 Pittsburgh’s dialect has its own rhythms and words. I still remember some of them. Rubber bands were gum bands. Soft drinks were pop. Soda was pop with ice cream, and tennis shoes were any kind of Keds or Converse sneakers.
Yinzers also have their own way of pronouncing words. My brother Howard’s name was pronounced, “Haired” with a nasal emphasis. Everyone knew my brother as Chooch after the Mets catchers Choo-Choo Coleman. I hadn’t realized till writing this paragraph that he might have encouraged the nickname, because a nasally spoken “Haird” is an unpleasant sound. I still suffer linguistic deficiencies from being born in the Burgh by not being able to pronounce the difference between full and fool or pool and pull. As you can imagine, people hearing fool when you meant full can have interesting consequences. When my family moved to Connecticut when I was twelve, I ordered a strawberry soda expecting a delectable ice cream soda. A glass of strawberry pop was delivered to my table. That was the first time I realized that finding belonging in a new community might be more difficult than I imagined. It was also quite a challenge to find hoagies in the grinder sandwich shops. As someone who values routine, these simple things rocked my world. But I did grow to love grinders and now have no problem calling Sprite Zero a soda. There is a reason I opened this piece talking about food. It was often really hard for me to order at restaurants for much of my life because I stuttered. Ordering food or being asked a question in class can make me feel in the spotlight that I wasn’t prepared for. When put in those situations, my stuttering genes were activated- words would not come out of my mouth. My heart sunk as I could see the impatience of the server or the teacher. I felt the weight of a thousand eyes looking at me wondering what the heck was wrong with me. It felt like hours sometimes before I could get any word out. Sometimes others would grow so frustrated they would just shut me off and replace my word with what they thought I was trying to say, which was often wrong. The harder I tried, the less likely it was for a word to be vocalized. Once the word came out, I experienced a sense of relief like a patient who just had their ventilator removed. I also had to shrug off embarrassment and shame of not being able to order a Coke. I have some memories of how much that stung. But stuttering happened daily, and my brain became tolerant of linguistic torture. I think one of the advantages of being autistic is having no clue of how anything I do, including stuttering, might affect other people. Also, although I am very insecure about people liking me or recognizing me as a talented professional, I tend not to care what they think of personal characteristics like how I dress, a huge stain on my shirt, what my hair looks like, and I probably worry less than a more neurotypical person might worry if they stutter I still occasionally stutter these days, but I rarely notice it. I was never really treated for it. I guess I just grew out of it. Yet, sometimes, when I least expect it, the server will ask for my order and I experience my vocal cords freezing up as I try to order a hamburger. For some reason I never stutter when giving a presentation or when teaching a class. I have no idea why. Some might say I am just masking then, but I don’t feel that way. In any case, I can happily report that although stuttering was not great for my self confidence, it did not seem to hinder my career at all. My autism diagnosis made me wonder whether twirling my hair and pulling it out, banging my head to go to sleep, or endless tickling my nose and stuttering, and deficiencies in social interactions were cognitively related to each other through autism. One might think that a link between autism and stuttering would have been extensively studied since both can affect the well-being of children. I assumed that other kids with autism would be like me, so that they would also stutter. So, I turned to Google Scholar to look for a scientific review paper on the subject, or at least a couple of primary scientific studies. The first paper I found was from Kristen Rollins, Natalie Pak, Michelle Hite, and Nathan Maxfield published in October 2025 in the International Journal of Language and Communication Disorders1. Let me remind you that the paper was published in 2025. I mean 2025 and just last month!! So, imagine my dumbfounded surprise when I read the first sentence, “It is documented that children who stutter, as well as children with autism, may experience diminished well-being relative to children without these conditions. In contrast, almost nothing is documented about well-being of children living with both conditions, most likely because such children are relatively rare and thus challenging to study as a group.” Read that again “almost nothing is documented.” The paper used survey data and found that children with autism and stuttering reported more difficulty in six characteristics of wellbeing- related to emotional symptoms, peer relationships, hyperactive behavior, and overall conduct than children who only have autism and those that only stutter. Another paper in July 2025 by Hannah Polikowski et al in Nature Genomics2 examined genomic relationships. They found specific gene loci that validated the heritability of stuttering. They also showed a genetic link of stuttering with autism, depression, and impaired musical rhythm. I have three of the four—I do pretty well with music, but watching my father try to keep a beat was like a great Saturday Night Live skit. My dad didn’t stutter though he was likely neurodiverse. I found again that Google AI seems to be way ahead of actual research. Citing a web page from “Golden Care Therapy,” it answered the question “are stuttering and autism related?” with great confidence. The AI overview that came up read “Yes, stuttering is linked to autism, with studies showing that stuttering may be more common in autistic individuals than in the general population. This connection is supported by evidence of shared genetic factors, increased rates of stuttering in autistic people, and the co-occurrence of speech disfluencies in both conditions. The link may be due to a variety of factors, including speech and language processing difficulties, anxiety, and genetic influences.” The overview goes on to make many seemingly certain statements, including information for the genomics study I mentioned above, but citing its conclusions with more certainty than the authors did. Google AI also indicated that around 4% of people with autism also stutter, while those without autism have a stuttering rate of 1%, which seems counter to the paper I cited above and did not have a reference. Google AI, however, did make me feel like my question wasn’t stupid since its answer was very consistent with what I thought the relationship might be. Yet, I must give Google AI another F grade in my class since it relied on a website that did not cite primary scientific literature for its conclusions. I am sensing that there is a problem with communication about autism. Science seems to be communicated on websites or AI to the public with much more certainty than the research actually demonstrates on Google, on web sites, and in posts I see in social media. So, here is a plea to those of you who write about autism. Please do me a favor- if you write on Substack or create websites and you make strong statements about links between autism and anything, please cite at least a few peer reviewed papers from the primary scientific literature for folks like me so we can get to the primary source. I am kind of anal that way. Sorry for going off track. Let’s get back to stuttering. I often think back to growing up. My typical autistic traits seem to be a part of me just like stuttering or my passion for the Pittsburgh Steelers. I can see now that all those traits have advantages and disadvantages. I may stutter in your presence. So, if you ask me a question, and you feel frustrated that I can’t get any words out, please resist the urge to stick your hands down my mouth and try pull the words out. The words always come even if it takes a few years. REFERENCES 1Rollins KN, Pak NS, Hite M, Maxfield ND. 2025. Well-Being of Children with Stuttering and Autism: A First Glance. International Journal of Language and Communication Disorders 60: e70146 https://doi.org/10.1111/1460-6984.70146 2Polikowsky HG, Scartozzi AC, Shaw DM, Pruett DG, Chen H-H, Petty LE, Petty AS, Lowther EJ, Cho S-H, You Y, 23 and me Research Team, Mozaffari S, Avery CL, Harris KM, Gordon RL, Beilby JM, Viljoen KZ, Jones RM, Huff CD, Highland HM, Kraft SJ, Below JE. 2025. Large-scale genome-wide analyses of stuttering. Nature Genetics. 57: 1835-1847. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41588-025-02267-2
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I can't believe it's true: recognition as a distinguished alum of Yale's School of the Environment10/25/2025  Today was an amazing day for me. I was recognized by the Yale School of the Environment as a distinguished alum. Yale's school was the first forestry school in the country, started by Gifford Pinchot. The alumni represent a "whose who" of people who have had major contributions to science and or the environment. I felt totally like an imposter. But, it was also extraordinarily meaningful for me. I was able to give a 2000 word talk. I chose to talk about the changing shape of meaning as my career progressed. It seemed like it was well received.
You can see the slides and the script here, though I didn't follow the script completely. My career has definitely been a journey. But, it would never have happened without Yale and my co-advisor from the Cary Institute of Ecosystem Studies, Clive Jones. Here is the original news release.  Consider this shameless self-promotion. Below are a few reader comments on the stories that I have posted (see link in comments). I hope to eventually weave these stories into a humorous but insightful memoir (Pathologically Genuine) of navigating the world as a late-diagnosed autistic person. I need all the feedback, critical or positive, and/or encouragement I can get.
Read my work here. ➡️ "Jim Coleman’s story is not just about autism or stuttering it’s about the quiet courage of showing up in a world that often misunderstands. His words carry the weight of lived experience, and you can feel the ache in moments like trying to order a Coke or being stared at in class. Yet, there’s humour, warmth, and a deep sense of self woven through every paragraph. He doesn’t ask for sympathy he offers insight, connection, and a gentle challenge to be more patient, more curious, more human. His reflections on language, identity, and scientific gaps are both personal and universal. This piece doesn’t just inform it moves you." ➡️ Your posts, including your pathologically genuine work via your links on here, is absolutely amazing. I was diagnosed autistic at 19, 3 years ago, and this is the first time I have genuinely related to someone about how they experience it. Obviously, we will still all have differences, but I really enjoy reading your work and I hope you continue! ➡️ Jim, your humor shines. It not only made me smile but also helped me feel the heart behind your words. That’s a rare gift: the ability to carry both laughter and empathy in the same line. Please keep writing; you never know how far your words may reach. ➡️ Your prose is absolutely captivating. You really do have a gift for writing nonfiction like this piece here. ➡️ You had me laughing at the start and near tears by the end, with a solid bit of learning in the middle. I am really enjoying learning about the autistic experience through your posts. But most of all, I'm enjoying learning more about you! Keep it up Jim, I'm excited to read what comes next (probably weeks after you post it). ➡️ The authenticity you bring to the table is so refreshing, and it really helps break down the barriers we all face. Being able to embrace who we truly are, without fear of judgment, is a powerful thing. I'm looking forward to diving deeper into your posts and gaining more insights. Your perspective is a reminder that we all have our own paths, and the beauty lies in accepting and understanding that. Keep shining! ➡️Love the authentic and heartfelt way you write. ➡️Keep writing because I love everything you post! :) ➡️I really enjoyed reading your article. I felt so calm reading it, you write beautifully. I found your line “normality won” so moving and sad and frustrating, I so wish normality could lose. ➡️You have a very interesting story, and I can’t wait to see more pieces like this. ➡️You are a wonderful writer and you have a story that needs to be shared. ➡️Another great post Jim! I love your humor as a way to teach. I think lots of people have stimming behaviors, some more obvious than others. It's a great way to calm your mind and only mildly distracting to those around you :) ➡️I have several friends, acquaintances, and students on the autism spectrum. Knowing them heightens the pleasure I take in the insights you reveal in your posts. It appears that this relatively recent vantage on your identity has given you not just fresh perspectives but an instance of authentic anagnorisis: an opportunity few people in their lifetimes ever experience….I read your posts with much empathic engagement. I am very grateful you've given me this window into your funny, nimble, subtle mind. ➡️Thank you for sharing so openly. I really admire the way you put words to the differences between introversion and autism it helps me understand more clearly what that feels like from the inside. I think it’s powerful that you’ve found writing as a way to mix humor with information. That kind of voice is rare and very needed ➡️….. The authenticity you bring to the table is so refreshing, and it really helps break down the barriers we all face. Being able to embrace who we truly are, without fear of judgment, is a powerful thing. I'm looking forward to diving deeper into your posts and gaining more insights. Your perspective is a reminder that we all have our own paths, and the beauty lies in accepting and understanding that. Keep shining! ➡️I enjoyed reading your chapter about autism and pets. Clearly it is heartfelt and full of your own unique voice! The way you weave in humor, like the pet rock and Wilson the volleyball references, made me laugh and really drew me into the rest of your story. Your love for dogs, especially Brea, shines through, and the research you included about pets improving the well-being of people with autism is very informative and much appreciated. It is clear how much dogs have supported you, and your honesty about your experiences as an autistic person makes this piece incredibly relatable. ➡️Can’t wait to read the book. You are whip smart and witty and your analogies are spot on. Beautifully written Jim, I'm exited to read more as you write it! ➡️You had me laughing at the start and near tears by the end, with a solid bit of learning in the middle. I am really enjoying learning about the autistic experience through your posts. But most of all, I'm enjoying learning more about you! Keep it up Jim, I'm excited to read what comes next (probably weeks after you post it). ➡️Jim, this post is a gem all the way through. It doesn't tackle too many themes, and educates and entertains in the same breath. Your sense of appropriate length for the subject is right on, and you build suspense--or the sense of an impending payoff--with the occasional short foreshadowing sentence. They are compelling…..In the meantime, you find vigorous and refreshing language to describe common behavior or everyday events. I think this is another one of your gifts--and maybe autism gives you a unique perspective on life and living that others are missing? This is the joy I have in reading your posts. You break me out of my own tired relationship with the world and show me a shining truth right in front of me.  I have moved my writing to Substack. The links and titles to new posts can be found in the Blog Table of Contents. I hope you might consider subscribing to my Substack page.
Although there might be an occasional post on higher ed, I will be using Substack to write more humorous pieces, and to develop my "book project"- Pathological Genuine. This project will involve telling my story of navigating the academic world as an autistic person in a humorous way. I hope you might take a look. The Preface post on Substack on this topic is Pathologically Genuine: An autistic journey  This blog is an endurance test for readers.
