Here is the text of the email I sent out to my colleagues this afternoon.

So…

Thus it ends; after two intense, event-filled years, my time as an interim dean here at MHCC is over. As I come closer and closer to seeing this campus in my rear-view mirror one last time, I know that it’s you, the faculty and staff of the Science & Technology Division, I will be missing.

It’s probably too early at this point to have a great deal of meaningful perspective about this entire experience. Questions such as “Jim, what did you learn?” are likely a bit premature. Honestly: I’m still grappling to understand this period of my life.

I began this position on July 14, 2004. For those who were on campus teaching that summer, I got to know you a little sooner than the rest. Although I acquainted myself with everybody’s name during those first few weeks, I literally did not lay eyes on some of you until the morning of September 15th, the first day of In-Service.

As you recall, during that first Division meeting, I gave up a brief autobiography; I described the rather non-linear life’s path that had led to me standing in the front of the room that day. Just weeks earlier, I had lost my position with the Oregon University System and found myself moving to Portland to try this interim-dean gig on for size.

Of course, I wanted to be liked, respected, and trusted. And competent. Nothing has ever defined me so much as a professional as my competence level. So, believe me, I wanted to fail neither you nor me.

A friend of mine asked, at the time, how I was going to possibly manage a group this large? (You were forty full-time faculty members strong at this point, not to mention the part-timers.) My response was that I needed to simply (hah!) attempt to establish one relationship at a time, building what trust I could along the way. I was coming in from the outside, the “dark (university) side,” and had had no community college level administrative experience. And I could only imagine you thinking: “what’s this guy about?!”

My belief was that you had to know me in order to trust me. That was the motivating factor for my little speech that first morning. And, I’ve attempted to be as transparent an individual as I possibly could be during the time I’ve been among you. As I depart, I hope, at least, that you feel you do know me. And I hope that I have earned your trust.

Prior to my time at MHCC, I had never attempted to lead, on a daily basis, a group as large and as diverse as you. As I reflect on my time here in the coming days and months, I know I will wonder what it is I could have done differently – i.e., better – in order to serve your needs. When it came to my relationships with you, I only ever wanted to be a colleague, a coach, a mentor, and a friend. Perhaps a cheerleader. I never really sought out, or identified with, the roles of adversary or “boss.” I suspect you know that I believe in the concept of “team,” which, of course, leads to the idea of “team leader.” If you were to remember me in that role, even in some little way, I would be honored.

I have only the deepest respect for you. I have felt honored and privileged to be among some of the most talented, dedicated, and hard-working educators I have ever known. I will miss you all.

The final (and BIG) announcement I have for you is that, just this afternoon, I accepted an interim position at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg. I will be leading their Liberal Arts and Math & Science faculty for the coming year.

And, one more time: thanks for the wonderful book of Oregon photos, personalized with your written goodbyes. FYI: I love my new Waterman pen!

Bye for now...

Jim@TechnoMonk.us

I have no words for my reality. [ Max Frisch (1911–1991)]

Early on during my time as the science & technology dean (slightly less than two years ago), I called a gathering of the entire division to talk over some old and new business. Now, I guess my personal meeting-leading style is a bit different than other deans who have occupied this position: I remember mentioning things like “we all work too hard,” and that “we should take better care of ourselves,” and that “I’m not willing to die for this job”…that kind of stuff.

I think most would agree that I tend to be honest and direct.

Further, when I speak to things that I am passionate about, I typically have great energy. I’m expressive, I gesture, I emote. In sum, I likely exhibit a collection of personal characteristics and interpersonal communication styles that are different from your stereotypical, geeky, sometimes-reticent, always-in-his-head science guy.

Directly after one of these early meetings, I remember F coming up to me and exclaiming, “you don’t talk like any dean we’ve ever had here before!”

Now, at the time, I wasn’t exceptionally surprised by this remark. In addition to my science education (two degrees, a bachelor's and a master's), I also have a master’s in counseling. In case you didn’t know: this is quite an unusual background. While scientists tend to focus on theories, experiments, findings and ideas, counselors mostly attend to feelings, relationships, and personal growth. These are radically different approaches to knowing the world, and I admit that I probably am a pretty rare bird both in terms of my formal education and how I interact with the universe around me.

