I am most impressed when high school students at college/career fairs step up, look me straight in the eye and quiz me about programs and procedures at my college. I don't care as much about their question -- those are fairly predictable and easy to answer or redirect -- as I do about their non-verbal declaration of taking responsibility for their future.
Both sides do recognize that the choice of a program/career, first, and college second, are two of the most important decisions that we make. We might make that decision as a high school junior or senior, or much, much later in our life. And, we often repeat that choice throughout our lives as new goals lead to new educational needs and lead to another gauntlet of college/career fairs.
In contrast to my idea fair-goer, gaggles of students wander down the safe center of the aisle during these fairs, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone at any of the tables. Eye contact, even a sideways glance, might mean that they have to talk about their future which scares them more than subordinate clauses. These students are at the fair because it's a day away from school with their BFFs. Walking upright and not bumping into exhibits is their goal for the day. Most manage that.
I let those students pass without trying to draw them in. Why frighten them? The students that I am interested in are those who will step away from the safety of their friends in the aisle. I want to talk with students who use the fair as a deliberate, purposeful pursuit of their future, rather than those who aimlessly wander the aisles distracted by cheap give-aways, flashy banners and vendors that promise more than they can deliver.
To be truthful, even the focused students will not find all their answers during the fair: it's just a first step followed by campus visits, interviews, applications, testing and advising. Nevertheless, taking the first step from the safety of the aisle, making eye contact and asking serious questions show that they are accepting responsibility for what happens to them. I can help these students begin to understand that college and the future is not a place where you find the right answers as much as it is a place where you find the right questions to ask. It's up to them to step out and step up.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Spring Sympathy Card to the Gulf Coast
This is the time of the year when I pity residents of the Gulf Coast.
They have had to endure months of annoyingly green lawns, flowering plants and temperatures in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Those who live on the ocean coast have it even worse: ocean breezes moving the surf out and back according to the orbital pattern of the moon rather than at the whim of terrestrial forces out of the Canadian prairies.
Boring.
What do residents of the south have to look forward to in March, April and May? More green plants, more orchid colored-petals, more days of room temperature. Same old same old. It's like being stuck on the same channel showing the same episode of "Swamp People" over and over again. Unchanging nice weather is unique the first dozen days but begins to look tired four months later. On the Gulf, Halloween looks like Thanksgiving looks like Christmas looks like President's Day looks like Easter.
We in the Midwest, however, actually do have seasons. Summers up here are like the best days in Orlando but without the hurricanes. Stunning falls days overwhelm the imagination of even the Disney Imagineers and December holiday decorations in the Midwest actually look appropriate. A Styrofoam snowman wired down to a muddy Georgia front lawn with blinking green and red lights is just wrong. Sure, we have some snow up here (just to clean the landscape up while plants are resting) and the cold can be biting, but those temperatures also bring ice fishing and record sturgeon spearing and once in a generation ice caves off Lake Superior. We may get a little testy toward the end of February, but that's what fireplaces are for.
Spring is the season that really sets us apart from the unfortunates in the Gulf. As snow banks inch back from driveway edges during 40-degree days, the first hints of new life peak out from under last year's leaf cover. Slender, pale green shoots push up under last year's debris unfurling insistent single and double leaves that soak in the sun of longer days and grow. The robins are back searching along the south side of house foundations, and the cardinals never left. Red-wing blackbirds resume their sentry positions along the riverfront trail that links neighboring cities. Tree buds are round with the year's new promise of life.
We are some weeks away from the first sight of crocus, narcissus and tulip, but the corner has been turned even if we occasionally have a single digit night. Highs in 30s and 40s bring new spring to our steps, clear the sidewalks of ice and snow and coax neighbors out onto adjoining driveways to talk about surviving another winter. Spring light brings us out and brings us out smiling.
Without the annual cycles of the seasons, we are no more real than department store spring manikins posing on plastic grass with fabric birds singing in the cutout trees. Pretty to look at, but insubstantial and lacking the depth of connection to natural cycles of the world. Without this seasonal grounding, beginning with the slow rise of spring from winter, we drift untethered through the temporal breezes of the year, sort of like a Gulf Coast breeze.
They have had to endure months of annoyingly green lawns, flowering plants and temperatures in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Those who live on the ocean coast have it even worse: ocean breezes moving the surf out and back according to the orbital pattern of the moon rather than at the whim of terrestrial forces out of the Canadian prairies.
Boring.
What do residents of the south have to look forward to in March, April and May? More green plants, more orchid colored-petals, more days of room temperature. Same old same old. It's like being stuck on the same channel showing the same episode of "Swamp People" over and over again. Unchanging nice weather is unique the first dozen days but begins to look tired four months later. On the Gulf, Halloween looks like Thanksgiving looks like Christmas looks like President's Day looks like Easter.
