> Skip to content
FEATURED:
  • The Evolution of Race in Admissions
Sign In
  • News
  • Advice
  • The Review
  • Data
  • Current Issue
  • Virtual Events
  • Store
    • Featured Products
    • Reports
    • Data
    • Collections
    • Back Issues
    • Featured Products
    • Reports
    • Data
    • Collections
    • Back Issues
  • Jobs
    • Find a Job
    • Post a Job
    • Find a Job
    • Post a Job
Sign In
  • News
  • Advice
  • The Review
  • Data
  • Current Issue
  • Virtual Events
  • Store
    • Featured Products
    • Reports
    • Data
    • Collections
    • Back Issues
    • Featured Products
    • Reports
    • Data
    • Collections
    • Back Issues
  • Jobs
    • Find a Job
    • Post a Job
    • Find a Job
    • Post a Job
  • News
  • Advice
  • The Review
  • Data
  • Current Issue
  • Virtual Events
  • Store
    • Featured Products
    • Reports
    • Data
    • Collections
    • Back Issues
    • Featured Products
    • Reports
    • Data
    • Collections
    • Back Issues
  • Jobs
    • Find a Job
    • Post a Job
    • Find a Job
    • Post a Job
Sign In
ADVERTISEMENT
The Review
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn
  • Show more sharing options
Share
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Copy Link URLCopied!
  • Print

True Confessions of a Reluctant Administrator

By  Thomas Cogswell
May 20, 2018
True Confessions of a Reluctant Administrator 1
Nicolas Ogonosky for The Chronicle

Imagine that this is a 12-step program and that I am standing before you, tearfully confessing my transgressions. They began years ago, when I was a new assistant professor.

In the job interview, I had confidently said that of course I could teach a wide range of courses. In practice, however, those courses reduced me to a wreck, sleeping little, guzzling far too much coffee, and scrambling to stay one lecture ahead of the undergraduates. An innocent question — professor, where will we be in the course by midterm? — made me break into a cold sweat. Truth be told, I had no idea. Teaching consumed all my time, pushing aside even my beloved research. In the circumstances, doing service sounded like a nightmare.

We’re sorry. Something went wrong.

We are unable to fully display the content of this page.

The most likely cause of this is a content blocker on your computer or network. Please make sure your computer, VPN, or network allows javascript and allows content to be delivered from c950.chronicle.com and chronicle.blueconic.net.

Once javascript and access to those URLs are allowed, please refresh this page. You may then be asked to log in, create an account if you don't already have one, or subscribe.

If you continue to experience issues, contact us at 202-466-1032 or help@chronicle.com

Imagine that this is a 12-step program and that I am standing before you, tearfully confessing my transgressions. They began years ago, when I was a new assistant professor.

In the job interview, I had confidently said that of course I could teach a wide range of courses. In practice, however, those courses reduced me to a wreck, sleeping little, guzzling far too much coffee, and scrambling to stay one lecture ahead of the undergraduates. An innocent question — professor, where will we be in the course by midterm? — made me break into a cold sweat. Truth be told, I had no idea. Teaching consumed all my time, pushing aside even my beloved research. In the circumstances, doing service sounded like a nightmare.

So it was that I, the invisible man who fancied himself a rogue agent, found myself with a budget.

To compound my problems, I fell in with a bad crowd, some newly promoted associate professors who openly mocked committee work. Nothing mattered, they assured me, except research and teaching. One thing led to another, and I began tossing out campus mail unopened and blowing off department meetings. Soon I was on to the hard stuff, and I accidentally forgot about university committee assignments.

As my downward slide accelerated, I began avoiding the department altogether. I went directly from home to my classroom and back again. I even moved my office hours to a local coffee shop, information I gave out only to my students. So deeply had I internalized the pursuit of anonymity — too much Borges and le Carré — that on absolutely essential visits to the department to fetch mail or a ream of paper, I used the back stairs.

Late one night, I slipped up. Lazily I took the elevator, thinking everyone else had gone. Then the dean stepped in. It was easy to intuit his thoughts: Someone in early middle age and so badly dressed was not likely to be a student, but who was this person? I felt his searching gaze but resolutely looked straight ahead — into the wall. He soon exited, shaking his head. I am ashamed to say that at the time I was delighted.

