Editor’s note: In this series, the author of a new book, How to Chair a Department, answers your questions about departmental leadership. Queries can be sent via Twitter, Facebook, and email. Read last month’s column here.
Question: Since this is a once-a-month column and not a hotline, by the time you answer this — should you choose to answer this — I will have figured something out. Or not. But maybe for next time, or posterity, or the benefit of others: I write on the last Friday of the summer break at my institution. Classes begin on Monday. And today I got an email from a new tenure-track hire informing me that she had decided against taking the job. Fortunately, she was only scheduled to teach one course this semester. Unfortunately — though typically I’d be crowing to the dean about my department’s healthy enrollments — the course was full.
Under these circumstances, what can I be expected to do? What are my options?
— Left Holding the Bag
Dear Bag Holder:
I have so many questions: Did she get cold feet? Or a better offer? Did she enter a witness-protection program? Did her email begin, “It’s not you, it’s me”?
In all seriousness, though, I’ve got an ache in the pit of my stomach just reading your note. I’ve never been left high and dry in quite the way you describe, though I have had critical medical situations take colleagues out of the classroom for much or all of the semester on very short notice. Such predicaments serve to underscore an anomaly in the American education system: College and university faculty members enjoy an almost unprecedented amount of job freedom but, in some respects, we also fly without a net. We don’t have access to what, in high school, we called “subs.”
To a certain degree, department faculty members can fill in for one another. Just as often, we’ll reschedule (or cancel) class when we’re forced to miss. But there’s no pool from which we can draw in such one-off circumstances — never mind a situation like yours, when the “absence” will be for the entire semester (and year, I presume).
I know that Robert Plant says “there are two paths you can go by,” but in this case I think you actually have three. And none of them is particularly appealing. If we can turn back the clock a bit, here are your immediate options:
Do a quick-and-dirty “search” for a temporary hire. You could (with your dean’s assurance of financial support) try a mass email, and perhaps targeted phone calls, to find a visiting instructor who could take over the class. Hiring an instructor at the 11th hour means that, even if you succeed, the replacement almost certainly won’t be ideally qualified for the assignment. You’ll also be bringing that person on with insufficient time to prepare for the course so quality control is out the window. All signs point toward a disappointing experience for your students.
Look for a replacement inhouse. Ask around in the department to see whether anyone might be willing to pick up the course. Again, there may be questions of expertise, not to mention workload. If you just happen to have a colleague who isn’t teaching a full load and would like to pick up an extra course, and whose expertise makes them a good (or at least plausible) fit for the course … yeah, that’s probably not going to happen. But someone might be willing to take one for the team. As a next-to-last resort, you might even step in and teach it yourself. This extra work would have to be compensated, of course. The money that would be paid to an adjunct could be directed toward your colleague volunteer (or yourself). And if your institution doesn’t allow this, the extra course this term could be offset by a course reduction in the next semester. (A “deferred credit” deal wouldn’t particularly make any sense for someone teaching part-time.)
Just cancel the class. Email the enrolled students, offer as much of an explanation as you’re comfortable with, convey your apologies, and point them toward other courses with open seats. None of the senior leaders you report to (dean, provost) will be happy about the cancellation of a fully enrolled course; it’s not a good look for the institution.
Once you’ve handled the immediate course-scheduling problem, it’s time to figure out if any systemic issues may have contributed to this precipitous resignation. I’m spit-balling here but perhaps this new hire was unhappy with the starting salary or reimbursement for moving expenses, or maybe there were problems in your screening-and-hiring procedures. Your drastic action of canceling the course might provide an opening for some much-needed conversations.
I’d recommend you start with two such conversations: one with the no-show faculty member and one with your dean:
- Your would-be colleague may be reluctant to talk with you, of course. But if she is willing, it would be invaluable to know, rather than just speculate about, the factors that contributed to her change of heart. It may be that there was nothing anyone might have done: Perhaps her appointment was predicated on the completion of a Ph.D., which … didn’t get completed. Or maybe the complication of partner considerations — rather than being worked out before accepting the job offer — reared its ugly head at the last minute.
- Armed with this information (if you can get it), you’ll want to talk to your dean about what might have gone wrong at each of the various levels of the hiring process (search committee, department, school/college, university). The larger issue is how to avoid such a disappointment in future searches. Faculty searches are expensive in both human and financial terms: This failed search has cost you, your colleagues, and your dean a great deal. If the failure was sui generis, all you can do is lick your wounds and secure the resources from your dean to reopen the search and help your department heal. If instead your offer was, in some respect, not competitive, your dean should want to know that. And if your search process is fatally flawed in some way, both you and your dean have some work to do.
Question: I have an administrative assistant who has been in the role for almost a year. She struggles to get everything done that her job demands within her work week. I’ve spoken with other chairs in the college, and their admins don’t have this problem. I’m trying to uncover whether there truly is more work than there is time, or whether this is an inefficient worker who could benefit from some training. Any insight into how to conquer this challenge?
— Watching With Growing Concern
Dear Watching,
Can I start by saying how refreshingly nonirritated you sound? I may be reading too much into your short note: I’m an English professor; it’s an occupational hazard. But I’m struck that your instincts are to support and train the assistant rather than discipline or replace her. Huzzah, as British schoolboys say in late-19th-century novels.
Too much work, or too inefficient a worker? Without knowing all the details, I think there would be ways to figure that out. Assuming that yours isn’t a brand-new department, your administrative assistant filled a vacancy. Did her predecessor manage the workload better than she is doing? If so — and if the demands of the job haven’t changed significantly in the past year — I think Occam’s razor would point to performance as the problem (though to be fair, no one performs at their best when a razor is pointed at them).
So I’m working on the assumption that it’s your staff colleague’s performance that’s the issue here. You mention that she’s been in the position “almost a year.” That timing provides the perfect pretext — whether mandated by your HR department or not — to schedule an informal (conversational, face-to-face) performance review, to be followed up with something in writing for the personnel files.
Such a conversation is easy to sketch out, if difficult to have in person. But it might go something like this: You’ve had a year to learn the job, but the work still isn’t being completed in a timely way. I want to support you so that you can be successful. What’s your sense of what’s causing the problem? Are there particular kinds of changes to your working conditions (e.g., workspace, working hours) that would help? Are there professional-development opportunities you’d like to take advantage of to hone your skills?
Before assuming our roles as chairs, most of us have never been bosses. After 15 years, that role still feels uncomfortable to me. But your staff deserve to have a good boss, and good bosses are good, or get better, at having difficult conversations. If your administrative assistant is chronically behind in her work, she’s likely no happier about it than you are. It’s time to sit down and have a conversation with the one person who might really help you get to the bottom of it. I hope it goes well.
