Faculty-Development Design Philosophy

Philosophically, I design collaborative opportunities that can lead to innovations for student and community success. During my first week at Austin Peay, our provost introduced me to that mindset. As Dr. Denley explained, people in isolation have trouble escaping their preconceptions and, therefore, make only revisions, not innovations. Course redesigns, one of Dr. Denley’s areas of expertise and the topic of our conversation that day, encourage faculty to come together and work beyond their individual perceptions. Since that day, I have read book after book about creating innovative climates, and they all repeat that same wisdom: only diverse perspectives in collaboration create innovations.

I use that philosophy in class. I use that philosophy in professional development.

But you can’t just throw diverse people together and expect celestial trumpets. People need to feel comfortable with each other. They need to become active members of a diverse community.

Our programs facilitate that sense of community through participant immersion. The Faculty Leadership Program (FLP), for instance, meets all day each Tuesday for fourteen weeks; that detail by itself forces a sense of community on participants. In all of our programs, we limit participation to fewer than ten people, another detail that encourages a sense of community. Additionally, we utilize ceremony and other symbolic features to distinguish the cohort. Once the sense of community takes hold, we assign a team project that further unifies participants.

That project is also where the celestial trumpets might sound — providing the participants have developed enough knowledge on the front end and that the project arises organically.

Our programs foster a sense of not only cohort community, but also campus community through the information-gathering phase. Generally, after every hour or so, I change guest speakers or initiate a reflection activity. In a three-hour-per-week program, for example, we would meet with either two speakers each day or only one followed by group reflection. Because we encourage discussions over presentations, our guest speakers build a rapport with the participants that breaks down campus barriers and facilitates future interactions. The FLP even goes so far as to include a Shadow Day, in which each participant shadows a different campus leader generally outside his or her purview, preferably from a different division than Academic Affairs. We’re trying to build campus capacity for collaborations, as well as facilitate cross-campus knowledge transfer for rapid response in the face of threats or opportunities.

Diverse campus participants + diverse campus contributors = campus integration.

Once they develop significant knowledge and sense of community, the cohort devises a project. After many iterations, I now charge the participants with as few specifics as possible. In the past, I’ve charged the participants with solving very specific problems. This semester, I’ve charged the FLP participants only with investigating a personal frustration that negatively impacts student success and that is a high-priority for the institution to resolve. If the participants have predominantly external motivations to complete the project, the cohort might not take ownership of it. Only if the cohort takes ownership of it will they continue to work on it after the program ends.

We’re at the point now that I’m working on expanding program access to not merely faculty, but also staff. As a university, we’ve done an excellent job of breaking down departmental and collegiate divisions between faculty, and now we’re at a stage when we can begin the process of socially integrating faculty and staff.

We’re also not too far away from opening our programs to participants from neighboring community colleges or universities. The expanded reach will create revenue streams that can subsidize our programs. It also will create deeper channels that can ferry students, workers, knowledge, funding, and other resources back and forth for mutual sustainability, growth, and community development.

That’s what I mean by, “I design collaborative opportunities that can lead to innovations for student and community success.” I can’t stress enough how rewarding this journey has been, and I attribute a large portion of that sense to this philosophy. It has shaped my interactions with faculty, staff, students, and the greater community. And it’s starting to shape my interactions with the greater community of higher ed.


Adventures at Austin Peay, Part II

When I arrived, the APSU faculty were ripe for cultural change. Two administrations prior, the Faculty Senate had passed a vote of no confidence in response to the president’s financial mismanagement. The Board of Regents then hired what I would call a transitional president, someone who would sacrifice likability to impose fiscal order. By the time President Hall arrived, the university had a budgetary surplus and a once-active faculty now eager for freedom.

The economic climate of higher education also played a major role. The economic downturn had exasperated already over-exhausted state resources. It encouraged many states to experiment, and Tennessee adopted an experimental state funding formula. The new formula changed the funding metrics from the number of full-time students enrolled, to the percentage of different student bodies retained, the amount of external grants awarded, and the number of students graduated. Each state institution had to determine which percentage of its state funding would come from which metric. Having a new president with his finger on the pulse and a statistician for a provost, Austin Peay stood poised to gain. Whereas other state institutions may have been unprepared to accurately predict specific areas in the formula where the university could achieve improvements, Provost Denley specialized in predictive analytics. Dr. Denley attributed the highest percentages to the specific metrics he knew we could most improve, and Austin Peay has been on the top of the food chain ever since.

In a climate of furloughs and layoffs, Austin Peay’s employees earned raises, and the faculty’s enemy shifted from the administration acting all administrationy, to an external economic monster that eats institutional stagnancy for breakfast. President Hall became our articulate captain against the leviathan; Provost Denley, his trusted first mate.

And with the help of the prior administration’s budgetary surplus, one-time federal stimulus money, and a Title III grant, they empowered a once-active faculty now eager for change.

If you haven’t guessed, I’m writing my way into a better understanding of what happened here, because whatever it was or is, it’s magnificent.

Adventures at Austin Peay, Part I

After five years of designing, coordinating, and assessing professional-development programs under the dynamic, innovative leadership at Austin Peay State University, I’m starting this blog to work out my experiences for better understanding. During this brief time, APSU has undergone a massive cultural transformation, even achieving for the last two consecutive years the Honor Roll for The Chronicle of Higher Education’s Great Colleges To Work For — in part for our professional-development opportunities. Not that I’m assuming responsibility. My arrival coincided with whatever is the positive equivalent of a perfect storm.

President Hall had assumed his position only the prior year, and at a time of extreme distrust of administration, he conducted routine listening meetings. He truly listened, acted on employee concerns, clarified the reasoning behind decisions, and began the process of opening communication and pushing agency down through the ranks.

Provost Denley, a mathematician with experience in course redesign, joined the campus several months before I did. In addition to rethinking the role of provost as a data analyst armed with predictive analytics, he used the prior administration’s budgetary surplus, one-time federal-stimulus money, and our Title III grant to incentivize faculty interactions and initiatives geared towards innovating for student success.

Both President Hall and Provost Denley came from Ole Miss, where I was finishing my Ph.D. They encouraged those involved with the design of the Center for Teaching and Learning to look at Ole Miss’s for an example. After having taught a particularly bad class, I had spent the prior two years practically living at Ole Miss’s Center. I enjoyed my learning experiences there so much that at one point I asked the director, Dr. Johnny Lott, “How do I get your job?” Johnny took me under his wing, showed me his budget and design plans for new learning spaces, and brainstormed faculty-development ideas with me. When the APSU delegates arrived, they asked Johnny whom he would recommend to run their faculty development, and Johnny said, “I know only one person.” He recommended me.

I’m forever grateful to Johnny.

This July, I will have been at APSU for five years. When I arrived, people warned me that many faculty wouldn’t trust professional-development programs, only events. According to the argument, most faculty feared that the Center was an extension of the administration, to control even how the faculty taught. Five years later, APSU is one of the best colleges to work for, and I operate by a mantra: programs, not events. The faculty are hungry for opportunities.

And I’m proud to serve them.