I participated in a short-listing meeting yesterday for a part time post coming up at Naval City University. This is the first time I have witnessed, let alone been part of, this kind of thing, and, despite now being in an open-ended post, I found the whole process a painful experience. It was a reminder to me (as if I needed one!) of how many applications I sent before I got shortlisted for my job twelve months ago, and how lucky I am to have it.
So many highly qualified people (some much better qualified in terms of publications than I am) who could not be shortlisted because they didn't quite fit the detail of what the department was looking for, or because, whilst they had books /articles forthcoming, these were not yet in press whereas those shortlisted had items out already. Of course, this is quite right - the person hired has to 'fit the bill' in more ways than one, and research output matters, especially in the run up to REF.
The process has made me approach my research with renewed energy, if only to prove to myself that I deserve the job I have. I certainly didn't get it by any favouritism or favour (I didn't know anyone who worked here before I was offered the job, so I got it on the merits of my application and interview) but I still have to pinch myself sometimes when I remember the position I was in at this time last year - I'd almost given up hope of getting a salaried academic post, having not made it onto a shortlist for a job I had been doing for much less money for 3 years.
I am grateful that, somehow, I got on to the list of candidates for inteview for this job (it was this time last year I was on my way down to the interview) and that I managed to give a presentation and interview that convinced the School to employ me. It was the first permanent job for which I had been shortlisted, and I couldn't quite believe it when I was offered the job. (I think I actually said, "Really?" to the Head of School when he phoned me.) I must continue to work hard to make sure I don't let them down.
Thursday 21 June 2012
Wednesday 20 June 2012
Beautiful Beliefs (5)
I believe that...
My colleagues and I were obliged to attend a staff development event this week in order to prepare us for the challenges of the next academic year. In its wisdom, the university has decided that 2012-13 is the year to introduce a radical overhaul of the academic structure and curriculum, despite the upheaval and uncertainty coming our way as a result of the government’s raising of tuition fees for students. For those who are not aware of this, the amount a degree costs is not changing; what is changing is the proportion of that cost borne by the student themselves instead of government funding. Many students will not appreciate this subtle difference and will insist on ‘more for their money’ since they are paying more. This staff development event was to alert us to the changes coming and to tell us about other university developments alongside changes brought about by the new curriculum.
It was not a successful day from the perspective of most academic staff. We were told things we already knew, and we were not given the opportunity to ask questions regarding what we did not or to comment on management plans. It did little to raise staff morale after what has been a very difficult transitional year. I am new to the department this year, and the strain of the new curriculum is already taking a toll. I imagine that my colleagues who have been dealing with this for much longer than I have must feel terribly ground down.
Faculty management, throughout the day, told us that in the future we must listen to the students, ask for their feedback, respond to their feedback, help them set goals for the future, and – importantly – make sure they know that we care. What was shockingly poor about this address was that it implied that we were not already doing those things; that up to this point, we have not cared about our students, their degree or their circumstances. At no point did anyone say, ‘You’ve all done a great job this year. Keep it up!’.
No one came away from the day feeling motivated, appreciated or looking forward to the future or any more prepared than they were before this compulsory event. Many of my colleagues are looking for jobs elsewhere. But they wouldn’t be if they felt that they were heard, appreciated, supported in their academic endeavours. They (we) work very hard for the students, and to keep up with research despite a struggle for institutional support. A ‘well done’ or ‘keep it up’ or ‘thank you for all your efforts’ would have gone a very long way.
This is not a post to big up my own efforts though, and ‘hard working’ doesn’t only apply to academics! I miss the friendly and brilliant admin support that we had at my previous institution, and realise that whilst I never took this support entirely for granted, I didn't fully appreciate how much the undergrad secretaries did for tutors above and beyond what happens elsewhere. Here at Naval City University, the cleaners come into our offices to empty the bins and vacuum the floor. I appreciate that I no longer have to empty my own bin (office dustbins were neither supplied nor empied at the University in the City where the Castle is also a Prison) and that at least once a week my carpet is fluff-free.
However small or large the task, acknowledging others' efforts can make a big difference. Say thank you to your mum or dad or other loved ones (thank you to the Physio for making me dinner!); to the administrator, the cleaner, the bus driver, the waiter, the nurse, teacher, cashier, librarian, etc., etc., etc.
Most people who deserve acknowledgement do not go out of their way to seek it - they just get on with their tasks. That does not mean they shouldn’t get it.
This post is connected to Amy's Beautiful Belief's project.
It is easy to take hard working people for granted, but we shouldn’t!
My colleagues and I were obliged to attend a staff development event this week in order to prepare us for the challenges of the next academic year. In its wisdom, the university has decided that 2012-13 is the year to introduce a radical overhaul of the academic structure and curriculum, despite the upheaval and uncertainty coming our way as a result of the government’s raising of tuition fees for students. For those who are not aware of this, the amount a degree costs is not changing; what is changing is the proportion of that cost borne by the student themselves instead of government funding. Many students will not appreciate this subtle difference and will insist on ‘more for their money’ since they are paying more. This staff development event was to alert us to the changes coming and to tell us about other university developments alongside changes brought about by the new curriculum.
It was not a successful day from the perspective of most academic staff. We were told things we already knew, and we were not given the opportunity to ask questions regarding what we did not or to comment on management plans. It did little to raise staff morale after what has been a very difficult transitional year. I am new to the department this year, and the strain of the new curriculum is already taking a toll. I imagine that my colleagues who have been dealing with this for much longer than I have must feel terribly ground down.
