was that, too)--it set the stage and the tone for the rest of the course.
Things didn't always go as planned, of course. But sometimes they went better. Having worked with Bousquet on Workplace: A Journal for Academic Labor for a long time, I knew he'd be interested in talking with my students about his new book, so we set up a skype conference call the day we'd be discussing it. It just so happened that was the same day that one of the largest student protests in Fredonia history took place; a conservative Christian activist came to campus uninvited and proceeded to preach against various aspects of student life he imagined taking place, with a particular emphasis on framing homosexuality as a sin. By the time my class had begun in the late afternoon, what had started as a very small group of students listening to and attempting to engage the speaker in dialogue had grown into a much larger crowd, consisting of hundreds if not a thousand or more students and faculty who had improvised a counter-protest or just come to hang out and enjoy the unseasonably good weather. About 2/3 of my class made a case for observing and reporting on the event (and two even posted a brief report here), while the rest of us brainstormed questions for Bousquet. We had to push back our conversation with him, but were still able to ask a good number of our questions:
- Did you ever expect that your book would be taught in an introduction to graduate studies seminar for master’s students?
- How much do you agree with in Cary Nelson’s foreword?
- In light of what you document, why would anyone want to be a grad student in English?
- What’s so bad about the prevalence of nontenurable teachers in American universities today? Doesn’t their presence keep costs down and save money for parents, students, and taxpayers? Why should parents be worried about having their son or daughter taught by a nontenurable faculty member? Should they get a tuition discount when that happens?
- What’s your central diagnosis of the problems facing American higher education as an institution?
- On page 28 you suggest that Marxist analysis offers the best way of understanding and organizing against contingency in academia. How would you respond now to the tough questions you ask yourself right on that page, particularly “In the big picture of global exploitation, just how important are the problems of underemployed holders of doctoral degrees anyway?”
- Is tenure part of the problem or part of the solution? How has your own tenure affected your role in the academic labor movement? What would it take for tenured faculty to stop being complicit with the trend toward expansion of nontenurable teachers in the professoriate?
- Are unions part of the problem or part of the solution? Look at the U.S. auto industry--and the ways existing faculty unions haven’t slowed the turn toward nontenurable teachers much, if at all....
- Do you think the disconnect between most faculty’s politics (generally liberal) and most Americans’ politics (generally conservative) is a problem for American higher ed? When Ward Churchill and Bill Ayers are the poster children of academia to a good portion of the American public, is it any surprise budgets are bad and getting worse?
- What’s your position on the “market regulation” solution you offer on pages 208-209 today in light of the current financial/credit crisis? How do you set it up? Where does the funding come from? How do you enforce it?
- How about pg. 47’s converting nontenurable piecework to tenure-track jobs idea? Do you anticipate any problems with implementing it?
- Do you have any advice for SUNY, where its budget and tuition levels have always been a political football between the legislature and governor? Gov. Patterson just announced he wants to cut $2B more from the NYS budget—and we’ve already taken a 14% cut ($4.2M)....
Things didn't always work out so serendipitously, of course. Due to heavy demand for sessions with reference librarians, I had to push our library visit back to the week we were supposed to discuss Carnochan's history of curricular debates in the humanities. Students struggled to keep up with the readings, connect them with the assignments, and use both as tools for self-reflection. But overall the course went much better than expected and I'm excited to get a chance to revise and teach it this coming fall.
Results
Students had a hard time categorizing and comparing the goals, missions, and requirements of the master's programs that they researched with the ones in their program at Fredonia, mostly because few departments were as explicit about them as we are on our web site and few students were ready to unpack what was left implicit on their web sites. By and large, they didn't do a very good job of using our readings and discussions on ways of reading to analyze the underlying logic of other programs' structures.
Students wrote critical essays on Marian Wright Edelman's Convocation lecture and the vocation of a teacher; on the Eliot-McCosh debates and their undergraduate institution's balance of electives and requirements; on the exploitation of student labor and the value of literacy and literature; on the rationale for studying criticism; on Judy Shepherd's lecture at Fredonia, The Laramie Project, and queer young adult literature; on how our assigned readings framed debates over the definition of literary studies. Two practicing teachers decided to do structured field experiences, where they planned, taught, and reflected upon units informed by the course. One had her students form teams and produce their own versions of Beyond Normal, with its mix of archival history and writing guide aimed specifically at Fredonia students; the other had his students explore pastoralism and ecocriticism and produce a multimedia response to works by Thoreau, Frost, and Oliver. Some were solid, some were very good, most were in between, but all at least understood the basics of the assignment and wrote capably. Still, I was left wondering how I could better prepare them to "reflect upon and figure out how to apply a key concept, method, or strategy that you have encountered in or out of the course this semester that matters to you and makes a difference to your future plans as a scholar/critic or teacher"--particularly, to focus their reflections and specify their applications.