A month ago, I participated as a speaker in my last graduation ceremony as a full-time faculty member. I've been on the platform in over fifty ceremonies. I also walked as a graduate in two, was in the audience for my brother's two ceremonies, my stepson's two ceremonies and ceremonies for my niece. I loved every one of them. And I hated every one of them, too. I'm fickle. I have to admit, though, that the act of graduating is one of the major milestones in a person's life. It is easy for me to love that part. Especially, teaching in a university with so many first-generation college grads. The ceremony was also the last time I will probably be sitting on the platform and saying (or singing) something into the microphone. The universe decided it needed to emphasize this point to me. When I tried to put on my robe for the ceremony, I learned that the slider and the teeth of the zipper of my robe had divorced after 35 years of successfully conjoining every May. They had apparently agreed, without telling me, that 2024 was their last ceremony. I can understand why my robe was a no show. Large university ceremonies have evolved into one last test of the endurance for students and families (and robe zippers). With an aging back and worried mind, endurance tests aren't my thing anymore. And, as I have grown older and cynical, this particular test seems to be more and more about people on the platform party and less and less about the students, families and friends in the audience. So, for the sake of posterity, let me impart my wisdom on the graduation endurance test from the perspective of an irreverent, cynical, but optimistic person. The first part of the test generally takes an hour or more. This initial test of endurance and the skills learned in one's curriculum include: 1) finding a parking space; 2) overcoming confusion and entering the venue through the correct door; 3) overcoming confusion again to get where one needs to go - one might need to line up for the procession or figure out where to sit ; and 4) waiting for what feels like several days for the ceremony to begin. The best part is the pomp and circumstance of the procession and its annual migration of the platform party and the graduates through the crowd filling the room with positive energy and/or sighs of relief that the ceremony started. There are lots of pictures taken (many on iPhones) during the procession. My image was probably in a few thousand of them. But it goes unrecognized with no royalty payments. In the next part of the ceremony, resilience of both mind and body is tested. For an hour or so, the audience will listen to several people talk. First, the chancellor/president will welcome everybody with some vacuous remarks of how great the institution is; how special, talented and resilient the graduates are; and the importance of the graduation milestone. If the university has a great music school, there will probably be a performance or two (which are always great). The chancellor/president might also call out 3-6 superhuman graduates to highlight in their remarks (sometimes the student stands among a sea of a few thousand) This makes the family and friends of those students very, very proud. Everyone else in the audience is in awe of the students. They are also left wondering why their graduate wasn't recognized and/or what those highlights have to do with them. If there are board members, legislators or news media in the audience, then the chancellor/president may have remarks aimed at them that have nothing to do with the graduating students or their families. At one of my stepson's graduations, for example, the President went on and on about the number of National Merit Scholars that would enroll in the next Freshman Class. The last thing that any students, families or friends in the audience were thinking about during graduation was the new freshman class, Geez. Methinks it can be challenging for chancellors/presidents to realize the graduation event is not about them. I mean it is one of the few chances they have to speak to thousands of people at one time and get rousing applause from most of, if not all. And, for some, it is the only time after the initial honeymoon that the local newspaper writes a positive story about them. There often are a few more speakers who will welcome everyone followed by the graduation speaker. Sometimes the graduation speakers are famous people or distinguished alumni who will weave their personal story into a bulleted list of advice for graduates. Some have well-articulated calls for action. Some probably deserve to be held for posterity in the Library of Congress. Many have brilliant quotes that find their way onto social media- for at least a couple of days. Then there might be some honorary degrees awarded that celebrate extraordinarily people who may have little to do with the university or the milestone being celebrated. Yet honorary degrees can make administrators, and some in the audience, proud that they can be associated with these accomplished individuals Those being honored have something to put on their CV and are transformed in that moment into a target for the university's development office (unless the honorary degree was already connected to their generosity). At some point (I have seen it in the beginning or end), somebody will also remind graduates that they are now alumni of the institution and that their donations will be happily accepted. Finally, the platform party gets to the business of conferring degrees with each dean presenting their graduates to the provost, who in turn presents all of the graduates to the president/chancellor. This was the favorite part of my job as provost. At Northern Arizona, I went off script during this part of the ceremony to say something like "this is the favorite part of my job" before presenting the graduates to the president. Every action has a reaction. The President's reaction was to tell several of my colleagues to warn me that I would be beheaded if I said that again in the next ceremony (NAU had four university ceremonies due to the size of the venue). This is true. Anyway, once the president/chancellor confers the degrees, the students and guests finally realize that the ceremony is actually about them. By this time, agony for students and their families shows on their faces. The room temperature has risen. Back pain has become a pandemic in the audience. And young children start announcing their displeasure by wailing. The next part of the ceremony can take two or more hours. Graduates get about ten seconds of fame when their name is called and they walk, prance, dance across stage, and their family friends delight with joy and pride. At my institution they move as quickly as possible with no hand shaking, hugs or fist bumping, Graduates aren't even handed a diploma cover. Nonetheless, graduates moving across the stage is great for everyone, at least for a few minutes. The only problem is that those ten seconds for an individual disappear in a heartbeat. The rest of the time is watching thousands of other students get their 10 seconds of fame without a diploma cover. It is a little-known secret, that iPhones and solitaire apps were actually invented as a tool for enduring a graduation ceremony. Nonetheless, everyone is happy at the end of the ceremony. They celebrated passing a milestone. They passed the hardest part of the endurance test and barely remember their aching back. They may have already forgotten everything that was said from the platform. The final act of the endurance test is finding one's way through a corn maze of people to meet one's family and friends. It is like finding a needle in a haystack. This challenge was another reason for the invention of the iPhones, text messages. Once everyone finds each other, there are several minutes of smiles, hugs and pictures taken on iPhones. This is followed by a difficult cognitive test: remembering where the car is parked, which has been made easier by apps on iPhones that find your car for you. Upon identifying, loading and starting the car, the encore of the final endurance exam begins- getting stuck in traffic with your relatives packed in one car worrying if your reservations for lunch and/or dinner will be held if you are late. People seem to think this a great tradition. As an autistic person, I have little reverence for traditions. But I still enjoy graduations despite my cynicism. However, I don't have the physical or mental endurance to sit through the large university ceremony as a faculty member. Faculty generally sit off to the side, in the front of the room, in uncomfortable folding chairs, where we can't hide our iPhones, And, we have to applaud senior administrators. PART 2 I am moving into phased retirement this Fall (August 2025). So, I was asked to be the speaker in our department's smaller ceremony. Our ceremony is short, but it occurs several hours after the more than three-hour university ceremony. So, those that come have Olympian endurance, or they just want a free diploma cover since they couldn't get one at the main ceremony, even though they had to pay a $65 fee to graduate. I was excited to do this. This might be surprising to you given what I wrote above. My cynicism is a bit hypocritical. During all that time I was on graduation platforms, I heard a lot of graduation speeches. Some were given by famous people who charged a lot of money to make a profound or funny speech. I thought most of the speeches were excellent in the moment. But I couldn't remember anything that any of them said within 24 hours of them saying it, and I only remember one of the speakers. I also don't remember the welcome remarks made by the chancellor/president or even ones I gave as a dean. I don't remember a single provost or president of the schools where I was a student. I do remember, though, most all of the faculty members I had as teachers, at least when I see or hear their name. In any case, I had two goals: short and memorable. I write songs for classes I teach and also tell stories or sing a song at the beginning of class so that students can get comfortable. Students seem to like that. So, that is what I did. Well, the first thing I did was to disrobe at the podium. I mean I took off my robe so I could play my guitar. I said about two hundred words and sang two songs. My advice to students was to be a tree. As a forestry major, I have an unusual fondness for trees. Why be a metaphorical tree?
The I sang John Gorka's song, "Branching Out." The first line is "when I grow up I'm gonna be a tree" and the last lines are "I'm going to reach for the sky. I am going to reach until I know why." Then I wished the students well. I grow very close to students in our program. I feel like those in my classes are part of my extended family (which grown by over 1,000 since Fall 2021). So, this is emotionally meaningful for me. I chose to play Bob Dylan's song "Forever Young", to express those wishes. I didn't tear up but thought I would. The captive audience of a few hundred people gave me roaring applause without any prompts. That will probably be the last time that happens. There were lots of fist bumps and hugs. Parents heard from me how wonderful their child was as a student. S It was great! The songs and words took only 11 minutes (You can view the whole thing here). But some might say that was 11 minutes too long. As I said above, though, everyone is happy after a graduation ceremony is over, even though that happiness has almost nothing anything to do with what the speaker did or said. Moving to phased retirement is one of the last milestones on the winding trail of life. Making it this far was its own endurance test for me. So, this was also a graduation ceremony of sorts for me. Just as with other graduation ceremonies, I loved it and hated it at the same time, You can watch and hear the delivery of these short remarks and the playing singing of two songs (only 11 minutes) here.
When I grow up, I'm gonna be a tree Make my home with the Birds and the Bees Squirrels they can count on me When I grow up, I’m gonna be a tree I’ll let my joints get stiff and put my feet in the ground Take winters off and settle down Keep my clothes till they turn brown When I grow up I’m gonna settle down I’m going to reach I’m going to reach I’m going to reach For the sky I’m going to reach I’m going to reach I’m going to reach Until I know why When Spring comes I’m gonna get really green When dogs come by I’m gonna get real mean On windy days, I'll bend and lean When I grow up I’m gonna get real green. If I should fall in storm or slumber Please don’t turn me into lumber I would rather be a Louisville Slugger Swinging for the seats. I’m going to reach I’m going to reach I’m going to reach For the sky I’m going to reach I’m going to reach I’m going to reach Until I know why
May God bless and keep you always May your wishes all come true May you always do for others And let others do for you May you build a ladder to the stars And climb on every rung May you stay forever young May you grow up to be righteous May you grow up to be true May you always know the truth And see the light surrounding you May you always be courageous Stand upright and strong May you stay forever young. May your hands always be busy May your feet always be swift May you have a strong foundation Should the winds of change shift May your heart always be joyful May your song always be sung May you stay forever young That's it. Congratulations!  My thoughts did a metaphorical boomerang today. I read a post on LinkedIn. The author made a very good anecdotal case for why academe needs a better culture of acknowledging and recognizing colleagues for their work beyond celebration of scholarship. They cited a specific example of work they did for their department that most definitely deserved recognition. Only one colleague, not the chair, reached out to acknowledge their effort and contribution. The acknowledgement was sincere and heartfelt and it meant the world to the author. And, the author was hurt by not being recognized by others.
I've been there- a lot. I know that feeling of emptiness and hurt that led me to feel like a victim of invisibility in both my "micro" role as a faculty member and in my "macro" role as a provost, VPR and Dean. So my initial reaction was "Right On!" Let's fight. But then I remembered one of the most impactful books to me I ever read- Braiding Sweetgrass. A key theme in that book is reciprocity. That act of remembering Braiding Sweetgrass caused my original thoughts to boomerang back, knocking me to ground after taking my legs out from under me, and causing me to say to myself, "Thanks, I needed that.". Below is a slightly edited comment I made to LinkedIn post. It's structure is kind of random, chronicling how my thoughts changed as I was writing- kind of like a winding road through a forest without a clear destination. But, in the end it led back to the age old axiom, "it is better to give than to receive." Here is an edited version of the comment to the LinkedIn post: I agree with the post (the LinkedIn post referred to above) below in most ways! And, I say that even though my career has been relatively successful and I have received positive individual recognition from bosses, peers (e.g, AAAS Fellow) and students. Although I wish we spent more time recognizing each other, I also know that academe is focused on individual not collective achievement. We are individually rewarded for our individual work as faculty--our most prized professional recognition is individual. So, it would be natural for us to focus on our ourselves, our individual achievements and our recognition as individuals more than our role in, and our appreciation of, an interconnected group of colleagues. Being on the autism spectrum, I can be blissfully, but sadly, unaware of what colleagues need. I've made an effort in the last couple of years to more often tell my colleagues, particularly the faculty that are not the leading scholars, how much they mean to the department. But, I need to be A LOT better at it. I am also insecure enough that I get hurt when my colleagues don't recognize my efforts- and I hurt a lot. Fortunately my chair recognizes me, and the comments I receive from students let me know that my efforts are meaningful to them. We have a culture of recognizing scholarly achievement in academe. And, scholarly achievement should be recognized. Still, I find it disconcerting, though, how little energy it takes to say something genuine to colleagues regarding their value outside of celebrating an award of some type, competitive grant, or a paper in an elite journal - and how little we (including me) find the energy to do it. But, then I thought about reciprocity. What if when I felt hurt or empty because I wasn't recognized for something, I responded by asking myself whether I recognized any of my colleagues recently for their efforts? And, if the answer was "no", might it be better for my own mental health to reach out to someone? "It is better to give than to receive" is an axiom we all know. With respect to acknowledgement, most of us like to be on the receiving end. And, we can be pretty sensitive when we think we should be on the receiving end but are not. For the culture to change to be more reciprocally supportive, we all need to live our values. Perhaps we should ask ourselves "who should I acknowledge today?" as opposed "who recognized me today?". All of us want to live in culture of genuine and reciprocal acknowledgement. It seems to be basic human nature, at least in western culture to be seen. For me it is really important that acknowledgement comes from the heart and is sincere (both in receiving and giving). I'd rather not get anything if the only other option is disingenuous acknowledgement. But, I know that to get genuine recognition, I have to give it, too. So, in the end, all of us who feel that we need a better culture of peer support and recognition have the power to change it. Postscript- After my first draft of this blog post I talked to my wife about its theme. She is a retired IT project manager. She told me a story of members of a project team she led who were getting frustrated because their efforts were not being recognized in their units. In those projects, there are team members that have jobs in many units across the organization and they are on the team to make sure the project is successful for their unit. They talked about the emptiness they felt due to not being acknowledged at one of their project meetings. A decision was made for everyone to think of a couple of people they should thank, perhaps resulting in reciprocity.. They bought thank you cards, personalized them, and sent them out. It became a regular activity at every meeting. My wife said that she was not sure whether the active sharing of gratitude led to any increased recognition of the members of her team by their colleagues. But, she found that the process of thanking people changed the whole attitudinal dynamic of team for the better. She told me that it was amazing to watch as the tone of meetings got more and more positive and how team members came into meetings having fun thinking about who to thank and the people that have been supportive, rather than feeling hurt about who didn't thank them. I will be on a mission now to see if this strategy works for me.  This blog is a response to a GREAT LinkedIn post by Kate Halpin on fatigue and neurodiversity.
I definitely related to everyone of the points made by Kate in the LinkedIn post regarding the many ways in which neurodiverse traits can lead to a sense of constantly feeling exhausted. And it is the kind of exhaustion that sleep won't fix. I have a couple of suggestions to add;
I am in my 60s now. I didn’t know I was on the autism spectrum until I was in my late 50s. For me, knowing that I was on the spectrum changed my life. It was exhausting feeling like I was metaphorically a messed up horse for 58 years. I felt set free upon discovering on assessment that I was actually a zebra. The first 58 years of my life felt like paddling upstream in a raging current. Now I kind of just float through the waves. A major strategy for how I now cope is accepting who I am and being comfortable in my skin. I am not shy to talk about being a person with autism and some of the traits I have. Fortunately, since I am late in my career, I have the freedom to just not deal with interactions that are exhausting, or worry that disclosing being on the autism spectrum could knock me off of a career trajectory. I know that early- and mid- career academics may not feel this freedom. I wish I had an answer to Kate's question about strategies for helping ease the exhaustion for neurodiverse people.. I don't. In teaching at a university, the students I talk to, including neurodiverse students, mostly want to be seen and understood. I get notes and course evaluation comments from students who seem to feel that my candor about my own mental health challenges, and my autistic superpower of not knowing how to be anything but genuine, creates a safe space where they feel cared about academically and as people. And, I know that the flexibility I use in things like due dates is appreciated by students. I guess that is a strategy. I try very hard (and I know I am not fully successful) to use the ideas that Columnist David Brooks wrote in an op-ed in the NY Times on May 26, 2022, "The fact is, moral behavior doesn’t start with having the right beliefs. Moral behavior starts with an act — the act of seeing the full humanity of other people. Moral behavior is not about having the right intellectual concepts in your head. It’s about seeing other people with the eyes of the heart, seeing them in their full experience, suffering with their full suffering, walking with them on their path. Morality starts with the quality of attention we cast upon another." "Seeing the full humanity of other people.... and casting quality attention upon each other" seem like the best strategy for supporting anybody. I am "pathologically genuine" and an autistic empath who can't help but care about students as if they are members of my extended family. These are two of my superpowers associated with autism. But, they also are and were two major sources of kryptonite, especially in my administrative career.  It's official!
