A couple of weeks ago I attended a professional development workshop that was part of the Council of Colleges of Arts and Sciences (CCAS) annual meeting focusing on “Stepping Up to the Deanship.”  The conference was good, but this session was the highlight for me, and over the days preceding the workshop, I diligently prepared for it as I had been instructed to do:  I found an ad for the type of Dean position I’d like to get someday, I wrote a cover letter for that position, and I reformatted my CV in an administration-focused style.  This exercise was a great opportunity for me to reflect on where I’ve been, what I’ve done and learned, what I will bring to a Deanship, and to articulate these things in a targeted way for the position and institution of interest.  I went into the workshop confident in my growing readiness to be a Dean, sure of the value of the experience I’ve had and am getting now as an Associate Dean, and eager to learn how I could improve my letter and my CV and best position myself to become a Dean in the next 4-5 years.  I left the workshop with important information about CVs, interviews, and the like, but also discouraged about my trajectory; the message was clear that being an Associate Dean is not the way to become a Dean, and in fact, is a disadvantage.  Happily, not everyone agrees with this position, but it was a drag to hear it from the Head Honcho of an Academic Search Firm.

The irony of this message, of course, was that it was delivered to a group of current Associate Deans (ADs), all ready to transfer and grow what we’ve learned as ADs into Deanships.  Admittedly, many of the folks in the room were still very much thinking “in the weeds” rather than thinking “Deanly” thoughts, meaning that, as is typical of ADs, they are consumed with the minutia of running a college and actually making things work relatively smoothly rather than working in broad, visionary, funding-oriented, and more comprehensive strokes as Deans must do.  There were, however, plenty of us who understand that distinction and are ready to get out of the weeds and pursue the vision we have for the leadership of a college, reaching out to connect with other units on campus and external constituencies to build research and curricular programs, develop funding relationships, recruit and retain the best faculty and students, and put a public face on modern higher education.  The message, however, was that being an AD is not the way to step up to such a role-  being a Department Chair or center director is more appealing to search firms and search committees than “in the trenches” experience running, building, and solving problems within and outside of a college as an AD.  It was a sobering and depressing message. 

Sadly, it’s not the first time I’ve heard this message.  An admired colleague and mentor of mine, now a university president, gave me the same advice.   The gist of the numerous conversations I had with him about this topic was the always the same- that the best path to the Deanship is not through an AD position, but through a Department Chair job.   I did hear this piece of advice and took it to heart, first serving as Chair of my Department for a year while the permanent Chair was on sabbatical, after which time he was planning to go back to the faculty and I would be Chair for our typical 3-year term.  He, however, was (is) a great Chair, and decided not to step down after all, leaving me heading back to the faculty having only been Chair for 1 year.  The AD position opened soon after this, and I applied for and got the job.  I very much enjoy my work as an AD, and am learning a great deal about all the departments in the college, management and oversight of curriculum, faculty and staff evaluation, hiring, and promotion, and budget, and, importantly, how to lead and take a complex and ever-changing organization to a higher level.  I feel I am becoming well-prepared to be a Dean as a result of my cumulative faculty and administrative experience, but most of what I know will help me be a dynamic, inclusive, and tough but fair-minded Dean has been learned in my time as an AD. 

Moreover, having worked for 3 different Deans since becoming an AD, I beg to differ with my mentor and the workshop facilitators on their point that being a Department Chair prepares one better to Dean a college than being an AD.  The basic issue here is the size and breadth of the frame people bring to the job of Dean.  Dean #1 had little experience as either a Department Chair or an AD, and he struggled with the scope of the Dean job, including simple issues of management and communication up and down within the college, and building consensus in an efficient, actionable manner.  Dean #2 had been a Department Chair for a number of years, but never an AD or a Dean.  He was benignly non-collaborative in his leadership style, seemingly unaware of budgetary constraints, and lacking in the toughness needed to reward those who were doing well and hold those who were not compassionately accountable.  Dean #3 was a Department Chair initially and then served as an AD, and although he, like everyone, has strengths and challenges, he has assumed the Deanship already able to see the college as a whole entity, appreciate its complexities and the need for frequent, clear communication, and prioritize the necessity of upholding standards and compassionately mentoring faculty and departments to meet those standards.  This combination of skills, I believe, results from his experience as both a Department Chair and, importantly, as an AD, a position in which he had a great deal of responsibility for making aspects of the college, including faculty, budget, research, and curriculum, actually work on a large scale.  This breadth of experience and view is simply not afforded by serving only as a Department Chair.

In summary, reflecting on the workshop has left me with some new challenges.  First, I must carefully and thoroughly articulate the value, depth, and breadth of the sum total of my experience as a faculty member and administrator as I work to step up to the Deanship.  It may be that at many institutions, ADs do not do much, but at my University, the ADs are where “the rubber meets the road” for pretty much everything.  The work is incredibly decentralized to the schools and colleges, and although my position does not manage a group of faculty, I successfully manage numerous complex processes that are critical to the success of the faculty and the college.  I manage these groups and functions in a manner that faces not only up to the Dean and the Chancellors office, but down to the Departments, staff, and faculty in the college.   I have a story to tell about why my experience as an AD is preparing me to think in a “Deanly” way-  the experiences and responsibilities I have are preparing me to take on the authority necessary to move a college forward.  As an AD, I have the responsibility and experience, but not the authority, to be the leader I am ready to be as a Dean.

