You can't make this stuff up

On Saturday I write a mini-manifesto about my profession while sitting on my couch drinking coffee. 

On Monday I get an email from the National Academic Advising Association inviting me as part of a underrepresented (AKA not old white guys) population of academic advisors, to consider applying for the Emerging Leaders Program.  

The ELP partners current members with various NACADA leaders in a mentor/mentee relationship for 2 years of intentional professional development with the express goal to groom aspiring NACADA leaders.

I thought about it for all of a minute and knew I had to apply. 

I'm totally okay with being groomed. One step closer to world domination.

Here's a sneak peak at what I'm thinking about for the intro to my statement of intent:

"In the fall of 2006, I attended my first National Academic Advisor Association annual conference in Indianapolis, Indiana with a colleague from my office. I had recently taken on the role of professional academic advisor and thought attending the annual conference of the national association would be a great way to learn more about the standards of the profession.  Five years and four national conferences later, I grow even more passionate about advising and have found my place in a life-long profession."

It's kind of mushy. I kind of like that.

It's kind of wordy. I do not like that.

At least I have some initial thoughts down and time to think about this some more.

SAMB: Saturday AM Blog

I didn't know a lot about college life growing up. Neither of my parents went to college, nor did my grandparents, aunts, uncles or the majority of my cousins as far as I know, except one.  Fortunately, the one cousin who did go to college, went to a really good one and after that, worked at really good ones and raised me with the assumption that I was headed to college after high school. I wanted to go far away, to the same college as one of my best friends in high school but my family couldn't afford it, so I stayed close which really was one of the best things thats happened to me. (Its great how in telling a story retrospectively you can summarize months teen angst, fighting, and drama down to "so I stayed close.")

College campuses are amazing places. I admit I'm spoiled because my alma mater and current place of employment is a recognized botanical garden but its not just historical structures and landscape design, its what happens in the environment. Although many parents consider sending their child(ren) off to college a gut wrenching loss, one which they may or may not survive, the best part of my year is fall semester when a new freshman class sends their parents back home and happily begin college life. The majority of the time, everyone adjusts. Students find their place in the community and parents adjust, well some parents can tend to have a harder time letting go than their student, but thats different story.

I have always enjoyed school because the structure, order, and rules make sense to me. It feels safe in that environment because I trust that someone is thinking about what is best for me as a student.  This particular Saturday morning I woke up thinking about what it could look like for me to complete a PhD program in something. I hope for the remainder of my professional career, I'm involved with higher education in some way. I want to make sure future generations of students know that someone is looking out for their best interests when it comes to learning. So when I'm feeling dreamy I get out the Google machine and look at programs in Higher Education Administration, Education Policy, Communication, Public Policy, English, Student Affairs, Sociology and whatever looks good that day.

Its a fun project, until I think about taking classes called "Research Methods" AKA Statistics and writing a dissertation but not really writing it, just starting it and ending up with the letters ABD (All But Dissertation) instead of PhD and then I panic and stop but it really is fun up until that point.

Bedside manner

I've had a number of pretty random appointments with medical professionals recently.  The one I cannot shake from my memory is my visit the doctor who stopped mid sentence to check his Blackberry and then had a hard time remembering where we left off. Really!?! REALLY!?! And then there was they doc who definitely seemed drunk or high or both and avoided answering any direct questions regarding my ailment.  I'm typically going in blind, selecting someone off of the approved insurance provider list or in the above cases, being rolled over to one of the other members of the practice when my primary care physician is too busy so no telling who is going to walk through the door.

In all of that, it occurred to me that as I work with students in my day job, I have a heightened awareness of my own manner.  When someone walks into my office, I want them to feel as comfortable here as I do.  Now I'm wondering if I can do more to creating a caring, inviting and safe space by what I say and how I interact. Many students come in overwhelmed by life and intimidated to be in the office of another adult who may very well treat them like a child.

I want to grow in the practice of thoughtful advising. Just as I relate to a friend or colleague with their concerns, I want to show care and concern to my students.  I want my bedside manner to be just as desirable as my knowledge and professionalism. I can think of many examples where I have been given correct information, in what could be perceived as a brash manner and I don't want to be that guy.

So, first step: Choose to actually give a rip about my job and those who rely on me to do it. I think that is a good place to begin.