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Liberal Education, Spring 2004
Creating the "Complete Scholar":
Academic Professionalism in the 21st Century
By Linda McMillin |
In "Making a Place for the New
American Scholar," Gene Rice outlines a lofty goal for
all of us who would call ourselves academics: that of becoming
a "complete scholar." This is "a career
objective that unfolds over a lifetime of scholarly work."
He goes on to describe a complete scholar: "Faculty
moving toward becoming complete scholars would have a sense
of the whole, with a wide variety of choices and options across
the life span of a career, and the capability of responding
to shifting institutional and societal needs." Stated
succinctly, a complete scholar cultivates "a multidimensional
sense of the professional self."
Becoming a complete scholar is a worthwhile
pursuit--even if it is one that few of us may fully realize.
I have a senior colleague who is as near the embodiment of
this ideal as I can imagine. His thirty-five year career has
been rich and varied: an award-winning teacher, an effective
dean, and a well-respected historian. He has managed to constantly
reinvent himself and adapt to changes in theory and methodology,
in pedagogy and student expectations, in institutional mission
and resource availability--all with grace and wit and
modesty. But what most strikes me about my colleague is in
fact his "multidimensional sense of [a] professional
self." His professional identity is complex: He sees
himself as an historian and a teacher with a place both in
the professional community of Susquehanna University and in
that of higher education as a whole.
I suspect that most campuses could come
up with a candidate for the complete scholar title. But can
any of our campuses take credit for these outstanding individuals?
One hopes that there have been particular institutional spaces,
opportunities, and supports afforded these colleagues to successfully
construct a complex professional identity. However, many of
us might be afraid that they have become complete scholars
in spite of, rather than because of, their institutions.
Generational shift
My interest in this nature vs. nurture
question--the impact of "environment" in
creating the complete scholar--has immediate applicability.
My institution, like many others, is moving through a great
generational shift. I have many junior colleagues--recent
arrivals, freshly scrubbed, with newly minted Ph.D.s. They
are so young and excited, so full of energy and potential.
My hope for them is that they all will grow up to be complete
scholars--like our senior colleague. And I want our institution
to do everything we can in the coming years to increase the
likelihood that they too might cultivate "a multidimensional
sense of the professional self."
When I place my senior colleague on one
side and my junior colleagues on the other and try to construct
a bridge between them, I am overwhelmed by their differences.
The former is the quintessential professorial stereotype--white,
Protestant male, whose wife has always put his career first;
the latter are the new faculty, many female or from traditionally
underrepresented groups, all having partners with their own
professional agendas. They are already the lucky few survivors
of a cutthroat job market where many equally talented grad-school
mates are subsisting as adjuncts. Technology has shaped the
way they do their work--both teaching and research--and
will continue to in ways that are unforeseeable at present.
Moreover, they are beginning their careers at a time when
expectations of higher education are growing--to educate
more students, better, with fewer resources--and societal
support for this enterprise has declined.
Despite these differences, however, I
am confident that the next generation of complete scholars
will share much with the current generation. A multidimensional
sense of a professional self will be even more necessary for
this new generation if they are to develop the flexibility
needed to adapt to the rapidly changing environment of higher
education. Like our senior colleague, they will need a professional
identity that is rooted in and committed to a discipline,
to students, to a local institution, and to higher education
as a whole. Furthermore, they will need to be able to hold
these commitments in tension so as to reinvent themselves
and to shift their balances over the span of a career.
My goal here is to outline some ideas
about what our institutions can do to create spaces where
these young professionals can nurture these commitments. In
each of the four areas--discipline, teaching, local institution,
and larger higher education landscape--faculty and administrative
colleagues can systematically engage new faculty and invite
them into the academic profession in ways that will increase
the likelihood of creating complete scholars.
Cultivating a stake in a discipline
Most new faculty come to their first
job with a strong stake in a particular discipline. In fact,
sometimes the biggest adjustment in their first year on the
job has to do with adapting this commitment to make room for
the variety of tasks that professors undertake--including
teaching and service. Our institutions recognize and foster
disciplinary commitments, especially in their reward systems.
Publish or perish continues to be the mantra of our profession.
Indeed, from community colleges to research universities,
there is a direct correlation between one's publication
record and one's paycheck. As we have ratcheted up our
expectations in this area, many institutions have made further
investments in faculty research, providing funding for start-up
costs, research grants, travel support, sabbaticals, and pre-tenure
leaves. And the clamor to lighten teaching loads is heard
throughout the land. Since institutional rewards and institutional
reputation seem to follow research productivity, such supports
seem both fair and prudent. At the same time, however, there
are voices that question how well some commitments to research
align with institutional mission.
I am not suggesting that institutions
lessen their support for faculty research. Higher education
as a whole has a strong commitment and obligation to put the
best minds of our society to work on the creation of new knowledge
and its application to solve any number of societal ills.
