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.
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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. This week, I really enjoyed the readings from Bolman and Deal (2013). To begin, I want to zero in on my favorite part of it, Exhibit 6.1 Models of Motivation at Work on page 121. This seems to be an element often overlooked by new leaders and managers when trying to consider how to increase the performance of their team. In my assistantship and practicum, I am responsible for advising several student leaders. Quite often, they will come to me with frustrations about their organization members under-performing or issues with membership retention. When this happens, I will engage them in a conversation about what their members are seeking through this involvement and how the organization is meeting those needs and desires. We talk about how to help organization members pursue their own goals and motivations in a way that also aligns with the needs and goals of the organization. Additionally, we will discuss little ways in which to increase their motivation, such as providing them with greater ownership of their work, sharing results of their efforts, and acknowledging their work with gratitude.
Many classes, job interviews, and initial organization meetings will begin with the same question: “Why are you here?” The goal of this question is to elicit potential opportunities to motivate the members of the class, the job applicant, or organization member. However, people often take it as a test. It seems to, more often than not, spur one of two reactions: eye rolls or an artificial answer that is clearly based on whatever the respondent believes the questioner wants to hear. Yet, when these answers are given, there is a missed opportunity to demonstrate what could help a respondent have a great experience. We need to start considering this question more thoughtfully and answer it honestly. Okay, back to the readings…how am I 300 words into this reflection and haven’t even really discussed the readings?! I guess Exhibit 6.1 just ignited several thoughts for me. In this graphic, models of motivation are shared. From Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs to Pink’s three drives, several different elements of needs are shared. However, they are all based on the same premise: people have needs, and they are motivated by trying to meet those needs. I especially like the models by McClelland and Pink. McClellands addresses people’s three primary needs/motivators: achievement, power, affiliation. Everyone wants to accomplish something and see the results of their efforts, they want to gain authority to spread influence, and they want to have groups with which they can identify and feel a sense of belonging. Pink highlights three “drives”: autonomy, mastery, and purpose. For me, purpose is always a significant driving force. Whenever I feel burnt out or discouraged with my work, I refocus on my purpose of serving others to power through the challenge. Additionally, I want to have control over my work (autonomy), and I want to always continue improving at what I do (mastery). Seeing these different models and the times of their development makes me wonder: do people’s needs and motivators change over time? I’m not talking about an individual’s needs. I’m talking about needs common to a whole generation. Can such research and models persist, or will there be continuous generational changes? Which needs are so core to being a human that will always be applicable? As we seek to be leaders and managers, these are the questions we should taken into consideration. This week's readings covered everything from frames of organizations to organized anarchy structures of educational institutions. I especially enjoyed the Bolman and Deal (2013) reading about various frameworks for organizations and common fallacies in explaining organizational problems. The fallacy that stuck out the most to me was the tendency to blame people whenever something goes wrong. I believe we see this in so many different contexts and with so many different organizations. Rather than focusing on fixing an issue, everyone often looks for someone to point the finger at when thing go awry. When this happens, time is wasted and opportunities to move forward are left unseized. I think we see this most often through the firing of upper-level administrators. When a university has significant issues (e.g. declining enrollment, major sexual assault scandals, extremely poor-performing sports teams, etc.), governing bodies or chief officers look for someone to fire. University presidents, vice presidents, deans, athletic directors, and head coaches have all been made scapegoats in situations such as these. However, if an institution is ineffective in further addressing the issue after firing someone, nothing at all will be accomplished. This directly ties into the reading from Schloss and Cragg (2013), which talks about key leadership positions and expectations. Expectations exist for these leaders to perform well, resolve issues, and help an institution advance its mission.
Manning (2013) talked about organizations that follow an organized anarchy structure. This concept was hard for me to fathom, as the metaphor of “anarchy” is so strong. However, as I came to better understand it, the concept of organized anarchy certainly grew on me. I have always valued smaller institutions because of the opportunities afforded for collaboration and for each individual to have a greater voice in university proceedings. I believe organized anarchy structures would be most successful at smaller institutions because of this. The best parts of this structure, in my opinion, are the opportunities to think critically and creatively and to create change. Along these lines, one quote in particular resonated with me: “While institutions constrain action they also provide sources of agency and change. The contradictions inherent in the differentiated set of institutional logics provide individuals, groups, and organizations with cultural resources for transforming individual identities, organizations, and society” (Thornton & Ocasio, 2008, p.101 as seen in Manning, 2013, p. 21). This all relates back to Bolman and Deal’s (2013) peculiarities of organizations, which have slight implications of organized anarchy structures. They identified complexity, surprising happenings, deceptiveness, and ambiguity as features of organizations. Within this section, I was struck by the quote, “The solution to yesterday’s problems often create future obstacles” (Bolman & Deal, 2013, p. 30). This is something I believe we will run into time and time again throughout this class as well as throughout our careers. It is a never-ending cycle, where we pride ourselves in being innovative only to learn we are creating more problems. A negative response to this would be to question whether attempts at innovation and solving problems are actually worth it. However, I remain optimistic that, although a solution may bring about new problems, there is at least a little lasting progress with each turn of this cycle. Can engaging one student lead to isolating another? Chapter Four of How College Works answers this question with a strong, "Yes!".