It seems, over time though, that the Division faculty here have rather gotten used to me and my non-traditional ways of talking and behaving. However, when it comes to job searching, I’m not so sure my, well, deviance is all that much appreciated. I’ve talked this over with M, and he agrees: when it comes to a job interview, a new group may not quite know what to make of me. “Could this be our new dean ?” [I can imagine some of them ( most of them) wondering...]

This topic has been more on my mind in the last few days due to another, more recent interaction: this time with T. As I was lamenting my lack of a job offer despite my ambitious interviewing schedule of late, I once again mentioned something like “I guess I just don’t talk like a science dean.”

Her comeback was a very quick, energetic, and expressive, “Jim, you don’t talk like anyone I’ve ever known !” She went on to say that, “in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone quite like you!”

Now, I’m positive that these statements were offered in only the most complimentary way. And, I certainly received them as such. Actually, such observations are (to me) pretty flattering. But, the more I’ve thought about the implications of these remarks, the more distraught I have become. In terms of locating a new workplace, how can I possibly find somewhere to “fit” if I am perceived to be so different? Who would want to hire me if I’m not “one of them?”

Well, it’s going to be hard, isn’t it? Actually, it HAS been difficult, and maybe this is one of the primary reasons I am facing unemployment: I am too different, and I really just don’t fit .

The question now is: where do I fit?

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone, I can see all obstacles in my way…
(Johnny Nash)

Back on April 18th, when I was traveling home from the Grays Harbor College interview, while I was on I-205 just north of the Oregon border, a rock violently hit my windshield and chipped it. A couple of weeks later, when I was at my neighborhood gas station, I spent a few minutes at their little “rock-chip repair” station. I’d done this before and the results had been really dramatic. For a few minutes of time, and a call to the insurance company, the rock-chip damage magically became much less noticeable. Well, this time, instead of “healing” the chipped glass, the repair attempt led to a very large crack in my windshield. It was obvious that it was time to get the whole thing replaced. Happily I have great insurance, -$0- deductible on my comprehensive coverage, so my windshield was totally swapped-out for free a few days ago. The glass company even came to the college parking lot and replaced it while I was at work. Pretty slick.

It’s amazing, really. Every day since then has rather been like I’ve just had a car wash. I can see so much better out of this new glass, it’s unbelievable. The old windshield had been chipped and damaged over the last few years, and I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was. I drive down the road and I am able to see everything so much more clearly now.

It’s a lot like my life at the current time, where I believe I am getting a fresh perspective on several elements of my current existence.

For example, I see clearly that:

♥ My health has suffered under the duress of my current work environment. I desperately need time to heal, rest, recharge and recuperate.

♥ I need to take care of my body and soul. This has to be THE priority of my life.

♥ Unemployment wouldn’t be all that bad…well, for a little while at least. I have not really had a break for ages, and even the vacation time I had last summer was quite stress-filled. I would love some time to sit by the pool, walk in the sunshine, read novels, produce some great photographs, and write.

♥ Leaving “my people” behind will be difficult. I have made some significant attachments during the last two years, and now I’ll be going. I am really, really inept at goodbyes, but I will try and do them as gracefully as I possibly can. I know that “love” is a strong word, but there are some of these folks that I have come to love that I must now leave.

♥ As much as I’ve been resisting change, here it comes. I need to embrace it. I have started to do just that by taking a few substantive actions: I have given notice on my house; I have filed for unemployment; I have decided to live in Eugene if I need to be unemployed for a while; and, as a symbol of this new life I am about to start, I even cut my hair. (Way short. My first hairstyle change since 1977.)

♥ As much as I am called to do the work of academic administration, Oregon may not be the place to continue to do this. Or, as much skill and experience as I bring to such work, there are other endeavors that probably suit me as well. [I doubt if I could make a living as an artist at this stage of my life (and I do still have to make a living), but I need to remain unattached as to the outcome of this particular transition.]