Students' presentations could be divided into two groups: those who were at Fredonia to earn professional certification tended to focus on works they had heard about and were considering whether and how to teach, from Lowry's The Giver to Anderson's Speak to Runyon's Burn Journals to Hartinger's The Geography Club to Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird to Stoker's Dracula (to help contextualize his students' interest in the Twilight series) to Orwell's 1984 (to address issues of censorship, propaganda, and surveillance); those who were not tended to focus on a canonical writer they had missed or avoided in the past, such as Shakespeare (The Tempest) and Swift (Gulliver's Travels), or were into, such as Leopold (A Sand County Almanac). I was impressed by the students' creativity and effort, but struck again by the gap between my expectations and hopes and what most of them produced. Once again I'll have to better explicate the key elements of the assignment:
After choosing, reading, and researching the reception history of a work of your own choice that you haven't yet read, you will prepare and deliver a 10-minute presentation on it that connects some of the key ways it has been interpreted and valued with the issues we've engaged in the course that have mattered most to you and have best helped you clarify what you intend to do while a graduate student and after.
What I was hoping for was that students would focus on issues of disciplinarity, curriculum, profession, and/or institution, using their analysis of the work they had chosen and its reception history to speak to their current identity and future plans. Understandably but regrettably, most focused on teaching or research and not on the larger frames the course was designed to disclose.
Fortunately, students' final reflections showed that whatever their struggles on individual assignments, they really had gotten a lot out of the mini-seminar. They tracked their intellectual journeys in the course and pulled together the different readings and assignments with great thoughtfulness, creativity, passion, and specificity. At times, they were brutally honest about the parts of the course that didn't work for them, giving me some excellent ideas for revision. But most of all, they confirmed for me that the general direction, approach, and structure of the course was workable, needing refinement rather than a complete rethinking.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Bloggers and Gentlemen
Just a quick note to publicly acknowledge the utter awesomeness of Rob MacDougall and Marc Bousquet. Rob and his family drove much farther than I assumed they had to in order to meet the Constructivist clan at the Canadian Falls late this summer, while Marc put up with the perils of a skype-mediated conference call with my 11 students in Introduction to Graduate Studies in English yesterday afternoon (his time) in order to answer our questions on his book How the University Works.
We actually pushed the call with Marc back an hour later than planned because I had given my students the option of witnessing/documenting the largest campus/community protest I've ever heard of at my university--actually, an impromptu counter-protest, complete with speeches, musical performances, and skits against an anti-gaynutjob individual with full free speech rights whose point of view the more-than-2,000 people over the course of the afternoon respectfully but firmly declined to assent to--and three-quarters of tbe class took me up on my offer of extra credit to respond to it on our ANGEL discussion forum and perhaps more publicly. I'd like to think our campus made one transplanted western NYer proud. And I'm hoping at least some of my students make good use of the temporary privileges of Citizen SE authorship I've extended them. Stay tuned!
For those clickers from Inside Higher Ed checking out the obscurest blog on teh internets for the first time, please do pay a visit to Rob's and Marc's sites. Their writing, their voices, their scholarship, and their generosity make the academo-critical blogdustrial complex a better virtual space.
We actually pushed the call with Marc back an hour later than planned because I had given my students the option of witnessing/documenting the largest campus/community protest I've ever heard of at my university--actually, an impromptu counter-protest, complete with speeches, musical performances, and skits against an anti-gay
For those clickers from Inside Higher Ed checking out the obscurest blog on teh internets for the first time, please do pay a visit to Rob's and Marc's sites. Their writing, their voices, their scholarship, and their generosity make the academo-critical blogdustrial complex a better virtual space.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Beyond Just Talking
OK, so we just had our own little in-house symposium on world literature/s that I've been blogging on a bit lately (and on which more to come) that we're thinking of expanding for next fall, but if there's one place I could be this weekend besides home grading, it would be the Rethinking the University conference that Marc Bousquet has been blogging about lately at How the University Works. I'm particularly interested in the calls there to "teach the university," as I've been doing something along those lines the past few years and will have a chance to do it again next fall, once for undergrads entering the major and again for Master's students entering the graduate program. If anyone in Blogoramaville has any suggestions on how to revise my approaches to raising these issues with students, chime in!
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Want/Need/Love II: A Response to Craig Smith
Reading over Craig's careful unpacking of some of the assumptions underlying my "two out of three ain't bad" question to Blogoramaville on tenure, I'm struck again by how productive his proposed starting point is. To those who tend to like my thought-experiment proposal for the way it expands tenure to protect the people who currently make up the majority of the professoriate and better value their work, Craig points out that "you would be arguing that the types of positions currently being employed were, to a certain extent, 'acceptable,' but the current treatment of the people in those positions is not." On the other hand,
What I find so productive about this starting point is Craig's awareness of the multiple ways these options could be characterized--working within the status quo vs. heading back to the future, pragmatism vs. idealism, accepting vs. transforming current staffing patterns, the good vs. the perfect, settling vs. dreaming, and so on--and his attention to the limitations not only of either option, but also of the dichotomy itself.
In the spirit of Craig's post, then, let me try to identify a few other assumptions and dichotomies--in addition to the ones on his list like "people vs. positions, short-term strategy vs. long term goals, collective bargaining vs. legislation, and local realities vs. public policy"--we may well have to think through in the course of our discussion.
First, we are assuming tenure is something worth keeping in academia. Tenured Radical has made a few arguments against tenure that are worth considering in later posts.
Second, we are assuming that tenure as an institution is something that can be reformed, transformed, abolished, or replaced with something better. Given that institutions are in some sense designed to resist change (whether we think of that in the "good" sense of conserving valuable traditions or the "bad" sense of resisting needed improvements is another matter), we also need to think about strategies for making what we want to happen happen.
