Giving passion the heave ho

What do I want to be when I grow up? Should I apply for that job or not?

What if higher ed is my purpose and I won’t let myself be excited or passionate because I think I am supposed to want something else? Like a non-profit job or something more cause-y? (Survivor guilt is real.)

Passion. Blerg. That nebulous gold standard that higher ed professionals think is a prerequisite to advancement, success, and fulfillment.

Usually, I am able to rein myself in and talk myself down from the passion precipice. Some days it takes longer than others. Thankfully, yesterday was an easier day. Because deep down, when I shut out the noise, here is what I know to be true.

You can be good at something and not have it be your passion.

I know plenty of colleagues who aren’t passionate. They are professional, timely, honest, committed, organized, focused. They come to work every day. They do good work. Then, they go home and live their lives. Wake up. Repeat. And really, working on a college campus isn’t such a bad place to not be passionate! Most campuses are beautiful. Here in the Midwest I get to witness the changing seasons. I work with young people who challenge me. Higher ed is relatively stable. I am fortunate to have health insurance and retirement benefits, and vacation.

What does passion even mean? Who says? When did passion become the measuring stick of higher ed professionalism? Who makes all these silly rules and why do we believe them? I am calling your bluff, higher ed.

In his pithy and profound book, Let your life speak, Parker Palmer wrote:

“Trying to live some else’s life, or to live by an abstract norm, will invariably fail- and may even do great damage.”

Abstract norm (passion). Great damage (self-doubt, survivor guilt, fear, anger, self-loathing).

What if I get a new job and hate it? What if I get a new job and don’t hate it but still do good work? There is no passion switch. It’s not like some magical position will be created just for me (or you) and then all of sudden I’ll wake up and say, “Now I am passionate!” One of the priests from our parish, Fr. Joe, used to say, “You don’t do one thing once and then say, Oh, now I am holy! It’s a process!”

I am choosing to give passion the old heave-ho and flipping the script for myself. I will no longer let other’s expectations of my passion dictate what I apply for (or not), how I choose to operate on a day-to-day basis (or not), and how I choose to see myself.

Passion and work are not mutually exclusive. You can have one without the other. Passion doesn’t automatically make you effective. You can be good at something and not have it be your passion. I think that is threatening to some people in higher ed. It confuses them because they drank the passion propaganda and believe that they have to be passionate to fit in, to be effective, to be professional, to be liked and relatable.

I wrote this post last night and didn’t hit publish because the passion demons (kind of like dementors in Harry Potter) got a hold of me and I chickened out. “What if some future employer finds my blog (doubtful) and they don’t like what I wrote and then they don’t hire me?” Yeah, what if? There is nothing I can do about that. And, if we hire people for passion instead of efficacy, efficiency, professionalism, relationship-building capacity, potential, education, and experience…well, then, I think our profession has bigger problems than lack of passion.

We’re confusing presence with actual work

The latest buzzword in student affairs seems to be executive presence. In short, it means gravitas. Can you command a room and inspire confidence in others?

Executive presence can be coached. It can be taught. It can be faked.

The problem with ideas like presence is that they take on a life of their own, like a runaway freight train. They have momentum but lack purpose and direction. Who defines it? Who enforces it? And when? Does it apply to everyone? Or just candidates in a job search? Only new professionals and not mid or senior level people? Executive presence, IMO, is becoming about cis-gender, hetero-normative speech and dress, with little regard for individual behavior, intent, and impact.

Should we all have presence? Maybe. But I fear that we will continue to hire, promote, and sponsor all the same people. People who dress, and think, and act like us. That is not only completely counter to our supposed commitment to social justice and the common good, but it’s also dangerous. It leads to group think. It leads to heroes and zeroes. It makes us look silly. It will make us obsolete.

And this rhetoric is taking us away from the real work of our profession- students– and making it about us as “professionals.” We are becoming self-focused instead of getting back to our roots of service for and about others. When did we make our work about ourselves???

Presence is about perception, not performance.

Actual work cannot be faked.

Service to others cannot be faked.