♥ I need to soak up the emotional support that I’ve been receiving lately, which has been totally delicious. There are lots of folks in my camp right now, on my side, checking in, expressing their concern and emotional support.

♥ I need to keep breathing and asking the universe: “what’s next?”

It is pretty great to have a new windshield for my life as well!

I went for another job interview today. (Now there’s news!) The location happened to be in the greater metro area, but really, it could have been anyplace. It was a scheduled one-hour session with a screening committee, for a vice presidency position at a community college.

I showed up early to the Human Resources office, only to be informed that the interview was actually located in a totally different part of campus (driving distance away). After attempting to give me directions (although early to show up at HR, I was now going to be late for the interview), one staff member agreed to ride with me and show me where the committee was meeting.

The chair of the committee was standing in the hallway: waiting not only for me, but for a committee member who had disappeared. After a few minutes he announced we were ready. He led me into the room, and I found the “hot seat” easily. Everyone said their name and area, and the chair immediately said “[some name] has the first question” – and she proceeded to read it. No putting the candidate at ease, no explanation of the process, no nothing. Just boom: the first question.

Now, I had spent some serious time today researching this place. They have problems. The faculty in the last week voted “no confidence” in the president. A consulting firm has been doing survey and interview work on campus to prepare a status report for the Board, to be delivered on June 26th. The local newspaper has reported that a very long list of high-level administrators (the names were given, and I know some of them) have left since this president has taken over. A recent editorial identifies him as “controlling, egocentric, power hungry and suspicious.”

OK: so the first question was something about “issues and challenges of faculty.” (Note: they just jumped right into content, there was no obvious question on the list of fifteen actually designed to solicit information about me. It appeared that they had structured quite an academic exercise.) I started by saying that I had hoped to have a dialog with them today. Given the question about “issues and challenges,” I said that I knew the college had them, but I wanted to have a discussion about what was going on there on campus. I stated that I believed they might learn a little bit about what I know in this rigid question/answer format, but not who I am and what I could bring to the college during these troubled times. I was interrupted and informed that they had a process to follow. I said that given the current issues and challenges of the college, I had at least an hour’s worth of questions of them. I was informed that we had 50 minutes total.

I respectfully withdrew my candidacy and drove home.

How do I best say goodbye?

This is the question that tumbles around in my brain as I prepare to convene the faculty and staff of the Science & Technology Division one last time.

Tomorrow afternoon I will gather the group together, do the routine business, then have a little chat with them all about my imminent departure.

I started to get to know everybody on the morning of September 15, 2004, during the first Division meeting I led. During my “introductory message” (that’s what I had listed on the agenda for the meeting), I pretty much gave them the Reader’s Digest version of my biography and how it was that I came to be standing in front of the room that day. I outlined the long and winding road of my life’s path, and I hope it made some sense how a person (me) could have earned degrees in chemistry, counseling, and higher education administration. And, how (weirdly) I had also worked a few years as a professional photographer.

I was hopeful, too, that maybe, just maybe, I was able to communicate that I had enough training, skills and experience to lead this large academic unit (even though I had never done the job before).

At any rate, I wanted to get to know them, starting by having them know me. My initial goal was to build relationships and trust.

Although I have had some up and down times here, my assessment is that I have led the division well. Certainly, last year at this time, when administrator evaluation forms were completed and then tabulated by our research office, just about everybody agreed that I was doing ok. In fact, many were downright enthusiastic about my efforts. I was humbled. Honored. Touched.

So, the time has come to publicly acknowledge that I will be moving on. It will be particularly difficult for me to report, since I don't know where I’ll be moving to. I had been hoping that my departure would be under different circumstances: maybe that I’d taken a position as a vice president someplace. Ah, but such is not the case.

It’s looking increasingly likely that I’ll be unemployed for a time...a state of affairs I had really wanted to avoid!

Maybe I’ll be able to share some more of my personal story. Or maybe not. I don’t know how choked up I might get. Let’s see what happens tomorrow...

Soundtrack Suggestion

Here comes the sun
here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it’s all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say it’s all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it’s all right
It’s all right

(“Here Comes the Sun” – George Harrison)