I will begin phased retirement in Fall 2025. I am not surprised that the day this news became official was also the day of the largest drop of the S&P stock market index in a long time. The Yin/Yang of it all can get old. Timing was never a great skill set of mine. I am grateful, though, for having been one of the luckiest people on earth, even though there were times I most definitely was not grateful (and there a few people I won't ever forgive), and times where suicide seemed like a decent option. Don't be shocked by the suicide comment. In 1993, after an SSRI brough me out of a very dark place, I promised to always be honest about my mental health challenges as a way to destigmatize them. And, it turns out that being genuine and vulnerable about my challenges with depression and anxiety has allowed me to help a large number of students find support. Phased retirement means I will be 50% FTE for up to three years (which will still mean 30-40 hour weeks, but that is truly half time for me). Please know that my wife, Adele, would appreciate any support you can provide her during this transition. Don't worry about our dogs. They seem always happy to have me around. It also means I can focus on the only thing I really love about higher ed these days- teaching the kind of students that enroll at University of North Carolina at Greensboro and sharing my joy that arises from organismal, ecological and evolutionary biology and my research with undergraduates and graduate students. Those who have read my out of office messages or holiday letters know that I can write things that are funny with maybe just a tinge of profundity. My next projects are a few blogs with that humorous tone. Then, I want to write a piece/book of creative non-fiction regarding my journey through academe as a high functioning autistic person, titled "pathologically genuine" Also, for some reason totally unknown to me, my students like the songs I write and/or sing with my guitar in classes, even when there is no benefit for them. An executive coach once called me [positively] a golden retriever- and like my current golden Brea, I just really like to be liked. So, I will keep on writing, playing and singing for them. I have way too much experience in higher ed (40 years. 25 years of VPR, Dean and Provost in what feels like every institution in the country [ok. I exaggerate. it was only 12 including my undergraduate and graduate schools]). And that experience brought wisdom or derangement, depending on your perspective. I would be happy to share either or both with you, your colleagues, and/or your organization. I would also be honored if any colleagues wanted to engage me on issues around ecological and evolutionary physiology, student success, dealing with mental health issues as a faculty member, or talking about navigating academe as a high functioning autistic person. I feel like I have gained some wisdom on how to help students work towards reaching their full potential. I, actually not really me, but the people that worked with me, was/were pretty successful implementing institutional level tactics to improve standard measures of student success. More importantly, I professed and related to more than 1,000 undergraduates, since returning from the dark side of administration in 2021 [who I can't help but feel are part of my extended family]. As someone who is open about depression, anxiety and neurodiversity, I learned a lot about how we can best support students to facilitate them moving towards reaching their full potential. In recent panels where I spoke about my lived experiences as an autistic person, the audience seemed appreciative And, if Brea (our golden retriever) passes the therapy dog test in April 2025, she will be available to right all of the wrongs in your life. All you need to do is ask and she will heal you with her eyes as you pet her. There might be a small fee- like pretending to like me as much as you like Brea; saying something nice about what I did during my career; buffering my retirement accounts with your generosity, and/or buying 1,000 copies of Pathologically Genuine when it is available along with writing five star reviews on Amazon. For those of you that just muttered under your breath, "thank goodness, he's gone"- don't celebrate just yet, at least not in front of me. The eventuality of my being gone is the only thing that was certain when I was born, so you just need to hang on a little longer. Perhaps the hardest part of aging is skiing down an ever steepening slope right into the wall of irrelevance. There is a touch of irony that one hurdles head first into that wall, just as one says to themselves, "I finally get it!" I still hope that there is more to come. And, I am confident that Brea agrees- we all need a golden retriever sometimes to boost our hope.. I am an optimist at heart, even if I am a cynical one, so I am trying to take these lyrics from John Gorka's song "Morningside" to heart, recognizing that I am probably "a fool at this late date." Am I a fool at this late date To heed a voice that says, You can be great I heard it young, now I hear it again It says, you can be better than you′ve ever been..... I also know that there is still lots of time to experience the infinite awe of being part of the natural world that we share with other species who have a completely different reality- and a reality that will always be a mystery to us. Knowing there are an infinite number of realities (because organisms sense and process the world differently) is comforting to me. It's like imagining that there is a cool breeze somewhere in the world when one is melting in the excessive heat and humidity of a North Carolina swamp. And back, to John Gorka, "if I find hope in the fading light I'll see you on the Morningside" in lux perpetua, Jim  I agree with everything in this strong op-ed about the damage that will be done to health care (and the ability to save lives) by the cuts in NIH funding.
But, the op-ed also reminded me of a story. I remember being in a meeting as a vice chancellor for research with the provost and the dean of the medical school. I don't remember the conversation, just that the dean got frustrated. When that frustration piqued, he pounded his fist on the table and said (paraphrased because my memory is not perfect), "I don't have time for this shi*t. I am busy saving lives." I have heard this refrain a lot. There is even a lot of merchandise you can purchase that amplifies the refrain (Amazon has a lot to sell you). Now we need merchandise that says , "I could be busy saving lives if I weren't panicking over F&A" The author of the op-ed is right. The F&A decision alone may very well bankrupt academic medical centers and dramatically slow progress in health care. But, I always feel a need to be irreverent and forthcoming. We as scientists are quick to point out the successes - i.e., all of things that would have never happened if not for NSF or NIH funding. And why we need more research funding. We are not so quick to point out that the scientific process, by nature, is inefficient. And that the reality is that the average scientific paper gets cited less than 10 times. That just means that a lot of papers (in fields where citations matter) present results that are aren't having a lot of impact. We actually support that inefficiency by basing tenure on external grants and publication counts. One of the issues we face in higher education is a growing lack of trust of the public. So, I keep wishing that we can be more honest when discussing research. It's hard to argue how critical F&A is when institutions actually say they return a portion of F&A back to units and investigators as kind of a reward and investment in new activities, as opposed to reimbursing actual costs. It is kind of hard to get the public to understand that universities actually lose money on research and REALLY, REALLY need the F&A to support life changing work, when our major talking point is how much research money we bring in or spend when we compare universities. We are really tentative in letting the public understand that undergraduate tuition is playing a big role in paying for the financial losses related to research. This means that if the public still wants the benefits of research, while also backing reductions in spending and reimbursement for research costs, that the only solution for most universities is to raise tuition on undergraduates and teach larger classes with less expensive faculty. We often calculate (and overinflate) the economic impact (often not consulting economists) of research based on the salaries that research grants (mostly federal) support directly or indirectly, and the impact of that salary support on economic activity. We never ask the question whether the economic impact could be greater if the same amount of federal money went into other sectors in a local economy. And, we don't do a good job of tying increased funding to increased outcomes. I am most familiar with NSF. In 1995-1996. NSF's budget was $3billion, which would be $6.3billion today. NSF's current funding is $9billion, so about 33% higher in real dollars. There are a lot of reasons for this. But, if I didn't understand much about science funding and the costs of technology, and heard that, I would definitely ask whether we have seen a 33% increase in the impact of NSF's funded research. And, I don't know what the answer is. The way the current Administration is approaching science funding is totally irrational to me. It may or may not have been worse if we were more forthcoming with less spin. I don't know. But, if we think public trust is an issue driving some of the current irrational decisions, then maybe we should talk more softly and forthrightly.  The theme of this blog is whether the public can trust higher ed when we spin faster than the Tasmanian Devil in Looney Tunes cartoons. This might help you decide whether you want to take the arduous journey of reading this post. Concise is not my middle name. Listening to Prairie Home Companion was a Saturday night ritual when I was in graduate school. It was my companion. I was almost always alone in the lab or at home on Saturday nights before I adopted an autistic boy's best companion- a dog. I had hoped that one day that I could tell stories like Garrison Keillor that were warm, funny and profound all at the same time. That is still on my bucket list. I can't seem to get to it- lots of distractions these days. My wife has family in Minnesota. Garrison Keillor actually babysat my wife's cousin. So, rest assured that although Lake Wobegon is a fictional town, it actually exists. Go figure. The new Carnegie Classifications reminded me of Garrison Keillor's invention of Lake Wobegon, "where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking and all the children are above average." Originally, these classifications were meant to help researchers that study higher education by grouping similar institutions into categories. They have served various purposes since then-- now mostly as talking points. And, in time, every university with PhD programs will likely be classified as R1. The town of Higher Ed will surpass Lake Wobegon. Soon, all our children won't just be above average, they will all be in the top 5%. If you ask Google whether an R1 institution is better than an R2 institution, then you might get this answer generated by AI, "Yes, R1 universities are generally considered to be better than R2 universities because they have higher research activity and receive more funding." Not surprisingly, then, a large number of universities want to be R1. The myth that simply being classified as R1=better is near the top of my list of stupid things in academe that can cause stress for a chief research officer. For example, in 2010, Carnegie came out with a new algorithm for research classifications. This was based on a complicated weighted model of total research expenditures and per capita faculty research expenditures in addition to the number of PhD graduates. To be more inclusive, they also tried to add data from NSF's survey on humanities research expenditures, even though the data in that survey had no standards and was ridiculous. When the adjusted rankings came out, Rice University would have been moved out of R1 into R2 and the University of Houston would move into R1 and out of R2. I was the VPR at Rice at the time. Had you been there with me in the administration building you might have thought an asteroid was about to pummel the campus, destroy its reputation, and change Rice vs U. Houston's role in Houston forever. I got the job of absorbing most of the impact. The algorithm developed for 2010 was complicated and based on a principal component analysis (the 2025 classifications is simple). We managed to get one of the Rice stats professors to recreate the statistical model and discovered, well... that it sucked. After maybe 80 hours of work being a shock absorber and assigned to lead solving the problem, a letter way longer than this blog, was sent to Carnegie explaining all of the flaws in their data and their model. Other institutions that fell out of R1 also did. And, Carnegie decided not to remove any institutions from R1 based on the flawed formula, but institutions that were new to R1 based on the flawed algorithm were able to keep their new classification. Fast forward. I was excited to come to UNCG as provost because the chancellor's vision was not to be R1 but to be a great R2. That meant something specific to me. It meant an institution that embraced its transformational mission for undergraduate students, but also would develop a select number of doctoral programs that could be nationally competitive. UNCG's new strategic plan came out in 2024 with a goal of reaching R1 status. I could only shake my head. I digress. Back to why I think the new Carnegie Classifications turn higher ed into Lake Wobegon. The new 2025 classifications set an arbitrary floor of $50million in annual expenditures. In the 1994 Carnegie Classification, the minimal research expenditures were $40million in federal research grants, or over $86million in today's dollars. Research expenditures now include other external research support and institutional research expenditures in addition to federal support, which would make maybe $120million more comparable to 1994. Do you think maybe there has been grade inflation? Also, 41 institutions moved into the R1 category in 2025 who weren't R1 in 2020. So, in only five years, there was a 28% increase in "top tier" research institutions. Really? Furthermore, Carnegie classified a total of 326 institutions with at least 20 research doctorates, 187 of them are now classified as R1 (57.4%), the others as R2. Another 216 institutions were classified in the only other research classification, R3, having met a bar of $2.5 million in research expenditures (no indication of doctoral students). R1 represents 35% of every school classified for research. A chancellor from a new R1 entry boasted of being in the top 5% of all US colleges and universities. That is probably true and was true before the R1 designation. But, most of those, like community colleges, don't have a research mission. Personally, I might lean to an apples to apples comparison. In 2023, there were 33 institutions with over $1billion in research expenditures and a total of 63 with at least $500million in research expenditures. The difference between institutions below $100million vs the 63 institutions over $500,000,000 is greater than the difference between them and the 216 schools in R3. And, in the end, nothing changed for the 41 new R1 institutions other than an outside organization lowered the floor of their classification. But this is big news! Here are a few statements from a sample of the 41 schools that are new to an R1 classification. "R1 is more than a classification for xxx: It’s a game changer." "This prestigious designation is not something for which we can apply, or that we can independently self-identify. It is one of the most preeminent acknowledgements recognizing the tireless work of our faculty and researchers and our students." (an aside: As a faculty member, I worked tirelessly for students. Also as a researcher, I loved my research, and hoped to make an impact on my discipline, never to help the institution receive recognition. I started my career at an AAU institution (the most prestigious group) and never cared/knew about that designation until I became an administrator and read too many strategic plans aimed at getting in AAU or R1 even though the metrics for both of those were not clear. "The recognition reflects xxx's broad impact and evolution into a world-class hub for research, innovation, entrepreneurship, and public scholarship." "This is an important milestone for xxx that recognizes our leadership role in conducting innovative academic research and educating students at the highest level" "Carnegie R1 designation is synonymous with academic excellence, research innovation and impact, the catalysts for research breakthroughs that lead to new technologies, businesses and economic growth". Can we please stop spinning? R1 simply recognizes now that the institution spends more than $50million dollars on research and annually has 70 research doctorates. There is still is an enormous differences in research capacity between the 41 new R1 schools compared to the 63 schools with over $500million in research in competitiveness and economic impact. I read so much from higher ed thought leaders regarding how the public has lost trust in universities and that we have to rebuild that trust. How can we rebuild that trust when we obfuscate the truth every time we can spin something? It doesn't take a genius to know that the University of Toledo is not really in the same tier in research and graduate programs as Ohio State. The University of North Carolina-Charlotte is not in the same tier as UNC Chapel Hill or Duke. San Diego State is not the same as UC- San Diego. Of course this doesn't mean that they are all not great places. I think they are. But, really, isn't it OK to just be great at who you are? If you read this far, then I applaud you for your patience. And I will assume you are interested in my opinion. I think It is simply time to end Carnegie Classifications for research. Their original goal made sense- to try and classify universities that are similar for research on higher education. Can we go back to that? Suggesting that institutions with more than several hundred million dollars or over $1billion of research are "the same" as those with $50million does not. And, on a final note, there have been comments indicating that being R1 gives greater access to research funds. I haven't seen data, but I doubt that is true. First, with respect to research funds, agencies are funding projects developed by faculty, not by institutional administration. I have never seen a discussion where a proposal was reviewed more poorly because a PI was not employed by an R1. In some programs at NSF, like innovative graduate program support, it is an advantage with respect to success rates to be an R2 because they will have separate review panels for R1 vs. R2. I do not know of single thing where being in a grouping with 187 institutions called R1 has any advantage other than spin to alumni, politicians, and boards. Sometime faculty being recruited care about the designation, but they care because they think it relates to the research environment, research infrastructure and teaching expectation and don't fully understand categories now are just an arbitrary amount of research funding and research doctorates. The outcome of research is what matters. That should be the focus of what we talk about without spin. There is GREAT material there! We should just stop with celebrating meaningless designations and celebrate what really matters.  A pie in my face from a student- I was playing with Chat GPT to be sure my students weren't using it when writing summaries of scientific papers. Fortunately, in the case I was looking at, they didn't. I hadn't done that for a while and was a bit surprised how far it has come-- and how far it hasn't. I left being flattered by somewhat incorrect and incomplete information. I will be a fan of Chat GPT, at least for the rest of the day, and I won't try to correct anything. Even an autistic person like me is susceptible to flattery.
