It's April, which means it's one of the most hectic, taxing, but rewarding times of the year for student activities folks. It means we're saying thank you to outgoing student organization officers and welcoming new officers with new ideas, tons of energy, and a determination to succeed.
During the first of a five-week officer transition for the student organization I advise, we did your typical expectation-setting activity: where we mutually create expectations for each other. Among the usual expectations they had of me, one stood out from the rest: a request that I always have tissues in my office. Though it slightly surprised me at the time, it made sense. The request came from students who had already spent time crying in my office during beautiful conversations where we processed through emotions, countered vulnerability with support, and realized how to take care of ourselves during times of turmoil. What they didn't know, however, was the other side they don't get to see. Yes, I have tissues in my office for students. But there are those days where I need the tissues too. Advising a programming board requires high energy and lots of positivity. We have a lot of enthusiasm, and it's often go-go-go; you don't make 80 programs happen in 32 weeks without all of this. In just one year, I've shared countless laughs with the students, watched them excel beyond anyone's expectations, overcome challenges together, and grow both as individuals and as an organization. As adviser, a lot of my administrative work goes into helping them navigate policies and procedures. It's no secret that higher education has a plethora of both policies and procedures, and it's not always fun or straightforward to work through those. There are days where I have to disappoint students because of the nature of the beast. I've often had to be the bearer of bad news, letting down a student who is incredibly excited about an idea they've had. A lot of times, the cause of the disappointment is beyond my control. But I've never been one to assign blame, and, even when there is a clear person at fault, I avoid throwing a colleague under the bus when delivering bad news to a student. This means a lot of the disappointment, frustration, confusion, and anger gets directed toward me. It's hard, but it's a part of the job and I've come to terms with it. I stay focused on what I can control and make sure I do everything I can within my power - and I realize there are times when that just isn't enough, and I have to accept that. Every disappointment is a learning experience that I use to better set up students for success the next time. The harder days are those the students really don't see. The days where I have to say goodbye to bright and inspiring colleagues who I'm excited to see take on new adventures but whose departure means the loss of my support system at work. The days where budget cuts strike fear and uncertainty throughout our offices. The days where decisions are made that make my confidence in the values and direction of my workplace waver. There are those days I spend the ten minutes between meetings crying in the bathroom just trying to pull myself together and be the best adviser I can be before walking into the next one-on-one with a student. There are days I feel utterly spent from lying awake all night, anxious thoughts running through my mind. Those days are usually followed by nights of passing out on my couch at 6 p.m. There are days I have no idea what tomorrow holds, days that my individual future is so uncertain that I become physically sick. There are days where I want to just throw in the towel, give up, and let all the issues fall on someone else's plate. But I don't. I can't. There are so many more good days than bad ones; and those are amplified when I choose to stay focused on them. It's easy to become jaded, discouraged, resentful, and burnt out. But, I believe attitude is a choice. We may not be able to control everything, and we're sure as hell not going to agree with everything that happens, but we can control how we react, how we prepare, and how we advocate. We can refuse to perpetuate a culture of gossiping or complaining. We can choose our battles. We can check ourselves and do our best to prevent getting burnt out - after all, it's important we model these habits for our students. I do my job not for my colleagues or even for myself, but rather for the students I serve. And that's what keeps me going. That's what keeps me focused, motivated, sane, and positive. This focus on why I do what I do gets me through any disenchantment or disappointment I may have. Seeing my students succeed and seeing all their hard work pay off keeps me going. Seeing them begin to realize their potential - and develop self-confidence similar to the confidence I've had in them all along - keeps me going. Seeing them receive praise and appreciation for the impact they're making keeps me going. Seeing them learn to work together and achieve goal after goal keeps me going. These things don't just keep me going; they keep me happy and fulfilled. At the end of the day, every day is not easy. But the good days outweigh the bad, and I find comfort in knowing I am giving everything I have and am making at least a teeny impact along the way.
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I spent much of 2017 fighting. Fighting my situation, my circumstances, the world around me.