We in the Midwest, however, actually do have seasons. Summers up here are like the best days in Orlando but without the hurricanes. Stunning falls days overwhelm the imagination of even the Disney Imagineers and December holiday decorations in the Midwest actually look appropriate. A Styrofoam snowman wired down to a muddy Georgia front lawn with blinking green and red lights is just wrong. Sure, we have some snow up here (just to clean the landscape up while plants are resting) and the cold can be biting, but those temperatures also bring ice fishing and record sturgeon spearing and once in a generation ice caves off Lake Superior. We may get a little testy toward the end of February, but that's what fireplaces are for.
Spring is the season that really sets us apart from the unfortunates in the Gulf. As snow banks inch back from driveway edges during 40-degree days, the first hints of new life peak out from under last year's leaf cover. Slender, pale green shoots push up under last year's debris unfurling insistent single and double leaves that soak in the sun of longer days and grow. The robins are back searching along the south side of house foundations, and the cardinals never left. Red-wing blackbirds resume their sentry positions along the riverfront trail that links neighboring cities. Tree buds are round with the year's new promise of life.
We are some weeks away from the first sight of crocus, narcissus and tulip, but the corner has been turned even if we occasionally have a single digit night. Highs in 30s and 40s bring new spring to our steps, clear the sidewalks of ice and snow and coax neighbors out onto adjoining driveways to talk about surviving another winter. Spring light brings us out and brings us out smiling.
Without the annual cycles of the seasons, we are no more real than department store spring manikins posing on plastic grass with fabric birds singing in the cutout trees. Pretty to look at, but insubstantial and lacking the depth of connection to natural cycles of the world. Without this seasonal grounding, beginning with the slow rise of spring from winter, we drift untethered through the temporal breezes of the year, sort of like a Gulf Coast breeze.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Zingerman's OMG: Going Above and Beyond
We received a postcard in the mail this week from Zingerman's mail order company. I know receiving a postcard from a mail order company does not usually merit blogability, but stay with me. One side of the card had a Zingerman's signature hand-drawn thank you cartoon; the other side was this hand-addressed handwritten note:
"Hi there! It was a pleasure speaking with you today. I know Brandon and Hannah enjoyed the thoughtful gift box. Thank you for ordering with me! Best, Lukas at Zingerman's Mail Order."
Zingerman's, Ann Arbor, MI, has built its reputation selling quality food products in colorful boxes (you'll want to keep the boxes -- trust me on that) backed by world-class customer service from Lukas and his associates. The postcard followed a routine sale when we ordered the Midnight Feeding Box for our niece and nephew, first-time parents of a brand new baby girl (sourcream coffeecake, hot cocoa cake, black magic brownies and such). Lukas took the order, recognized the names of our niece and nephew from past gifts and congratulated us on the new addition to the family. A week later he sent the postcard.
Good story, but it's not Zingerman's at its best. This company routinely delights customers. In November, we ordered a Christmas gift box of breads and pastry for another niece and nephew. We shipped to an old address -- they had moved and we had not updated our address book. We discovered this a week before Christmas and in a panic called Zingerman's who tracked down the shipment to a shipping center and made the necessary address change. Efficient service. Crisis averted. Christmas is saved. We were very satisfied.
A few hours later, we received a follow-up call from Zingerman's. The sales team member said, "We've been talking about this order here, and you know we like our products to arrive as fresh as possible. Since the order was stopped and rerouted, the box will arrive a day later than we prefer. So, we will send your niece and nephew a new fresh shipment direct from the store."
That's thoughtful, we said, sensing an additional cost. How much more for the second box?
"Oh, there is no charge for that."
No charge? So will the first box be sent back to the store? "Oh no. They will receive that too." Amazing. The company not only corrected a problem that they did not cause, they doubled the resulting gift for no extra charge. Our niece and nephew and the rest of the family was amazed by the story, the service, and the black magic brownies.
How does a company turn good, efficient customer service into OMG stories? By going above and beyond with each and every customer, with each and every contact opportunity. Nothing creates customer loyalty like a personal touch, say an old-fashioned hand-written postcard.
"Hi there! It was a pleasure speaking with you today. I know Brandon and Hannah enjoyed the thoughtful gift box. Thank you for ordering with me! Best, Lukas at Zingerman's Mail Order."
Zingerman's, Ann Arbor, MI, has built its reputation selling quality food products in colorful boxes (you'll want to keep the boxes -- trust me on that) backed by world-class customer service from Lukas and his associates. The postcard followed a routine sale when we ordered the Midnight Feeding Box for our niece and nephew, first-time parents of a brand new baby girl (sourcream coffeecake, hot cocoa cake, black magic brownies and such). Lukas took the order, recognized the names of our niece and nephew from past gifts and congratulated us on the new addition to the family. A week later he sent the postcard.
