Basking in the murkiness of the middle

This is the fourth #SAMid guest post. Thanks to my fellow #Jesuiteducated Boston College grad & student affairs colleague, Jeff Pelletier for sharing his thoughts.

Every year, the Ohio Union hosts a summit sponsored by GE called Leading from the Middle. It brings mid-market businesses together to learn from each other. The size and scope of companies represented is vast. They come from all over the country, cover a range of products and services, and no two are the same size. They’re not necessarily the small business/Mom & Pop operation, but neither are they a huge (inter)national conglomerate.

It occurred to me during their last conference, that this event mirrors the ongoing conversation in our field about what it means to be a mid-level professional, or at a mid-career point. Over the years I’ve seen and been part of those conversations, asking how we define mid-level, at what point we’re considered mid-career, and what qualifies us for either.

If you asked most mid-level professionals why we ‘classify’ ourselves as such, we’d say we don’t fit neatly into a new professional label, and some of us may be resistant to the senior professional moniker, especially if our hair hasn’t started betraying our age by changing color! But like the conversations about title, I always ask, “does it really matter all that much?” I’d be doing the same kind of work if I was an assistant director, associate director, or a director. For what it’s worth, currently my business card sports the one in the middle. If I were at a different institution, doing the same job, I would not be surprised if I had a different title to go with it. So I try not to worry too much about what people call me, or what box I check, as Chelsea described earlier in this series.

I recognize the need for these categories in the natural course of our work. Boxes and labels sometimes help us make determinations on what we’re doing, and more important, what we’re doing next. But sometimes we spend a lot of time hand-wringing over what to call ourselves, rather than just doing the work that’s in front of us. Some of that pressure comes from the need, intrinsically and externally, to meet a pre-defined standard. If we know the minimum qualifications for a job posting, we know at a glance whether we meet those qualifications, or if our application is a stretch. For many, there is pressure to advance in the field, which means focusing on the process to get there, rather than focusing on doing some good here. This is not unique to the mid-level population either – I could write a companion post for new professionals and senior professionals. My observation is this categorization and “what’s next” mentality is most pronounced for those us who feel mired in the middle. It’s easy to advise mid-level and mid-career professional to bask in that murkiness, it’s another to actually do that.

Here’s why I think that, ultimately, it doesn’t really matter. As an associate director, I report to a director, and have a senior coordinator reporting to me. All three of us have Master’s degrees in higher education, and work in the field of union events and operations. I would consider all of us to be mid-career, albeit it at different points in the mid-career range. I think we’d all call ourselves mid-level professionals as well, again with a bit of “it’s all relative.” So we’re three mid-career, mid-level professionals, all in a reporting line to one another, all doing very different work. Side note: we’re all pretty good at what we do, if we do say so ourselves! We teach each other constantly, we learn from one another, and we have the benefit of learning from those around us. Side note 2: copy that last sentence in companion post for new and senior-level professionals.

In all honesty, being mid-level or mid-career is a pretty great place to be. I have the opportunity to develop newer professionals and help them figure out who they want to be, in or out of our field. I have a comfortable amount of direct student interaction, which is often a lament for professionals as they advance in the field. I have aspirations to reach higher in my current line of work. That aspiration comes from my own personal motivations (I’m secure in understanding my purpose in the field, which makes me a bit of an anomaly here in the middle), and it is fueled in part by the encouragement of those around me to do more. I also know my next position could very well be one I retire from, and it could be perceived as mid-level to others. I’m at peace with that, again because I know why I’m here.

There’s a lot of middle ground to try to fill, so my best advice to colleagues in the space between (hat-tip to Dave Matthews) is to do your best work, be your best self, and spend less time trying to define what The Middle actually means. I own that I am in a different place than most mid-level/mid-career people might be, but my hope is to show there is some real value to being where we are, regardless of whether we want to stay here or keep moving.