It wasn't what I planned. I just knew what would make me happy - I'd spent so much time picturing it and working toward it - and nothing had gone as I wanted. Just a few weeks ago, I left my cousin's wedding reception because I couldn't control my gasping and tears. A day filled with, "How's your job?" "Are you seeing anyone?" "How do you like Indy?" left me overcome by emotions. Paired with being around loved ones for the first time in months (in some cases, years!) and feeling extra doses of homesickness, I entered desolation. I wanted to be working at a small, liberal arts university. I wanted to be close to home. I wanted to be working with leadership programs, service initiatives, student government, and orientation. I wanted to be living among the cornfields. And I wanted to be well on my way to building a life outside of work with a partner at my side. Instead, I'm working at a large research institution. I'm four hours from home (I know, it could be MUCH worse). I'm working in programming (if I never planned another event in my life, there would be no love lost). I live among tall buildings and traffic. And I'm the most single I've been in ten years (yep, singleness has levels). Many would say at 23, I never should have expected to have all those things I wanted. Those who know me realize I have some work to do in the patience department. It wasn't what I planned, it wasn't what I wanted. And I fought every step of it. Every good thing - however big or small - I fought. It was easier to cast blame at everything around me than to admit to the good parts. I didn't love my job because I'd "been cheated:" there was so much "nonsense" I had to "deal with," so many other people causing "issues" for me, so many changes leaving me with things "I didn't sign up for." I ended up in the wrong geographical location at the wrong type of college in the wrong functional area because the job search was so "cruel" to me. These were my perceptions. These were the negative thoughts keeping me down. However, the reality is - I am exactly where I need to be, doing exactly what I need to be doing, surrounded by exactly who should be at my side. There were several small things I was coming to love. I just didn't want to accept that I was actually becoming content with a life so far from what I had pictured. These small things hit me like a landslide during my first week back to work after I was away for that wedding I left in tears. I had the best week on the job that I've had in six months. I felt fierce motivation; a quality that had always defined me as a person and as a professional, but had been missing for so long now. I laughed and smiled so much. I swelled with pride, as my students debriefed their semester and we reflected on how far they've come. I swelled with pride as I debriefed my semester and reflected on how far I've come. At work, I've been presented with so many challenges that have truly been opportunities in disguise. I've rarely been one to back down from a challenge - it just took a little longer than usual this time to start climbing those mountains. But with every issue, setback, and disappointment I've faced, I've become better. I've had to rethink, become more strategic, consider how to better motivate others, to lead better, and to stay focused on my purpose. I've learned, and I love learning. Truth be told, I'd be bored without these challenges. I'd be complacent. I'd fail to grow. And that just makes me feel icky. In my personal life, I've been just as challenged. I moved to a city with 864,711 people, with a population of people I knew being less than the number of fingers on a hand. While work helped me meet people, I also knew I needed friends outside of work. As a shy and introverted person, I also knew this would be tough. Yet, I've started to build some really great friendships outside of work. I've had to put myself out there, and it's proved more rewarding than I could have imagined. It's these friends that make Indy feel a little more like home, even when I'm feeling lonely. I'm also developing a strong appreciation for the control I have over my relationships, where the only people in my life are the ones who make it better. Instead of blaming everyone and everything for my unhappiness, I'm taking ownership of my attitude and creating my own happiness. I'm reminding myself to be grateful, because I know I've been granted so many opportunities and privileges that are not afforded to others. I'm developing more self-love, guided by the self-reflection that I am resilient, capable, and compassionate. Overall, 2017 has been the worst and the best all at the same time. But, if there's one thing I've learned from this year, it's been to make the most of where I'm at, to turn the bad things into good things, and to always - ALWAYS - stay focused on my purpose. Over the past five years, this blog has seen many iterations: the site of personal reflections, advertising class assignments, higher ed musings, and more. In June, I promised to shift the focus to my journey as a new Student Affairs Professional.