Third, we should avoid assuming that "we" are the only ones with a stake in the discussion--students, alumni, administrators, trustees, parents, taxpayers, legislators, corporations, unions, and the general public that's supposed to benefit from the institution of tenure--all care quite a bit about what happens with/to tenure and will seize the opportunity to wrest control away from "us" whenever possible. So in addition to thinking strategically about getting results, we also have to be sure we're thinking strategically about blocking others from getting the results they want that we don't want. And since "we" are only provisionally a "we," given how many kinds of faculty positions actually exist, we also need to think about strengthening and broadening coalitions, converting opponents into allies, and so on.
I'm running out of time here at onechan's yochien, so I'll keep thinking about assumptions and dichotomies. But I want to close by talking about the kind of people I used to work with who, in retrospect, helped inspire my original question. One used to teach composition, world literature, creative writing, and science fiction, among other things, at my university as well as at the community college to the south of us. Although he didn't have a Ph.D. and had no intention of getting one, he had done a dual MFA/MA which involved a significant amount of research in his areas of specialty. Morever, he was a gifted teacher who knew how to communicate with and inspire the students from the area who made up the vast majority of our students. When he didn't make it to the MLA interview stage in a creative writing search we were doing years ago, he decided to take on a full-time position at the community college rather than keep adjuncting with us. Another dropped out of her Ph.D. program but continued to research and publish in her area of specialty while teaching composition, world literature, and Native American literature. She, too, left after we hired a tenure-track Native Americanist in our department (although there were other, personal, factors that played a greater part in her decision). So part of my asking the "two out of three ain't bad question" is to ask whether these colleagues and friends might have decided to stay and continue contributing to the work of the department if they had had better options for pay, security, and advancement.
[Update 3/2/08: Whoops, in my rush to finish I forgot to mention Assumption #4, which is that we'll be able to leverage the funding needed to reform or transform higher ed's staffing structures. This gets to the question of who pays for higher ed and how it should be financed. And not just for higher ed in general, but for the many different kinds of institutions within it.]
if we were trying to push back against contingency and specialization (what I usually call disaggregation), we would not want to be arguing for creating permanent jobs out of lower paid positions or more positions with narrower responsibilities. Rather you would be focused on moving more people into stable full-time positions with a wider mix of responsibilities.
What I find so productive about this starting point is Craig's awareness of the multiple ways these options could be characterized--working within the status quo vs. heading back to the future, pragmatism vs. idealism, accepting vs. transforming current staffing patterns, the good vs. the perfect, settling vs. dreaming, and so on--and his attention to the limitations not only of either option, but also of the dichotomy itself.
Now, of course, I have just been talking about working within the status quo or moving back (forward?) to a model based on a corps of full-time faculty. And, as with most simple dichotomies, it is not this simple--the path forward surely involves doing some of both and the mix is the key. However, I do think it is important to keep some idea about what we are assuming when we have this discussion. Not in the sense that we have to decide which of these perspectives represents our position, but, in fact, because of just the opposite. How can we work on both simultaneously and not get overly committed to one of these perspectives which so often seems to lead to a downward spiraling argument?
In the spirit of Craig's post, then, let me try to identify a few other assumptions and dichotomies--in addition to the ones on his list like "people vs. positions, short-term strategy vs. long term goals, collective bargaining vs. legislation, and local realities vs. public policy"--we may well have to think through in the course of our discussion.
First, we are assuming tenure is something worth keeping in academia. Tenured Radical has made a few arguments against tenure that are worth considering in later posts.
Second, we are assuming that tenure as an institution is something that can be reformed, transformed, abolished, or replaced with something better. Given that institutions are in some sense designed to resist change (whether we think of that in the "good" sense of conserving valuable traditions or the "bad" sense of resisting needed improvements is another matter), we also need to think about strategies for making what we want to happen happen.
Third, we should avoid assuming that "we" are the only ones with a stake in the discussion--students, alumni, administrators, trustees, parents, taxpayers, legislators, corporations, unions, and the general public that's supposed to benefit from the institution of tenure--all care quite a bit about what happens with/to tenure and will seize the opportunity to wrest control away from "us" whenever possible. So in addition to thinking strategically about getting results, we also have to be sure we're thinking strategically about blocking others from getting the results they want that we don't want. And since "we" are only provisionally a "we," given how many kinds of faculty positions actually exist, we also need to think about strengthening and broadening coalitions, converting opponents into allies, and so on.
I'm running out of time here at onechan's yochien, so I'll keep thinking about assumptions and dichotomies. But I want to close by talking about the kind of people I used to work with who, in retrospect, helped inspire my original question. One used to teach composition, world literature, creative writing, and science fiction, among other things, at my university as well as at the community college to the south of us. Although he didn't have a Ph.D. and had no intention of getting one, he had done a dual MFA/MA which involved a significant amount of research in his areas of specialty. Morever, he was a gifted teacher who knew how to communicate with and inspire the students from the area who made up the vast majority of our students. When he didn't make it to the MLA interview stage in a creative writing search we were doing years ago, he decided to take on a full-time position at the community college rather than keep adjuncting with us. Another dropped out of her Ph.D. program but continued to research and publish in her area of specialty while teaching composition, world literature, and Native American literature. She, too, left after we hired a tenure-track Native Americanist in our department (although there were other, personal, factors that played a greater part in her decision). So part of my asking the "two out of three ain't bad question" is to ask whether these colleagues and friends might have decided to stay and continue contributing to the work of the department if they had had better options for pay, security, and advancement.