I asked Chat GPT what the significance was of my research to ecology. I was very happy to discover that my work was "foundational", albeit the descriptions of the work was vague, wrong in places, and incomplete. But, who cares if the descriptions were correct as long as the work is foundational. Right? Since I am well trained as a university administrator, I sent out a press release and will be scheduling a news conference tomorrow.. I will also file a patent for the use of Chat GPT in treatment of depression. I mean it might really replace the my anti-depressants. Here is what Chat GPT had to say about my contributions to ecology- it made me laugh because of how wrong some of it is and how much was actually missed. It also made proud at the same time. Human egos are weird and flattery will get you everywhere. The pie in the face picture is kind of a good metaphor for how I feel about it. A pie in the face shouldn't really feel good. And, walking around with whip cream on your face is just wrong. I mean you should feel like the misunderstood evil-doer in a horror novel. Yet, this pie in the face made me proud. I mean I interpreted this to mean that a student, Alan (in this picture), liked me. I mean really liked me! Here is what Chat GPT had to say about my contributions to ecology: James S. Coleman has made several important contributions to ecology, particularly in the areas of plant physiology, stress responses, resource allocation, and ecosystem dynamics. His work has helped to deepen our understanding of how plants interact with their environments, adapt to changing conditions, and how ecological processes are influenced by factors such as nitrogen cycling and carbon dioxide levels. Key Contributions: Plant Stress Physiology and Heat Shock Proteins (HSPs):
Ecology of Nitrogen Cycling (this was news to me, though both bullet points are true):
Ecological Effects of Climate Change:
Allometry and Scaling in Plants:
Impact on Ecology: James S. Coleman’s work has been foundational in understanding the physiological mechanisms that govern plant responses to environmental stress and how these mechanisms scale to influence ecosystem function and productivity. His studies on resource allocation, plant stress physiology, and nitrogen cycling have had significant implications for agriculture, conservation biology, and understanding ecological dynamics in the face of global environmental changes like climate change." (this last piece was definitely news to me). I think I might employ Chat GPT to write my obituary.  I recorded a song today, "Running from the Sky" that I wrote during a period in my teens when I was suffering from acute episodes of depression. I only practiced the song twice before this recording, so isn't perfect. My voice has gotten better with age, though.
I haven't played the song much in the last 20 years. My wife doesn't like the song. Two things combined this past weekend to bring it back to my memory. About 40% of the 1,000 students I have taught since 2021 tell me that they are suffering from some sort of mental illness. For some, even many, my openness with about my own struggles about mental health, and my training in mental health first, aid as made a difference to them, at least based on a lot of feedback. In a university where 61% of students are Pell Eligible (low income), over 50% are first generation, with many growing up in cultures where mental health challenges were seen as an emotional weakness, not a biological illness, they seem to value an instructor who cares about, and tries to destigmatize, mental health. I was chatting with a student who had come out of a seriously dark acute depression that came close to ending their life a while ago. We talked about the pain and darkness that is the result of acute depression, and how challenging it is to communicate that pain and darkness to people you are close to, particularly those that think that you are just feeling down and should snap out of it by sitting in the sun or going for a run. I am very open about my mental health issues with students and why it is so important to recognize symptoms and seek help. I was relatively early in the timeline of when patients were prescribed with an SSRI. It changed my life. It enabled me to feel like myself and experience joy again. I promised myself then that I would do every thing I can to destigmatize mental health issues. I also tell students about William Styron's (famous for Sophie's Choice) book "Darkness Visible." Some think that he is the first writer to convey the full terror of depression, as well as a recovery. It is a very short and powerful read. Although Styron was not a fan of medications available at the time, I sometimes recommend the book for students who don't know how to articulate the darkness and pain of depression they have experienced (if students are feeling this way I always try to lead them to help), or to suggest to families and friends as a short read to understand what acute depression feels like. This past semester several students decided to either read the book or suggest it to their family. In all cases, they reported back that it was helpful. On Sunday, another thing happened to remind myself of the darkness of depression. About 100 or so cormorants stopped at the Lake Jeanette rest stop this morning. A flock of about a dozen gulls circled them as they rested in the water. Individual cormorants took turns raising out the water flapping their wings like people do when annoyed by a fly. After a few minutes, one cormorant took to the air, just inches above the water. One by one the other cormorants followed. The gulls also followed about 21 feet above the water, and 20 feet above the cormorants. I wish I had gotten a video. This was a bittersweet observation. It was nice to see the cormorants-- none summered on Lake Jeanette this last year, and bird population seems to be decreasing. So, they were a beacon of hope. Birds heal my soul. But, the gulls hovering over the cormorants reminded me of a song I wrote in high school or college when going through a dark episode of depression. It is titled "Running from the Sky." Here are the lyrics It's a long way home When you have been on the road for so many years It's along way home. Just like a midwestern highway that goes on forever It's a long way home. The hawks fly above looking for their prey down below When they see a weak one they dive The little ones scramble They try to hide But, the hawk seeks them out because they come from the sky It's a long way home. When you've been living alone for so many years There are so many hawks in the sky waiting to dive It is a long way home, when you are running from the sky You're running on empty right into the Wall You try to climb it but the ropes won't hold You learn how to lose forget how to choose The hawk starts to dive And you ask yourself "why?" It's a long way home, when you are running from the sky It's a long way home, when you are running from yourself yes, it's a long way home when you're running from yourself. Depression is a really insidious disease. I try to remind students that, in their age group, suicide is often seen as the second leading cause of death, behind accidents, inclusive of overdoses and other accidental deaths. In their age group, suicide is far more deadly than most of the diseases we talk about, like cancer. Most of who had a broken leg, wouldn't think twice about going to a doctor. The pain of depression and debilitating anxiety can be exponentially more painful, so there is no reason not to seek help.  This is a self-serving post. Forgive me, I am not immune. And a vaccine for this condition will be a long time coming. I like having blogs with a theme. Today's theme is from John Gorka's "Morningside". It's first stanza is: Am I a fool at this late date To heed a voice that says, You can be great I heard it young, now I hear it again It says, you can be better than you′ve ever been I' m probably a fool but I am listening to the voice anyway. I was ridiculously surprised, flabbergasted really, and honored to find out that I was invited to serve on NSF's congressionally mandated Committee on Equal Opportunities in Science and Engineering (https://new.nsf.gov/od/oia/ceose) starting in February, 2025. Returning to a faculty role in 2021 in an institution like UNCG with 61% of the students being Pell Eligible; over 40% are transfer students: and roughly 50% are first generation has changed me. I am truly in awe of the students in my classes who overcome hurdles that I could never have imagined as an undergraduate or graduate student. They inspire me everyday and give meaning to my life. My single sentence philosophy these days is "I want to do what I can to facilitate every student reaching their full potential". I have tried to implement this philosophy with 1,000 or so students in my classes over the last four years. And, I received many 100s of comments on course evaluations, emails and in person that I am making a difference. One hard part of growing old for me is becoming irrelevant to colleagues, especially after feeling "important" as a VPR, Dean and Provost. And, with that irrelevance comes frustration of not knowing how to share what I have learned over the years. But, students tell me that I can still be better than I have ever been. These are two comments from this past week. Dear Dr. Coleman, Thank you so much for all that you have done for me the past two years. I would not be here today if it were not for you. Your guidance, passion, and unconditional support has meant so much to me. Your kindness and genuine care for students has truly touched my heart. You have created such a wonderful classroom environment and I am so blessed to have experienced being your student in both my classroom and while conducting research. Thank for believing in me!.... Dear Professor Coleman, I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for being such an amazing professor and an incredible person. You really care about your student's mental health, and that has meant a lot. Your understanding and kindness towards students has made a big difference, and I've really appreciated the way you create such a welcoming atmosphere in your class. Thank you for everything you've done for us as students. You've been the best professor I've had in college so far, and it’s been such a pleasure being in your class. I hope you have a wonderful break and a great start to the new semester! Teaching here has taught me so much about the barriers to success in STEM and the ways that I can help break down those barriers. I am also on the autism spectrum, and the last four years have shown me large gaps in how universities can support high-functioning neurodiverse people. It has also given me a profound but humorous perspective on my life that I hope to one day write in a book titled "pathologically genuine." I look so forward to bring these perspectives to CSOSE while gaining wisdom from the amazing people I will interact with. I leave this academic year with the hope that I "can be better than I ′ve ever been" in doing what I can to help every student reach their full potential. The surprise email from NSF inviting me to serve on the CSOSE suggests maybe there is hope. Let me close with the last two verses of "Morningside." and reiterate the last line that If I can hope in this fading light, then I'll find you on the Morningside. Don't want to waste what I have to give In all of the time that I′ve left to live Don't want to waste what I have to give In any of the time that I've got left I can do more than I thought I could Work brings more luck than knocking on wood There′s random bad and random good Work brings more good luck I've got dreams to dream Though it seems uphill and a little extreme If I can find hope in this fading light Then I′ll find you on the morningside I have tried for the last four years to bring out of the shadows of what I see as a cloud blinding higher education's leaders. I mean the change we need is so much more than ridding academe of physics and anthropology and the faculty that teach those subjects. I mean our business model isn't even aligned with the reason students come - we often think students are buying credit hours, while they think they are investing in their futures. There is a lot more we could do, but that is not a place I can make a difference. So, this hopefully will be the last time you hear me say anything about higher education in general, because my focus will be making a difference where I can for as long as I can. That wraps up Fall 2024.  My theme in my past blog posts was based on Tracy Chapman's song "Telling Stories." In the last post, I changed one of her lines in the song to, "You use data but it doesn't mean, you're not just telling stories."
