Semester in review and students as change agents

Originally posted at www.21stcenturyscholar.org

The semester is ending. Students are submitting papers. Professors are grading papers. And, hopefully, all had a great four months. As I reflect, I am thankful for a challenging and rewarding semester. I am grateful to have a career that allows me—via research, teaching, and service—to interact with an array of people and, along the way, to become a better professor and person.

And yet, as we look back, it is impossible not to think about many troubling events that have occurred, from mass shootings to blatant racism. Across the world, people are experiencing repeated acts of symbolic and physical violence. Most believe the current state of affairs needs to change. However, judging from national dialogue, there seems to be little agreement about how to do so. More locally, reading my Facebook feed has become a schizophrenic act. One person frustratingly posts about a blustery demagogue; another frequently retweets memes about the right to bear arms. There seems to be a heightened amount of political and ideological strife. More than anything, there seems to be quite a bit of prostrate frustration.

Maybe I’m naive, but I still believe in our capacity to create a better world. Two weeks ago, my students reminded me why and, perhaps, how.

In class, we discussed an article by Jeannie Oakes and Martin Lipton about school reform as a social movement. An overwhelming amount of leadership lit talks (very rosily) about the importance of consensus building and collaboration—and we read some of the work earlier in the semester. Oakes and Lipton’s point is that, if we are serious about equity, we have to acknowledge that it's not in everyone's best interests. Positive change is conflict-based. It requires leaders to adopt a grassroots mentality to bring attention to and contest racist, sexist, classist, xenophobic, and a variety of other prejudiced actions and policies that are reaffirming inequities in our schools and neighborhoods. I was blown away by how respectful, thoughtful, and passionate students were when discussing the topic. There are so many negative examples of injustice occurring across the country and world right now. It would be an easy out for students to be cynical.

Most of the students in the class are aspiring school leaders. It was our last in-person class of the semester. We've talked before about the challenges of being a principal, balancing professional and personal responsibilities. A district mandate may not always be in the best interest of students. But, if you choose to advocate for students or teachers and believe in social justice, that may also put your job in jeopardy. That's not easy for a variety of reasons, especially considering family and financial obligations.

It was such a great moment as students acknowledged that they want to and have to be the ones to ensure equitable opportunities for all students. It was such a pleasure to be a part of their conversations during the semester, to see them challenge and learn from each other. And, it's reaffirming to know they're working in our schools and for our students.

Happy holidays and cheers to a new year.

Mentoring graduate students, part 2

Discovery is central to graduate education. Students explore new ideas and challenge old beliefs. They practice complex skills and interact with an array of scholars. But, from reading a professor’s trenchant feedback to narrowing your dissertation focus, the process is not always glamorous. Here are a few resources to ease the journey:

Purdue Owl APA Formatting and Style Guide

Let’s start with some basic facts: APA guidelines are weird, quirky, and illogical. Here’s another fact: Every paper you submit should conform to the conventions. They provide the template for social science papers. When students deviate, professors notice. If you submit a paper that looks like an e.e. cummings poem, it won’t end well. I promise.

APA publishes a style guide. However, there are plenty of free resources. Purdue’s Online Writing Lab provides the best.

Tips: First, use the search box to find topics. If you’re looking up the rules for three levels of headings, rather than navigating through menus, search for “headings.” Second, check out the sample paper. It provides examples of some of the more unique conventions, like running headers.

Education Commission of the States (ECS) and Politico Morning Education

ECS and Politico send daily emails. ECS aggregates news reports. Politico reviews policy news. Read both to stay informed and to think about possible dissertation topics.

Tip: Many schools, along with research associations and divisions, distribute updates via email. For instance, USC provides several news related updates. AERA’s Division J (edited by Pullias’ very own Dan Maxey) sends news about jobs, fellowships, and publication opportunities. Subscribe.

The Chronicle of Higher Education

The Chronicle serves two critical functions. First, the site provides a great mix of news and opinion about higher education. Second, it publishes job listings. Check the news to stay up-to-date. Read the blogs to learn from experts. And, peruse the job listings to get a sense of the current market.

Tip: The Chronicle uses paywalls. To obtain full access, login through your university’s library portal.

Twitter

Many, many years ago (like five), Bill and I incorporated Twitter into our qualitative methods class. Some students wondered about usefulness. Back then, the social networking site felt a little bit like a high school Dungeons and Dragons party. The cool kids were few and far between. Now, Twitter feels more like a college house party full of unique and diverse people. Twitter is an essential tool for graduate students. Participate in chats. Communicate with top scholars. Follow people and organizations. Receive news and updates. Conduct research. Share findings. Extend your reach.