It seems almost counterintuitive, yet the logic pans out. Often, we in student affairs strive to create personal interactions with students and facilitate close relationships between them and the university. Those in academic affairs will tout small class sizes, proclaiming the benefits of such exposure to professors. But, at many colleges, it isn't feasible to deliver this level of service to all students. And, when so much effort is put into serving just a few students, the service to other students may be significantly decreased. I thought it was a bit odd that it took the researchers so long to figure out why the majority of students were taking large classes, despite the college's efforts to create more small classes. Most likely, this is just because readers have an outside perspective - but the issue seemed obvious. This was a good reminder to consider multiple perspectives and variables when conducting research. This chapter also struck a cord with me because my undergrad offered mostly small classes. In fact, I took very few classes with more than 20 students, and I didn't have a single class with more than 30 students. I loved the access I had to professors. However, I now realize how important it is to balance the personal interactions with a few and the general interactions with all. Chapter Five of How College Works was all about how students come to (or do not come to) belong in college. Immediately, I realized I had experienced several of the stages discussed in the chapter. On p. 79 and 80, the authors share some conditions crucial to the existence of bonded groups; I realized all four of these factors played a role in one of my closest friend groups from undergrad, the student newspaper. Following are the stages outlined by the authors and how our staff exhibited them.
I also found the idea of networks interesting. Again, reflecting on my own experience, I could see how true it was. However, I wonder about the differences in this idea across institution types. I wonder if students' networks are related to size of their college; and whether that relationship - if it exists - would be direct or inverse. Overall, I believe it is important for us as future student affairs professionals to consider how students form networks, what impacts they have, and how we can help facilitate this process. This week's readings also included several articles about factors affecting student persistence. Berger, Ramirez, and Lyons (2012) gave an overview of how retention came to be a focus of higher education. Originally, students did not always come to college with the intent of finishing. Over time, however, colleges began to realize how important it was for students to attain degrees. The authors also introduced vocabulary associated with retention and the differences among the words. In particular, a "stopout" stood our to me, as I had never heard of this; a stopout is someone who temporarily withdraws from an institution or system. Habley (2012) offered two chapters student success and persistence. The author highlighted how limited language portrays an inaccurate picture of retention, especially because some students may not persist at a singular institution, but they may still earn a degree in a system. I also found it interesting that student attrition prior to 1975 was nearly all attributed to student characteristics rather than institution characteristics. In chapter 2, Habley introduced several theories related to persistence, especially by Tinto, Astin, and Kuh. I'm looking forward to using these in my reference matrix and persistence autoethnography. The chapter by Hagedorn (2012) seemed somewhat redundant to the other readings. It gave a bit of a historical perspective, a bit of a theoretical perspective, and insight into how we may approach retention today. Most interesting to me was the need to consider student educational goals when looking at retention. I liked the article by Winkle-Wagner (2014). In particular, I liked the author's willingness to question some of the long-accepted theories proposed by Tinto. Although the author was not saying the theories were wrong, they did highlight limitations of the theories. This, too, will be important to consider when writing my own persistence autoethnography. Finally, the New York Times article gave a very personal look into factors effecting a student's persistence. This reminded me somewhat of our vignettes, as they told more of a story rather than simply presenting research. This article also reminded me of the importance I will play as a student affairs professional in supporting students along their higher education journey. This week's readings talked about students' transitions to and in college as well as the ways that today's teenagers are interacting with new technology. By understanding changing attitudes and experiences of students, as well as how they use technology to construct their social lives, we can better serve them during their time at college.
