Note: In the “Ask the Chair” series, the author of How to Chair a Department answers your questions about departmental leadership. Send your queries via Twitter, Facebook, or email. Read previous columns here.
Question: I’m moving to a new institution as dean and am planning a retreat for department chairs. What topics should I include?
Signed,
New Sheriff in Town
Dear New Sheriff,
Congratulations on the new gig. You’ve clearly already mastered one of the critical life skills for a dean: writing brief emails. (Plenty of us could use some coaching on that front. I haven’t even started to answer your question and I’ve already written more than you did.)
To start with a retreat is a very smart idea (albeit a terrible sentence). Retreat is a military term, of course. And while one might picture the cavalry in chaotic flight, the point here isn’t the withdrawal from battle, although that metaphor certainly resonates. Rather, it’s about regrouping in a quiet place to reconnect with one another, take stock, and create a shared vision. Beginning by retreating.
When I took my first chair’s job — as an “outside chair,” chosen in a national search — my dean (also new to the institution) chose to begin her tenure by taking all of us chairs on a retreat. It’s been many years now, but I remember it fondly. We had a picnic at a nearby national park where we started to get acquainted (“Shirley,” she told us, “not Dean Scott”). She told us a bit about herself and her scholarly and administrative background, and started to learn about ours.
As a newcomer, I occupied an anomalous position. For me, the retreat was a chance to get acquainted not just with my new boss but also with my fellow department heads. In truth, though, it provided that same opportunity for everyone: Some of these chairs had been on the faculty for decades yet their work within departmental silos meant that they very rarely interacted with one another. The weather cooperated and we had an enjoyable, low-stakes day of sharing challenges, fostering relationships, and building a community of faculty leaders to move the institution forward.
As a new dean, it seems, you’ll be in an analogous situation — introducing yourself to your department heads, giving them a sense of your priorities and your leadership style, and trying to learn something about their own priorities, needs, and experiences.
You asked about which topics to include in a retreat but that depends to a large extent on your local situation, which I know nothing about. Instead I’ll focus on the strategic components of a successful retreat. Thinking back to that inaugural retreat — and thinking, too, about what I would hope to take away now from such a gathering with a new dean — I’ve settled on 10 essential components. (Call me Moses: I just love a list of 10.)
No. 1: Find an off-campus venue. It doesn’t have to be fancy — indeed, extravagance can send the wrong message. But it’s essential that the retreat not take place in the same environment as your day-to-day work. Spaces can constrain our thinking. Brainstorming undertaken within campus settings always risks replicating institutional thinking, and you want a fresh start.
No. 2: Provide tasty/fun catering (without breaking the budget). At a minimum, arrange some kind of box lunch or light buffet (or just pizzas and salad) to break the day into “before” and “after” lunch. People need some depressurized time for refueling and connecting between the meatier discussions. Don’t forget the coffee (and, perhaps, pastries, fruit, and juice) at the start of the day, and mention it in the email invitation to incentivize folks to arrive early. Keep the coffee flowing, at least through early afternoon.
No. 3: Start with an icebreaker; end with a social hour. Plan the day’s schedule to mirror the shape of a bell curve — a slow, rising pace at the start and a gentle transition from “work” back to “life” at the end of the day. Often, in cultures and institutions that allow for it, the day’s end means beer and wine for those who partake and something equally refreshing for those who don’t. Maybe some finger food to encourage lingering and farewell conversation. Depending on the location of the retreat and your institutional culture, spouses and partners might be invited to join.
No. 4: Consider giving a “door prize.” It doesn’t have to be anything lavish: an institutionally branded notebook and pen for taking notes during the retreat; a university coffee cup or water bottle; a tote bag. You know, the usual fund-raising swag (your alumni office may have free goodies you can distribute). Feeling really generous? Buy your chairs copies of my new book, How to Chair a Department; volume discounts are available. (Kidding/not kidding.) OK, fine, it can be any book.
No. 5: Present your understanding of the institution’s strategic vision. This wouldn’t be quite a “state of the union,” since you’ll only recently have arrived on the campus. Think of this, instead, as a version of some of the conversations you navigated, successfully, with the search committee. Department heads will be looking for some information about what attracted you to the position, how you understand your role, where you see potential, what challenges you already know that you’ll be facing. Be careful, however, not to seem to be singling out favored departments or programs.
No. 6: Provide opportunities for small-group conversations. Rather than spending the whole day talking with your chairs en masse, take opportunities to break them up into smaller groups. Give them some work to do, some problems to solve, or at least chew on, together. It will give you some insight into their personalities and leadership styles, and you might even move some work forward.
No. 7: Show you are open to learning from them. These folks are, of course, the institutional memory: Only a fool would ignore their wisdom. Think of a question (this could be your icebreaker) for each chair to answer. You could, for instance, ask each person to share a story they see as representative of the institution (or of their department) at its best. What William Faulkner said about U.S. history is equally true for departmental and institutional history: “The past is never dead. It isn’t even past.” Do your best — within reason (see No. 8) — to keep an open mind.
No. 8: Exercise a healthy skepticism toward revelations from your chairs. Not to cancel out No. 7 entirely, but you’d be naïve to forget that people have agendas. If you’ve gathered together 15 chairs, there will be 15 different stories of the institution. And they’re not just different; in some cases they’re irreconcilable (Faulkner is again apposite here). Try to take it all in without, at this early stage, taking it all on as gospel.
No. 9: Communicate how you will support them in the difficult work they do. Whether the pandemic has actually made chairing more difficult or simply called our attention to how difficult it has always been, my recent conversations with deans and provosts suggest that chairs at this moment are feeling the burden acutely. It has become increasingly challenging to recruit and retain good chairs; like the rest of the U.S. work force, chairs are “quiet quitting,” too. Simply knowing that their work is recognized and valued isn’t enough to correct this. But without that? Fuhgeddaboudit.
No. 10: Set a precedent for your communication style. My ex-dean Shirley was a wisecracker; your email suggests that you prefer to get straight to the point. Which is fine, of course. Good leaders come in many varieties; Shirley’s shoot-from-the-hip style won her admiration for her candor, and more than once a scolding from the provost. More than any particular piece of information about programs and planning, your chairs will be trying to figure out who you are, and how they can most productively work with you to further the interests of their department. Give them the gift of being your authentic self.