Tips: Choose a professional name. Tweet regularly.

Mentoring graduate students, Part 1

I love Shakespeare. No. Wait. That’s not quite right. I really love Shakespeare. 

As an undergrad student, I read most of his plays and all of his sonnets. I visited the Folger Shakespeare Library. I studied literary criticisms. I enrolled in as many Brit Lit classes as possible. And, I constantly thought about his lines and ideas.

As a first-year English teacher, I assumed everyone shared my enthusiasm. Who wouldn’t want to read the greatest play ever written? It’s Hamlet! 

Teenagers. That’s who. Iambic pentameter and arcane words aren’t always the best attention grabbers. Rookie mistake. I quickly learned my lesson. For Shakespeare—and most of the texts from my former district’s dusty curriculum—the keys to engagement and learning were relevance and connection. My students wanted to know why something was important and how it connected to their lives. Once we answered those questions, more often than not, my students excelled. They began teaching me new things about The Scottish Play.

My experience as a grad student and now professor has not been that different. While I love reading Durkheim, de Certeau, or Lefebvre on a Saturday night, I understood that that’s not everyone’s idea of a weekend well spent. Students have different motivations for attending grad school, and context really matters. My academic experiences as a part-time master’s student at Hopkins and full-time teacher in P.G. County diverged significantly from my experiences as a full-time Ph.D. student and part-time research assistant at USC. Similarly, my involvement probably would have been very different if I had kids.

As a professor, I always try to remember my experiences as a high school teacher. At every step, I wonder: How can I connect the content to the lives of my students, and why is it relevant? I often use backward mapping. In other words, what will students need to write an excellent dissertation or become an outstanding school leader?

Of course, all students need a foundational knowledge, even if that includes dense, obscure texts by brilliant French theorists. But, relevance should always be clear.

In my next blog, I’ll discuss some basic resources that all beginning graduate students should know and use.

Have Ph.D. will travel. (Part 2)

Because newly minted Ph.D. graduates far outweigh the number of tenure-track positions [read about the sobering statistics here], many will have to travel if they want a job in academia. 

From my own experiences with friends and colleagues, graduate students deal with the possibility in different ways. Some have families and friends and roots. Travel is not an option. Others reluctantly and gradually accept the fact that they may have to relocate. The promise of returning often comforts them. Another group embraces the opportunity. Moving is going back home (or at least closer to home). Or, moving means they have achieved another career goal.

At some point or another, I think I fit into each of the categories. When I first arrived to Los Angeles, I couldn’t wait to leave. After a few years in Silver Lake, I had a dog, a girlfriend, friends, a favorite gym, a favorite record store, and any number of delicious taco stands equidistant from my apartment. Just like the other Randy, I would sing “I love LA” at Dodgers’ games. Then, after four years, I was also ready for the next step and felt honored and excited when I was offered a job at St. John’s and provided the opportunity to move to New York.

In August, my wife, dog, and I moved. Moving from one coast to another includes a lot of implications, some obvious, others not so obvious. 

Perhaps, unsurprisingly, the biggest adjustment for my wife and I has been the housing situation. New York is unlike anywhere I’ve lived before. I remember an economics professor discussing non-price rationing. He used New York as an example. Because the demand outweighs the supply, people get apartments through non-price methods like friends. That’s true. What else is true? People get apartments through gigantic broker’s fees. If you want a non-fee apartment, your options shrink drastically. My wife and I found a cute loft in Greenpoint, a hip area in Brooklyn. At the time, after walking around NYC for three straight days in mid-August and looking at teeny tiny apartments with glaring defects (a.k.a. roaches), we thought we found a gem. For the first two months, there wasn’t a week where one of us didn’t have to call (and then wait for) the super for some sort of problem. Long story short, if you are moving to a different city, prepare for a break-in period. 

In terms of research, new jobs and new cities pose all sorts of opportunities. Finding the opportunities, however, requires deliberate action. If you live in a place long enough, you develop connections and local knowledge. Reflect on past experiences and use them to inform your next steps in a new town or city. For instance, who are the experts in your area of research? Are there any major research centers? Who are the major foundations? Who are the major non-profits or community-based organizations?

In terms of your new job, expect that most of your colleagues want you to succeed. Plan lunches with senior faculty members. Ask questions. Universities also have new faculty events. Go to them. Network with new professors in different disciplines. 