Good story, but it's not Zingerman's at its best. This company routinely delights customers. In November, we ordered a Christmas gift box of breads and pastry for another niece and nephew. We shipped to an old address -- they had moved and we had not updated our address book. We discovered this a week before Christmas and in a panic called Zingerman's who tracked down the shipment to a shipping center and made the necessary address change. Efficient service. Crisis averted. Christmas is saved. We were very satisfied.
A few hours later, we received a follow-up call from Zingerman's. The sales team member said, "We've been talking about this order here, and you know we like our products to arrive as fresh as possible. Since the order was stopped and rerouted, the box will arrive a day later than we prefer. So, we will send your niece and nephew a new fresh shipment direct from the store."
That's thoughtful, we said, sensing an additional cost. How much more for the second box?
"Oh, there is no charge for that."
No charge? So will the first box be sent back to the store? "Oh no. They will receive that too." Amazing. The company not only corrected a problem that they did not cause, they doubled the resulting gift for no extra charge. Our niece and nephew and the rest of the family was amazed by the story, the service, and the black magic brownies.
How does a company turn good, efficient customer service into OMG stories? By going above and beyond with each and every customer, with each and every contact opportunity. Nothing creates customer loyalty like a personal touch, say an old-fashioned hand-written postcard.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
The Annual Employee Review
The annual employee review seems to me a remnant of a mechanistic management style a little out of step with emerging trends of employer-employee collaboration. Relying too much on a once-a-year review always overlooks the fact that our work is evaluated every day by students, staff members, team members, colleagues, outside partners and leadership. If there is something wrong, one would hope that it would not take a year to correct the problem. On the other hand, if something is going well, one would also hope that it would not take a year to say, "Nice job." The best evaluation technique has always been constant, consistent, honest feedback. I don't know why that's hard to do.
Yet, speaking from the employee side of the desk, the exercise is expected especially if no other long-term feedback is given during the year which does happen in some jobs. Once, I remember not receiving an evaluation because the boss was busy: I felt overlooked and under-appreciated. Silly, I know, but the annual ritual does force at least one discussion once a year about expectations and performance. Though, if this happens only once a year, the discussion is seldom honest or productive. It is necessary while at the same time dreaded. Like an annual physical: "Turn your head, cough, and tell me what your goals are for the next year."
Of course sometimes, the evaluation becomes unproductive when it is twisted into non-collaborative sub tones. Another year, another job, another example, I was annoyed when a boss told me at the end of a glowing evaluation that I did not communicate well. "What?" said I communicating rather well at the moment. He shrugged and said he had to put something down for improvement for next year. Since I was a strong communicator, he thought it would be easy to show progress for next year's form. I would show improvement and he would show coaching skills. He thought the idea was a win-win solution. I thought I needed to update my resume.
This year in a post-Act 10 world in Wisconsin, a new Faculty Progression process is being tried out at my college. The process is thoughtful and innovative since it asks faculty and managers to establish a baseline of expectations and identify specific goals within a four-tier employment structure. Rather than force judgement into 50 check boxes ("Do you strongly agree, disagree, or think the boss has lost his/her mind?") this method seems to encourage more reflection than the usual turn of the head and cough. It takes longer, but so far, I am happy with this process: the goals are relevant, reasonable and achievable, though challenging, and the discussion I had with my associate dean was honest and productive.
Next year, we can evaluate how it is going.
Yet, speaking from the employee side of the desk, the exercise is expected especially if no other long-term feedback is given during the year which does happen in some jobs. Once, I remember not receiving an evaluation because the boss was busy: I felt overlooked and under-appreciated. Silly, I know, but the annual ritual does force at least one discussion once a year about expectations and performance. Though, if this happens only once a year, the discussion is seldom honest or productive. It is necessary while at the same time dreaded. Like an annual physical: "Turn your head, cough, and tell me what your goals are for the next year."
Of course sometimes, the evaluation becomes unproductive when it is twisted into non-collaborative sub tones. Another year, another job, another example, I was annoyed when a boss told me at the end of a glowing evaluation that I did not communicate well. "What?" said I communicating rather well at the moment. He shrugged and said he had to put something down for improvement for next year. Since I was a strong communicator, he thought it would be easy to show progress for next year's form. I would show improvement and he would show coaching skills. He thought the idea was a win-win solution. I thought I needed to update my resume.
