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?