Change is good. In crisis there is opportunity. Roll with the punches. The glass is half full. Every cloud has a silver lining. Sayings like these are *so* helpful when the wheels come off aren’t they? These days with the tanking economy, lost jobs, reduced income, shrinking 401(k)s and IRAs, not to mention global warming and pine beetles, it’s hard not to feel a bit dark sometimes. Of course, even people like me, whose job it is to be optimistic, skilled at change management, and open to the possibilities afforded by change, have little “freak out” moments- I had one the other day, and you know, it turned out to be a good thing.

I spend the bulk of my time at the University and in my coaching practice being positive, optimistic, and “looking on the bright side” to keep morale up and to keep the train moving along. It is a heartfelt and sincere view for me- anyone who has been in higher education (prone to massive budget cuts) or part of a volatile sector of the economy (i.e. the current mortgage/financial sector) is used to flux and change, and if you can’t keep your chin up during that stuff, you’re in real trouble. However, even for those of us who are pretty good at absorbing change, once in a while the perfect storm hits and we find ourselves, seemingly, standing on loose footing. I’m a big fan of a good cry, and I had one the other night. The cumulative effect of lots of stress at work, my spouse getting downsized, financial worries as we watch out kid’s college funds shrink, and not getting enough sleep through a combination of traveling and stress was a much-needed cry, which, as usual, was essentially like setting the “reset” button on my emotional state and renew my ability to see things more clearly.

Part of the stress of times like this is the feeling of uncertainty that comes with not knowing quite what will happen next. For those of us who really like to have a plan, it can be unsettling, and it can be easy to get sucked into negative thought patterns that make things seem much worse than they are. One of the reasons I love coaching is that the work I do with clients is work I do with myself at times like this; the other night, I took some time to coach myself out of my little freak-out. Just as I support my clients in looking on the bright side, stepping back and taking stock of what is real and what is merely fear generated by thinking of worst-case scenarios, and seeking what is possible, I did the same thing for myself. At the core of this conversation was the reminder that the only thing I can control in this or any other situation is me, so I have to do a couple of things: first, I have to take care of myself, even if this means a little cry now and then, and second, I have to make a difference where I can by keeping my perspective and making changes where I can. The other part of is remembering core values and coming back to those. For me, a core value is a belief that if I work hard and always do my best, then things will be fine, sooner or later, even if at the moment things are a bit scary.

Once the tears were gone and I regained my footing, my vision was clearer and I was again able to see the possibilities opened up by the current state of flux in my life. The holidays will be, thankfully, smaller this year, and focused more on helping others than getting “stuff”- a welcome change. My spouse has the chance to make a career change he’s been wanting to make but never did before, and it’s wonderful to see him excited about the possibilities. We are all more aware of how fortunate we are, even though things have changed a bit, and as we tighten our belts, we are spending more and more time together as a family, even just talking, which is increasingly important in my house as my kids enter the “preteen” stages. The glass is half-full again, and it only cost me a couple of Kleenexes.

When I got out of graduate school, I pretty much knew what I would need to do to be a successful researcher- get lots of grant money, publish a bunch of good papers, and hire functional students and staff. Getting tenure, eventually becoming a full Professor, and having an active and funded research career were clear priorities, but so were having a family and a enjoying a good quality of life with a semblance of balance. I had no idea how to make all of that happen, and I worried about when to start my family in a way that would not kill my academic career. So now that I’ve done it and lived to tell the tale, what are the most important lessons I’ve learned? Well, here are two:

Pay Attention to Politics: Like it or not, it’s essential to become and remain aware of the political winds around you as you plan to start a family and pursue an academic career. Happily, it’s no longer the case that as I was told during the first year of my faculty position, by a female administrator no less, that “Women are either Mommies of Professors, but never both,” but being sensitive to climate and making sure that you find a landing place that truly is supportive of combining family and academia is critical. I was not politically savvy, for example, when I started my postdoc, and although I had hoped to start my family in that position, it turned out that my postdoc mentor, although a mother herself, was inflexible and dictatorial. Ideally, I should have been able to negotiate with her such that I could have started my family and worked on a compromise that met her needs and mine, but it became clear that such a conversation would not be productive. Working with her, I began to learn the hard way about the impact of politics in the academic world. My advice is not to put your life on hold as I did for political reasons, but to be aware and deliberate in coordinating your activities to assure that you do not get into a damaging political situation.

Sometimes, Separation is a Good Thing. In other words, don’t try to merge your parent and professor duties. For example, do not lecture to your classes with your baby in a sling, and avoid bringing children to faculty meetings and other non-social university obligations. Attempts to combine your two worlds in this way, first, assure that you are unable to attend sufficiently to either one, and are unprofessional. On the other hand, depending on the culture in your department, it may be fine to bring your baby from time to time when you are just working in your office (not having office hours or meetings). On a related note, caution should also be exercised when deciding whether or not to bring kids and families to professional meetings; remember that as a pre-tenure faculty member, those conferences are incredibly important for making connections and getting your work known. Can you really do that well with a baby on your hip or a nagging feeling that you need to cut out of a poster session to meet your family at the pool? Sometimes mixing business and pleasure can backfire, so tread carefully.

These are just a couple of the gems of successfully starting a family while effectively navigating the academic world I’ve accumulated in my career. Parenting and being a Professor are growing, dynamic, and creative processes, and require time and discipline. My experience has taught me that keeping these two worlds separated at crucial times and points is essential to succeeding in and having the time to enjoy them both.