ADVERTISEMENT

Idea Lab Commiittee
Making Committee Service Count
Serving on faculty panels is often seen as a thankless task, but colleges can make it more rewarding by agreeing on goals and spreading the work fairly.
  • Making Committee Service Count
  • Embracing Governance — and Efficiency
  • Who’s Doing What, and Who’s Getting What?

A year later, a mysterious visitor lurking outside my classroom brought me back to reality. Politely he introduced himself. He was the new dean. Apparently, I had thrown away requests to get together. Curious to discover what I looked like, he had tracked me down. Embarrassed and a touch alarmed, I tried to talk about my research. But he interrupted and requested a favor. He wanted me to serve on a committee about a new undergraduate program. The faintest smile on my lips — another committee to blow off — promptly vanished when he let drop that he had scheduled the first meeting to begin immediately after my class. And oh, he added, he would chair the committee.

The rest was history. Unable to wiggle out of the assignment, I found that my only option was to be contrary and pray for a prompt dismissal. Dutifully I read up on the background material and soon spotted several problems with the proposal. At the first meeting, I let fly, marshaling serious objections one after another. The other committee members became agitated, and, as I had expected, the meeting became a shouting match. The dean then announced his decision. There would be two new undergraduate programs — and I was to head one of them. I was dumbfounded. He grinned broadly.

So it was that I, the invisible man who fancied himself a rogue agent, found myself with a budget, a full-time staff member, several student interns, 100 first-year students, and a burgeoning administrative career. No one was more surprised than I was.

The faculty, I belatedly learned, runs the modern university, and notwithstanding the joys of anonymity, it soon proved more interesting — and certainly more fun — to be part of that collective effort of ensuring that it runs smoothly.

In later years, the memory of this embarrassing episode has always guided me when considering whom to name to a committee. Tempting though it is to finger senior malingerers, skivers who have avoided service for decades, this rarely ends well. A far better move is to look for junior colleagues — especially those who never seem to be able to make department meetings.

ADVERTISEMENT

Thomas Cogswell is a professor of history at the University of California at Riverside.

A version of this article appeared in the May 25, 2018, issue.
We welcome your thoughts and questions about this article. Please email the editors or submit a letter for publication.
Opinion
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
  • Explore
    • Get Newsletters
    • Letters
    • Free Reports and Guides
    • Blogs
    • Virtual Events
    • Chronicle Store
    • Find a Job
    Explore
    • Get Newsletters
    • Letters
    • Free Reports and Guides
    • Blogs
    • Virtual Events
    • Chronicle Store
    • Find a Job
  • The Chronicle
    • About Us
    • DEI Commitment Statement
    • Write for Us
    • Talk to Us
    • Work at The Chronicle
    • User Agreement
    • Privacy Policy
    • California Privacy Policy
    • Site Map
    • Accessibility Statement
    The Chronicle
    • About Us
    • DEI Commitment Statement
    • Write for Us
    • Talk to Us
    • Work at The Chronicle
    • User Agreement
    • Privacy Policy
    • California Privacy Policy
    • Site Map
    • Accessibility Statement
  • Customer Assistance
    • Contact Us
    • Advertise With Us
    • Post a Job
    • Advertising Terms and Conditions
    • Reprints & Permissions
    • Do Not Sell My Personal Information
    Customer Assistance
    • Contact Us
    • Advertise With Us
    • Post a Job
    • Advertising Terms and Conditions
    • Reprints & Permissions
    • Do Not Sell My Personal Information
  • Subscribe
    • Individual Subscriptions
    • Institutional Subscriptions
    • Subscription & Account FAQ
    • Manage Newsletters
    • Manage Your Account
    Subscribe
    • Individual Subscriptions
    • Institutional Subscriptions
    • Subscription & Account FAQ
    • Manage Newsletters
    • Manage Your Account
1255 23rd Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20037
© 2023 The Chronicle of Higher Education
  • twitter
  • instagram
  • youtube
  • facebook
  • linkedin