Before being nudged, not-so-gently, into retirement, Dr. Teller had spent the last ten years of his academic career as a community-college dean. The final position lasted for seven, interminably-long and difficult years at a junior college in California’s Bay Area.
Teller had come to believe that the life of an academic dean was: Just. Plain. Fucking. Nuts. The most frequent question that coursed through his brain was “why am I here?” Surely this wasn’t an existence that any truly healthy person would take on – other than from a sense of desperation.
The fact was, though: Teller had been desperate. The offer that ultimately came his way emerged after three-plus years of interim positions and a lifestyle of never-ending job-search. When he lost his state-level higher-education post in Oregon, he had been forced to seek out something else to do with his life. When the opportunity arose to be a college dean, he thought, “why not?” And after two temporary gigs in his home state, the California job seemed to provide him some sense of direction, resolution and permanency.
But while he was quite experienced with, and even amazingly skillful at, managing the highly-political nature of academia, the navigation of community-college campus-level politics turned out to be somewhat akin to living in the “Twilight Zone.” It was as if Rod Serling had come back to provide the script and narration for Teller’s time on this planet.
Of the 112 community colleges in the California community-college system, Teller ended up working at one of the smaller ones. And as it turned out, it had a quite-specific statewide reputation. Not that he knew anything about that when he moved there, of course.
But the reputation was discoverable and, in the end, indisputable: the place was batshit crazy.
To wit:
The collective-bargaining agreement between the faculty and the institution was an absurdly-long and complicated document. It was poorly-written, internally-contradictory, maddeningly-prescriptive, and reflected decades worth of administrative concessions. It served as the college’s Bible. It was, indisputably, batshit crazy.
The Board of Trustees was a self-absorbed, totally-dysfunctional body, prone to micromanagement, lack of boundaries, role confusion, internal strife, senseless speech-making, and meetings that lasted until midnight. Individually, and collectively, they were the very essence of batshit crazy.
The collection of department chairs, a gang that convened monthly, consistently and vigorously attacked anyone unlucky enough to have the title of vice president. They truly believed that the world revolved around them. The group was distinguished by its inability to move any agenda along and famous for its failure to acknowledge (what the rest of the world might call) “reality.” Individually, and collectively, an easy call: batshit crazy.
Overt and covert conflicts between faculty members and administrators were frequent, mean-spirited, and embarrassing for any innocent bystander to witness. The dynamic was full-on batshit crazy.
The door to the vice president’s office was a revolving one, hosting seven different occupants during Teller’s time there. Some were laughably inept. At least two were verbally and/or emotionally abusive. One was middle-twentieth-century sexist. One was certifiably batshit crazy.
Stories of bad behavior by faculty members were legendary, provided a mystical aura to the institution, and wove the fabric of the college’s culture. The campus employed several who had been there for decades and had long ago given up pretending to care about students. Teller believed that a certain percentage of them had substance-abuse or mental-health issues, and assessed this faction to be, unquestionably, batshit crazy.
Still, despite all the evidence in support of its reputation, Teller had not planned on leaving the college when he did. His departure, ultimately, came as a big surprise to him. The interim vice president, who had once been among Teller’s most-trusted allies on campus, had apparently drunk the Kool-Aid too many times. Acting as an agent of the president, she was the one who informed Teller that his time on campus was over.
He was devastated by the betrayal.
When all was said and done, Teller probably should have seen it coming. But he didn’t.
The evidence is there to support the notion that Dr. Teller, himself, had gone native.
In other words: batshit crazy.
Soundtrack Suggestion
Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over But had me believing it was always something that I’d done And I don’t wanna live that way Reading into every word you say You said that you could let it go And I wouldn’t catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know…
You never can tell. About anything, really. Don’t you think life is mostly a matter of random encounters and chances?
Which is a rather odd introduction to a little story of laughter and embarrassment during a time of high stress...
Last Tuesday evening I was attending the monthly meeting of the Board of Trustees of my college. I was there because one of the programs within my area of responsibility was going to be eliminated by action of the Board.
It was all high drama. People wanted to have a say in the decision...and many signed up to offer their personal testimony. Although the action item had originally been placed toward the end of the agenda, it was moved up to the beginning so the Board could take its vote while interested members of the public were still in attendance. The testimony and ensuing discussion took almost three full hours.