However, it's taken over six months to finally put together something worth posting. That's not to say there haven't been attempts; my drafts folder is certainly filled with partially written prose. There have been moments of elation that sent my fingers flying across the keyboard, moments of frustration and outrage that made me remind myself to be careful what I post to the Internet, and moments of such sadness that words wouldn't come. So, after six months of a "new life" and as 2017 comes to an end, I guess it's only appropriate to share it all: the highs and the lows, the roller coaster I've ridden for 365 days. The beginning of January found me looking forward to finishing grad school and securing a job in student affairs. The discouragement of the search started almost immediately, as I struggled to find jobs that matched what I wanted to do. Throughout 60 different cover letters and countless interviews, I felt beaten up and broken down. Rejection after rejection, paired with people in my personal life telling me I wasn't good enough, brought my self-esteem to an all-time low. On a class trip in May, I sat in a residence hall room in Atlanta ugly-crying, snot bubbles and all. I was convinced I wouldn't get a job, had made a mistake with career choices, and had ruined my chances of ever having a career I would love. Less than a week later, the job offer came for a position that had piqued my interest more and more at each step of the application process. It couldn't be any more different than what I had thought I had wanted, but it was the only one that had me leaving my on-campus interview in true, genuine smiles. Not only did the job seem promising, but its location placed me in the same place as the boyfriend, the only guy who I've ever considered when making big-time life decisions, the only guy I ever thought would be the "last" guy. Just under two weeks before I moved to Indy to start the gig, my world was rocked when I was kicked to the curb. I had no idea how to cope with that final strand of rejection and went days without eating, spilling tears after tears. The worst part of it all? I still ended up living with the guy for the first month I was working in Indy (go ahead, have your laughs - everyone else has). I was beyond scared. I was moving to a brand new city, where the only person I knew was the person who basically told me they no longer wanted to know me. I was stepping so far out of my comfort zone in a big city, in a job I wasn't sure I could do, at a large university in an even larger university system. I had always been more of the "big fish in a little sea," and appreciated the comfort and lack of complexity afforded by such situations. I started the gig with so many personal distractions that left me incapable of fully appreciating what otherwise would have excited and enthused me. I was thrown in head first, and quickly came to feel like I was over my head. The learning curve was the biggest I've yet faced. Rather than hitting the ground running, I felt like someone had dropped me onto a treadmill going at 10mph; I felt like I had face planted, tried to get up, tripped, and gotten thrown from the treadmill. But pretty soon, work became so overwhelming that I lost the time to think about anything outside of it. Which, of course became its own problem. In those first few months in my position, tears flowed pretty freely. I wish I could say they were confined to my office, but my supportive colleagues would know that's not the truth. Thank you, God, for these support systems that got me through those first few months. Students arrived as the fall semester began, and things finally started looking up. I was reignited with my purpose for my career, and I finally started "coming into my own." Even in just these few short months, the students have already left a long-lasting impact on my life. I'm supposed to be advising them and spurring their development, but I know they've already impacted me more than I could ever hope to impact them. Work still has plenty of challenges, with curveballs constantly being thrown my way, but I'm learning to appreciate the good, to not sweat the bad, and to "bloom where I was planted" (thanks, Sam). As I settled in at work, I knew I needed to do some work in my personal life. While my colleagues are great, I needed a life separate from them. And while I've been blessed with incredible friends from former phases of my life, I knew I also needed to start making progress on building a new life in my new city. Making friends as an "adult" is hard; the time, effort, and courage needed is so much more than when I was a student. Being shy and introverted and enjoying my personal down time doesn't make it any easier either. But, I've continued to put myself out there. Less than a month in the city, I attended an event of people with common interests. Walking into a room of 200+ strangers was so far out of my comfort zone, but I walked out with several new friends. I also happened to walk out with two dates, which resulted in me realizing I was soooo not ready for that sort of thing at that time. I joined a volleyball league, and made some really great friends that left me looking forward to every Tuesday night. My new friends introduced me to their friends, and I've seen my relationships expand further and further throughout the city. Six months of living here, and I can honestly say I've formed relationships that make the "big" city feel just a little bit smaller. It's the last of all this of which I'm most proud when thinking about 2017. I felt down in the dumps for most of the year, even though there was plenty to celebrate: graduating with my Master's, finishing school with a lifetime 4.0 GPA, securing a job, becoming fully financially independent, having a kick ass first semester of work, and more. But building these friendships has been my favorite part of 2017. With so many rejections, I could have given up and spent all my time sitting at home or just diving into my work. But I've continued to put effort into building the personal life I want - something that does not come easily to me. I'm now surrounded by people that bring positivity to my life. And I've got friends who make this new city feel like a new home. So, 2017, thank you for all the trials and tribulations, the big and small wins, the new people, and the continued quest for building a life I love. You might have been a rough one, but I'm glad we're ending on a good note. Just a year ago, I was wrapping up a full-time internship with the Vice President for Student Affairs at Bradley University. It was a tough place to leave; as my undergraduate home and the place of my first post-baccalaureate gig, Bradley will always hold a special place in my heart. I still remember cleaning out my office on June 24th, and walking across campus sobbing and gasping as I went to turn in my key. Goodbyes don't come easily for me.
