student affairs

Losing Trust: From staff support to helicopter parenting

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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

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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

Where do you see yourself in 5 or 10 years?

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This is the second post in the #SAMid series. Jason Meier shares his thoughts about answering the ever-present “what’s next” questions. Thank you, Jason.

When you’re preparing for your first job out of grad school, well-meaning professionals will tell you to expect this question –

Where do you see yourself in 5 and 10 years?

As a young, eager grad student, I had great answers for this question. In five years, I would be working at a large state institution overseeing the student activities board (check!). In ten years, I would be Director of Student Activities at a school on the east coast (check!).

Now, almost five years into my job as Director of Student Activities at a small, private institution in downtown Boston, I’m vexed. I did what I said I wanted to do. But that’s the problem. I did exactly what I wanted to do, but sometimes I feel others didn’t let me enjoy it.

  • Day one in my current position people started asking me about what comes next.
  • Day one in my current position people started asking me when/where I’d start working on my Ph.D.
  • Day one in my current position people started asking me if I wanted to become a Dean or even a President of a college.

The more I think about this, the sadder this becomes. How could I ever enjoy the fruits of reaching my own professional goals when people wanted to know what would come next?

That, of course, leads me to a series of questions:

  • Why do we place so much pressure on professionals to constantly be moving up?
  • Why do we assume that everyone needs or wants a Ph.D?
  • Why do we assume that everyone wants to be a Senior Student Affairs Officer?

Because we’re trained to push our students to be their best, we push other professionals to constantly achieve. We do it without thought or regard to what those individuals want.

  • Maybe that professional is coming off of a major life change and wants to enjoy their new job. Maybe they need some time to process and digest.
  • Maybe that professional really struggles with taking classes or can’t afford tuition for a Ph.D. Or even more so, maybe that professional sees no added life value for working on a Ph.D.
  • Maybe that professional enjoys the work they are doing currently and has no desire to move elsewhere at this time.

These pressures can manifest in any number of ways. As a professional experiencing these pressures, it makes me question my own judgement. It makes me doubt my own abilities and it makes me doubt my own commitment to the field. I’m not a bad professional for not wanting these things but it can be hard not to feel that way when others give me a look of confusion when I say I like where I am.

  • No one teaches you how to enjoy the position you’ve set out to get.
  • No one teaches you how to reflect on the work behind you.
  • No one teaches to reflect back so you can make your present better, so you can learn from your mistakes and not make them again.
  • No one teaches you to take a breath.

More specifically, no one lets you enjoy the position you’ve set out to get. No one lets you reflect on the work behind you. No one lets you take a breath.

So, I fight. I loudly proclaim my professional intentions and share the joy in my current position. I loudly proclaim my reasons for not pursuing a Ph.D or Ed.D. I loudly proclaim my intent to stay in this professional orbit for as long as possible.

As I sit in the position of being a mid-level pro, I still don’t know what I want.

  • I know that I want to enjoy the position I’ve aspired to achieve without the pressure of keeping an eye out on what comes next.
  • I know I don’t want a terminal degree. I’ve decided to be selfish with my time and my money, instead using that time to explore and enjoy where I’m at and the people I’m around.
  • I know that I don’t want to be a college president. I want to push and challenge from the middle.

I do know I want to let others enjoy the view from the middle. So I challenge you to do the same.

  • Let others celebrate promotions or new positions and to enjoy the challenges that comes with a new position without asking what comes next.
  • Don’t make blanket statements about the importance of terminal degrees for all positions. Not everyone needs or wants a terminal degree.
  • Understand that some people don’t aspire to senior-level positions and don’t judge them for staying in current positions. You may not fully understand their situation.

And most important, enjoy the view.

Jason Meier

Jason Meier is doing his best to enjoy his experience and time Emerson College right now. Located in Boston, Emerson College devotes itself to the study of communication, while bringing innovation to communication and the arts. In his spare time, you can find Jason awkwardly dancing at a concert, exploring the local food scene or hanging out with his cat, Lil’ Poundcake. Continue the conversation with Jason on Twitter at @jasonrobert.