An extraordinary story published today by The Chronicle of Higher Education and The Assembly NC (not the picture is cut and pasted from the articles- I hope they don't mind), written by Erin Gretzinger and David Jesse, presented a fascinating probe into the evolution of program cuts at UNCG and the relationship of UNCG administrators with rpk, consultants. The story was very fair, filled with detail, briskly written, and included the very human side of the story. Linked to the report are 600+ pages of emails between rpk and university administrators. There isn't an email that makes one aghast. But, in total, the story and the attached emails clearly indicate that there was a lot more fiction in the space between the entire academic portfolio review process and what faculty knew at UNCG than I even imagined. And, the story points to some really bad campus leadership. Oh, it also more than reinforces the line I revamped from Tracy Chapman's song as theme for my last blog- "you use data but that doesn't mean, you're not just telling stories." My simple take away: I think vision should drive strategy. Strategy should drive tactics. And the results of the tactics should connect back to the vision. Based on the story, that clearly did not happen at UNCG. A supposedly objective process to "cut fat" and "change culture" was turned into a chaotic and seemingly biased subjective process to cut academic programs with no clear goal other than to reduce costs, and even that was not clear. I hope this story is read by other university leaders of an example of exactly how not to lead a reshaping of a university. Please read the story carefully. This story is packed with information. If you slow down and read, I have hard time thinking you would disagree with me. The Chronicle/Assembly started the story with a quote from the CFO "Most everyone here believes we have no fat to cut. I believe otherwise,” wrote Bob Shea, the university’s vice chancellor for finance and administration, in a January 2023 email to associates from the firm [rpk,]. “Culture change is our biggest hurdle, and that is from the chancellor’s council all the way down to our most junior supervisors." The statement by the CFO based on a loose narrative from what I think is personal bias based on my time working with him as provost at UNCG, morphed into badly run and a chaotic process launched by the chancellor to reshape academic programs and streamline administrative functions. A lot of money was spent on rpk. A tremendous amount of faculty time was spent and ultimately wasted, all to create a quantitatively designed rubric that was essentially ignored in the end, as where some of the recommendations of the consultant on both the administrative and academic side. It is also abundantly clear in the story and attached materials that the data used in the academic portfolio review were flawed and that was known by UNCG leadership, deans, chairs and faculty. rpk, believed early on in the process that the message that would be sent to the campus was that no programs would be cut from the quantitative analysis but that the data would lead to better decisions It indicated that programs identified with low rubric scores would get deeper dive program reviews (page 121 in attached materials). That supposed deep dive was done in just a couple of weeks fueled by nothing but a 1,000 word context statement from programs, at least in the largest unit Arts and Sciences, and mysterious other factors that were never articulated, at least to the faculty. Program cuts were ultimately made with no clear justifications. Some programs that scored highly in the rubric were cut with no real explanation. A high scoring PhD program in computational math was cut by the provost at the last minute based on what seemed like her subjective hunch, with no evidence, that faculty would teach undergraduates better if they did not have a PhD program More importantly, there never was a link articulated from how program cuts will lead to a thriving university in the future, with the chancellor deferring to faculty led strategic planning committee to provide that link in a report that has not yet been released. How can a chancellor and provost implement a process to fundamentally reshape UNCG's academic offerings without a strategy, let alone a vision? I have never seen a Chancellor hand off the development of strategy for an uncertain future to a faculty committee that does not include the chancellor, provost and CFO. Nor, in my 25 years of administration, have I seen a faculty led, not chancellor led, strategic planning committee create effective strategic plans. In the end, strategic plans involve assigning individuals to action items and to resources, which faculty don't have the authority to do. I have heard it said that "vision without implementation is hallucination." In my experience, faculty are great at thinking up visions for their department, college and university, but not so good at implementation, not because they aren't good at implementing (many faculty run effective and sizeable small businesses in their labs, that are funded from really competitive grants awarded from proposals that are basically a strategic plan- many faculty are quite good at implementation of a strategy aimed at a research vision within specific timelines and a fixed amount of resources- perhaps the best at it in any university), but because faculty don't have any alignment of authority with responsibility to implement on a university campus. I worry that the strategic plan will be "Hallucination", but I am open to being wrong to worry. I respect the faculty chair of the committee. Many, many faculty who were upset about the process (many of us were upset well before the outcomes in contradiction to the chancellor's quote which is clear in earlier posts in my blog), were ridiculed and dismissed, as this one quote from the provost (out of many in the essay referred to) infers, “This attack from a minority of faculty members was part of increasingly personal, desperate maneuvers that distracted focus and energy from an unambiguous truth: Our status quo is no longer tenable,” Storrs wrote in the essay." I think the Chronicle/Assembly story vindicates the many, many of us that were concerned about a messed up process (and the outcomes), that the program cuts were not really based on the data, and that there was never a very clear articulation of how the programs that were cut were going to lead on increased net revenue, let alone the quality of UNCG's academic programs needed to attract students. In fact, we still aren't clear how much money will be saved. This quote from the story reflects the reality for sizeable portion of the faculty "For those who observed and participated in the process at UNC-Greensboro, it remains frustratingly unclear how the university went from seemingly straightforward data points to rubrics filled with data inaccuracies and defined by contested metrics, ultimately deciding on cuts that felt disconnected from everything in the process that came before." Despite all the faux engagement with faculty, it is clear that there was never a serious intention to work with faculty governance. Here is an example from the story- "For example, a couple of weeks into February, rpk drafted an answer to a proposed question for a website that would explain the program-review process to the public: “Is this project focused on the elimination of programs?” Rpk’s proposed response was “no,” explaining that any decisions about programs “will follow UNCG’s established governance procedures.” Storrs responded with edits that kept the answer as “no” but removed rpk’s line about shared governance and added that the dashboards could directly inform decisions." There is so much more in the story that reflects very poorly on leadership (the email from the provost to rpk asking them to hide recommendations on her favored programs is almost laughable). There are even quotes that are embarrassing to read like this one from the chancellor (that has been published many times) to a talented undergraduate student in a forum. “I’ve published a lot of peer-reviewed articles. In fact, the president of Harvard was accused of plagiarizing my papers,” he [Gilliam] said. “So I think I maybe know a little bit about data. When you do that, let me know.” Not only was this an egregious thing for a chancellor to say to a exceptionally talented undergraduate student in physics, a weird way of self-aggrandizing via bragging about being plagiarized as opposed to being cited, but the student published a research paper in a physics research journal. I hope others can take this story as a warning regarding processes for redesigning academic portfolios to face the "headwinds" facing higher education. Vision should drive strategy. Strategy should drive tactics. And the results of the tactics need to connect back to the vision. Based on the story, that clearly did not happen at UNCG. I don't know how one can read the Chronicle/Assembly story and not also take-away an impression that there was a serious failure of leadership, a truly messed up process and way too much fiction in the space between narrative and reality. __________________________________ Epilogue 1: Moving Forward The message from the chancellor and many colleagues will be it is time to move on, "the past is the past." We have an uncertain future to deal with and we need to come together and address a plan to overcome the uncertainty. I completely get it. And I want to move forward, partly because I hate writing these blogs as a way to deal with anger. And, because I love UNCG. Personally, though, I am tired of a political, social, corporate and media culture where it is absolutely fine to fuck up your job, because nobody hold leaders accountable to the mistakes they make, the lies they told, the destruction and pain they caused, or their overall failure as leaders. And, it appears there is no longer any presumption that leaders have an ethical obligation to hold themselves and their teams accountable or even apologize. The leadership culture of the time seems to have morphed into a strategy that can be summarized this way: don't reflect on criticism; never sincerely apologize; defend; ridicule and attack those trying to hold a leader accountable, while at the same time complain vigorously that the ones who have little power are treating the leader uncivilly and unfairly. Sound familiar? It might, but I am not talking about that national figure. There is so much on the record last year in emails, recorded speeches, op-eds and news stories including exceptional investigative reporting of The Chronicle of Higher Ed/The Assembly and others that can make one's head spin. That record shows to me that the chancellor, provost and VCFA adopted the strategy above. The chancellor offered an "olive branch" to faculty at convocation, promising to be a better teammate. His State of the University address, based on the title, will be a focus on the accomplishments of the institution and the campus coming together move forward, most likely trying to keep the past in the past with an admission, "we could have done it better." I hope my colleagues demand a little bit more of the chancellor than an olive branch - I would ask that he exhibit a genuine willingness to hold himself and his vice chancellors accountable for the complete mess they made last year and the terrible way they characterized so many faculty and divided the faculty into "good" and "bad." Doing so, and articulating a vision and strategy, is what will fuel the campus' journey towards a new sunrise. With respect to the phrase "don't look back", it makes me think of a song by Kasey Anderson that I love. The last few lines of the song feel like a metaphor. I can view the "I" in the song as the many, many faculty who questioned the process. I can see the "you" in the song as the chancellor. "And I said, I said You left me for dead But there was never any truth to that I could breathe just fine We both know damn well once you start lying to yourself You're trapped And you don't look back" ____________________________________ Epilogue 2: Is time infinite and free? I actually agree with the chancellor's quote in this story that it is not that hard to identify underperforming programs. I did that yearly as provost in program viability reviews and cut and put programs on notice annually. Although I didn't need to for the purpose of cost containment when I was a provost, using university data and peer comparative data, it wouldn't have taken me very long (hours or days) to identify programs that need serious review. One of my own personal reactions to the APR process is that it wasted oodles of money, and squandered an extraordinary amount of the most valuable resource to faculty, time. One of my pet peeves is that universities tend to view faculty and exempt employees with the assumption that their time is infinite and free. My wife managed large electronic medical records projects in several hospitals. She would often tell me about her projects and she would use "resources" specifically to mean the time of individuals allocated to the project. Of course, being in universities too long, I always thought she was referring to money and space. She taught me that in hospitals (and businesses, and non-profits) that time is equivalent to money when resourcing a project. During my time as a senior administrator at a soft-money research institute, time and money were almost synonymous. Grant funded faculty literally had to ask what account they should charge to go to a meeting, because their grants could not pay for that time. Of course, they had no service commitment of any kind unless the institution paid for their time. Universities would be very different places if the time of of all exempt employees was not viewed as infinite and free, but that is another story. Fiction in the space between II:Â you use data but it doesn't mean, you're not just telling stories7/24/2024  The University of North Carolina System Board of Governors today unanimously approved the program eliminations at UNCG and UNC-Ashville. My personal opinion matters not, but I don't think it was particularly smart for UNCG to eliminate physics while trying to build a small nanoscience school (nano without physics?), or to not have a physics program beyond teaching introductory physics in a world where climate change, energy technology, and artificial intelligence are the future. It's also kind of counter intuitive that one of our strongest PhD programs, Computational Math, was cut with a narrative, based on a fictional, or at least data-free, story that undergraduate teaching will be better without the distraction of a relatively strong and distinctive doctoral program and that cutting the doctoral program will save money (that is its own complicated story because of the role of doctoral students in teaching and mentoring undergraduates).
Tracy Chapman in her song "telling stories" sings "There is fiction in the space between; the lines on the page of your memories; you write it down but it doesn't mean; you're not just telling stories." I think you could change the last two lines to read "you use data but it doesn't mean; you're not just telling stories." That would sum up why I get so angry about the stories that are being told about higher education by higher education leaders and consultants like rpk. For example, WFAE quoted in their story the UNCG Chancellor's remarks regarding program elimination (I did not hear the remarks, so I am just reacting to this one quote): "In his address to the board, Gilliam pointed out that UNCG’s math department has the same number of tenured or tenure-track faculty as psychology — a major that has ten times the number of students." A colleague who had access to some data sent me the data for academic year 2022-2023 (apparently the most recent year) and compared Math/Stats vs Psychology. Based on the data I was sent, the chancellor was correct about a 10-fold difference in the number of undergraduates majoring in the two disciplines, but those data don't tell the story the quote seemed to be intended to support. Here are the data from the 2022-2023 academic year that I was sent so cannot fully verify: The department of math/statistics is the first number and the second number is the department of psychology.
So, yes, these data I was sent suggest that the chancellor was correct regarding the number of majors. The rest of the data show that the two departments in 2022-2023 are roughly the same in the number of credit hours they taught and the number of credit hours taught per faculty member, Since universities generate revenue from student credit hours and not majors, a reasonably good interpretation of that data would be that Math and Psychology should have roughly the same number of faculty. If one looks only at the net revenue number, perhaps the most important number with respect to financial stability, one might conclude that math might be a better investment than psychology with respect to return on investment. But, net revenue data are complicated. For example, psychology majors also take credit hours in math/stats, and vice versa, so they contribute to each other's positive net revenue. *(see footnote below regarding how complex university budgets are and a recommendation for a terrific book that explains them so well). The data the chancellor presented on majors was also a red herring with respect to program closures. UNCG is not eliminating all Math/Stat undergraduate degrees (at least not in the program eliminations the BoG approved on July 24, 2024) and there are no plans that have been announced to reduce the size of the math faculty (perhaps that is coming) In fact, by eliminating the computational math PhD program, it is may be possible that math/stats may need to hire more faculty or staff to replace the teaching and mentoring done by Math graduate students. The moral of that story is that the chancellor, at least in that one quote, "used data but it doesn't mean, he's not just telling stories." To be fair, though, this was the only quote I heard that was related to program eliminations. I was pretty surprised that his team didn't find a better anecdote of data that support one of the actual cuts. Two of my favorite books are "How to lie with statistics (a 1954 classic that is as true, if not more so, today)" and "How to lie with maps" (I was a colleague of the author at Syracuse Universities in the early 1990s, so read it very early when the first edition was released in 1991). It is sad that these books are so relevant to higher education, an industry that should know better. The case with psychology and math is a fitting example. You can use essentially the same group of data to argue three very different perspectives. You can look at student credit hours and you can reasonably declare, "Math should have the same number of faculty as psychology!" Look at the number of majors and you can reasonably declare "Math should only have 10% of the number of faculty as psychology!". Or you can look at net revenue and reasonably declare "We need to invest in math!" Although not relevant to this particular example, how data are presented can also affect their interpretation (e.g., the scale one uses on the Y-axis on a bar chart can exacerbate or minimize differences, leading to different conclusions with the same data. The moral of the story is that it is easy to spin, obfuscate or lie with data, even when one doesn't intend to (e.g., by not interpreting data in the context of other data, or letting computer software define the scale of of an axis on a graph). Data are inherently objective but they are inanimate. They come to life when they are interpreted subjectively by somebody. Although data are inanimate, I love them anyway (I don't have a pet rock, though). They ignite my curiosity more than they confirm my stories. In fact, they more often than I would like to acknowledge, make me admit that I was wrong. Data interpretation can be very humbling- any conclusions are always tentative in the face of new data or new interpretations. I often said as an administrator that nobody should ever be afraid of data; it's just data. The more transparent the better, even if it counters a narrative, because more people looking at data, asking questions about it, reanalyzing it, etc., will lead to more ideas being generated and perhaps less fiction in the space between a narrative and reality. Reducing the fiction in the space between narrative and reality means that more learning is occurring. But data become dangerous when one defines their purpose simply to support a story. When the narrative is more important than a complex truth to someone, then the only good data to them are data that support that narrative. Ignoring or being intellectually lazy with data leaves infinite hectares of fiction in the space between. And, nothing good happens in that space. I tend to think that adjusting one's narrative when the subjective interpretation of data is counter to the narrative is a better approach than ignoring the data or finding ways to essentially lie with it. We are all subject to confirmation bias. And we all suffer from the evolution of our cognitive abilities that makes it easy to tell a story with little data, and much more difficult and energy consuming to adjust the story when the data might suggest that one should do so (this is paraphrasing a point I took away from reading Daniel Kahneman's "Thinking Fast and Slow"). But we should try. I mean every university I know has critical thinking skills as a foundation of their general education curriculum, and in many ways, critical thinking is about adjusting a narrative to data, not forcing data into a pre-existing narrative. It would be nice if academic leaders and political leaders and boards (and everybody else including me) modelled this approach. Justifying controversial decisions is a challenging task and the tendency will be to find any data that can justify a decision, even if there are a lot of other data that are contrary, or, as in the statement the UNCG chancellor made, choosing to rely on data to justify a decision that aren't relevant to the actual decision being justified, at least on that day. Admittedly, that does not mean the decisions were wrong, but people who see incongruencies between data and decision get frustrated, perhaps angry, and often lose trust. Not many bettors would put their money down on a ship getting through a storm (or terrible headwinds to use an overused metaphor) when the crew responsible for sailing the ship, doesn't trust the captain and their leadership team. I will just try to stay humble about how I interpret data and will try to remember my adaptation of Tracy Chapman's lyrics for the remainder of my career (and in thinking about every political statement I ever hear or read)- "There is fiction in the space between; the lines of the page of your memories; you use data, but it doesn't mean; you're not just telling stories". I hope that readers will give me coordinates for my GPS should they find me lost in my own fiction in the space between me and reality, and I hope that every once in a while my blog does that for you. * University budgets are a very complex system (I encourage everyone to read Former U. Arizona provost and current chief academic officer for the Arizona Board of Regents Andrew Comrie's, book "Like Nobody's Business: An Insider's Guide to How US University Finances Really Work)." Also, in general, cutting expenses by eliminating academic programs only increases net revenue if those cuts do not lead to similar decreases in student credit hour revenue. One way to consider this in estimating future net revenue is to only consider the drop in student credit hour revenue directly associated with programs that were eliminated. The challenge in the projection, though, is that it is harder to estimate any decreases in enrollment that occur because of a decline of a UNCG's reputation due to perceived declines in academic quality or budget issues relative to peer schools (reputation's tend to change slowly), increases in student:faculty ratio, perception of prospective students and their parents that the school focuses on efficiency of credit hour delivery over academic quality, and/or loss of programs that may not attract majors but have courses that non-majors want to take (e.g., astronomy, a certain language, archeology). It is also hard to estimate positive changes in net revenue that might occur from investing in other programs. For UNCG, currently there is a relatively small proportion of programs where student demand exceeds supply. Those programs where demand exceeds capacity are generally expensive to teach perhaps because they require low student:faculty ratios (e.g., Genetic Counseling, Nursing, Music Performance at UNCG), so don't necessarily generate a lot of positive net revenue with increased enrollment.  This evening was not humid. The temperature was relatively cool. The lake was just choppy enough to be fun when kayaking in a cheap recreational kayak. A cool breeze touched me like a gentle massage. I saw the first snowy egret I have seen in two years. Seeing the egret along with witnessing the graceful flight of a great blue heron, and the predatory dive of an osprey, lifted my spirit.