I was sitting in the back of the room. The furniture in the peanut-gallery section is notoriously uncomfortable, so I had arrived early to get a chair (and a location) that would suit me best. As the meeting got going, more and more people filled the room until it was a standing-room-only situation.
Ultimately, two young women were standing very close to me. I was very conscious of how tightly we were all packed in, and the high likelihood of encroaching on someone else’s personal space. The room started to get warmer and warmer, but the temperature was just right for me as I was sitting next to a very large (but closed) window – which kept cool the air in my region of the room.
At one point, as one of the speakers was just finishing up, another of the audience members came over to me and wanted to see if the window by me would open. I resisted, saying (quietly), “yes, but even if it does open, I’ll freeze.”
The very attractive (approximately 20-year-old) coed standing right next to me, who had not acknowledged me during the entire proceeding thus far, jumped right in. She put her hand on my shoulder and said (or, more accurately, announced) , “oh, don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.”
I snorted. Giggled way too loudly. And blushed wildly
Another speaker had already taken the microphone. Several people, in a semicircle around us, all turned our way, put their fingers to their lips, and went “shhhhhh!”
My face turned even more red, I’m sure.
When things settled down, I turned to my new, attractive, young friend and said, sincerely, “that was very funny.”
So much, though, for The Dean bringing any sense of Decorum to the room!
Soundtrack Suggestion
I don’t like you But I love you Seems that I’m always Thinkin’ of you Oh, ho, ho, you treat me badly I love you madly You’ve really got a hold on me
I have written here before about the circumstances surrounding my departure from the Oregon University System (OUS) Chancellor’s Office (CO) in 2004. Leaving was entirely involuntary on my part– as it was for everyone who worked in the Office of Academic Affairs. Starting July 2004, that particular unit of the CO ceased to exist.
(Can you imagine a university without an “academic” division?!)
To a person, those of us who were ousted, in what may be termed a “political coup,” have harbored residual feelings about the treatment we received. But I believe that we all still have an overriding, sincere concern for the fate and future of Oregon higher education.
Since that time, there has been little attempt on behalf of the CO to put back together – on any kind of permanent, coherent basis – some of the critical functions that were lost in the “reorganization.”
Well, until recently.
Early last February, an announcement appeared on the OUS website for Assistant Vice Chancellor for Student Success Initiatives. The new position, as described, entails many elements of my previous job, and I was pleased to see the recognition that these activities are important and need tending-to on an ongoing basis. (It only took four years!)
Now, I have not been actively seeking other work, given that I have been hired into a permanent position here in California…and in light of the fact that I have made major life moves and job changes three times in the last four years. But, because I feel that I left the CO with “unfinished business” with regard to my inter-sector work in Oregon, and because I continue to care deeply about the health and welfare of higher education in the state, I submitted an application. The deadline was February 27.
I was ultimately called in late April to set up a time for a phone interview on May 15. And, when the time came, I thought I did well. The screening committee was comprised of four individuals, three of whom I used to work with; one of them I considered a friend. It sure seemed to be a friendly-enough group (as much as you can tell over the phone). And, I don’t see how any other candidate could have had an interview that even mildly resembled mine, given that I had first-hand experience performing many of those exact duties and producing policy documents on the very issues we talked about.
But, then I waited. For almost three weeks. Finally, finally, I received a rejection letter by mail a couple of days ago, impersonally notifying me that they had hired a candidate who more closely matched their needs at this time.
I can only guess what the story is; of course, I’ll never really know. I might only surmise that while I was talking about my unfinished business in Oregon, they were thinking, about me: “been there, done that.”
Sigh. I seem to be oh-so-good at setting myself up for rejection.
And I did it yet again.
Silly, wide-eyed, trusting, me.
Soundtrack Suggestion
If you change your mind, I’m the first in line Honey I’m still free Take a chance on me If you need me, let me know, gonna be around If you’ve got no place to go, if you’re feeling down If you’re all alone when the pretty birds have flown Honey I’m still free Take a chance on me…
When I moved down here to the Bay Area, and accepted a new “permanent” position as an academic dean at the College of Marin, I vowed to not use my work life as fodder for blog material. I just don’t want or need the kind of scrutiny that that kind of reporting might bring.
Not that my day job isn’t worthy of some commentary. Au contraire. For now, though, I’ll continue to leave it to other folks to describe my current workplace…
When you’re down and out, When you’re on the street, When evening falls so hard I will comfort you. I’ll take your part. When darkness comes And pains is all around, Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down.