[Update 3/2/08: Whoops, in my rush to finish I forgot to mention Assumption #4, which is that we'll be able to leverage the funding needed to reform or transform higher ed's staffing structures. This gets to the question of who pays for higher ed and how it should be financed. And not just for higher ed in general, but for the many different kinds of institutions within it.]
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
The Million Dollar Question
Another plea to the collective wisdom of Blogoramaville, this one having to do with a faculty-professionals union's priorities. I want my half dozen regular readers to help me start a meme.
Like the California Faculty Association and the Professional Staff Caucus at CUNY, United University Professions is a union that represents all teaching faculty, from Lecturers and Visiting Assistant Professors all the way up to Full Professors, in our case in the SUNY system (where we're a bit different is that we also represent academic professionals). In that infamous comment thread at How the University Works, I criticized UUP's leadership for, in essence, failing to live up to PSC-CUNY's and the CFA's example.
Mayra Besosa, a full-time lecturer and former member of the CFA's bargaining team, recently explained why issues of contingent academic labor are at the front and center of the CFA's agenda and why faculty solidarity across ranks is so crucial. She doesn't get into that many specifics, but in Marc Bousquet's How the University Works, there's an aside that caught my attention and inspired the thought experiment I'm about to put out there.
With that set-up, here's my scenario for Blogoramaville to ponder:
This is what I'm calling the million dollar question. Here's hoping it goes far and wide and gets some interesting responses.
And yes, there is a backstory to my asking this. But no, I'm not going into it now. Oh, and since I am not even a member of my chapter's Executive Board any more--thanks to the slowness of mail to and from Japan--this post has nothing to do with the current tentative agreement that UUP members will be voting on soon. And very little to do with the recent election of a new UUP President.
[Update 2/19/08: For a cogent clarification of AFT's FACE Campaign goals in Washington state, check out the latest from Craig Smith.]
Like the California Faculty Association and the Professional Staff Caucus at CUNY, United University Professions is a union that represents all teaching faculty, from Lecturers and Visiting Assistant Professors all the way up to Full Professors, in our case in the SUNY system (where we're a bit different is that we also represent academic professionals). In that infamous comment thread at How the University Works, I criticized UUP's leadership for, in essence, failing to live up to PSC-CUNY's and the CFA's example.
Mayra Besosa, a full-time lecturer and former member of the CFA's bargaining team, recently explained why issues of contingent academic labor are at the front and center of the CFA's agenda and why faculty solidarity across ranks is so crucial. She doesn't get into that many specifics, but in Marc Bousquet's How the University Works, there's an aside that caught my attention and inspired the thought experiment I'm about to put out there.
One recent California State University contract--through which the California Faculty Association compelled the administration to raise tenure-track hiring by 20 percent annually over the life of the contract in exchange for concessions in their cost of living adjustment--is an eye-opening, and heartening, exception.... (57)
With that set-up, here's my scenario for Blogoramaville to ponder:
Pretend, for the moment, that you are represented by a faculty union (let's call it UUP). Negotiations for a new contract are around the corner. UUP leadership is divided between those who want to emphasize traditional bread-and-butter issues (salary and benefits the top priority in negotiations) and those who want to try a different approach (prioritizing the expansion of the tenurable faculty as a negotiating strategy rather than only as a lobbying campaign). So they work together to develop a survey and put the question to a referendum. The survey is designed to help them figure out the complexity of the members' views; the referendum to gain clarity on the level of support for the new approach.
With me so far? OK, I'm not actually going to develop that survey myself, but think of your rationale for your decision on the referendum as what it is designed to elicit. So what I'm looking for from you is your decision and reasoning behind it on the following question:
UUP is considering a new strategy for the next round of negotiations. We are willing to offer some concessions on our demands for improvements in salary and benefits if New York State will agree to incorporate key provisions of the AFT's FACE Campaign into the next contract. So, for instance, if the state commits to reaching a 75/25 tenured/tenurable faculty to non-tenurable faculty ratio, having 2/3 of students in SUNY classes at each campus taught by tenured/tenurable faculty, and acting on our long-standing demands for improving the compensation, security, working conditions, academic freedom, and professional development opportunities of the nontenurable, we'll be open to finding ways to help them pay for all this. Do you support this approach to the next round of negotiations? Why or why not?
This is what I'm calling the million dollar question. Here's hoping it goes far and wide and gets some interesting responses.
And yes, there is a backstory to my asking this. But no, I'm not going into it now. Oh, and since I am not even a member of my chapter's Executive Board any more--thanks to the slowness of mail to and from Japan--this post has nothing to do with the current tentative agreement that UUP members will be voting on soon. And very little to do with the recent election of a new UUP President.
[Update 2/19/08: For a cogent clarification of AFT's FACE Campaign goals in Washington state, check out the latest from Craig Smith.]
