What the Dean Do?

As I went through the application process for this position, I was heartened--touched, really--by a huge outpouring of support from members of the various departments that I would supervise if I actually got the job.  So many people came up to me to express their sincere appreciation to me for pursuing the job--and not just, as is often the case, because they themselves wouldn't take the job if you paid them!

(Wait, I AM getting paid for this, right?  OK, good.)

No, people seemed to think I would actually be good at the job.  They expressed faith in my managerial abilities, as well as a sense that I am someone who is easy to work with.  And I am!  Easy to work with, that is.  I have always taken an approach to work--whatever job I held--that there is pretty much never a reason to get too worked up about anything.  At a college, for example, no matter how crazy things get, no matter how many additional requirements get dumped on people, the fundamental job remains fairly straightforward: Teach the students.  Everything else really doesn't matter all that much.  Anyway, this fundamentally laconic attitude, I think, was reassuring to the people I work with: They know that I'm not going to get too stressed out, nor am I going to get terribly worked up about "the small stuff."

Absent, however, from all these expressions of faith and encouragement was any clear sense of what I would do as dean.  And then I realized why: Nobody exactly understands just what it is that a dean does!  I mean, we all knew that a dean oversaw the creation of the class schedule and monitored budgets.  And everybody knows about the best part of the dean job: canceling classes!  But there are only so many classes one can cancel.  (Alas!)  And then what?

For the benefit of future generations of mid-level higher-education managers, then, I will attempt to document here the various things that I do in my new decanal position.  First and foremost, I learn!  I have learned, for example, that the adjectival form of the word "dean" is "decanal."  I have learned in my first two days on the job how to fill out forms requesting new classes, changing instructors, and canceling classes--in fact, they're all the same form!!! I have filled out forms requesting that instructors be allowed to teach more than they are supposed to be teaching!  I have filled out forms requesting keys!  I have filled out forms ensuring that people get paid on time!  It's been an exciting start, I can tell you!

At my interview, I was asked about things like my vision for the position.  I didn't mention a neverending succession of forms.  So I guess I got that answer wrong.

Advice to an OLD Teacher: And Now What?

A few months ago, I went to an academic conference.  One of the breakout sessions was an hour-long discussion about why so few faculty aspired to go into administration.  I didn't actually attend this session, as I couldn't comprehend why anyone would need an hour to say, "Well, duh!"  Because, seriously, why would anyone, given a choice, opt for a workweek filled with meetings, bureaucracy, and complaints over the much more innately appealing prospect of hanging out with students, pontificating for several hours a week on a topic that interests you, and having summers off?  It's a fair question.

Nevertheless, last semester, when my own longtime dean announced her retirement, I decided to throw my hat into the ring and apply for her job.  And today, I was informed that I got it.  And now I am answering the obvious question: Why?

Mainly, I want a new challenge.  I enjoy teaching, and I think I'm pretty good at it, but I've been doing it now, in one way or another, for over twenty years.  It's time for something new.  And as much as administration features some unappealing aspects--I dread the meetings that are, I fear, going to become a major part of my life for years to come--administration also, possibly, offers opportunities.  If nothing else, a good administrator can make it easier for good teachers to do a good job.  If nothing else, I hope that becomes part of my legacy.

But, legacies are a long way off.  Tomorrow is day one.  Let the adventure begin!

Less Than Half Mad

According to a test devised by an Oxford professor, Your-Not-So-Humble-Correspondent is 48% psychopathic.  Or something like that.  Specifically, I received a score of 48% on the "psychopathic spectrum."  I guess this means I am closer to completely sane than to stark, raving bonkers--but not by much.

I posted these results on Facebook, commenting half-jokingly that I thought the result sounded a bit low.  Turns out, though, I was right--the score is low: The average result for men is, in fact, 50%.  I am thus less psychopathic than the average man--or less masculine than the average psychopath.  Not sure which is worse.  Women, interestingly, score, on average, 38% on the psychopathic spectrum.

Of course, one can presumably skew the results.  Participants are asked to indicate their level of agreement with each of 11 statements, and, for the most part, the "more psychopathic" answer is fairly obvious.  For example, the test asks participants their level of agreement with statements like, "I would have no problem cheating on my partner if I knew I could get away with it," or "I think it's OK to step over other people to achieve my own ambitions."

It seems fairly obvious that the more one agrees with those statements, the more "psychopathic" one is going to be ranked.  If one wants to be ranked lower, then, one could simply indicate strong disagreement.  The question then, is this: Are men truly more innately psychopathic than women?  More possessed of socially undesirable characteristics?  Or are they just more honest about their shortcomings?  And if so, is being honest about one's psychopathy in and of itself crazy?

So That's Where That Comes From. . . .

The other day, on my drive to work, I happened to glance to my left as I was going through an intersection.  I saw a chicken racing across the street!!  And all I could think was, "Why?"

Update

Hello Sloppists.

Sorry I haven't been around much lately.  Busy times at work.  Possible changes coming down the pike.  Will update as soon as I know more about what will be happening in my life over the next few weeks, months, years, etc.

See you soon!

Inspirationaemia

How bad is it? I'm lying here, watching TV. A commercial for "Flex Seal Clear" comes on. The pitchman enthuses about Flex Seal's ability to prevent water damage by forming watertight seals around cracks. The dramatic demonstration: the bottom of a rowboat is replaced with a sheet of clear plexiglass. Numerous holes are drilled in the plexiglass, and then the whole things is sprayed with Flex Seal Clear. The next thing we see: The pitchman in the boat, happily bobbing on the waves, the seal holding, fish swimming oblivious below...

...And I'm lying there thinking: Hey, THIS could make a good blog post!

Bowled Over

Prior to the kickoff of this year's Rose Bowl, between the Stanford Cardinal (no 's,' please, we're pretentious) and the Michigan State Spartans, the audience stood and both teams took the field to listen reverently to the National Anthem.  As is customary, hats were removed and held over chests.  The players removed their helmets.  I couldn't help but notice the MSU mascot, Sparty (!); he basically looked like this:

You see?  He DID NOT remove his helmet!  Now, you might excuse this by pointing out that, as a Spartan, Sparty maintains his citizenship in a Greek city-state, and thus owes no allegiance to the United States or its traditions.  But this is just plain rude!  A more acceptable explanation is that the helmet is permanently affixed to the rest of the mascot costume, and thus cannot easily be removed independent of the head.  Of course, then, the appropriate thing to do would simply be to remove the entire head.  Unless. . .  IT'S NOT A COSTUME AT ALL!

My point?  Michigan State University is populated by unknown numbers of heavily muscled, felt-skinned warrior mutants!  I pick them to win by 5 1/2.