I know, I know…this blog appears to be languishing. I have to blame it on my job-search life! I’m in the process of preparing for three trips, and this involves quite a collection of chores! The only things I’m writing lately are not all that bloggable. However, if you want to check out a short biographical piece I was asked to create for the Community College of Vermont this week, read on…
Greetings, all! My name is Jim Arnold and I’m a finalist for the Dean of Academic Affairs position here at CCV. I have been asked to provide a short biographical sketch containing information I want the CCV community to know about me. So, here goes…
I have, at various points in my life, been a chemist, a photographer, a counselor, and a college/university administrator. I have always been a student (of life, primarily) and, during some periods, a teacher. Education has always been at the center of my life and one of my most dearly-held values.
I have a fairly diverse academic background, having started out with degrees in chemistry (B.S. from the University of Wisconsin – Eau Claire; M.S. from Oregon State University). After some time working professionally as a chemist, I transitioned my interest in art and photography into a career as a full-time professional photographer. However, I ultimately returned to school, having developed an interest in the helping professions. After earning an M.S. in counseling (also from Oregon State University), I was a counselor & trainer in a job-training/social-service agency and then directed a student support services program in the student affairs division at a small regional university campus in Oregon (a state where I’ve spent most of my adult life). After a couple of years back in higher education, I knew that this is where I was meant to be; I moved to Bloomington, Indiana, to pursue a Ph.D. in higher education administration (at Indiana University). Since receiving that degree, I have been a full-time academic administrator: first for nine years with the Oregon University System Chancellor’s Office (Academic Affairs Division), then, for the last three years, holding appointments as an academic dean at two of Oregon’s community colleges (Dean of Science & Technology at Mt. Hood Community College, and of Math, Science & Liberal Arts at Umpqua Community College).
I’ve served as a part-time instructor in colleges and universities, and as a trainer in social service settings. I have taught general chemistry, organic chemistry, computer applications, communication skills, entrepreneurship principles, job-search and customer-service skills, and research methods. Although I have always enjoyed my time in the classroom, I believe that my true calling is to provide counsel, leadership and advocacy in other ways, particularly as an academic administrator.
I am attracted to CCV and Vermont because of the state’s progressive reputation, a quality that drew me to Oregon a long time ago. Further, I have a desire to find a position that provides the potential for me to make a difference in the lives of students and faculty statewide. I have applied for the position of Dean of Academic Affairs here at CCV because I believe it to be a perfect match for my training, experience and skills. I have been a visible and effective academic leader in Oregon for the last 12 years, working both in central administration for the university system then as a direct supervisor of large and diverse faculty groups on two community college campuses. The Dean of Academic Affairs position here at CCV would allow me to draw upon both the campus and system-wide perspectives I have gained during this time.
I have a long history of being able to bring groups of individuals together who possess competing value systems and interests. I am a team-builder and a leader who not only values but practices effective communication with those I work with. When asked recently about how I “inspire collaboration” within the context of my leadership style, I replied by speaking to these categories:
Involvement. I strive to make each group (program, department, division, college) a “team.” I support an environment where the attitude is “everyone is in this together.” I get team members together, face-to-face, to talk about the direction of the group or organization as well as their areas of concern.
Delegation. In involving others in the work to be done, I delegate responsibility and tasks by asking others for their help. And, once an assignment is handed off, I am available for support, guidance, coaching and/or mentorship as much (or as little) as the individual needs me to be.
Respect. I demonstrate genuine respect for each person, for their talents and abilities, for their diverse viewpoints, and what they offer to their team. I listen.
Caring. I demonstrate, though my actions and words, my caring for each person in the organization. I invite conversation, I pay attention, I encourage, and I cheer-lead.
Trust. I assume that everybody is here to do their best. I trust everyone to do that. I trust that my colleagues are honest with me, as they can trust me to be honest with them.
Support. I lead a department or division or college by offering my support. I am here to help make people’s lives easier, not more complicated.
Communication. I utilize my communication skills, both written and oral, to keep my colleagues informed and up-to-date. As much as possible, I operate on a “no surprises” rule, so that decisions or actions do not take anyone around me off-guard. I aim to make each human interaction one in which I am totally present. I listen carefully to the stories of others. I pay attention to who they are, what they need, and how I can help.
I look forward to meeting as many of you as I can during my short time here in Vermont.
