#tenured-faculty

#tenured-faculty

"Singlism" is a term coined by psychologist Dr. Bella DePaulo; this is defined as the discrimination and stereotyping of those who are non-married (I prefer this to the term "unmarried"). I'm not a psychologist, but a lot of the assumptions Dr. Tanglen's colleagues made about her "freedom" are an example of singlism. Much of the loneliness the writer felt may have been a result of internalized singlism, which emanates from societal messages from our public discourse (media, business practices, even laws)

From my own graduate work, I know that it's only when you hit an experimental roadblock that you get to refine your hypothesis and hone your technical skills. But my new graduate students feel like they've failed when their first experiments don't work as planned. It takes a special kind of perseverance to be an independent researcher, and I see this lack of confidence in many of my students.

Cuts that hurt are obvious: layoffs, program closures, college closures, furloughs, deferred maintenance, pay freezes, travel freezes, etc. It's a well-worn playbook at this point. Most of the moves in this category involve either attacking employee compensation, which causes obvious pain, or putting off necessary investments and living with gradual declines in quality.

Many colleges and universities have made cuts in these programs, often bolstering STEM programs at their expense. It's a situation that has sparked no small amount of impassioned editorials. The headline of a recent article at The Guardian by Alice Speri referenced an 'existential crisis at U.S. universities,' and Speri's reporting features numerous examples of undergraduate and graduate programs facing cuts or outright elimination.

This is a striking decision at a moment when public confidence in higher education is eroding. It is also puzzling because rigorous research and evaluation have demonstrated, over and over, the value of the work of centers for teaching and learning, including positive impacts on student learning outcomes, institutional effectiveness and faculty development.

Whether it's executive coaching or life coaching, people understand the concept and know that there is value to it in higher ed. However, what's been missing is this foundational research that really explains why coaching works in this context and how you can then leverage it to have the most impact on student success. What does a coach need to know, and at what skill level do they need to operate in order to have the impact on students that we want to see?

A tweet can travel far, but it cannot spark a spontaneous conversation in the hallway. Conferences offer in-person engagement, but they are infrequent and often exclusive or too busy. Hanging a paper on your office door? That's immediate, local and quietly powerful. It is a symbolic gesture that brings your research into the physical space of the university, something rarely done in today's digital culture.

Not too long ago, in the time before they became chiefs, our VPs would have been called deans, directors or, in the case of our chief financial officer, treasurer. (Indeed, some retain a dean title along with their vice presidential one-the vice president of student affairs and dean of students, or the vice president and dean of admission and financial aid.) I respect and value the work that they do, regardless of their title. I know them and am aware of their dedication to the college and the well-being of its students, faculty and staff.

Chad M. Topaz's critique of the Faculty Merit Act, drafted by the National Association of Scholars, itself embodies another ill of the academy-the conflation of activism with scholarship. Dispassionate readers will quickly grasp that a "co-founder of the Institute for the Quantitative Study of Inclusion, Diversity and Equity" has programmatic goals of his own-the promotion of the illiberal and discriminatory ideology frequently referred to as "Diversity, Equity and Inclusion" (DEI).