Monday, February 11, 2008
An Open Invitation to "Anti-hypocrisy advocate"
Whoever you are--whether tenured faculty, long-time adjunct activist, or someone else entirely--I was entirely serious when I invited you to guest blog here at CitizenSE over on that comment thread at How the University Works. So I'll restate the offer: I'll publish your review of Marc's book here--in the exact state you send it to me. I'll even post a response. You can call it a refereed and peer-reviewed electronic publication on your c.v., if you wish, but you don't have to out yourself to me or anyone who happens to drop by the obscurest blog on teh intertubes. Heck, if you want to join in on the polemical fun at the debate blog I founded and sometimes contribute to still, I'm open to that--that AAUP-NY silencing thing sounds like it deserves wider play.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I called you names, tossed off unfounded accusations and disparaging remarks, and concern trolled you. But if you can't take what you were dishing out, you may as well go back to commenting at Inside Higher Ed under different pseudonyms.
***
CitizenSE regulars, please lend me your critical distance! Was AHA trolling Marc? Was I too mean to AHA? Have Marc and I become the new good old boys as AHA accuses? Special bonus question: why do you think AHA rubbed me so precisely the wrong way? Oh, and congratulate Marc on his good news!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I called you names, tossed off unfounded accusations and disparaging remarks, and concern trolled you. But if you can't take what you were dishing out, you may as well go back to commenting at Inside Higher Ed under different pseudonyms.
***
CitizenSE regulars, please lend me your critical distance! Was AHA trolling Marc? Was I too mean to AHA? Have Marc and I become the new good old boys as AHA accuses? Special bonus question: why do you think AHA rubbed me so precisely the wrong way? Oh, and congratulate Marc on his good news!
Sunday, February 10, 2008
On Funding Public Higher Education, Part V: Service; or, Seizing the Levers
Take a look around your campus: do you have a union? an AAUP chapter? a college or university senate? Now ask yourself: who's in charge of them? what is their agenda? do I like it or not? could I do better?
The reason I ask these questions is a comment thread I've been participating on at Marc Bousquet's How the University Works. In the course of dropping an f-bomb, constructively of course, I tried to make the point that hypocrisy cuts both ways and organizing is the answer.
But the point that I want to make here is that tenure-track faculty need to stop treating service as the third wheel of the research-teaching-service triad. Sure, three's a crowd, but the sooner we think of service as the terrain for institutional activism, the better off we'll be, personally and as a profession. So do me a favor: read Marc's book, consider his arguments, and reflect on what you can do, individually and with colleagues in your department, division, university, and system (if you're part of one) to solve some of the problems he identifies in the places you can make the biggest impact.
And the point I want to make to the nontenurable majority is similar: if your university is like mine, there's a real generation gap in campus leadership among the faculty. Rather than turn it into another excuse to slag baby boomers, why not join in and take over the institutions at your campus from which you can best make change? If the leadership on your campus is anything like mine, they're eager to mentor newbies and give them serious responsibilities. And if not, well, that's why they have elections.
Unlike the wealthiest private institutions, most public higher education institutions really are constrained--by legislators afraid to raise taxes or authorize tuition hikes, by a history of failure to prioritize endowment growth, and much more--to exploit their part-timers and overwork their full-timers. Taking on more work--in an area least likely to improve your salary or status in the short run--may sound rather counterintuitive, to say the least. But unless administrators, legislators, parents, and prospective students are made aware of the quality of the work the faculty is doing and how much better we could do with more funding, their only demand is going to be for colleges and universities to cut costs.
More on that demand later.
The reason I ask these questions is a comment thread I've been participating on at Marc Bousquet's How the University Works. In the course of dropping an f-bomb, constructively of course, I tried to make the point that hypocrisy cuts both ways and organizing is the answer.
But the point that I want to make here is that tenure-track faculty need to stop treating service as the third wheel of the research-teaching-service triad. Sure, three's a crowd, but the sooner we think of service as the terrain for institutional activism, the better off we'll be, personally and as a profession. So do me a favor: read Marc's book, consider his arguments, and reflect on what you can do, individually and with colleagues in your department, division, university, and system (if you're part of one) to solve some of the problems he identifies in the places you can make the biggest impact.
And the point I want to make to the nontenurable majority is similar: if your university is like mine, there's a real generation gap in campus leadership among the faculty. Rather than turn it into another excuse to slag baby boomers, why not join in and take over the institutions at your campus from which you can best make change? If the leadership on your campus is anything like mine, they're eager to mentor newbies and give them serious responsibilities. And if not, well, that's why they have elections.
Unlike the wealthiest private institutions, most public higher education institutions really are constrained--by legislators afraid to raise taxes or authorize tuition hikes, by a history of failure to prioritize endowment growth, and much more--to exploit their part-timers and overwork their full-timers. Taking on more work--in an area least likely to improve your salary or status in the short run--may sound rather counterintuitive, to say the least. But unless administrators, legislators, parents, and prospective students are made aware of the quality of the work the faculty is doing and how much better we could do with more funding, their only demand is going to be for colleges and universities to cut costs.
More on that demand later.
Monday, January 28, 2008
On Funding Public Higher Education, Part IV: The Billion Dollar Endowment Club
Late last week, NACUBO released their 2007 report, which discloses that there are now 76 colleges and universities in the Billion Dollar Endowment Club. That same week, Inside Higher Education covered new developments in the world of higher education endowments and their political repercussions. And the always-thoughtful Timothy Burke, riffing on an Andrew Delbanco/Roger Lehecka op-ed in The New York Times, considered alternatives to a renewed financial aid arms race between the Harvards (#1; $34.63B) and Yales (#2; $22.53B) and the Williamses (#1 small liberal arts college; #33 overall; $1.89B) and Pomonas (#2 SLAC; #38 overall; $1.76B) of the U.S. My goal in this post is to use Burke's analysis and proposals as a lever to shift the discussion from relations between the top and bottom of the Billion Dollar Endowment Club to relations between the BDEC and the overwhelming majority of the 4000+ higher education institutions in the U.S.--those with endowments less than $50M.