Colleges and universities are also centers of creativity that
enrich our world in multitudinous ways. However, the resources
that are committed to scholarly activity in any given institution
should go to support those projects that have a strong connection
to the institution's mission. For example, Susquehanna's
undergraduate focus has led many of our scientists to reconceive
their research agendas to incorporate undergraduates. For
many this has meant a rethinking of methodology and a scaling
back of their timelines to accommodate the learning curves
of their student researchers. In some cases this has even
meant changing focus to work on more accessible projects.
Such accommodations are not confined to the sciences. In most
departments undergraduate research has become an important
endeavor. But at tenure time questions remain as to just how
much collaborative research with students should "count."
If, however, such disciplinary work is mission driven, it
should be recognized and rewarded as scholarship rather than
simply layered on top of other obligations.
Most institutions also force new faculty
to think more broadly about their disciplines than the specializations
of graduate school. This happens from the start, as new faculty
must stretch to create introductory courses. In my experience
as a historian, this has meant being conversant in several
civilizations across multiple centuries as opposed to the
one village during a single decade that is the stuff of dissertations.
Such stretching can be intimidating. Yet, this imperative
to broaden one's disciplinary perspective and even to
venture into the borderlands of interdisciplinary collaboration
is essential to our institutional missions.
Other stretches come when new faculty
are asked to put their disciplinary expertise in the service
of the local community. Municipal projects, social service
agencies, and schools are often looking for academic partners,
and making these connections can be an important part of our
institutional missions. However, the popular wisdom is to
"protect" younger faculty from such endeavors--keep
them focused on traditional research and not let them branch
out until after the tenure decision. Yet the truth is that
if new faculty are not finding ways to make their research
accessible to students, serving the local community, and building
some interdisciplinary connections before tenure, they will
rarely do it after.
The challenge is to find the right balance
for new faculty and also to make sure reward systems in the
area of scholarship are broad enough to include the work most
connected to institutional mission. By doing this, we can
give new faculty a supportive and flexible space in which
to cultivate the first dimension of academic professionalism--connection
to discipline.
Cultivating a stake in students
In recent years, increased attention
has been paid to the fact that graduate schools do not prepare
their students to be teachers. AAC&U's Preparing
Future Faculty program and the Reinventing the Ph.D. projects
have done a wonderful job of explicating and beginning to
remediate this problem. Indeed, I increasingly find that when
reviewing candidates in job searches, many will have included
a teaching portfolio and sample syllabi. Nevertheless, new
faculty often have a great need for good mentoring around
teaching in their first few years.
New faculty need to work through a variety
of pedagogical approaches and find a range of formats and
options that match their disciplines and their students. In
addition, they need a safe place for sharing syllabi, strategies,
problems, triumphs, and failures. One approach that Susquehanna
has found useful is the formation of teaching cells--informal
groupings of four to six faculty from a range of disciplines
and ranks that come together to discuss pedagogy on a regular
basis. The program has been voluntary and the focus on formative
rather than summative assessments. More recently, we have
taken this format and applied it directly to new faculty orientation
with the creation of mentoring circles that meet throughout
a new faculty member's first year. Each new faculty
member is part of a group of four, along with two second-year
faculty and a tenured faculty member. Thus, in the second
year, faculty members continue to be mentored by senior faculty
even while they are also becoming mentors to a new cohort.
While this mentoring circle is aimed at orienting new faculty
to the institution as a whole, conversations about teaching
are a key part of the project.
Knowing our students means constantly
evaluating and reevaluating not only pedagogy but also curriculum.
New faculty often are given a strong voice in the shaping
of disciplinary curricula--they are rightly perceived
to be those most in touch with new trends and methodologies.
But they also need to be invited into conversation about general
education. New faculty are often asked to teach a course that
is part of a core curriculum without ever knowing such a larger
context exists, much less how their particular course fits
into the whole. New faculty (and sometimes older ones as well)
need to be challenged to think not only about their bit of
turf in general education, but also about what it means to
be liberally educated and to take responsibility and ownership
of the whole program.
New faculty need to understand as well
the particular students they are teaching. Of course, we all
want to work with the best and the brightest students; after
all, these are often the easiest people to teach, mainly by
just getting out of their way. But the greater challenge is
to meet all students where they are and create a learning
environment where they might be both challenged and successful.
This involves understanding who our students are, their backgrounds,
their learning styles, their work habits, and their "other"
life outside the classroom, factors that may enhance or impede
their learning.
Recently, our student life staff did
a fall workshop using CIRPs data to present a profile of Susquehanna
students as compared to the national picture. An interactive
session, it challenged faculty with a series of multiple choice
questions to see just how well they knew their students. The
results were not pretty! This experience illustrates how important
it is to recognize that faculty are not the only academic
professionals who work to create a learning environment for
students. New faculty need encouragement to collaborate with
and to learn from the expertise of colleagues in student life,
admissions, career services, the library, and athletics. Space
needs to be created for faculty and students to interact outside
as well as in the classroom. Both e-mail and the proliferation
of coffee bars on our campuses have done much to facilitate
such interaction.