Jeff Pelletier

Jeff is an Associate Director with the office of Student Life at The Ohio State University, overseeing building operations in the Ohio Union. He earned a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science from Boston College, a master’s in Higher Education and Student Affairs from Ohio State, and a master’s in Business Operational Excellence, also from Ohio State. He has been a volunteer for the Association of College Unions International (ACUI) since 2003, most recently on the Board of Trustees. Jeff is active on social media, developing his digital identity alongside students, colleagues, and mentors who haven’t yet muted his posts and updates. Jeff is often seen running the streets of Columbus, or sampling the latest offerings from his favorite craft brewers.

Losing Trust: From staff support to helicopter parenting

This post was written for the Student Affairs Collective blog series #SAEvolve. You can check it (and all kinds of other great stuff) out here: The Student Affairs Collective

We knew the parental tide was coming. And now it’s here.

My career in higher education began in 1999 when I took my first job as a residence life coordinator (RLC) at a small, private college in the Mid-West. At 24 years old, I supervised a staff of 11, six buildings housing 300+ students and allocated the budgets for each one. The majority of that money came from students and their parents. At the time, I didn’t bat an eye at the level of responsibility I was given. No one else did either. I was given an extraordinary amount of autonomy and much was expected of me. Looking back on it now, I am struck by two things. One, I am stunned that this level of responsibility was entrusted to someone so young and inexperienced. And two, I cannot believe that students and their parents shelled out so much money to the institution and then walked away to let the staff do our jobs. That’s how it was then.

In my three years as a RLC, I had one conversation with a parent. It was opening day, my first year. A father gently pulled me aside and introduced himself. His daughter was living on the first floor of the building. She was blind and deaf in one ear. He wanted to explain to me that she had an aide. He introduced me to his daughter and her aide and explained what her role was. The aide had a key to the room, helped the student dress, navigate the dining hall, attended classes with her, etc. etc. He also asked me what my staff and I were going to do to meet her needs. I am sure I stumbled through my answer and feebly assured him that we would do our best to be helpful. I never heard from or saw him again until move-out day.

My second position in higher education was as an Assistant Director of Student Activities. At that institution the VPSA successfully lobbied for a quadruple increase in the student activity fee; my programming staff and I were given 50% of that to establish campus traditions and late night programming. The increased monies allowed us to improve the weekend campus culture.The only parent contact I had was in the form of thank you notes.

I have worked as an academic advisor for almost four years. I get to work with compassionate, smart, hard-working students who aspire to be nurses. For the most part, I enjoy my work. I get to help people. However, there are times when my work is challenging because I have to interact with parents. I have had more parent interaction in the last four years than in all of my previous years combined. In that time I have been:

  • verbally abused by an angry parent (to the point where he hung up on me and then called a week later to apologize);
  • participated in countless meetings with incoming students and their parents;
  • had parents go over my head questioning my decisions (and really it wasn’t my decision, it was someone else’s & I relayed the message).

I actually like talking to parents because on many levels I can relate. In just eight short years my oldest son will go off to college and I will be where they are. I know how much I love my sons and how hard it will be when they leave our nest. On a very basic level, I get it. Parents love their children and want what is best for them. What I don’t get is the short-sighted nature of some of these parents. By fixing things for their children, they have taught them that they cannot be trusted and they have taught their children that campus professionals also cannot be trusted. The disrespect with which parents have spoken to me (and my colleagues) is astounding to me. Their willingness to go right for the jugular- calling the Dean, President, or Board of Trustees, all of which happened this year in our College- has been perpetuated by our profession’s obsession with appearances, our need for tuition dollars, and our willingness to cater to consumer satisfaction.

When hope and fear collide, one of the first and best current student “trends” books, was published in 1998. Parent centers and parent programming started cropping up in the early 2000s. Big questions, worthy dreams by Sharon Daloz Parks was published in 2000 as was Howe and Strauss’ seminal piece on millennials, Millennials rising. Millennials go to college was published eight years ago. We knew this onslaught of helicopter parenting and over involved decision-making was coming.