Let's start with Burke's insight that, particularly among peer institutions, endowments matter:
You don't have to get to the final analysis to conclude that Swarthmore is wealthy. Its $1.44B endowment (#6 SLAC and #50 overall), is over twice the size of Hamilton College's (#16 SLAC; #101 overall, $.7B)--the college I graduated from--which, by the way, has an endowment around 40 times the size of the institution's at which I work, even though we enroll more undergraduates than it and Swarthmore put together (don't even ask what percentage of Princeton's endowment ours is!). With its wealth, Swarthmore can offer about the same range of majors and courses to about the same range of students as the much larger institutions at the top of the BDEC, but distinguishes itself from them through its choice to do so in small classes taught mostly by tenured and tenure-track professors. Part of this is by necessity--they have no graduate students toapprentice exploit. But a lot of it is seeking comparative advantage--they believe that severely limiting the number of courses taught by non-tenurable faculty on their campus will better prepare the students they choose and who choose them to excel in their careers and donate enough over the course of them so that they can continue to afford to try luring future students from the larger highly selective private colleges and universities at the top of the BDEC.
Burke would like to see the SLACs that can afford to make this gamble
Although Swarthmore could afford to add resources to this effort rather than shifting them away from other kinds of diversity initiatives, Burke's proposal is admirable for many reasons, particularly in light of Delbanco and Lehecka's "scandalous fact" that
And it is clever, as well. Those schools that follow Burke's lead would be gaining, at least for the short term, another comparative advantage on their peer institutions, as there presumably are the same or perhaps greater advantages from the experience of economic diversity as of other forms. Still, implementing it would affect only the relatively few such students who could be admitted into such highly selective small colleges. This is one of the key problems with the social mobility model that Burke invokes here. Even if every single private institution in the BDEC were to act on his proposal, we'd continue to have a higher education system in which the most educational resources were devoted to the students who, in a sense, least need them.
To be sure, there are several public systems in the BDEC, but take one guess where most of the endowment resources typically flow in them. Yup, to the "flagships," the Ph.D.-granting institutions--those that value research over teaching, that substitute non-tenurable teachers for tenurable ones as often as they can, just like the Harvards and Yales of the BDEC. The portion of the endowment that escapes this gravitational field and makes its way to the "satellites," the public regional universities, guarantees that no matter how much individual administators and faculty in them value teaching, the percentage of courses taught by the non-tenurable remains shockingly high.
Let's face it: probably about a dozen of the schools in the BDEC can afford to do just about anything they want with respect to student target markets, curriculum, staffing, tuition, fees, and aid, and institutional growth. The rest are looking nervously over their shoulders at what those institutions decide to do. But if they all were to ask themselves how they could have the greatest effect on class in America, they would stop obsessing over intra-BDEC relations, stop acting as if the relations between the wealthy and less wealthy were all that mattered, and start paying attention to relations between elite and non-elite colleges and universities.
The BDEC could, for instance, turn the table on the states and the federal government. There's an easy way to shift public discussion from why the BDEC is spending so little while their endowments are growing so much to why public higher education is so underfunded. If most in the BDEC were to follow my advice and get creative about donating 1% of their capital gains each year to deserving colleges and universities that value teaching, they would not only be putting their endowments to better use but also showing up the state. If they were to act on the principle that quality education ought not to be a class privilege, they might be able to shame the state into changing how, in Marc Bousquet's nice phrase, the university works. But of course they'd have to get their own houses in order, at the same time, and stop relying so much on non-tenurable teachers.
I hope that Burke would support such a strategy, even though in the long run it could jeopardize the very comparative advantage that distinguishes the Swarthmores of the world from the Harvards. The best SLACs, after all, benefit from the exploitation of graduate employees and other casualized academic workers that is the norm in the rest of the American academic world. Were that exploitation to become the exception rather than the rule in U.S. higher education, what would become of the formerly exceptional SLACs? This is where Burke's emphasis on mission differentiation takes on added significance.
To return to Burke's earlier "cake" metaphor that is recalled by his closing "shot" metaphor, his advice is open to multiple readings. Perhaps Burke is playing with the metaphor that in the American educational system primary education is the appetizer, secondary education the main course, and post-secondary the dessert. Diversifying dessert offerings makes sense within this frame. Rather than trying to decorate the cake differently or use an innovative icing--or even develop a new recipe--he is calling on those outside the BDEC to stop assuming that cakes are the only dessert that need be served. Or perhaps Burke is juxtaposing the meat and potatoes education available at most colleges and universities with the luxuries of the BDEC and suggesting that less wealthy institutions get out of the dessert business entirely.
In either case, while avoiding a certain "Let them eat cake" cluelessness about class in America, Burke's metaphors obscure as much as they reveal. U.S. higher education does need a shot in the arm. But no matter what an institution specializes in or how it differentiates its mission from its peers, its students still need well-balanced meals produced and served primarily by tenured and tenure-track professionals. Unfortunately, as Bousquet shows in How the University Works, what most get instead is a system modelled after the fast food industry:
This is why Delbanco and Lehecka's proposals for federal action, while representing a valuable first step toward solving the accessibility crisis in private higher education, don't go nearly far enough toward addressing the disease raging through the entire system.