I'm now in a bit of a similar boat. Another great experience has come to an end, as I'm wrapping up my time at Ball State. A graduate assistantship that challenged me in entirely new ways, courses that engaged me (and some that absolutely did not), and cohort mates who quickly became friends make for another tough goodbye. As I reflect on this experience and look to my next adventure as the Coordinator for Student Programs and Promotions at IUPUI, I came across something I wrote in a blog when leaving Bradley: "As I leave, it is my hope that, while I was stumbling through the real world as an entirely unqualified individual, I left some positivity in my wake." Once again, this rings true with this departure. I'm not looking to leave behind any grandiose accomplishments. Rather, I hope I touched the lives of my students, my peers, my colleagues, and my professors in small, positive ways that will linger long beyond my move from Muncie. Stumbling is a wonderful thing. It seems to be how I've always navigated life. While some peers have been steering their own ship full force ahead toward their goals, I have wandered, I have adventured, and I have stumbled. And now, I'm excited to keep on stumbling forward with a new job, a new city, and a new home. This website, this blog, has served many different purposes. It started as a blog for one of my freshman advertising courses during undergrad. The next semester, it became a portfolio of my video and web design projects for a couple of my interactive media classes. It's been a digital portfolio of work to help land me internships, it's been the site of blogs for a multitude of classes (professors really enjoy assigning blogs!), and it's also been a place to reflect and share thoughts almost as if it were a diary.
Now, with my formal education coming to a close for the immediate future, it is unlikely this blog will feature anymore class-related posts. As I veered from the artsy career path a few years ago, the formal videos and designs and websites and paintings have been rare for quite some time. And, seeing as I now have a full-time job I intend to keep for a few years, I won't really be using this site to land me anymore job offers. So, at long last, this site will become a hobby. Blog entries will be about whatever the hell is on my mind. And, if I were to get ambitious for some reason, that "Personal Work" tab may actually be updated. Maybe I'll start a side hustle and start selling things on here (yeah, I'm smirking at the thought of that too). But, whatever it becomes, it will finally be authentically me. While reviewing this week's readings, I was struck with many ideas for reaction posts. I certainly wanted to reflect on and weigh in on the concept of tenure. The slight aside made about students' calls for their professors and teaching assistants to speak "proper English" could launch me into more than a 500 word post. Structures of funding - private and governmental - of higher education sparked many thoughts in my mind. But when it came down to it, I realized I wanted to write about the subjectivity of the book by Kolodny.