In the first reading, Renn and Reason (2013) talk about socialization. When I first started reading about it, it reminded me of this article I recently read for another class, calling for academic advisors to become cultural navigators. This article was saying college has its own culture, and academic advisors should serve students by teaching them the culture. I liked how Renn and Reason highlighted the many other ways a student may learn the college culture or become socialized, especially through the influences of family and peers. Renn and Reason clearly described a transition to college as "a psychological phenomenon, focusing on issues of stress, emotional adjustment, goal commitment, and a sense of institutional attachment" (p. 66). Thinking of my own experience as an undergrad, this is definitely true; I can describe many experiences relating to each of these issues. Another part of this article that stood out to me was about first-year seminar classes, as I served on a committee at my undergrad that sought to revamp the seminar program. In the process, we did many of the things mentioned in this article, such as setting specific desired outcomes, closely collaborating with faculty (rather than just us in student affairs), and developing an assessment plan. The bridge programs mentioned by Renn and Reason also interested me, as I'm not very familiar with these. I was surprised by how long some of these programs may be, and am interested in seeing how these may be geared to a variety of different students. Finally, I appreciated the efforts made by the authors to differentiate transfer students and highlight their unique situations. Whereas I generally thought the toughest challenges of transferring had to do with socialization into pre-existing systems, this article opened my eyes to more of the challenges related to academics and financial aid. In the article by Schaller (2010), attention is drawn to a group of students that, until recently, schools seem to have not put much thought to. Overall, I found it interesting how important self-efficacy is in the second year. It makes sense; sophomore year is when students must really start making a lot of decisions, and if they don't believe in their own competency, this can be incredibly difficult. Additionally, their first year at college will have a significant impact on students' self-efficacy, highlighting how important it is to view students holistically and understand the interconnectedness of all their experiences and milestones. I also liked the parts about students' motivation and values, and especially the impacts of parents' income on these two elements. I realized that, for the first bit of college, my main motivation was derived from parental expectations and lack of other perceived choices. However, that greatly changed throughout college and I became much more goal-driven and determined to help others with my education. It's important to realize what is driving students, so we can help them become more self-motivated toward success. While reading this, a few questions came to my mind:
The last reading, by Danah Boyd (2014), seemed a bit disconnected from the others (both the other readings for this week, and the other readings for the class so far). Indeed, I struggled to name this blog post because I could not think of a title that tied together all the readings. This article focused more on teenage students and their relationships with social media. Although it did not explicitly focus on college students, I think understanding students in the younger context is crucial to helping students transition to college. Like the first article, these chapters had to do with socialization. Rather than talking about how colleges somewhat force socialization to the higher ed environment, however, these chapters highlight the extent to which teenagers attempt to create and control their social lives. They supplement in-person interactions with online ones, and they tend to many different audiences. However, the digital world makes this difficult, as their social contexts can easily collapse due to the ability of so many people to see and participate in their interactions. This reading stressed that today's social media does not encourage isolation and withdrawal from in-person interactions like early forms of social media. Rather, it extends these interactions into more personal spaces. These chapters also speak to the generational differences in perceptions of privacy. Whereas many former generations assume an automatic privacy, requested publicity, today's teenagers assume publicity and create privacy when desired. I felt like the author was trying to stress that parents should just accept their children's different attitudes toward privacy rather than try to fight it. However, I believe a bit of compromise may be good on both ends. In the context of higher ed, it is important for us to understand how our students interact with social media. With the prevalence of these social networks in today's society, we have many opportunities to engage students, seek to understand them, and guide them in learning responsible practices. We need to understand how students are using social media and realize that a person's profile rarely tells the whole story, just like the example of an applicant who wrote about wanting to go to college to leave his gang-ridden community but posted several gang-related symbols on MySpace. Readings (presented in a lazily-attempted APA format):
