If you stepped into my administrative office today, you would notice a different layout than that of the typical faculty office. Some examples:
- I have two computer monitors, one on my desk for my use and a second facing three chairs for visitors. The monitors are synced so that guests in my office and I can review the same document.
- Tiny mobile desks are placed in front of every visitor’s chair so people don’t have to use their actual laps for notebooks or laptops.
- My main desk is covered with a glass sheet. Underneath it, I display various infographic cards or cheat sheets answering frequently asked questions such as, “What kind of scholarships do we have for students and how do we award them?” or, “How do we calculate the formula for our return from student tuition?”
In short, over the years as dean, I’ve tried to design and furnish my office with colleagues and collaboration in mind. I realize I may be sitting (literally) in a position of privilege in a state and at a university that generously supports facilities and equipment for administration, research, and teaching. But my point here is that when you become an administrator — whatever your budget — you will have to shift your thinking about your office space and stuff to take public utility and opinion into consideration.
Lately in the Admin 101 column, I’ve been writing about what to expect when you are minding your business and an unforeseen leadership position is suddenly offered to you. In counting down to your first day on the unanticipated job, I’ve explored the mental transition of becoming an “acting” or “interim” chair, associate dean, graduate director, dean, or beyond. Now let’s turn to the big and small logistical preparations you will have to make to ensure a smooth start.
Don’t go overboard on the office redecorating. For symbolic and practical reasons, a sudden leadership appointment of uncertain longevity should never be an opportunity to go hog-wild on office spending (though some people do). Try to limit your purchases to items that are necessary to do the job.
But it also depends on the circumstances.
Let’s say you’re taking over the chair’s position of a small department. It may not have a separate office for you. It’s very likely that whatever computer setup, movie posters, and coffee machine you already have would serve your possibly temporary duties. Perhaps you might want to buy that second monitor or a couple of extra chairs. But overall, it would be considered pretentious and alarming if you brought in an interior designer and an audiovisual overhaul team.
The situation is different if you are becoming a dean or a vice provost with an actual administrative office. The position’s previous occupant may have taken everything, including furniture, in vacating the space. In that case, people will certainly understand if you want to install enough tables, chairs, and technology to do the job. But even then, err on the side of modesty; keep your office design low-key and functional.
Yet don’t, for appearance’s sake, avoid buying what you need to succeed on the job, even for a temporary gig. Academic administrators are asked to balance the requirements of constituents and their own needs versus the funds and resources available. When you move into a new leadership post quite suddenly, you may not realize that your ability to do the job well involves certain physical requisites.
For example, faculty members are typically going to meet with one or two people in their offices, at most. As a dean, however, I’m constantly meeting with groups of various sizes. I installed a round table in my office that allows for an intimate gathering of two to four people. I also have a longer table in an outer office where I can hold meetings of up to a dozen people. Over time, I added some other accessories to ease discussion and interaction, such as a dedicated monitor for each table so we could pull up charts, spreadsheets, and documents. Now, post Covid, I’ve added an Owl video-audio system that allows full interaction with online participants.
Think, too, about the little things that may not be self-evident but will increase your efficiency and your hospitality. I keep a variety of snacks, waters, teas, and coffees to offer people who might be visiting me for hours on end. (I suppose, 30 years ago, deans had wet bars in their office with alcohol options but that’s no longer appropriate now — or possibly even legal.)
Most administrators also set up some sort of closet space where they keep several changes of clothing and footwear. After all, you may suddenly have to transition from attending a formal dinner to a casual event, with no time to go home and change.
You have to prepare to move into your digital space, too. Of the several hundred emails I receive daily, I would estimate that a fourth of them are part of transactional and formal approval processes. Each one required me to either go through some sort of training or figure out a pathway for logging into a campus software system that I didn’t know about before I took the job. Indeed, you will likely have to sign up for some crash courses on your institution’s budget-approval and human-resources systems, among others, before you start work.
Another common issue is the matter of data space. Back when I suddenly became an associate dean for graduate studies and research, I was being copied on dissertations, presentations, and even videos by hundreds of graduate students. I had to ask my department for an extra hard drive just to accommodate all the accumulating data. Nowadays, it’s likely that your university is using cloud storage systems such as Dropbox or OneDrive but even so, you may need to request more space.
Finally, as a professor, you may be contacting hundreds of students via Blackboard or some classroom-management technology. But in my case, as a dean, I’m sending mass emails either to thousands of people within our program or tens of thousands of alumni. I’ve had to request enhanced mailing allowances so I don’t overwhelm the system and get blocked out.
Don’t personalize your office too much, or too little. You don’t want to give an impression of overconfidence (or underconfidence) of your future in the position.
Let me relate how I got in a little bit of trouble and gave the wrong impression via pictures of my cats. When I started my unexpected administration position, I already had an academic office, but the associate dean’s office was a bigger one in a separate building. I knew I was going to be interim for about a year and I wasn’t sure about what would happen after that. Nevertheless, I knew the second office was where I was going to do most of my work. So why not make it my own?
The weekend before I started in the position, I moved in physically but also psychologically. I put my diplomas and awards up on the wall, stacked my books and research papers on the shelves, and didn’t think twice when I placed photos of my wife, children, and cats on my desk.
The very first day on the job, a faculty senior colleague — he was a full professor, and I was still at the associate rank then — dropped by, looked around, raised an eyebrow, and made a comment that surprised and worried me. It was something to the effect of, “My, my, you’re really taking over the office and expect that you’re going to be here forever!” To this day, I don’t think he was being mean-spirited. He was stating the obvious. The office looked so personalized that I was signaling that it would be mine for many years to come even though that had never been discussed. (In fact, within a year, I decided I wanted to go back to my regular faculty job and apply for full professorship before I went into administration full time.)
Maybe I was just nervous and overthinking the situation, but I subsequently reduced the number of personal items (including cat pictures) in my administrative office.
On the other hand, you can radiate an equally negative impression if you go too blank and bare. A colleague who became an interim associate dean of a college in the Northeast told me that she decided not to personalize the administrative office with any items of her own. Soon, she heard back from her dean: “You are hurting your authority by coming off as a drive-by consultant.” She dutifully added some family pictures and diplomas.
There is no perfect formula for how homey or professional your new office should be. Your best bet is to simply pay attention to local culture and faculty impressions.
However many weeks or months until you start this new position, use that run-up period to prepare so that your first day on the job is not a shock in terms of what you need physically, from software to coffee cups. Of course, you have much to learn on the job itself but it’s always good to listen to advice (from staff members and peers) about how to make the transition as smooth as possible. Just keep in mind that the functional can also be political.