I enjoy reading a well-articulated, backed-up persuasive essay. As a word nerd and a lover of writing, I enjoy the crafting of such essays. But I struggle when such works do not acknowledge or seek to understand other perspectives. With the way Kolodny wrote this book, it is easy to adopt her assertions as unwavering truth and develop incredulous feelings toward any conflicting ideas. She paints a very beautiful one-sided picture, but it does not sit well with me. In any situation like this, I grow frustrated. I maintain a strong belief that people do not, in general, act irrationally. The beliefs they have, the values they maintain, and the behaviors they enact can usually be explained. Although there can be significant issues in the explanation for such beliefs, values, and behaviors, understanding the reasoning behind them is the best way to help change them - in my opinion. This is what worries me about Kolodny's book. Because ideas that conflict her own are so negatively portrayed, readers may be discouraged from trying to seek out the reasoning behind these ideas. Those who are enraged by such practices and principles that seem to make little sense may want to affect change in these areas, but it is so hard to do so without an understanding of them. In short, I think Kolodny's book fuels polarity much more than it presents actionable recommendations for improving higher education. I would be hypocritical, however, if I simply made this claim and left it at that. I do not discount Kolodny's research, ideas, and assertions; in fact, most of Kolodny's claims are ones I agree with, promote, and try to share with others. I appreciate that her book has made me spend more time considering other perspectives as she presents them as being irrational. Additionally, it has made me take greater stock of what I believe and the reasons behind these beliefs. "The challenge for policy-makers and the general public is to resist the impulse to force colleges and universities into substituting the kind of rote training that technology can cheaply supply for the more expensive education that teaches thinking and analytic skills, values, and an understanding of complex relationships, which the learned professor in the classroom can facilitate" (Kolodny, 1998, p. 36).
"The administrative bloat build over the last 20 years could be decreased to achieve flatter organizations and less expenditure. This goal could be accompanied with refocused attention on the fundamental priorities of higher education institutions" (Manning, 2013, p. 205). "The competition established between and among higher education institutions has built an arms race where all lose. The race to build the best amenities and facilities has distracted the attention of students, faculty, and administrators alike from the fundamental purposes of higher education: the achievement of a high quality education" (Manning, 2013, p. 205). The themes of increasing costs and the need for higher education finance reform rang throughout both readings this week. We all know financing college is a significant concern right now and something that needs to see some change to increase both access and success. But these quotes alone reveal many of the debates surrounding such a discussion. To begin, there is debate over the purpose of higher education. Is it to learn as much as you can in a classroom? Is it to be trained for a specific job or career? Is it to become a well-rounded individual capable of existing effectively in a diverse, globalized society? (Is it obvious which of these I most support?!) Without agreement on a purpose, administrators may not come together to make decisions about finance reform. Those who believe in a purely academic purpose may argue for the elimination of extracurriculars and athletics, as they are expensive entities that only serve to distract from classroom learning. Those who advocate for a job-training purpose would argue against general education curriculum and would immediately eliminate concepts of the liberal arts. Those who take the liberal arts, holistic perspective would say nothing can be eliminated - but may have few ideas for how to fund all the "extra things" colleges and universities offer. Is the answer to allow for different specializations for colleges? Generally, I see research institutions falling into more of the academic purpose of higher education, vocational and trade schools aligning more with job-training beliefs, and liberal arts schools making up the final category of purposes. However, I believe many schools - regardless of classification - have started to move toward the "do it all" approach, where they have all adopted elements of other types of institutions. Is this done to stay competitive? Is it the wisest choice? Should institutional specialization end? Over the past decade, we have seen a rise in online learning, MOOCs, and other virtual classroom styles. Yet, as Kolodny (1998) wrote, this is not able to achieve the same impact as in-person learning. Manning (2013) discussed removing administrative bloat, which I interpret as meaning student affairs should be reduced/eliminated (I want a job!!). Both seem to be concerned with accountability. But that too raises questions of how to measure performance and how to implement accountability. Overall, this week's readings raised many questions for me, none of which I have the answer to. I agree things must change in terms of financing higher education, but I cannot even fathom what that may look like right now. In this week's readings, Bolman and Deal (2013) discussed the souls of organizations. They described the souls as being the bedrock of organizations' identities and values, and as being closely intertwined with the organizations' ethics. While reading this, I immediately began thinking of the souls of the various groups I've been a part of, whether they were work offices, student organizations, professional societies, or even just group project teams. Each one seems to have its own souls, but I came to realize I have a loosely-defined soul I prefer an organization to have. This was shown by how similar the souls among organizations I've led are, both because of how they were already established and because of how I crafted the soul while in the leadership role. I prefer organizations that value family-like structures and maintain strong ethics of inclusion and empowerment (or authorship).