Making higher education affordable for all matters little if the way it is done provides perverse incentives for the few colleges and universities that don't follow the sickening labor and staffing practices of the Harvards and Yales of the world into following their lead. If the best-endowed private institutions in the BDEC were instead to follow the lead of the Swarthmores and the Hamiltons of the world, their example might help restore the health of higher education in America.
Let's start with Burke's insight that, particularly among peer institutions, endowments matter:
Each institution uses marketing literature to highlight its major sources of distinctiveness, like Swarthmore’s Honors program or Reed’s focus on individualized senior research projects. But these are like shiny decorations on top of a basically similar cake. The big difference, in the end, is the relative wealth of a given institution: that’s what determines how big and lustrous and tasty the cake really is. Swarthmore can support the range of subjects and favorable student-faculty ratio that it has because in the end, that’s what it spends its considerable money doing: having a curriculum that’s unusually wide for the small size of the institution without using large lecture courses or adjunct instructors as the primary vehicle for delivering that curriculum.
You don't have to get to the final analysis to conclude that Swarthmore is wealthy. Its $1.44B endowment (#6 SLAC and #50 overall), is over twice the size of Hamilton College's (#16 SLAC; #101 overall, $.7B)--the college I graduated from--which, by the way, has an endowment around 40 times the size of the institution's at which I work, even though we enroll more undergraduates than it and Swarthmore put together (don't even ask what percentage of Princeton's endowment ours is!). With its wealth, Swarthmore can offer about the same range of majors and courses to about the same range of students as the much larger institutions at the top of the BDEC, but distinguishes itself from them through its choice to do so in small classes taught mostly by tenured and tenure-track professors. Part of this is by necessity--they have no graduate students to
Burke would like to see the SLACs that can afford to make this gamble
do a lot more to shoulder the responsibility of social mobility, to work harder to bring in first-generation college students. To a significant extent, I’d like to see Swarthmore and all of its peers shift some of the efforts we presently put into pursuing diversity across a very wide range into the dedicated pursuit of qualified applicants who would be first-generation college students, to look at economic diversity as Job #1.
Although Swarthmore could afford to add resources to this effort rather than shifting them away from other kinds of diversity initiatives, Burke's proposal is admirable for many reasons, particularly in light of Delbanco and Lehecka's "scandalous fact" that
between 2004 and 2006--an era of enormous private wealth accumulation--27 of the 30 top-ranked American universities and 26 of the top 30 liberal arts colleges saw a decline in the percentage of low-income (Pell-grant-eligible) students.
And it is clever, as well. Those schools that follow Burke's lead would be gaining, at least for the short term, another comparative advantage on their peer institutions, as there presumably are the same or perhaps greater advantages from the experience of economic diversity as of other forms. Still, implementing it would affect only the relatively few such students who could be admitted into such highly selective small colleges. This is one of the key problems with the social mobility model that Burke invokes here. Even if every single private institution in the BDEC were to act on his proposal, we'd continue to have a higher education system in which the most educational resources were devoted to the students who, in a sense, least need them.
To be sure, there are several public systems in the BDEC, but take one guess where most of the endowment resources typically flow in them. Yup, to the "flagships," the Ph.D.-granting institutions--those that value research over teaching, that substitute non-tenurable teachers for tenurable ones as often as they can, just like the Harvards and Yales of the BDEC. The portion of the endowment that escapes this gravitational field and makes its way to the "satellites," the public regional universities, guarantees that no matter how much individual administators and faculty in them value teaching, the percentage of courses taught by the non-tenurable remains shockingly high.
Let's face it: probably about a dozen of the schools in the BDEC can afford to do just about anything they want with respect to student target markets, curriculum, staffing, tuition, fees, and aid, and institutional growth. The rest are looking nervously over their shoulders at what those institutions decide to do. But if they all were to ask themselves how they could have the greatest effect on class in America, they would stop obsessing over intra-BDEC relations, stop acting as if the relations between the wealthy and less wealthy were all that mattered, and start paying attention to relations between elite and non-elite colleges and universities.
The BDEC could, for instance, turn the table on the states and the federal government. There's an easy way to shift public discussion from why the BDEC is spending so little while their endowments are growing so much to why public higher education is so underfunded. If most in the BDEC were to follow my advice and get creative about donating 1% of their capital gains each year to deserving colleges and universities that value teaching, they would not only be putting their endowments to better use but also showing up the state. If they were to act on the principle that quality education ought not to be a class privilege, they might be able to shame the state into changing how, in Marc Bousquet's nice phrase, the university works. But of course they'd have to get their own houses in order, at the same time, and stop relying so much on non-tenurable teachers.
I hope that Burke would support such a strategy, even though in the long run it could jeopardize the very comparative advantage that distinguishes the Swarthmores of the world from the Harvards. The best SLACs, after all, benefit from the exploitation of graduate employees and other casualized academic workers that is the norm in the rest of the American academic world. Were that exploitation to become the exception rather than the rule in U.S. higher education, what would become of the formerly exceptional SLACs? This is where Burke's emphasis on mission differentiation takes on added significance.
