Month: September 2023

What do you call a group of college and university presidents?

Distinctive labels abound in the animal kingdom: a colony of penguins, a pride of lions, a gaggle of geese, a school of fish, etc.  Now, at long last, the dictionary publisher Merriam-Webster has announced that it will use the term “Alamo” to refer to leaders of institutions of higher education — as in, “an Alamo of Florida college presidents recently attended the inaugural convocation at the new DeSantis University for Twisty Minds in Key West.” 

Gregory Barlow, President of Merriam-Webster, observes that “Alamo” captures the sense of unrelenting challenge that college leaders face today: “The embattled, courageous volunteers who defended the Alamo in 1836 fought against overwhelming odds.  The same can be said of university presidents in 2023.”  

Barlow notes that “we are considering names for other groups in higher education: a gathering of department chairs could be called a ‘kerfuffle’, an assembly of deans is without question a ‘disaster’ (the alliteration is a bonus!), a roomful of provosts definitely qualifies as a ‘bottleneck’, a group of chief financial officers constitutes a ‘spreadsheet’, and a bunch of tenured professors would, of course, be an ‘annoyance’.  

“We’re still working on what to call students.”

TRUE FACT #1:  After Deion Sanders became head football coach at the University of Colorado in December 2022, 41 scholarship players on the team left the school via the transfer portal.

TRUE FACT #2:  During that same period, 50 players from other schools used the portal to join the University of Colorado football team.  (DraftKings Network, September 2nd online).  

The Buffaloes, who were 1-11 in 2022, are 3-0 so far this season.  

That was STEP ONE.

Yesterday, the University’s Chancellor, Philip DiStefano, announced STEP TWO, which will take effect next year. 

According to DiStefano, “On January 1, 2024, the University of Colorado will no longer require members of its football team to be enrolled as students at the school.  Simply put, we’re looking for young men who want to play football and are good at it.  We will not discriminate against applicants who may be ‘academically dim’ or have no interest in going to college.  

“Football is not about Renaissance Poetry, World History, or Organic Chemistry.  It’s about football — full stop.  Would you insist that a Professor of Political Science know how to execute a screen pass or a flea flicker?  Of course not.  Then why should we expect a free safety to know the author of Moby Dick or the origins of World War II?  

“Severing the link between student status and football participation will represent a quantum leap forward for both higher education and college football.  In the same way that Hyundai is the Official Car of the NFL, the Buffaloes will be the Official Football Team of the University of Colorado.  It’s just that the players won’t necessarily be students at the University of Colorado.  Is that so hard to understand?  

“At 11:00 pm on January 1st I will be able to go to bed and sleep soundly — with a clear conscience — for the first time since I became Chancellor of this institution.  The days of enrolling our football players in 3-credit courses on how to heat soup in a microwave will be over.  I look forward to long nights of dreaming about gorgeous meadows filled with puppies and butterflies.”

Take note, presidents of colleges and universities across the nation.  You have nothing to lose but your Ambien.  

 

“The Missed Opportunity of Office Hours,” an article in the September 1st issue of The Chronicle of Higher Education, laments, “Meeting with a professor can help students learn, or even change their lives.  So why don’t more students do it?” (p. 29)

Fear not.  Instructors around the country are becoming more proactive in engaging students outside of the classroom.  Consider the following three examples:

—  At UMass-Amherst, Sociology Professor Nevina Praline converted a 50-year-old taco food truck into a recreational cannabis and soft-serve ice cream dispensary (“Sweet Dreams”).  She then set up shop on the perimeter of the campus quadrangle.  Although Sweet Dreams is open to everyone, Praline’s students receive a 20% discount on all purchases.

“There’s nothing like a little weed to loosen students up and make them feel comfortable sharing their concerns about how they’re doing in my course,” says Praline.  “And it gives me the opportunity to offer advice right on the spot.  Of course, the extra income I derive from Sweet Dreams turns this venture into a win-win.  Let’s face it: my salary as an assistant professor sucks.  I can now afford the Camembert Du Bocage at my favorite cheese boutique in town.  Yay!”

—  Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon during the fall semester, Stanford University Finance Professor Grady Spurling carries a folding chair and small table into the all-gender restroom across the hallway from the classroom where he teaches Introduction to Technology Wealth Management, the most popular undergraduate offering at the Palo Alto school. 

Spurling notes that “because my course meets twice a week for three hours with no break, many students REALLY have to pee when class is over.  I station myself right next to the sink section and put an “Open for Business” tent card on the table.  I also place a small bowl of Starburst candies there.  When one of my students stops by for a treat, I strike up a conversation.  The flushing toilets and gurgling urinals can make it difficult for us to hear each other — and don’t get me started on the electric hand dryers that roar like leaf blowers — but the effort is worth it.  In addition, I find out who washes their hands and who doesn’t.  As a result, I’ve stopped shaking hands with most of my male students, especially Virgil.”

—  At Oberlin College last spring, Classics Professor Winston Selbane began phoning his students on a regular basis between 2:00 am and 4:00 am, whispering the greeting, “Yo, wassup, mofo?”

Dr. Selbane is no longer employed at Oberlin.

Yes, reaching out to students can be risky.

But some risks are worth taking.  The future of your students is at stake. 

The latest kerfuffle at Yale University involves the school’s police union, which distributed a flyer to incoming students asserting that crime and violence in New Haven were “shockingly high” and “getting worse,” and stopped just short of claiming that walking the streets of the city at night was akin to playing blindfolded hopscotch in a Ukrainian minefield.  University and public officials were appalled (CNN online, August 26th). 

Let’s turn down the burner under this teapot, shall we?

Making provocative claims has long been standard practice in union-management skirmishes in higher education.  Here’s a sampling from the past decade:

Wellesley College, 2015 — Dining hall workers threatened that they could not guarantee the freshness of the arugula, kale, or Bibb lettuce served in the cafeteria salad bar if their wages remained stagnant.  In a press release, the union stated that “Health-conscious Wellesley students are likely to encounter slimy, oozing greens in the weeks to come, a mucous mess resembling the bubbling contents of a La Brea tar pit.  And diners shouldn’t even look at the adjacent tubs of decomposing blue cheese and ranch dressings.  There are no words to describe what could be metastasizing in there.”

Florida State University, 2018 — Students returning to FSU in the fall found notices in every campus bathroom warning them that Brazilian Leaping Piranha had been discovered in toilet bowls across the university.  The flyers indicated that “two or three Leaping Piranha can shred a pair of adult human buttocks in less than 40 seconds.  Your posterior could be the next victim.  Never sit directly ON an FSU toilet seat; hover several inches above it when doing your business.”  This message came from disgruntled members of the Facilities union, who were planning to strike. 

Marquette University, 2022 — Individuals entering the school’s main library were greeted by a poster proclaiming that “over 7500 college students die every year from paper cuts caused by library books and journals whose page-edges have not been properly varnished by qualified library professionals.  Don’t put yourself at risk.  March with us to the President’s house on Saturday to demand funds for additional library staff.  Or would you rather bleed out in the stacks, with the dust-covered, razor-paged biographies of Robert Louis Stevenson, Samuel Johnson, and Virginia Woolf being the only witnesses to your demise?  It’s your decision.”

Take a deep breath, Yalies.  The chances are good you’ll survive the fall semester.