Perhaps the strongest example of my preferred organizational soul is that of the student newspaper where I was the Managing Editor. Everyone operated as a family with genuine care and concern for each other paired with strong loyalty. We sought to make everyone feel welcome and included, which was done pretty naturally especially considering just how vastly different each person was. Finally, we played to each others' strengths and provided enough autonomy for each person to take ownership of their role. Such an organizational soul also reflects the Feminist perspective of organizations as described in Manning (2013). On the other hand, I have worked in organizations and offices where I find myself at odds with the soul. I typically struggle with souls born out of the political framework, where power is strongly valued. In one student affairs office where I have worked, the student volunteers in one organization were valued much more highly than student staff members and other constituencies. This embodied favoritism, fueled senses of entitlement, and created poorly-founded perceptions of power and authority of one group of students over another. I struggled with this office's soul, as it was so conflicting with my own values, ethics, and identity. Once I began reading the chapters from Schloss and Cragg (2013) for this week, I realized how applicable organization souls are to crises and laws. What an organization values, the ethics they maintain, and their sense of identity will guide how they respond to emergencies and the ways in which they will interact with various policies. Will they be equipped to handle crises, or will a single emergency be their end? Will they strive to uphold policies, or will they seek to understand laws just to know how to sidestep them? In the examples I described above, I can see how the newspaper's soul and the campus office's soul would influence their interactions with crises and policies. The newspaper would be ready for a campus protest against an editorial it wrote because every staff member would have each others' backs and they would have carefully written the editorial in accordance with its values of right and wrong. On the other hand, however, I could see the campus office failing to respond to dissatisfaction and criticism by external groups; those students who were undervalued and not included in the "favorite" group would likely turn against the office and fuel the fire. In regard to policies, the newspaper staff was well-versed in them and knew how to reinforce them through their work. With the campus office, however, I would see shady things happening to try and get around policies with facilities, marketing on campus, etc. In conclusion, I really enjoyed reading about various souls of organizations. As I continue my job search, I will do my best to identify the souls of colleges and campus offices to help me find my best fit. "Quantum leaps and paradigm shifts. . . are uncontrollable, unpredictable, and full of opportunity. . . The shift to a new paradigm involves understanding that these environments can be understood though not controlled, that there are many possible outcomes to the situations presented, and there is more going on than objective measures reveal" (Manning, 2013, p. 137-138).
It is impressive to think that these sorts of ideas are applicable to organizations and their structures; they sound more like plot lines in the Twilight Zone than frameworks to apply to organizations. Yet, Manning (2013) wrote about these ideas in the context of higher education and the volatile environments in which such institutions exist. To be a successful administrator of higher education, one must understand these notions. The landscape of higher education features many hills and valleys and shifts seemingly from one world to another. Perhaps one of the most frequent and significant paradigm shifts is launched through political administration and government. Federal governments, governors, and state legislatures can change the whole world of higher ed. For example, the Obama administration redefined what Title IX looked like on college campus and how it should be enforced to address issues of sexual assault. Just a few years later, however, the Trump administration revoked such policy and drove it in an entirely new direction. At the state level, deadlocks between legislatures and governors can result in $0 funding support of universities, as is currently seen in Illinois. These are all things university administrators cannot control. However, by seeking to understand them - the quantum leaps, the paradigm shifts - they can more effectively respond to them. I believe a common problem is administrators seek to try and predict or control such things rather than simply striving to understand them. Another quote that really stood out to me from Manning's chapters (can you tell these were my favorite for this week??) was: "Quantum organizational theorists postulated that relationships form the core of reality in institutions. Organizations did not exist as entities separate from human behavior that operated on 'natural' laws determined from outside that system. Rather, humans and their