This year in a post-Act 10 world in Wisconsin, a new Faculty Progression process is being tried out at my college. The process is thoughtful and innovative since it asks faculty and managers to establish a baseline of expectations and identify specific goals within a four-tier employment structure. Rather than force judgement into 50 check boxes ("Do you strongly agree, disagree, or think the boss has lost his/her mind?") this method seems to encourage more reflection than the usual turn of the head and cough. It takes longer, but so far, I am happy with this process: the goals are relevant, reasonable and achievable, though challenging, and the discussion I had with my associate dean was honest and productive.
Next year, we can evaluate how it is going.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Team Work Makes the Dream Work
"Team work makes the dream work," a phrase coined by Atlanta Technical College student, Terrence Whitehead, was probably the most tweeted phrase that came out of the 10th Annual Achieving the Dream conference last week. The Dream conference is a national conference of community colleges who come together annually to push each other toward innovative and data-supported programs for student success.
Speaker after speaker -- students, faculty, staff and administration -- all reminded us of the lasting impact that just one person can have in the life of another. Of course we know that, though sometimes because of day-to-day struggles, we forget. Student Joshua Ortiz of Kingsborough Community College, New York, lauded those attending who wanted to make that impact and, added, "if that's not why you are here, then I don't know why you are here." Indeed.
One person can make a difference but not, unfortunately, a consistent one. Isolated pockets of innovation do not change the lives of more than a handful of fortunate students. To make a significant impact, innovation needs to be backed by colleagues and institutional support: thus the logic of the Whitehead quote above. So, I was interested in one particular conference session focused on how to start teams.
"Guidelines for Team Building," from Kingsborough Community College, were prefaced with the warning label that innovative change can cause cracks within collegiate ivy walls: "Bear in mind, many of us don't feel comfortable with change and avoid 'rocking the boat' or make every effort to 'maintain the peace.'" That's a natural reaction of self-preservation. Change, by definition, pushes the status quo that then pushes back upon the change agent. It's practically one of Newton's Laws of Science. "However," the guidelines remind us, "our ultimate goal is to serve students and foster their success." In order to do that, Kingsborough recommends these seven team-starting rules.
Speaker after speaker -- students, faculty, staff and administration -- all reminded us of the lasting impact that just one person can have in the life of another. Of course we know that, though sometimes because of day-to-day struggles, we forget. Student Joshua Ortiz of Kingsborough Community College, New York, lauded those attending who wanted to make that impact and, added, "if that's not why you are here, then I don't know why you are here." Indeed.
One person can make a difference but not, unfortunately, a consistent one. Isolated pockets of innovation do not change the lives of more than a handful of fortunate students. To make a significant impact, innovation needs to be backed by colleagues and institutional support: thus the logic of the Whitehead quote above. So, I was interested in one particular conference session focused on how to start teams.
"Guidelines for Team Building," from Kingsborough Community College, were prefaced with the warning label that innovative change can cause cracks within collegiate ivy walls: "Bear in mind, many of us don't feel comfortable with change and avoid 'rocking the boat' or make every effort to 'maintain the peace.'" That's a natural reaction of self-preservation. Change, by definition, pushes the status quo that then pushes back upon the change agent. It's practically one of Newton's Laws of Science. "However," the guidelines remind us, "our ultimate goal is to serve students and foster their success." In order to do that, Kingsborough recommends these seven team-starting rules.
- "Check your titles and egos at the door." Teams need to be on an equal footing. Comments should be judged on the merit of the idea not the pay grade of the ideator.
- "Keep in mind that this working environment should be a safe one. Some teams include both subordinates and their direct reports." See the comments on rule number one.
- "All team members have a voice deserving of equal respect as each of us brings out own experiences and expertise." One might assume that team members are chosen for the team for a particular reason. If they are not allowed to bring their value to the groups, why have them on the team to begin with?
- "Do not assign blame. Discuss each issue with tolerance, acceptance and an open mind." Finger pointing is not only impolite, it is unproductive. Find out what the problem is, what changes data supports, and what needs to be done to make the changes. If team meetings during into a blame game, trust within the team will erode its foundational effectiveness.
- "Solving the problem is everyone's responsibility." A solution will be stronger coming from a team consensus after open, honest discussion. Remember, the goal is "to serve students and foster their success."
- "The focus should be on the task at hand, not the people in the room." Data-driven evidence places the emphasis on the problem in front of the team.
- "Bring a sense of humor." Humor can defuse many tough discussions. When a team loses its sense of humor, it needs to adjourn for the day.
Will the team process be hard to implement and manage? Sure, but that shouldn't stop us from doing it. A final student on the concluding panel, Irving Ledezma, Tarrant Community Community College, put it this way, "Life without challenges will never be meaningful. How you overcome your challenges is how you make it meaningful." Schools need well-functioning, hard-working teams to move individual innovation onto institutional policy. Just keep the sense of humor going.
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