Institutions need to set up mission-consistent
expectations for new-faculty engagement with students. Once
again, faculty doors closed to students before tenure will
rarely open after. But in this second dimension of professional
identity, new faculty also need to be mentored--by both
faculty and staff colleagues--and given access to relevant
information about the specific students they will serve.
Cultivating a stake in one's
local institution
When I think about the stake faculty
have in a local institution, tenure comes immediately to mind.
Indeed, the willingness of an institution to make a lifetime
guarantee of employment to a faculty member would seem to
give that person a very large stake in the fortunes of the
institution. It also confers an obligation to understand and
work toward strengthening that institution. One of the damaging
consequences from increasing dependence on part-time and adjunct
faculty is that an institution will have fewer and fewer individuals
to do the important work of institution building--from
student recruitment and curriculum design, and student advising
and institutional governance, to staying connected to alumni.
Of course, "service work"
is often perceived to be the bane of faculty existence: something
to be avoided if possible, and if not, minimized to the bare
essentials.
In A New Academic Compact, the
Associated New American Colleges' faculty work project argues
for developing a different model of service work: the notion
of institutional citizenship. There we sketched out a model
of those areas from where faculty voices should be dominant
to those areas where faculty should be part of the conversation.
In all cases, however, it is important that the service work
that faculty are asked to do be consequential, that it make
a difference, and that it be recognized and rewarded.
Once again, the popular wisdom is to
protect untenured faculty from service work for as long as
possible, and then to have them serve on the most inconsequential
committee that takes up the least amount of time. I would
argue that this leads to tenuring a cohort of faculty who
are not well versed in the obligations of institutional citizenship
and who often spend their careers ducking rather than pitching
in--creating the apathetic faculty that so many administrators
complain about. As a senior colleague said to me, right before
he nominated me in my second year for the campus-wide curriculum
committee, "If you're going to be on a faculty
committee, you might as well be on one that does something!"
Susquehanna recently engaged in a self-study
for our Middle States reaccreditation review. As we set about
recruiting task force and subcommittee members, we purposefully
made sure that junior faculty were involved at every level.
We made this a widely collaborative process that fed directly
into our next strategic plan. This was an opportunity for
an entire cohort of new faculty to be involved in consequential
work that had them digging into all areas of the university
and making substantive recommendations for our future. We
are about to come out the other side, not just exhausted,
but having created an institutional culture where collaboration
on consequential university work is expected. And our newer
faculty have had a crash course in how Susquehanna operates--something
others have taken years to uncover and understand.
Not all new faculty are lucky enough
to arrive in the midst of accreditation work! However, the
earlier in one's career a faculty member is invited
to work on university projects of consequence, the more likely
that person will be to become a good institutional citizen.
In cultivating this dimension of professional identity, there
is no substitute for simply getting involved. However, I would
add the caveat that such experiences will end up being formative:
If the experience is frustrating and produces nothing of consequence
or if the recommendations made languish on the desks of administrators
forever, the end result will be to create cynicism and apathy
in a new generation of the faculty.
Cultivating a stake in higher
education
The last piece of professional identity
involves the ways in which institutions connect their faculty
to the larger context of higher education. The best place
to gain this context is by attending regional and national
meetings and workshops sponsored by the many higher education
organizations. Unless invited to do so by their institutions,
faculty rarely move outside their disciplinary organizations.
But much is gained when a faculty member is persuaded by an
administrator to consider such a venture. Faculty come to
understand how their institutions are like and unlike others--even
within the same educational niche. This may mean going home
with new ideas for solving old problems or with a new appreciation
for their own institution's strengths. It allows faculty
to place what had been perceived as unique or idiosyncratic
challenges into larger trends with larger possible solutions.
And when faculty are part of a team, the gains are even greater
as the group is afforded time and space away from campus to
work together--and often drink and eat together, creating
stronger bonds that translate into greater collaborations
upon return.
While our day-to-day focus is on our
own research, students, and institutions, we need collectively
to become a part of dialogues about higher education in our
society, about its place and value in our culture, and its
obligations to think together about the larger issues of access,
funding, K-12 collaborations, student learning, and so on.
The Greater Expectations project, for example, represents
one of those collective dialogues that illustrate the stake
we all have in articulating what we do and why it is important
to our society. This final dimension of professional identity
connects new faculty to the larger obligations of citizenship
and vocation.
Space for balancing and reinventing
oneself
The greatest challenge in constructing
a multidimensional sense of the professional self is figuring
out how to integrate these various dimensions into a whole
and not to be torn apart by them. The complete scholar learns
to balance these commitments and to move among them over the
course of a career in ways that are appropriate to individual
talents and inclinations and to institutional circumstances
and needs. It is also clear that we cannot expect new faculty
to be complete scholars when they walk in the door. But we
can think carefully about how to give them the opportunities
early in their careers to cultivate a full professional identity--with
a stake in a discipline, in students, in our local institutions,
and in higher education as a whole--so that some thirty-five
years later they too will be celebrated as complete scholars.
Linda McMillin is provost at Susquehanna
University.
To respond to this article, e-mail liberaled@aacu.org,
with the author's name on the subject line.
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