Less wealthy institutions could make a different choice than throwing poorer students overboard in order to discount tuition to less academically qualified but financially attractive upper-middle class students. They could aim to live in the “long tail” of the education marketplace. Right now, there are relatively few selective colleges and universities that try to deliver a strongly distinctive kind of education....
I think the answer for less wealthy institutions isn’t to either keep up with the Joneses or complain bitterly about the inequity of Harvard’s tuition initiatives. It’s to get out of the game of trying to be all things to all possible students, to drop services and curriculum not because of a need to indiscriminately economize but because of a strategic, deliberate decision to specialize or seek distinction in some highly specific area or philosophical approach. Frankly, I think the wealthier institutions could use a shot of this kind of thinking, too.
To return to Burke's earlier "cake" metaphor that is recalled by his closing "shot" metaphor, his advice is open to multiple readings. Perhaps Burke is playing with the metaphor that in the American educational system primary education is the appetizer, secondary education the main course, and post-secondary the dessert. Diversifying dessert offerings makes sense within this frame. Rather than trying to decorate the cake differently or use an innovative icing--or even develop a new recipe--he is calling on those outside the BDEC to stop assuming that cakes are the only dessert that need be served. Or perhaps Burke is juxtaposing the meat and potatoes education available at most colleges and universities with the luxuries of the BDEC and suggesting that less wealthy institutions get out of the dessert business entirely.
In either case, while avoiding a certain "Let them eat cake" cluelessness about class in America, Burke's metaphors obscure as much as they reveal. U.S. higher education does need a shot in the arm. But no matter what an institution specializes in or how it differentiates its mission from its peers, its students still need well-balanced meals produced and served primarily by tenured and tenure-track professionals. Unfortunately, as Bousquet shows in How the University Works, what most get instead is a system modelled after the fast food industry:
Ask any thirty-seven-year-old graduate employee, with her ten or more years of service and just beginning to peak in her pedagogical and scholarly powers, yet soon to be replaced by a twenty-two-year-old master's degree candidate: Is this a system that teaches well? And she will answer: Heck, no, it is just a system that teaches cheaply.... [T]he system of disposable faculty continuously replaces its most experienced and accomplished teachers with persons who are less accomplished and less experienced. (42)
This is why Delbanco and Lehecka's proposals for federal action, while representing a valuable first step toward solving the accessibility crisis in private higher education, don't go nearly far enough toward addressing the disease raging through the entire system.
For every college to become accessible to talented students regardless of income, the federal government must create enhanced grant programs, progressive tax incentives and programs that reduce the debt of graduates who spend time in public service.
Making higher education affordable for all matters little if the way it is done provides perverse incentives for the few colleges and universities that don't follow the sickening labor and staffing practices of the Harvards and Yales of the world into following their lead. If the best-endowed private institutions in the BDEC were instead to follow the lead of the Swarthmores and the Hamiltons of the world, their example might help restore the health of higher education in America.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
On Funding Public Higher Education, Part I: Webquest
It's no secret that I work at a public regional university in New York state, so I've seen up close and personal what the chronic underfunding of SUNY means to students, faculty, and western NY. Over the course of 2008, I plan to do an ongoing series on funding public higher education, a particularly relevant topic now that Governor Eliot Spitzer's NY State Commission on Higher Education has released its preliminary report. This post sets the scene for my series, webquest style.
For representative arguments that public higher education should be free, check out Marc Bousquet (How the University Works) and Adolph Reed and Preston Smith (Labor Party). For a representative faculty union campaign, check out the American Federation of Teachers' Faculty and College Excellence campaign. For an attempt to get a discussion of endowment disparities started, see Bill Benzon (The Valve). For my spring 2006 debate with a privatization advocate, go to Objectivist v. Constructivist v. Theist. For further background and resources, check out Workplace, the Workplace blog, and The Rouge Forum.
For initial reactions to the NYSCHE's preliminary report, check out the statement by the Professional Staff Caucus (CUNY), the press release from United University Professions (SUNY), Craig Smith and Barbara McKenna at FACE Talk, CUNY Chancellor Matthew Goldstein, and Stanley Fish in The New York Times.
More coming!
[Update 1/10/08: Here's the relevant summary of Gov. Spitzer's State of the State address.]
For representative arguments that public higher education should be free, check out Marc Bousquet (How the University Works) and Adolph Reed and Preston Smith (Labor Party). For a representative faculty union campaign, check out the American Federation of Teachers' Faculty and College Excellence campaign. For an attempt to get a discussion of endowment disparities started, see Bill Benzon (The Valve). For my spring 2006 debate with a privatization advocate, go to Objectivist v. Constructivist v. Theist. For further background and resources, check out Workplace, the Workplace blog, and The Rouge Forum.
For initial reactions to the NYSCHE's preliminary report, check out the statement by the Professional Staff Caucus (CUNY), the press release from United University Professions (SUNY), Craig Smith and Barbara McKenna at FACE Talk, CUNY Chancellor Matthew Goldstein, and Stanley Fish in The New York Times.
More coming!
[Update 1/10/08: Here's the relevant summary of Gov. Spitzer's State of the State address.]
Monday, December 10, 2007
How the University Works
Do yourself a favor and get Marc Bousquet's How the University Works--and of course visit his book's blog regularly. The journal he founded and I edited for awhile is doing just fine without us--check out the latest issue and back issues over at Workplace.
This academic labor moment has been brought to you by the letter W.
This academic labor moment has been brought to you by the letter W.
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