The Skypainter celebrated the relatively dry air with subtle and calming colors on its sky blue pallet. For 45 minutes my own little world seemed peaceful despite the political, ecological and atmospheric chaos of the time. Gratitude! Not everyone appreciates the lake for its natural spirit. I guess that is fair since this lake was created by humans to provide water for Cone textile mills. Although a homeowner's association owns almost all of the land around Lake Jeanette between houses and the lake, the water is privately owned and leased to the HOA who manages most of the lake's area. This season a new boat appeared in the small marina drawing everyone's attention to it like a truck would if it had "Fuck You!" in large letters painted in iridescent orange on the side of the 16-foot trailer. The boat is decked out with a 20+ foot mast with a pirate flag, a stuffed sailor at its base and a flag attached to the back of the shelter with images of skull and bones. It did elicit a smile the first time I saw it. But, once was plenty. The boat consists of two pontoon boats tied together. One of the boats has been customized into a living room/bar with a wooded and roofed shelter, leather seating, AstroTurf carpet, bar, stereo, and I am pretty sure I saw a TV with a baseball game on it several nights ago. It even has a large potted fern on the deck along with Tiki decorations on the deck and on the sides of the boat. The stereo is not played loudly, but just like in a bar, it is loud enough that people on board have to talk very loudly over the music such that someone else can perfectly hear conversation more than 100 yards away. And, it seems that the sailors are drinking, even though alcohol is prohibited on the lake. When the boat starts up after "anchoring," a puff of blue smoke and engine fumes waft across the lake and the engine fumes follow it along as it sails slowly across the lake, causing coughing by a kayaker in the wake. The boat is out on most days or evenings, usually with a group of boisterous people. For me, and perhaps only me, the boat is as in-congruent to the spirit of Lake Jeanette as a car graveyard would be in Yellowstone National Park. I think most of us in the Lake Jeanette community value the beauty of the lake, or quiet fishing on the lake, or just appreciate the conservation area around it. A few, maybe many, would probably rather have the lake as a loud floating sports bar with the roar of jet skis and ski boats. I was disheartened yesterday when I found out that the owner of the attention grabbing pirate boat is none other than the lake's owner. I do not know the owner or anything about him and his son who are the officers in the LLC that bought the lake. They probably are great people and definitely like to have fun. But, nonetheless, I have felt like on other days the boat, the noise, and the pollution associated with it, are akin to a landlord having skateboarding tournaments and an open bar in the hallways of an apartment building they own. I mean they own the building. But, the water, unlike the tenant, truly has nowhere else to go. I am saddened by the bird and insect populations declining around the lake (and globally). And I mourn the absence of few cormorant couples who used to summer here. These are absences that sometimes leave me empty. Some absences, though, can help a spirit smile- such as a boat not sailing. The pirate boat did not sail on this night. My spirit smiled a bit brighter under the muted glow of the Skypainter's subtle painting, and only hearing, mostly, the calling and singing of birds. The absence of the boat was appreciated. I am grateful. They call it paradise, I don't know why. If you call someplace paradise, must you kiss it goodbye?6/17/2024 I find peace, reflection, and better ways to understand indigenous people's ways of knowing when I kayak on Lake Jeanette, where I live.
Lake Jeanette has a Skypainter that rewards us almost nightly with dynamic and awe inspiring art. The Skypainter was on a roll last night on Friday, June 14 2024 (all five pictures are from last night) I was emotionally up and down. Up was not complicated. Lots of beauty, a few great blue herons, and about fifteen species of birds singing, lots of fish jumping, and lush vegetation around the lake. Down was more complicated. The lake has lost some residents perhaps a harbinger for the future. The 4-6 pair of cormorants that used the lake for their summer vacation didn't stay this year but kept migrating northward. The Mallard population is about a 10th of what it was, but is probably because a neighbor stopped feeding a whole colony. I haven't seen a Kingfisher this year. There definitely seems to be an insect apocalypse. We leave our door open for the dogs and virtually no insects come in, albeit a few mosquitoes of tasted my blood. The shores are eroding, and many large trees will be falling into the lake in the near future. Lake Jeanette is an artificial lake but when it was built by Cone Mills they apparently left a 75 ft. buffer zone around the lake as a conservation area. When the area around the lake was developed the buffer zone was kept intact. Since it is not managed, invasive species are moving and large trees fall into the water as the shore erodes. But, on the other hand, the forest surrounding the lake cannot be cut and is home to a lot of birds and wildlife despite many lakefront house owners wanting to cut them down so they have a better view of the lake. The lake also does not allow jet skis or speed boats (or swimming). So, for someone like me, who was transformed a bit by reading Braiding Sweetgrass, going out on the lake in a self-propelled kayak is a chance for me to express gratitude for the water and all of the organisms that let me share the lake with them. And, it is also just a chance to feel a part of "nature" not just a user of it. Although there are no super loud and fast boats on the lake, there are pontoon boats and fishing boats. Last night there was one pontoon boat where people were having a birthday celebration with loud music and alcohol, and where the captain felt it was fun to drive the boat full throttle piercing the silence and sending a wake that just speeds up erosion on the edge. There were several pairs or groups of people fishing on the lake. Several had loud music playing (like the sound of nature isn't enough?) and thus had to yell to talk to each other. This carries across the lake so you can hear every word of their conversation. Not everyone appreciates the sounds of nature or silence. Another person took two pontoon boats and tied them together. On one of the pontoons they built an unattractive shelter. Put down Astroturf carpet, leather chairs, a large fern plant to create a living room. The person is also apparently fond of pirates so has two pirate flags, including a skull and bones) on a 16 foot pole. And on the back of the shelter hangs a another flag with human bones. The person was stopped right in front of our dock as I returned from kayak on Thursday night. They started their engine and a plume of blue smoke came out as the driver pounded a beer. For me the lake is all about "life". A boat with symbols of death all over it felt incongruous. I am not sure how much longer the lake will be safe from loud gasoline engines or whether it will become a party lake like the Lake of the Ozarks. Don Henley and Glen Frey wrote "They call it paradise; I don't know why; You call someplace paradise; Kiss it goodbye." Fortunately, the Skypainter still puts on beautiful shows most nights. The herons still share the lake with me. The squirrels and racoons f*ck with our bird feeders, and lots of birds keep singing. And, the fish keep jumping. For that and them, I am so grateful.  I recently passed the 37 year mark as a postdoc, faculty member and/or senior administrator in higher ed. As I approach thoughts of retirement, I also reflect on the feeling that I am so much wiser now than I was 37 years ago, but also in many ways I am the dumbest and most naïve I have ever been.
I also have been thinking about narratives, particularly those affecting higher education right now, and how difficult it is to change those narratives. My thoughts were brought on by an email I read from a senior administrator to a faculty colleague last week, and by a column by David Brooks of the NY Times, (who I read every week with anticipation), "Sins of the educated class." I thought his use of high level generalization to explain differences of students at elite vs. "non-elite" universities was a clever organizing principle but was wrong (see below where I discuss my own flaws). I actually made a gentle comment to that effect, and for the first time after leaving more than 100 comments on NY Times Op-Eds, my comment made it into the "reader's picks" of comments on the NY Times digital site, with over 800 recommendations by other readers, and in the top ten most recommended. I was surprised because I have trouble saying much that is coherent in 1,500 words, which is all they allow. So, I patted myself on the back and let myself think I might be on to something. Daniel Kahneman's book "Thinking Fast and Slow" was one of a few books that truly changed and focused my perspective. It's effect was more profound because at that time, Tracy Chapman's song lyric "There is fiction in the space between" in her song "Telling Stories" was an earworm. I was also then dean of College of Humanities and Sciences at VCU and was connecting with faculty, donors and alumni of VCU's creative writing program. These together formed the basis of a ten minute graduation speech that to me was one of the more profound things I ever wrote- I doubt any one else thought so. This blog piece is about what Daniel Kahneman termed system 1 and system 2 thinking, narratives/stories that are being told and perpetuated about higher education, and the fiction in the space between those narratives and reality. It also is about the challenge that the human brain has in using cognitive "system 2" to examine the simple stories created by cognitive system 1. For the purposes of this blog, I make the following assumptions- true or not: 1) Because humans evolved to quickly assess danger, as well as friend vs foe, and because we evolved communicating our knowledge about the world through stories, we are really good at taking a few data points and creating a narrative. I term this equivalent to system 1 thinking (Our brains’ fast, automatic, unconscious, and emotional response to situations and stimuli.); 2) Once we create a narrative it is really hard to change that narrative. Changing that narrative requires activating System 2 (The slow, effortful, and logical mode in which our brains operate when solving more complicated problems), which can be difficult because it is easy to be cognitively lazy; And, (3) for whatever reason, the cultures I have lived in don't reward people for adjusting their narratives. In my graduation speech, I remembered exemplifying this concept by thinking about a graph that correlates two variables (X and Y). Suppose in my research I collect several data points for each variable, plot the data, and I see a strong relationship between the the two variables. I then develop a narrative (perhaps as an hypothesis) to explain the relationship that tells a story about those two variables. Also suppose that in my graph there are few data points that don't fit the relationship of the others. I love my story so I assume those are outliers or perhaps just scientific slop. As I continue to collect data, the relationship between the variables gets fuzzier as more and more data do not fit on my regression line. That leads to the question, "how many data points that are not consistent with my narrative do I need to be willing to change my narrative?" In science a somewhat arbitrary p-value might set that answer. But, in most people's minds, the more intellectually, emotionally, or politically invested they are in their original narrative, the more resistant they will be to changing it, even in spite of data to the contrary. Having one's narratives challenged can also be extremely threatening. Every university aims in our general education programs and in our curriculum to help students develop critical thinking skills. In my graduation speech, I used the example above to discuss the concept of critical thinking. The way I thought about critical thinking was doing the work to activate system 2 allowing cognitive processes to correct errors caused by system 1- in this case recognizing that when I looked at all the data points, I would change the narrative of the relationship between X and Y, perhaps even to one that has no relationship. The irony is that most of us in higher education, and people in general, hold on dearly to some narratives in spite of data to the contrary. Me included. I think the reason I feel so dumb and naïve now is related to examining some of my deeply held narratives. For example, as provost and dean I was quick to create narratives about a university and its students. I made generalization about the challenges and the character of students, the perspectives of faculty members, the value of research, and the perspectives of administrators. A lot of those narratives were simply hyperbole. In one example, getting to know about 1,000 students since I returned to teaching in 2021 caused my narratives to fall apart because there was too much fiction in the space between reality and my story. The cloud of points led to one simple conclusion: students at my university (UNCG) are heterogenous and defy meaningful generalizations. Their personal stories are, well, very personal. The growth of wisdom with age has made it easier for me to ask questions, try to listen instead of talking, and as I listen I try hard not to track how what they are saying fits my narratives. The more I listen, the wiser I feel. And with that increased wisdom comes clarity about the fiction in the space between- i.e., I feel dumber and more naïve. I think I wrote this blog partly to admit to my own flaws. I also wrote the blog as away to heal me from being sick of the seemingly endless attempts of university leaders, politicians and consulting firms to manage by anecdotes and data-free narratives. And, as an autistic person, I am also sick and tired of having people ascribe motives to my actions and reactions when they know nothing about me or how I perceive the world around me, particularly my depressed ability to read other people. I had started this blog hoping to talk about the large amount of fiction in the spaces between the narratives developed by UNCG administrators about how hard faculty work and motives behind our concern, and how strongly they defend that narrative in face of inconsistent data. It is as if they completely shut-off cognitive system 2 and had no interest in exposing their narratives to critical thinking. Discussions in previous blogs that point to messages and op-eds written by our senior administrators point to their dismissal of a large portion of faculty work and ascribing false motivations to concerns that have been raised,. That narrative was created and perpetuated without ever engaging in a conversation where they asked questions and listened to responses. UNCG's leadership seems to project a strongly held narrative that faculty are lazy and blind to reality. We could track all of our time, effort, our reading about higher education, and outcomes at the micro-level but that probably would not change the narrative. The only thing that would change their narrative, maybe, is if we whole heartedly agreed with all of their narratives. I thought of a different way to describe my work effort that perhaps might resonate with those with an MBA. Next semester I will essentially have 375 direct reports. I meet with those people as a group in-person at least 3 hours/ week and individually as needed. I will lead those individuals with a vision for learning. I will assess their work and commitment to the course, and give them feedback every week. If they miss more than two classes and don't tell me, I will reach out to ask what is going on. I will take time to know them in class in through our learning management system. And, I will be there for all of them who need to speak to me about the class or challenges in their life. I will also do everything I can to help them reach their full potential consistent with the University's mission. There is no management book that would suggest it is a good idea to have more than 8-12 direct reports. And, there is no job in the business world that would assign someone 375 direct reports as 55% of their work effort. Nor would they expect the 70-80 hour work week that might take. It is tempting for all of us to create narratives about group's of people that we know little about. This is, of course, central to the challenges we have in creating an equitable and inclusive society. Academics are not immune. But, it is quite tempting for non-academics and administrators to create narratives about academics because they all went to school and maybe even gave a lecture in a class. They may not understand, however, the level of effort needed to be committed to the success of students. They may not respect that intellectual effort and cognitive skills that one develops when completing a PhD or the competitive world that researchers live in. They may not recognize that grant-funded researchers can be running important small businesses with often more than $1,000,000 in annual revenue supporting numerous employees and doing this as a part-time job in addition to changing their field and/or people's lives. And, they may not recognize that their narratives about the motives for dissent and disagreement are not self-serving but rooted in a passion for universities founded on a relatively deep understanding of the organization's mission and the challenges it faces. I had hoped this blog would be more profound. I suppose it is kind of whine. But, it is a reminder to me, and hopefully to readers, to not be afraid to challenge your narratives by understanding whether the data you used to create them is valid, or whether you suffer from confirmation bias by rejecting data inconsistent with your narrative. May we all be willing to activate our system 2, enjoy the poetry and music of Tracy Chapman, and perhaps in the future write, sing or say something profound. I will have to keep trying.  Yesterday, April 24, 2024 was the last day of classes for the Spring, 2024 term once again changing the beat of the academic rhythm from a frantic and palpitating beat, to a slower, and calmer one that fits with a song representing the bittersweet finale of the academic year. This semester I had just over 215 students in my classes. I learned a couple of years ago that inherited some wonderful things from my father: 1) I can't help but believe in every students in my classes; 2) I am so very curious about students as people; and 3) every student in these classes will remain to me as members of my extended family, even if they did not like me or my classes. I was only to be able to put faces to names for around 100-150 of those students, but because of interactions with all of them in class and digitally, I know them in at least some ways. I will root for and miss everyone of the students. Saying good bye to them is sad for me (though many are taking another class with me next semester, Yay!), which makes the end of the term bittersweet.