Faculty management, throughout the day, told us that in the future we must listen to the students, ask for their feedback, respond to their feedback, help them set goals for the future, and – importantly – make sure they know that we care. What was shockingly poor about this address was that it implied that we were not already doing those things; that up to this point, we have not cared about our students, their degree or their circumstances. At no point did anyone say, ‘You’ve all done a great job this year. Keep it up!’.
No one came away from the day feeling motivated, appreciated or looking forward to the future or any more prepared than they were before this compulsory event. Many of my colleagues are looking for jobs elsewhere. But they wouldn’t be if they felt that they were heard, appreciated, supported in their academic endeavours. They (we) work very hard for the students, and to keep up with research despite a struggle for institutional support. A ‘well done’ or ‘keep it up’ or ‘thank you for all your efforts’ would have gone a very long way.
This is not a post to big up my own efforts though, and ‘hard working’ doesn’t only apply to academics! I miss the friendly and brilliant admin support that we had at my previous institution, and realise that whilst I never took this support entirely for granted, I didn't fully appreciate how much the undergrad secretaries did for tutors above and beyond what happens elsewhere. Here at Naval City University, the cleaners come into our offices to empty the bins and vacuum the floor. I appreciate that I no longer have to empty my own bin (office dustbins were neither supplied nor empied at the University in the City where the Castle is also a Prison) and that at least once a week my carpet is fluff-free.
However small or large the task, acknowledging others' efforts can make a big difference. Say thank you to your mum or dad or other loved ones (thank you to the Physio for making me dinner!); to the administrator, the cleaner, the bus driver, the waiter, the nurse, teacher, cashier, librarian, etc., etc., etc.
Most people who deserve acknowledgement do not go out of their way to seek it - they just get on with their tasks. That does not mean they shouldn’t get it.
This post is connected to Amy's Beautiful Belief's project.
Wednesday 13 June 2012
Beautiful Beliefs (4)
I believe that...
I have thought this for some time, but I am reminded of it often at the pelican crossings near where I work. There are 11 of them covering 3 major junctions. To me, this suggests that walking into the road when the red man is showing means imminent danger of death, so I wait for the green man. Sometimes the road is clear – but it’s a very busy road and won’t stay that way for long. Others, however, arrive at the road, give a quick look to see if there is any traffic on its way, and then walk or run across, looking at me as if I'm mad for just standing there. Sometimes, the distance between them and the oncoming traffic is so small that I, safe on the pavement, am frightened of the potential accident. And I wonder to myself if what they are hurrying towards is worth that risk, to themselves or to the drivers. I suspect, for most of them, it is not. It is just that they do not want to stand at the side of the road for the 2 minutes it will take for the lights to change and the green man to appear. Why and how have we, collectively, lost the ability to just stand still and wait?
I notice this at bus stops too. No amount of looking at your watch or complaining will make the bus that is not-yet-but-might-be-late arrive any sooner. I understand the complaints when the bus is very late, or it is very cold, or someone has an important appointment to make and needs it to be on time (get an earlier bus?), but the lack of patience – the difficulties some people encounter in just waiting – puzzles me.
I like to watch the dogs playing in the park over the road. Or watch the clouds moving in the sky. Or just move my weight from one foot to the other (maybe other people waiting for the bus think I’m crazy and are in a hurry to get away?) whilst I listen to whatever soundtrack I have playing in my head that day.
Last week Amy wrote about her experience in yoga practice; about the stillness and peace of savasana. I enjoy this pose too, and all of the other yoga poses that, whilst stretching muscles I’d forgotten about, allow me to be still within my body and within my mind (the latter sometimes takes some effort), not hurrying anywhere, physically or mentally.
Stillness is under-rated. Why the hurry?
This post is related to Amy's Beautiful Beliefs writing circle.
We are all in too much of a hurry.
I have thought this for some time, but I am reminded of it often at the pelican crossings near where I work. There are 11 of them covering 3 major junctions. To me, this suggests that walking into the road when the red man is showing means imminent danger of death, so I wait for the green man. Sometimes the road is clear – but it’s a very busy road and won’t stay that way for long. Others, however, arrive at the road, give a quick look to see if there is any traffic on its way, and then walk or run across, looking at me as if I'm mad for just standing there. Sometimes, the distance between them and the oncoming traffic is so small that I, safe on the pavement, am frightened of the potential accident. And I wonder to myself if what they are hurrying towards is worth that risk, to themselves or to the drivers. I suspect, for most of them, it is not. It is just that they do not want to stand at the side of the road for the 2 minutes it will take for the lights to change and the green man to appear. Why and how have we, collectively, lost the ability to just stand still and wait?
I notice this at bus stops too. No amount of looking at your watch or complaining will make the bus that is not-yet-but-might-be-late arrive any sooner. I understand the complaints when the bus is very late, or it is very cold, or someone has an important appointment to make and needs it to be on time (get an earlier bus?), but the lack of patience – the difficulties some people encounter in just waiting – puzzles me.
I like to watch the dogs playing in the park over the road. Or watch the clouds moving in the sky. Or just move my weight from one foot to the other (maybe other people waiting for the bus think I’m crazy and are in a hurry to get away?) whilst I listen to whatever soundtrack I have playing in my head that day.
Last week Amy wrote about her experience in yoga practice; about the stillness and peace of savasana. I enjoy this pose too, and all of the other yoga poses that, whilst stretching muscles I’d forgotten about, allow me to be still within my body and within my mind (the latter sometimes takes some effort), not hurrying anywhere, physically or mentally.
Stillness is under-rated. Why the hurry?
This post is related to Amy's Beautiful Beliefs writing circle.
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