I knew that I would have to deal with parents eventually. But I underestimated the coming storm and now I find myself wondering how I got here? I recognize that for the most part, it is only about 20% of the population that makes 80% of the work. But, wow! Some of those interactions are exhausting.

I fear this post will make me sound old or worse, jaded. I don’t see myself as either of those. I do feel myself getting frustrated though because I am unprepared to deal with parents, especially angry ones, and there is no sign of this current flood abating anytime soon. While I recognize that my experience doesn’t represent everyone’s, twitter conversations and venting sessions with colleagues tell me one thing:

I am not alone.

Treading water

This is the third guest post in the #SAMid series. Thanks to Sara Ackerson for adding her voice to this important conversation.

Each year, as professional development opportunities come up, I see them: the “Mid-Level” institutes or seminars or conference presentations and I ask myself…”Do I fall into this category?” As Chelsea explained in her previous post, checking a box is just really not that simple. I go on to read the descriptions of these workshops and see the following text…

This curriculum is for those with at least five years of experience as a full-time professional and who are currently responsible for the direction and oversight of one or more functions and supervise one or more professional staff. (NASPA WRC Mid-Level Institute https://www.naspa.org/events/2015-naspa-western-regional-conference)

Or this…

Your responsibilities include staff supervision, budget management experience, and designing and implementing programs. (NASPA Alice Manicur Symposium)

Well, I guess that answers my question. Each day I struggle with how to describe where I fall. I’ve been working, in a professional capacity, as a Higher Education Administrator for ten years; 5 years post-Masters. Ten years is clearly not a new professional. I’ve advanced in my positions as much as humanly possible, given the opportunities provided to me at my various institutions. What I lack is the supervision of full-time professional staff members. This really impacted my last job search as I hoped to move into an Assistant or Associate Director position but didn’t meet that one minimum qualification. How do you get past that? The basic logistics of it, but even deeper, the feeling that you’ve been treading water. I’ve supervised students, chaired committees consisting of professional staff members, and trained faculty. Still, I doubt myself because of sheer lack of opportunities.

Some of this is my own fault. I’ve worked at smaller institutions where the chance to move up just doesn’t exist. You can’t create a position out of thin air (and clicking your heels like Dorothy doesn’t work either). I managed a budget of quite a large amount as an undergraduate student running a student organization, yet I haven’t had that experience as a professional. How does that make sense? I chose to work in Academic Advising, where it is more difficult to move into a higher-level position, than say, in Residence Life.

So what do I do?

I’m constantly looking for opportunities to develop and grow my portfolio. I’m connecting with upper-level administrators at my current institution to network and simply learn from them. This has opened up opportunities to sit on task forces and our upcoming strategic planning committee. I keep my finger on the pulse of our department, our needs, (most important, our students’ needs), and ask about possibilities. This is really all I can do to keep from getting jaded. I’m asking “why?”, “how?”, “what can I do to help you make that happen?” Even more important to me, is that I’m helping other advisors and higher education professionals grow themselves. I’m chairing the Vancouver Advising Committee Professional Development committee which is giving me a unique opportunity to help shape our advisors, and then by default, our students’ experiences.

What opportunities are you grabbing ahold of to add to your own professional development? How are you filling the gaps in your portfolio? How do you get to supervise professionals if you’ve never supervised professionals?

Will I ever stop treading water?

This is me.

This is me.

Sara Ackerson spends her days as an Academic Coordinator in the Carson College of Business at Washington State University Vancouver. In her role, she creates new initiatives to best serve their unique student population and to craft meaningful experiences for all students on campus. In her free time, she is usually found snapping pictures of food, dogs, or other pretty things and hanging out with her two Cavalier King Charles Spaniels. Connect with her on Twitter: @sara_ackerson