Wednesday, September 04, 2024

Celebrating the Yes while respecting the No

My administrative position periodically requires me to ask people to do things--voluntarily--for the good of the institution, and lately I keep getting two contrasting responses. The problem is that I sympathize strongly with both.

These are tough times in academe, with professors facing increasing expectations and diminishing rewards. We've lost so much in the past few years--respect, raises, benefits, awards, funding for academic programs and professional development, colleagues whose positions have been cut, access to office supplies (who will order those green gel pens I love so much?), all the perks that made our professional lives more pleasant. Rampant staff cuts mean fewer people are available to do essential work, so everyone who remains has to work harder than ever, often without adequate training or compensation. 

So when I ask someone to assist with a project, I'm not surprised to be told, "No, I'm not doing anything extra for the College this year. I'm just teaching my classes and going home." I can respect that. We all have our own ways of coping with trauma, and I can easily recall times when I've needed to sentence myself to the Timeout Box just to survive the stresses of the job.

But I'm also getting plenty of Yeses. In fact, I'm amazed at the number of colleagues who are still willing to share their expertise at a workshop or participate in a program that requires a lot of effort without additional compensation. While some colleagues need to disengage from the College and limit their efforts to fulfilling their minimal requirements and no more, others are stepping up in big ways and small.

Here's an example: staff cuts mean that I have to pay more attention to budgets than ever before, tasks I have always preferred to delegate to people who don't break out in hives at the sight of a spreadsheet. This has been a struggle. I am okay handling numbers but I couldn't get the budget technology to work, something I was reluctant to admit to anyone in a position to help me, because how pathetic is it to have a PhD and decades of teaching experience but still be unable to access the spreadsheet showing my grant budget? But last week I overcame my shame and asked for help, and a very busy person in an essential administrative position came to my office to guide me through the process step by step.

I so appreciate colleagues who say Yes that I've been trying to say it to others, although sometimes all I can offer is I don't know. My office door is sometimes the only one open early in the morning, so I get a lot of questions that previously would have been the purview of the administrative assistant whose position was eliminated. Where are the spare batteries for the classroom clickers? (Not in my office--but I'll gladly walk down the hall to show you the secret stash.) Where do we keep the staples for the photocopier? (No idea, and don't ask me how to replace the toner either.) Who will bake cookies for this English major event since our catering budget is nonexistent? (I guess that would be me, but I'm not above volunteering a colleague to help.)

In times of trouble, I try not to be judgmental. Those who need to limit their engagement and tell me No get no grief from me. But in an atmosphere of No, each individual Yes makes me want to stand up and cheer. Hurrah for the Yeses! I'm collecting as many as I can right now before everyone gets so burned out that there's nothing left but a big fat No.

2 comments:

nicoleandmaggie said...

Hi! I have a PhD in economics and a BA in math and I grew up with computers. Any time I can't understand or get access to a program, I KNOW it is the program's fault. I feel zero shame asking for help. It happens a LOT with these terribly designed academic programs. It isn't you.

There's a great book on the design of things which talks about how if something isn't obvious, it is never the user's fault. It is always the designers fault. Things *should* be obvious and if they aren't that's a fault of the program, not the end user. A really good example of this in the book is when you try to pull a push door or vice versa-- there should be a handle if it is pull and no handle if it is push (like the Midvale school for the gifted Farside cartoon)-- if they have to put a sign up, then the design has failed.

Bev said...

Well that is encouraging. From now on I'll be sure to blame the designers when I'm struggling. Just today I mastered the art of submitting a requisition, a process that was the opposite of obvious. Good thing I had an experienced guide.