After graduating from college, I was presented with an incredible opportunity: spend a semester working in a field I love, trying to do some good with students and a university I love, learning from a boss I know to be brilliant (just don't tell him I said that), and actually getting paid to do it (pretty sure the boss still regrets that part). It was a semester of impressive highs. On occasions numbering closer to 10 than to 1, I couldn't focus on doing my work because I was too distracted thinking about how much I love my work (yes, you can roll your eyes). I often struggled to keep random smiles from creeping across my face - not that I wanted to constantly frown, but the tech dude down the hallway probably got suspicious whenever I'd start grinning on my way back from the bathroom. Having taken up residency on Cloud Nine, it was a hard fall when the gig came to an end. I had expected the sadness of leaving my four-year home and the best people I've met, but I hadn't expected the sadness that would come with moving back home and preparing for a whole new chapter of my life. I cannot express how much I love my home and my family, and it's exactly because of that why they made me so sad. The realization that I'll never again experience my home in the same way I did for the first 18 years of my life hit me hard. Peter Pan ain't got nothing on me when it comes to never wanting to grow up, but coming home for the first summer in three years forced me to accept a bit of that annoyingly persistent adulthood. Realizing that "my home" is becoming "my parents' home" was a surprise that brought on the first real wave of sadness. Car troubles left me bidding adieu to the most tangible piece of countless high school and college memories. Closely following was another wave of sadness launched by fear of moving to a city of 70,000 people, with the total population of people I know resting firmly at 0. Doubt of my career path and a loss of focus on who I am fought to make me fall below the waves. Adding to the messy ocean of negative emotions was a string of tragedies around the world, that brought sadness to a much larger scale. It also paired with guilt, for I recognized that the things that had me down were entirely insignificant when compared to what so many others must face everyday. I was down in the dumps, and I was withdrawing from nearly all my friends. I started to struggle with being authentic, and the smile I couldn't keep off my face just one month earlier became rarer and rarer. While cleaning my room for the first time in four years (holy dust!), I came across a quote card that's always seemed to ring true to who I am: "It is not happy people who are thankful. It is thankful people who are happy." Many people around me have teased about my gushing "thank-you's," but I've always been set on a mission to appreciate every person and every experience life throws my way. I hadn't been doing that since leaving Bradley. Things started to look up as I returned to my habit of making a point to be grateful. They were further aided by reading letters I've received over the years from friends and mentors that reminded me of who I am, who I can be, and what I can do. Revisiting a kickass music playlist long-ago suggested by a friend also served to elevate my spirits (see below for my favorite song, or follow this link to the entire Spotify playlist). And reconnecting with some friends from whom I'd withdrawn helped me realize just how fortunate I am to have these thoughtful, motivated, and genuinely compassionate people as my cheerleaders and inspiration. The changes that come with growing up and the challenges I'll face with moving to Muncie are tough to swallow. I'll face obstacles with staying focused on my purpose and pursuing my passion. There are lows, and there are imperfections. But I know I've got some amazing people around me, a great life behind me, and a solid set of values to guide me through these next steps and to help me embrace even those bad times. For that, I am thankful. And because I am thankful, I am happy once again. The lights are off, door closed, and keys turned in. And so, my time at Bradley ends the same way it began - with lots and lots of tears.
This time though, the tears are different. Coming to Bradley as a student, I cried from wishing I could return to high school and the friends I made there. I cried out of fear for taking that first real step of independence. And I cried for all the goodbyes I felt the need to say. Now, leaving Bradley as an alumna and - even better - as a former employee, I cry for letting go of all those parts that - rightfully so - have expiration dates. I'm not saying bye, for I've learned goodbyes are rarely final. But I'm letting go of any naive wishes that I can ever return to this same experience with the same relationships. I'm letting go of official roles I held here, and I'm instead embracing the end of this chapter. This past semester of interning in Student Affairs will forever be among the best parts of my life. But I know I'd be failing everyone who believes in me and has given me so many opportunities if I refused to let go and instead stayed stuck in the past. There are parts of my experience, however, the parts with no expiration dates, that will stay with me. These aren't meant to be let go of, and you can bet I'll be holding on to them. These parts are the ones that include the positive impact made on me by the people I worked with, the students I served, the challenges I faced, and the successes and failures I had. The lessons I've learned about life, work, and relationships will be some of my strongest guiding principles as I move on to grad school. 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. For my colleagues: I realize there were times where I was that eager - and most likely annoying - intern with wide eyes peering through rose tinted glasses. And while that may have seemed guileless to you, I hope it also served as a reminder of why you chose the career you did and perhaps even reignited that flame of passion that was starting to flicker. For my students: I hope you felt challenged to think bigger and work harder. I hope you felt my confidence in you and that your confidence in yourself only swelled. I hope you will continue to pursue your passions vehemently and that you will always love the imperfections of life. Peace out, Peoria. It's been a blast. gen·er·al·ist | ˈjen(ə)rələst/ | noun