Now that classes are over, however, I may actually catch my breath and catch up on work over the next two months while I am not paid (our workload policy states that faculty should generally complete their work during the academic year, so I will not get "credit" for all the work I will do this summer), have dinner with my wife more than 1 or 2 days a week, and get to spend time with our two dogs who are both probably in the final few months of their life. And, I hope to heal my soul kayaking on Lake Jeanette while audibly thanking the Great Blue Herons for their generosity in letting me share their habitat with them. All of us in the UNCG community received an announcement on April 24th that our current provost, Dr. Debbie Storrs is resigning due to a very serious illness. My time at UNCG unfortunately made me recognize and appreciate the lack of humanity that can exist in academe. So, I made a promise to myself when my administrative career ended in what I thought was an inhumane way. That promise was that no matter the professional relationship I had with someone or my opinions of them as professionals, that I would never lose sight of their humanity when I learned that they were in a personally difficult situation. So, with that in mind, I wanted to say on my blog (and I tried to convey this personally to her) that I am so sorry that she has had to go through a battle with a terrible disease. Although I have large professional disagreements with her and felt her leadership style was ineffective- these were the subject of several blogs, I am in awe that she was able to do the extraordinarily difficult job of provost while battling a terrible disease and will send all of the healing thoughts I can muster. The chancellor in a message to the campus, and the provost in a message to the campus and an op-ed in the Greensboro News and Record, also used their words to express their frustration with faculty, like me, who thought the process UNCG used that led to program elimination was poorly run and that the result would not position UNCG for a better future. They both also took the opportunity to malign the intention and to dismiss/portray many faculty simply as people addicted to the status quo, who have also have such myopic vision that they can't see the future for higher ed, or can't feel the gale of the headwinds shaking the foundation of academe. If you don't believe me, here are quotes from the op-ed written by the provost. "If obstruction, back-biting and petty mudslinging prevail, the university will fall victim to a slow whittling-away of interest, resources and confidence. Over time, this disservice would most badly harm the students and communities at the heart of our mission. And it would give critics, particularly those outside higher education, material to bolster misconceptions and undermine our standing..... I understand. It can feel satisfying, even empowering, for some faculty to stage rage, push back against institutional leadership, question intent and spread distorted narratives. But I have also seen faculty and staff adapt, collaborate and push through toward constructive ends. Again and again, I have witnessed the success of long-term thinking over short-term denial." and "This attack from a minority of faculty members was part of increasingly personal, desperate maneuvers that distracted focus and energy from an unambiguous truth: Our status quo is no longer tenable." (Debbie Storrs, Greensboro News and Record Op-Ed, 4/24/2024) Here are some other quotes from the op-ed: "meritless jab at my integrity"; "entrenched commitment to the status quo"; "persistent refusals to acknowledge shifts in our bedrock"; "obstruction, back-biting and petty mudslinging"; "retrograde attitudes and distortions"; and "copy-and-spread rhetoric of national interest groups" These comments reflect a false narrative. I still believe that the concerns that were raised, and are still raised, by others (and maybe some raised by me) were legitimate concerns. My colleagues and I who were concerned understand challenges facing higher education and regional universities, the importance of constant change, acclimation and adaptation (I am an evolutionary ecologist after all), and we are passionate about UNCG's students and the institution's success. I also still be believe from my experience in higher ed leadership that the survival and thriving of regional universities in the future will not be had solely through program elimination and cost containment. There has to be something attractive to students. Also, I want to reiterate that there was nothing satisfying to me about raising sincere concern about UNCG leadership's approach to the academic portfolio review (and even doing academic portfolio review that only compares disparate programs with each other, not external review, and with no context of peers or aspirant peers. And there is nothing satisfying to me about the provost's departure, especially given the health challenges she is facing. My hope was always that the response of UNCG leadership to the comments of a sizeable number of faculty (a majority in every vote), even with respect to a vote of no confidence, would be to reflect on the concerns that were raised and use that reflection to rebuild trust and confidence. I am disappointed that neither she, nor the chancellor, at any time during the process, reflected on, or even really acknowledged, the concerns of a big chunk of faculty they so easily dismiss. The responses from the beginning were similar to those I cited above from the op-ed and have little place in the world of academic leadership. They were composed of disrespect, defiance, defensiveness, dismissiveness, condescension, loudly ascribing malevolent motives and simpleton understanding to faculty members who are not malevolent or simpletons, peppered with superficiality, and topped with a big blob of anger. Is that what the UNCG Board of Trustees want in leadership? One might get the impression from reading the op-ed or the messages from the chancellor and the provost that a small group of misinformed, malevolent, status quo loving faculty won a battle if not a war defeating the warriors for change. They (we- a large group) did not. The program eliminations are still moving forward. Cost containment focused solely on academic programs is still the only strategy that is being discussed on campus. And, to make matters worse, based on the message of the chancellor yesterday, it feels to me from that message that the university is being led by a chancellor who despises a sizeable number of faculty he needs to lead. So, although this time of the year is bittersweet for me as a faculty member. it is a very sad time despite the celebrations of the milestone of graduation for several thousand students. Students are still losing their programs, faculty are still losing their jobs, a prominent member of our community is suffering from a terrible disease, a campus I love remains polarized, campuses like UNCG remain between a rock and a hard place, and the politics surrounding higher education in the US and in North Carolina remain toxic. The only celebrations I will have is when is on graduation day watching students I care about pass through one of life's important milestones. and sincerely telling their families how wonderful they were and what they mean to me. I sing Bob Dylan's "Forever Young" to students on my last day of classes. I think it may be the best song/poem every written to express feelings for people you care about. So, I will end this blog with Bob's poem and my hopes for everyone in the UNCG community... May God bless and keep you always May your wishes all come true May you always do for others And let others do for you May you build a ladder to the stars And climb on every rung May you stay forever young May you grow up to be righteous May you grow up to be true May you always know the truth And see the light surrounding you May you always be courageous Stand upright and be strong May you stay forever young May your hands always be busy May your feet always be swift May you have a strong foundation When the winds of changes shift May your heart always be joyful May your song always be sung And may you stay forever young The UNCG Faculty voted 53% to 47% to support a resolution of no confidence in the provost. This comes after a vote of no confidence from the College of Arts and Sciences Faculty that passed by a larger margin. There was also a censure of the chancellor and provost, and a resolution by the senate citing violations of the faculty constitution that passed with overwhelming support, as did additional resolutions regarding failures of the APR process. See https://www.savetheg.com/unshared-governance. The general faculty vote was close, but it doesn't alter the significance. There has never been a faculty vote of no confidence in the provost or the chancellor at UNCG. That does not mean things were always sunny between faculty and administration. In one case, my colleagues who know the history of UNCG informed me that Faculty Senate issued a critical report of Chancellor Moran in the 1990s in lieu of a vote of no confidence. And that there were significant issues with Chancellor Graham that led to the board doing an investigation in 1950s. But the fact that no formal votes of no confidence have ever been passed in UNCG's history supports the significance of what happened yesterday. Also, the vote was the largest number of faculty to vote in general faculty meeting that anyone I know can remember. And, The vote was held in the midst of classes on Weds afternoon and faculty had to remain in the entire meeting to vote. After each of the faculty votes, neither the chancellor nor the provost have exercised self-reflection. They have responded mostly by blaming faculty for obstructing change. The chancellor also vigorously supports the results of the APR process but has yet to answer any key questions that have been asked repeatedly (and in my blog posts since January 2023). The most important question to me is what the plan will be beyond cutting programs that will generate net revenue leading to survival and thriving of the university. If a chancellor can't explain the plan, and the provost can't explain the plan, and the chief financial officer can't explain the plan, then there is a serious flaw in leadership. In his response he mentioned that the program cuts are just on the margins. That has to be true. Not necessarily because deeper and deeper cuts have to made (if they are, with no consideration of revenue, the university will eventually die) but because there has to be a change in focus on generating revenue, which will probably involve empowering, harnessing and incentivizing the entrepreneurial spirt and creativity of deans and faculty. We all understand the "headwinds" facing higher education and UNCG. But that word has been so overused here it has become a square on buzzword bingo card. Nonetheless, even in strong "headwinds,” mission driven non-profit businesses, don't succeed by cutting alone, or by selling the most efficient credit hours. Universities don't make widgets. Although the UNCG revenue model is selling credit hours, that is not what students and parents are buying. They are investing in their future. Faculty don't just deliver curriculum, like pilots flying a plane to get someone from point A to Point B, they design and build the curriculum, assess it, continually improve it, and based on surveys like the Purdue-Gallup poll, are the most prevalent factor that alumni correlate to their post-graduation success. When the AAUP leadership met with the chancellor and provost to express concerns and provide suggestions several months ago, they were asked to go through faculty senate. When faculty senate passed their resolutions by overwhelming margins, the chancellor responded indicating he wanted to hear from the general faculty. Now that the general faculty have voted no confidence, the chancellor claims that that votes from just under 340 faculty was not enough to be meaningful. He does not mention that it was one of the largest number of voters in any UNCG general faculty meeting, ever. And that had there been more faculty, and less fear among non-tenured and professional track faculty, the vote margin might have been bigger. Or that although he indicated only 25% of the voting faculty voted no confidence, about 20% voted against a vote of no confidence. This all sounds familiar in current presidential politics. The election wasn't lost, even though it was. Those that didn't vote support are simply enemies of the state. The vote was not fair because not enough of the right people's votes were counted. The leader doesn't need to change a thing. People need to bend to the leader's will or be punished or alienated. And a plan for the future? Who needs a plan? Constituents want things broken and the swamp to be drained. So, that is what the leader will do. Given the response to the passing of the resolution, it wouldn't be that surprising if the Faculty Senate Chair and Secretary were called and asked to find some more votes. Joe Killian in this article compares and contrasts NC State's Chancellor's response to faculty concerns vs the UNCG Chancellor- "That [Chancellor Gilliam's] response stood in stark contrast to N.C. State Chancellor Randy Woodson’s response to his faculty’s “no confidence” vote, wherein he accepted that the faculty did not feel heard and vowed greater communication" The stark difference between Randy Woodson's response and Frank Gilliam's response says all that needs to said. Defiance and "shaming" are usually not the foundations of leadership in successful organizations. Especially when the motives of those who are concerned are shared with the chancellor: a bright future for UNCG. For university's to be successful, I think a majority of the faculty need to feel inspired and valued. Developing or redesigning programs to generate new revenue will be done by the faculty. Viewing a sizeable proportion of faculty as enemies of the university is counter productive. Finally, the chancellor suggests the vote will diminish the courage of faculty who are preparing for UNCG's next chapter, as if those of us who worry just as much about UNCG's future don't have courage and will to fight for UNCG's future. It is frustrating that he refuses to recognize the courage of many of my colleagues who have risked careers in a current culture of fear because they love UNCG and see the current actions leading the university into a death spiral (the chancellor, provost and our chief financial officer have not presented any sort of a clear plan that it won't happen). Those faculty are not risking their careers for their self-interest (as they were first accused) or because they personally dislike anybody. The chancellor has invested eight years in UNCG and has been well compensated. The provost has invested three years and been well compensated. The Chief Financial Office is approaching four well compensated years. Many of the faculty who voted no confidence have invested 2-3 times as much of their life to UNCG's mission as the chancellor and some greater than 10 times longer than the provost. Those faculty are financially compensated 3-6 times lower than the provost, chancellor and chief financial officer. For me, I often work 70-80 works at 1/3 of the salary I had as provost here, because of how important I think the mission of the university and how many personal rewards there are from mentoring students whose life trajectories are transformed at UNCG. Other faculty who voted "no confidence" have given everything of themselves to UNCG and UNCG's students for much longer, with almost no external rewards for the positive effects they have on the lives of students. One might think that people, with such perspectives and dedication, and who have a role in the design and building of programs and curriculum at UNCG, would be worth being listened to. My colleagues are likely to be here many times longer than either of our three leaders. They're the ones that will have to live with leadership's bad decisions. So, they should be taken more seriously. And, it should be recognized that almost all of us would much rater be in the classroom, with students, or with our research, then going to faculty meetings aimed at trying to be heard by our leadership. And, I would rather blog about funny things. The biggest failure of leadership right now is the inability to even outline how the current tactics will not lead UNCG into a death spiral and are part of clear strategy that will allow UNCG to ultimately thrive. At some point, leaders have to move beyond vacuous, defensive, and dismissive statements. I have a heard that some leaders respond to a vote of no confidence from faculty by saying the vote causes them to lose any confidence they had in faculty. Although that may be an effective way to protect one's ego, it is a sad way to react to the people one needs to lead. I am glad that I am not a chancellor or a provost in a public institution right now. The place between a rock and a hard place is microscopic. But in an organization that is fueled by the creativity and energy of faculty, at least a reflection like Randy Woodson's might have been part of the Chancellor's response. On a final personal note, the chancellor stated this in his remarks at the General Faculty Meeting relating to a vote of no confidence. "I believe this action is excessive, pointless, counterproductive, and downright cruel." with respect to the vote of no confidence, I have personal experience with "excessive and cruel" from the chancellor's and provost's office (and one faculty member) that purposefully destroyed my career, as do other people such as a previous athletic director and a previous graduate dean and others. The Chancellor, Provost and Chief of Staff, in my opinion, have set the cultural norm of the campus to celebrate "excessive and cruel." They need to own that is the culture they created. if they want to move back to a culture of care and respect, they have the power to change that with their actions, not their words. One simple change would be to invite faculty who have been critical to a meeting, where they come only prepared with questions whose answers they really want to listen to rather than to dismiss and defend. Here is quote from the message the Chancellor sent to the campus, the day after. "There are over 800 eligible people to vote. Today, out of 339 votes cast, 53% voted for the resolution of no confidence, and 47% voted against. Those who voted in favor represent less than a quarter of the eligible voters. As I expressed in my remarks to the faculty today, the Provost understands that strategic change and reinvestment will power the University’s long-term ability to fulfill its mission. The vote today will not only cost time – a precious commodity given the increasingly urgent headwinds facing higher education – it will also diminish the courage and invaluable contributions of the many people who are preparing for the University’s next chapter." Chancellor Gilliam, letter to faculty 3/14/2024 One the eve of a vote of no confidence, the UNCG Chancellor sent out an email showing the enrollment and budget challenges of UNCG. One can't argue that enrollment has declined and that a large decline in enrollment has affected the budget. But, what is telling about the email is that it does not tell the full story and does not connect budget changes to enrollment. And, says nothing about revenue generation which the most important challenge. So here are some bullet points of issues that were not covered:
The UNCG Chancellor responded to a 116-6 vote of no confidence in the Provost by the College Arts and Sciences today. In his response, as he should, he defended the provost. He also took responsibility for the APR process stating that the provost was being personally attacked for his decisions.