relationships were the organization. . . Quantum-assuming organizational members understand that leaders and other personnel cannot be swapped out like machine parts. The absence of one person has a ripple effect on the entire system as relationships shift, change, and re-form" (Manning, 2013, p. 139). I think this is especially true at smaller institutions. Having come from a much smaller private school and being in the midst of a job search for employment at such institutions, I both see and value the interconnectedness of such organizations. Whereas I believe larger institutions can tend to be more focused and operate in "silos", professionals at small institutions need to depend on each other moreso. When I'm interviewing at small schools, I find myself speaking with faculty, with safety officers, business affairs officers, coaches, and more. At larger institutions, these people aren't as likely to be involved in such processes. Having such an interconnectedness presents both benefits and challenges, but for me, the benefits are amazing and the challenges are exciting. With it already being halfway through the semester, it is time to really get going on my final project. To begin gaining an understanding of how I want to tackle this project, I am going to use this week’s Reaction post as an opportunity to apply an organizational framework to Greek Peer Advocates. This week’s readings from Bolman and Deal (2013) addressed the symbolic framework.
I will begin by introducing Greek Peer Advocates (GPA). GPA is a sexual assault awareness and prevention training program sponsored by the Office of Greek Life at Ball State. Two years ago, the office launched this program to address issues of sexual assault within the fraternity and sorority community. The immediate success and excitement it experienced, however, was not sustainable. As trainee retention dropped and enthusiasm waned, the program needed to refocus and redirect. This is what it is spending this semester doing, through the work of the student directors and support of the professional advising staff (the Assistant Director of Greek Life and three graduate assistants, including me). By examining GPA through the symbolic framework as described by Bolman and Deal (2013) in this week’s readings, I can gain insight into how various elements of the program and organization may have led to its decline and identify opportunities to help it rebuild. Bolman and Deal (2013) wrote of cultures, vision, values, languages, and ceremonies as part of the symbolic framework. The culture created by the GPA directors and lead trainers is one of determination to prevent sexual assault, a strong understanding of the various elements of sexual assault, a voice of advocacy, and a drive toward activism. This is displayed in the way they interact with each other, the articles and news they share, and the stories they tell. The vision for GPA is to create a trickle down effect of awareness and education; those who go through the training are meant to take the information back to their chapters and share it with other members perhaps through formal presentations but moreso through informal conversations. Some of the values related to GPA are a commitment to justice for victims, an ownership of intervening not just being a bystander, and an education of how to end sexual assault. Members of GPA speak a language riddles with words from Title IX policies, such as “consent,” “sexual harassment,” and “gender-based discrimination,” and words very tailored to the structure of the program. Finally, the only ceremony that really exist are selections of the directors (and that is even a stretch to consider this a ceremony). Although most of this sounds great, there are many hidden issues with GPA related to these various elements of the symbolic framework. To begin, the culture of advocacy and activism is exhibited in the leaders of the program and in their daily lives, but they struggle to extend it toward those who go through the trainings. The vision of a trickle effect is good, but is not being effectively enacted; trainees are not taking the messages back to their chapters as intended, so this must be rethought in how the program facilitates that. Honestly, I do not see issues with the values. But, I do see issues with the languages used; for those unfamiliar with the program (as another grad assistant and I were at the beginning of the semester), the program-specific language is difficult to grasp; this also is applicable to the Title IX language for those who are unfamiliar with it. Finally, I see an opportunity for ceremonies to be introduced to enhance the organization. An end of training ceremony where people’s achievement of finishing the training could aid in retention by formally recognizing their efforts. Overall, the symbolic framework can be applied to a variety of organizations to identify their areas of strengths and weaknesses. I enjoyed applying it to GPA and look forward to doing similar work for the final project. |
Kristin KreherMy happiness comes from meaningful interactions, the outdoors, thrift shops, and saying "thank you." Archives
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