Anyone who's taken a business class can likely list the 4 P's of Marketing: product, place, price and promotion. Whenever my classes would get to the PowerPoint slide on "product," the professor would say again and again, "You can't be good at everything, and to try to be good at everything will ensure your failure." When a company develops a product, it shouldn't try to compete in all aspects; rather, it should pick its best feature - its unique selling point. Translate this to people rather than products, and most career advisors would tell you the same thing: figure out what you're best at, what your passion is, and pursue that relentlessly. But what happens when you're average to somewhat good at a lot of things, and nothing clearly stands out as your favorite? Welcome to the life of a generalist. I've been a generalist my entire life. Depending on the day, my kindergarten career ambitions switched between being a painter, an architect, a teacher, and a farmer. That failure of one side of my brain to dominate the other persisted as I entered high school as a tri-athlete, my favorite subjects being math and art, and 8 years of piano lessons under my belt. You can imagine my difficulties when it came time to choose a college and select a major. I had a perfect score on the Math portion of the ACT, but my creative flair kept me from fitting in with my math-loving counterparts. I wanted a career that would combine it all. In my classic style of making snap decisions on major aspects of my life, I decided to pursue a career in animation after watching a 5-minute Disney special on the creation of A Bug's Life. Animation seemed good for me, as it was part computer-programming and part designing. A double major with advertising would help me apply an animation degree to many different areas. That plan lasted only three semesters into college, and was further uprooted senior year when I decided to scrap it all together and pursue a career in student affairs. But, once again, my tendency to be a generalist transcended this new career path. A full-time internship with the Vice President for Student Affairs made my heart happy. As Vice President, my boss oversaw all aspects of student affairs, making it easy for me to dabble in many different functional areas. I sat in on meetings about accommodating a student with severe special needs, spent weeks working on assessment reports, advised a wellness organization, planned campus-wide events, researched resources for transgender students, and so much more. I was in heaven. But alas, it couldn't last forever. As a profession where nearly every position requires a Master's, my internship at my undergrad was only temporary. When it came time to leave and head to graduate school, my generalist heart was crushed as I realized it would be a long time, if ever, before I would be able to work with such a wide breadth of functional areas again. Sure, my assistantship with Student Center Programs would give me variety within a campus activities environment, but what about my desire to work with Title IX policies and to enhance the first year experience? Closely following this realization, the student development theory of self-authorship crept into my mind. This theory essentially refers to becoming the author of your life and determining your own path. In this instance, I decided to set my own path. I refused to work in a silo. I refused to let an entry-level position keep me from the learning opportunities afforded by working with many different areas. And I refused to let traditional career paths and higher ed bureaucracies keep me from being a generalist. Instead, I made a commitment to collaboration and volunteerism. I knew I couldn't - nor did I believe I should - begin at a management level that would allow me to supervise all these different functions of student affairs. I could, however, from my entry-level position, pursue these various interests by actively seeking opportunities to get involved with them. Supervising an alternative break trip, facilitating a fraternity leadership workshop, moderating common read discussions, and more would allow me to maintain my generalist tendencies. I'll start graduate school and my assistantship in just a couple months, and I'm excited to set my own path. I was incredibly fortunate to begin my student affairs career interning for a person at the top of the student affairs hierarchy, but I'm now ready to set out on my own from the bottom. Perhaps it's too new. Perhaps I just haven't gotten a chance to get burnt out yet.
Or perhaps it's what I'm made for. Barely a month has passed since I graduated college, but the shift from a college student's schedule to that of a working professional has been a smooth transition. In fact, the 10 p.m. bedtime has been preferable to the former 2 a.m. one (except for Late Night BU evenings of course). Now, over half my weekdays end at 5 p.m., and Saturdays are no longer spent consumed by homework. Instead, I'm spending 40+ hours a week working. Several people have asked me if I miss homework or if it feels weird to not leave work every few hours to go to class. As a straight-A student my whole life, most people assume I loved class. While they were occasionally enjoyable, I always preferred what I got to do outside of the classroom. Now, that out-of-the-classroom work has become my full time job. I'm advising a student organization, planning campus-wide events, assessing current programs, and doing everything I can to enhance the student experience. My days are filled with meetings, research, and report compilation – and I couldn't be happier. The pre-job jitters have been dispelled in just one week. Would my colleagues respect me, despite my lack of a Master's? Would students respond positively to my role as an advisor when I was a mere peer just a few weeks ago? The answers were yes and yes. The support and excitement from all those I work with has been amazing. Student affairs is a high-energy, demanding profession. And I couldn't be more eager to be launching my career in it. |
Kristin KreherMy happiness comes from meaningful interactions, the outdoors, thrift shops, and saying "thank you." Archives
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