Lastly, you don’t have to wait until the fall to begin getting to know your school. If you sign a contract now, have lunch or coffee at AERA with a faculty member. Ask about the local school system. What are the challenges and opportunities? Also, search for future colleagues on Twitter. Start to get a sense of the culture of your school. Moving and changing jobs is a learning process. Start early.

Have Ph.D. Will travel. (Part 1)

As May approaches, Ph.D. candidates are scrambling to submit dissertation chapters to their committee chairs. At the same time, many have heard or are eagerly waiting to hear from search committees regarding potential jobs. Some even have job offers.

During a hectic time, the negotiation process only adds to the hubbub. Here’s some advice:

• Take a deep breath. 
• Talk to your advisor.
• Take another deep breath.
• Ph.D. candidates are often ambitious people. You will undoubtedly consider how each and every aspect of the offer will impact every minute of your life for the next 30 years. Don’t. 
• Identify the negotiables and non-negotiables. Maybe the university does not have a lot of wiggle room in terms of salary. However, they may be able to offer a reduced course load or extra funds for research or travel.
• Countless questions will run through your head: Why did they only offer $66,000? Glassdoor.com shows the average salary for assistant professors at So and So U is $75,000. Is the dean shortchanging me? Can I get more for moving costs? What about the teaching load? Work on getting the best package possible, but also consider the big picture. At the beginning of the process, Bill told me, “The first raise is the biggest raise.” A little later, he also said, “Do you want to be known as the new guy who is a diva?” In the long run, do you want to go to the mat for a $2,000 difference between what you would like and what they are offering? You may decide “yes.” But, understand the reasons why.
• Get the offer in writing. Some universities use a standard contract. The dean will put any negotiated items in a separate letter.
• If the job offer isn’t what you expected, the negotiations aren’t going well, and you didn’t have a great experience during the job talk, maybe you should consider other options. Don’t feel trapped.  
• Last, if you accept the offer, allow yourself to celebrate. Having a Ph.D. and a job are quite the accomplishments. 

In my next post, I will discuss what happens when you move from one place to another.

Graduating in time

I have played a musical instrument nearly everyday since the time I was in elementary school. In reality, the first four—clarinet, saxophone, trumpet, and guitar—were in preparation to play the last one, the drums. My mom would rather listen to a squeaky clarinet or out-of-tune guitar than a loud drum set. But, as it turned out, I was much more persistent than she anticipated and, after years of pleading and playing other instruments, she and my dad begrudgingly bought me a drum set for Christmas. As most musicians will tell you, they were born for a specific instrument. I was born for the drums.

When I moved from DC to LA, I did not bring my beautiful tangerine dream sparkle-covered drum set. I figured my neighbors in the apartment complex—for the same reasons my mom protested for years—would not appreciate the joys of acoustic drumming. For the first year in LA, I went without drumming and then I could go no longer. I purchased an electronic drum set—something I swore I would never do—and started taking lessons.

When I first met my drum instructor, I explained my situation. I was a Ph.D. student with little spare time, but I was also a musician who needed some sort of artistic outlet. In turn, he was clear about his expectations: I needed to practice everyday even if it was only for five minutes. We scheduled our lessons for Saturday nights; that was the time I could rationalize in my brain for allowing myself a ninety-minute break from reading or writing.

During that first lesson, and for a month afterwards, my instructor would not let me practice on the drum set. I practiced using two sticks and a practice pad, just like my dad taught me when I was eight. After I met my instructor’s rudimental benchmarks, I moved on to the drum set. I have progressed similarly over the past three years. He has set goals, and I have met them. He has given unclear assignments and, even when I was not sure of the point, I completed them. The process has not been without hurdles. My instructor has not been shy about critiquing me when I have not met expectations. Those moments have been defeating, and also motiving.

Since our first meeting I have tried to practice every day and make a lesson at least every other week. Sometimes my schedule has not permitted, but most times I have made it. Even on my second date with the woman whom I am going to marry in a few weeks, I left early to go to drum practice. To which, she replied, “Who goes to a drum lesson on a Saturday night!?!” Fortunately, she agreed to a third date. 

As a result of my lessons, I am a vastly improved musician today compared to when I started three years ago.

What is the point? The relationship between a music instructor and student is much like the relationship between an advisor and an advisee. That is something I gathered early on. Both assign tasks. Both set high expectations. Sometimes they set them knowing you will fail. Sometimes expectations only become clear after a lot of struggling. But always, they set incrementally higher benchmarks in order for you to succeed in the long-term. 

The relationship, at its core, is built on trust. A student gives up a lot of himself or herself in the belief that all of the hardship will lead to his or her betterment. That is a lesson I learned from my advisor and, as a result, I am a better for it.