I fear we have lost our way. I am becoming less and less enamored of this “profession” and less and less willing to tolerate these nuances of our profession’s “culture.” Twitter and blogging have given everyone a platform and a microphone, which in turn makes some people think they’re entitled to expert status. The proliferation of people and the veracity with which they speak is having the opposite effect- at least for me. It feels like noisy fluff.

I see people in our circles being put on impossibly high pedestals only to be cut down and shamed later for one mistake or one misplaced comment. And, those doing the shaming were the same people who made the pedestal. I see people being idolized for their clothes, while we turn a blind eye to their behavior.

Our profession used to be about impacting others. Our metric used to be impact on the students. I was (am) a successful administrator if the people/club/organization/individual with whom I have worked is/are better after their time with me than they were before. With your behavior did you make a positive impact?

If we all get back to our roots (myself included) and over ourselves, our work will speak for itself and presence will naturally follow. “Go to work today and do something for someone else.”

Gratitude fuels generosity

Last night I went to bed exhausted. I slept for nine hours and woke up still tired. I was thrilled because it was the good exhausted. I was exhausted because I had an absolute blast facilitating an MBTI session about “Managing Workplace Personalities” for the Women’s Networking Association on my campus. I absolutely love the MBTI and believe that it is a wonderful tool that can help people understand themselves and their teams better. When facilitated well, it can be an empowering experience that gives people courage to have tough conversations with themselves and others. Why wouldn’t I want to share that with others? Especially other women on my own campus? I presented twice, for 90 minutes each time. It was exhilarating. And for me as an introvert, completely draining.

In the five hours between sessions I went back to my office and caught up on “work.” I also happened to watch this Simon Sinek presentation on the importance of understanding people. I am unabashedly developing a hard-core crush on Sinek. It’s no secret that I think student affairs has an authenticity problem. I tweeted these gems from Sinek’s speech:

Authenticity. You have to say and DO the things you believe because they are symbols of who you ARE.

Organizations should actually DO the things they say they BELIEVE. If they do, then they will attract like-mined people.

As I sat there watching, I was starting to get up on my “yeah, student affairs stinks! And we need to do it better!” high horse. (I do think that we can do it better, but I am culpable in that change.) Then, towards the end of his presentation, Sinek said:

Generosity is not an equation. Generosity is doing something for someone without expecting anything in return. Ever.

I am part of the “we” that needs to do and be better. I am the “we.” I went back to the afternoon session with Sinek’s words in my heart and I poured myself into that presentation. It was more fun and more engaging than the morning session. It was fun. It was tiring fun.

It was fun because I did something generous. I donated hours of my time and my knowledge of the MBTI and I shared it with others. It was fun because I appreciated the women who took time from their days to learn and engage and share with others. All day today I’ve asked myself when and why I stopped being generous. When was the last time I did something just because? When was the last time I volunteered or donated my time/talents just because? The truth is, before yesterday, the last time I volunteered was too long ago.

Why?

This winter I was exhausted, but not the good exhausted. I was exhausted because I was bored. So, so bored. And I was bored because I made it all about me. My thoughts were selfish and self-destructive: “I am underpaid and unappreciated. I could be doing something so much better with people who appreciate me.” Blah, blah, blah. When I take a step back and really examine my life, very little of this is true. I am underpaid for my degree and experience, but I am not underpaid for my current role. I have a 6 mile commute that takes 12 minutes. I have awesome co-workers whom I like and trust. I have a flexible schedule 3/5 days of the week that allows me to pick-up/drop-off my sons at school. So, really?!!?! Pretty darn great.

I stopped being generous because I forgot to be grateful. I spent waaaayyyy too much time thinking about myself and all the things I thought I wasn’t getting. I was focused on perceived deficits and past hurts instead of gifts that are right in front of my face.

When I do something for someone without any expectation in return, I feel good about myself. When I feel good about myself, my eyes are more open to all that is good in my life. When I feel good about my life, I feel and act grateful. Gratitude fuels generosity. Generosity perpetuates gratitude. And on and on and on.

I am going to work harder at being grateful so I can be more generous. I hope you’ll join me. It’s going to be fun!