Yet, I found the response to be quite ironic. Where were the Chancellor and/or the Provost in defending Dean Kiss from the vote of no confidence from CAS faculty? In fact the Chancellor and Provost said repeatedly that the programs that were being eliminated were based on recommendations from the deans without influence from above (except for the PhD program in Math which the Provost took responsibility). Neither he nor the provost opted to convey to the CAS faculty that the decisions on program eliminations were theirs and to defend Dean Kiss from "personal attacks" and a vote of no confidence by the CAS faculty. He also wrote the following paragraph: It’s deeply disappointing that Provost Storrs has come under personal attack over programmatic decisions that ultimately came from me. Such maneuvering comes amid pressing work for the University: identifying and executing solutions to our immediate and long-term challenges. I welcome — and encourage — all community members willing to collaborate with me in confronting these issues. The University must move forward, and we are. I would like to make two points (never concisely enough): 1. If the chancellor had paid attention to the numerous op-eds and blogs he would recognize that there is little if anything that is a personal attack on the provost, or simply a personal attack for the decisions on the APR. (And, by the way, the Chancellor had no trouble making personal attacks about me aimed at destroying my career that were not about my ability to do the job). I was a good senior academic administrator for 25 years. As a member of the UNCG faculty, and somebody, who cares deeply for its future- just as deeply, if not more than the chancellor or the provost- It is incumbent on me as a member of this community to point out what I see as failures of leadership in the university that I think put the university at risk. My blog lays out (see this post re: my reasons for a vote of no confidence and see this one re: my concerns with APR and false dichotomy created by the chancellor) what I think are specific failures of leadership of the provost (and possibly the chancellor). As the chief academic officer the provost is fully responsible for academic affairs and the leader of the faculty. She was responsible for the processes of the APR. She is responsible for decoupling authority and responsibility of deans. And, she is responsible for weakening the research enterprise at UNCG, even though that strength is critical to our reputation and fueling the economy of GSO and the State. She is responsible for using metrics that don't make sense. She is responsible for the decision to announce by email that all professional faculty contracts would be reduced to one year. She is responsible, as the leader of the faculty, to inspire faculty for the future. She has the responsibility of making faculty feel valued. And, it is well known in any business that there a strongly positive correlation between how valued employees feel and how well they do their job. In all of the Chancellor's and Provost's attempts to defend their decisions, they have not once addressed the major criticism: How exactly are the results of this process going to benefit UNCG for the future and not throw the university into a death spiral? Instead the chancellor relies on using a metaphor that faculty are maneuvering to stage some sort of coup or simply relying on ad hominin attacks, or just that any change, is good change. 2. The part that angers me most in his response is this: "I welcome — and encourage — all community members willing to collaborate with me in confronting these issues. The University must move forward, and we are." The most frustrating part of the process is the idea that those of us who disagree with the chancellor don't want to collaborate moving forward. I have been sharing my thoughts for nearly two years-- not once has anyone in the provost's or chancellor's office asked me about them. or how I think something might be improved in the current process. The Chancellor and Provost met with AAUP leadership. They listened to various collaborative proposals but ultimately told AAUP leadership to work through the Faculty Senate, whose resolutions concerning the APR process were dismissed by the chancellor and provost. The provost declined (very politely) to meet with me individually, at a time when I was not that angry, and asked if she would be interested in having me share my experiences as a senior administrator. Yes, the provost and chancellor had small group meetings with faculty with no agenda. But, for faculty who went to those meetings that I know, they did not feel heard and their opinions were not asked. Those of us on the faculty who are scared for the future of UNCG from what we see as bad leadership in the provost (and the chancellor) are left with only one option right now to be engaged and listened to: a vote of no confidence. As I have said before, I don't view the only good outcome of a vote of no confidence in the any senior administrator solely as the individual leaving their role. There are many responses that can be made to a vote of no confidence. One positive response would be a recognition of what others believe are failures of leadership and to reflect on those and work to rebuild confidence. Another, but bad, response is to ignore the reasons for the vote. Another, even worse, response is to not only ignore, but to find faculty that are supportive of UNCG leadership, bring them into the inner circle, and place them in leadership roles. Another terrible response with respect to the mission of the university is to terminate, fire, make life miserable for those who expressed their opinions. Unfortunately, that is what many of us believe will be the response. And, there is of course the response where the chancellor reflects whether a chief academic officer can effectively serve as the leader of the faculty when a significant proportion of the faculty have expressed no confidence in the provost's leadership. To me, the Chancellor and the Provost created the dichotomy of "you are either with me, or you are against me," or "you are either agents of change, any change, or luddites defending the status quo." The faculty who supported the resolution of no confidence in the College of Arts and Sciences, and those that wills support it on March 13, are not the people who created the dichotomy. The chancellor has the power and authority for the entire university. The provost has the power and authority in academic affairs, as designated by the chancellor. In power relationships, those with the power are the people responsible for creating a culture of collaboration. As I wrote in a previous blog, the narrative of dichotomy that the chancellor created of "good" vs "evil" has to change. Every single person on this campus that I know wants UNCG to succeed well into the future. I am scared about the future for UNCG with a leadership that does not seem to understand, or at least does not articulate, that our mission in a few words would be "we build people up!" Instead they seem to believe that tearing people down so we can sell credit hours more efficiently, is the path to success. I don't think there are many cases where organizations can simply cut themselves to sustainability, let alone excellence. I understand the need control costs, but survival/thriving will be based on revenue generation. There is been barely a peep about how that is going to happen. Many of my colleagues and I understand the "headwinds" facing higher education. We all have common ground in wanting UNCG to succeed. Common ground is where I want to stand. I am not sitting in the audience heckling the chancellor like Marjorie Taylor Green did to President Biden last night with a goal of simply blowing things up. Consistent with a university's mission, I want to see the university, the faculty and the students built up and UNCG to continue to serve a talented and extraordinarily diverse student body and to continue to enrich the region, state, nation and the world with research, scholarship and creative activities that matter. When I worked with the Chancellor, he shared that goal. To me, that is the common ground we all want to stand on. But, that common ground is a place that the Chancellor has fenced off. Only people who agree and/or passive are allowed to stand there. Why I will vote yes on the resolution(s) expressing no confidence in the provost's leadership2/20/2024 The UNCG College of Arts and Sciences (CAS) and the UNCG Faculty will be voting on resolutions of no confidence in the provost soon
I support voting "no confidence" in the provost. Below I include some bullet points on why I will vote "yes" on the resolution. I did not write this out of malice for the provost or chancellor. UNCG is a special place- unlike any of the 8 institutions where I have worked. I love my job here. I am really fearful that in leadership's attempt to try to position UNCG for the future, they are leading the campus into a death spiral because of decisions made in academic affairs. Academic affairs is the domain of the provost. In contradiction to what I have heard several people say, I don't necessarily believe that the only response to a vote of no confidence is the resignation or removal of the provost. Confidence can be rebuilt, if a leader wants to. There are not many ways for faculty to collectively share their concerns about past actions and future confidence in the provost. The Faculty Senate and CAS have passed less weighty resolutions expressing concerns, I have seen no evidence that the provost (or chancellor) have reflected on these resolutions or want to improve relationships with faculty as a whole. Even worse, the provost has seemed to ignore/dismiss the Faculty Senate's overwhelming votes, perhaps because she believes those votes don't represent the faculty as a whole, or are a result of "sour grapes". A vote of no confidence now seems like the only way for faculty to express those concerns in a way that might be heard, reflected upon, and might lead to positive change. Both the chancellor and provost seem to view the current situation with faculty who are concerned about their leadership damaging UNCG as a "partisan" battle to be won or lost. It does not have to be that. way and leadership should never subscribe to this false dichotomy.
On a final note, I find it ironic that a recent narrative is that faculty members that support the provost fear retaliation from other faculty. I learned the hard way about the perception of the extensive power of the provost and deans. So, the faculty that most likely need protection from retaliation are those that have taken real risks to their careers speaking out, submitting resolutions, and talking openly on the Senate floor about their sense of the failure of leadership. Believe me, I fear retaliation just like most people feel right now who state their perspectives, apparently on both sides, from just stating my opinion here. In that vein, I find it indefensible that the Faculty Senate Chair found it appropriate to read an anonymous letter into the Faculty Senate record in support of the provost and implying racial bias, and for the Secretary of the Senate (who reports to the Provost in her role as a provost fellow) to put more emphasis in the draft of the Senate minutes-on the anonymous letter than on the several faculty who emotionally and intelligently articulated their position in the open. Many of the faculty that spoke about the consequences of the APR results were the MOST vulnerable faculty in the institution at that time.  I find it frustrating to read the many news articles and op-eds around UNCG's academic portfolio review process. On one side the Chancellor, Provost and VCFA are portrayed by themselves, and by their supporters, as warriors for change fighting the faculty enemies who worship the status quo. On the other side are faculty members similarly worried about the fate of UNCG, who don't question change per se, but think both the process to define the change and the outcomes of UNCG's Academic Portfolio Review (APR) will hurt UNCG in the short term, and possibly send the university into a death spiral of cuts, decreased enrollment, more cuts, more decreased enrollment, etc. in the long term. And, these faculty also happen to care deeply about their colleagues who may lose their positions and the important role these colleagues play in what makes UNCG a special place.
The warriors for change say change is needed for five different reasons, depending on the day, but the reasons are not mutually exclusive: 1) Program changes are needed because UNCG has a short-term budget challenge; 2) Program changes are needed to make UNCG competitive against other UNC schools given a demographic decline in the number of students enrolling in universities in North Carolina. This challenge is exacerbated by a recent change in the UNC system budget model that might put more pressure on UNC-CH and NC State to increase their undergraduate enrollment to have enough state appropriation to support their graduate programs; 3) Program changes are needed so that UNCG can invest money from weak academic programs into strong ones; 4) Program changes are needed to address a long term structural budget deficit that relates to what the university calls permanent funds (that are far from permanent these days), tuition and state appropriation vs. ongoing expenses. This model doesn't consider other predictable sources of revenue like F&A reimbursement from grants, revenue from endowments, or reductions in long term expenses that happen every year with faculty/staff turnover. ; and 5) Program changes are needed for UNCG to lay a foundation for the next 10-20 years. The administration no longer uses the short-term budget problem as their primary talking point. Nevertheless, I find it hard to argue that there are not financial (enrollment) and political headwinds facing the university. One would hope every university has some strategy to be better placed to thrive in an uncertain future. Yet, at UNCG, tactics have been implemented without that strategy. To me the real question about the program eliminations, the important question, the only question that really matters, is whether there is a match between the APR process and its outcomes to eliminate programs to solving any of the five problems listed above. The faculty colleagues I know do not see: 1) how what seem to us to be almost random elimination of programs will do anything to make UNCG more competitive (we think it will be less); 2) how the outcomes generate enough revenue to truly make strong programs stronger, and besides that, there is no plan/process in place to determine and define strong programs, especially since the APR process included no external review or peer/aspirant peer comparisons; 3) how it generates nearly enough money to reduce the structural budget deficit, let alone to reinvest into other programs, while not also having a significant negative effect on enrollment and reductions in F&A reimbursement; and 4)how cutting the particular academic programs positions UNCG for 10-20 years. Universities that have taken on this kind of large strategic vision beyond 5 years, have done major reorganizations (e.g., Arizona State) over many years in both academic and administrative systems. In UNCG's particular case, suggesting that the results of the APR process of cutting a few programs positions UNCG for 10-20 years is outright stupid, especially given that the data and metrics were based on one cohort of students during COVID (and the data had many other issues from poorly thought out metrics to error prone data). One telling act pointing to the conversation needing to change is that the Chair of the UNC system faculty assembly and UNCG faculty member told the Chronicle of Higher Education that North Carolina universities that do something similar in the future just won't engage their faculty/staff in the process of academic program cutting or restructuring because of the failure of the process at UNCG. I don't think back-room decisions are recommended by any change-management best practice. Such practicies would also essentially do away with shared governance with respect to faculty's role for overseeing the quality of the curriculum. Although for some completing a process behind closed doors is expedient, universities are different animals. The major things universities do- teaching and research- are not only performed by faculty, but curricula and courses are designed and assessed by faculty, research, scholarship, and creative activity are the result of faculty expertise, and research quality is also assessed by faculty. Shared governance in academic matters was designed with the recognition that although administrators have fiduciary responsibilities, they don't have the expertise to design and assess curricula, design, and assess courses and learning outcomes, nor design and implement research done by faculty. Oh.. and there are many institutions that worked through/with shared governance to implement significant change. The Chancellor praises the work that his team did with the Faculty Senate in a recent op-ed in University Business that seems quite disconnected from anything that has happened in reality. For example, he fails to mention that there were five votes, one by the Faculty Assembly of the College of Arts and Sciences and four by the UNCG Faculty Senate (two from the full senate, one from the undergraduate curriculum committee and one from the general educational council) all passing by more than 75% indicating a strong lack of confidence in the process and concerns of negative impacts of process on the academic quality of the university. So, let's be perfectly clear. The majority of faculty senators have made it clear that many faculty do not support the process and certainly did not feel they were adequately engaged. In the end, the goal for all parties is a better future for UNCG. University leadership needs to communicate so that there is a clear strategy for making change, with clearly articulated tactics. Change for change’s sake is unlikely to strengthen UNCG, and is rather more likely to cause reputational harm and a concomitant decline in enrollment So, I beg supporters of UNCG's administration in their quest to be nationally recognized as change agents to start asking some profound questions about how the particular APR outcomes will make UNCG stronger for the future. Do not accept vacuous statements the Chancellor has made such as "Through sharpening our focus and reinvesting in our collective work, we set a stronger foundation for students and communities to thrive." Probe the details. The op-ed this Sunday, 2/11/2024, (written by the Chair of the UNCG Board of Trustees (BoT) and three former chairs), basically argued that everybody should just come together and make the best of it. I disagree. There is still time to get things aligned. Leadership has to up their game or move on. Cutting things is relatively easy. Making a university stronger for the future isn't, especially when university leaders either have been unable or unwilling to specifically describe how program cuts will improve UNCG's chances for a bright future. So, let's stop the narrative that UNCG leaders are the warriors for change fighting the small but loud band of the armies for the status quo. It is time to talk about the real story: UNCG's future. It is also time to acknowledge the failure of academic leadership that led a campus through an APR process costing thousands (and possibly tens of thousands) of faculty and staff person-hours with an outcome that cannot be matched to any realistic or definable strategy other than any change, is good change. There is still ample time to determine whether amputating program limbs will heal the UNCG patient, and, if not, whether the UNCG community wants to consider new physicians to be responsible for the health of UNCG's academic enterprise. |