administriva
Music: Passion Pit: Manners (2009)
I had a delightful lunch with a friend who was just promoted to full professorship and is now suddenly (that is, somewhat unexpectedly) contemplating being appointed chair of her department. As someone who has just been passed to associate, the conversation was informative, for all those projective reasons one would imagine. As my advisees would be quick to report, I'm not the best administrator. So chatting with my friend about potentially administering a department was fascinating to me. She's in such a different place than I am in---and her grasp of what it takes to carry an academic department is beyond my comprehension.
I've often joked---because it is true---my advisees are more mature than I am. So the thought of someone close-ish to my age getting all administratish . . . er, it scares me. But, then again, I recognize competence knows no age.
Perhaps because I'm nearing my "late thirties," I'm noticing this more: my friends are becoming leaders. They're chairing national committees. They're directing centers. They're becoming directors of graduate studies. They're starting to chair departments. I am proud of their leadershipy acumen, and admiring---and I'm terrified I'll be called on to do the same at some point. Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Given my personality, I don't think I'll be called upon soon.
I think the difficulty is this: to be an administrator one cannot be a sensitive person. Now, the (American Heritage) dictionary definition of "sensitive" is "having or displaying a quick and delicate appreciation of others' feelings." But I think this misses what I mean by sensitive. What I mean is also how one deals with that appreciation, how one internalizes it. Speaking only for myself (of course, because I'm sensitive), when another's feelings are bruised or hurt, I feel guilty. Even if I'm not the person to blame, or am not the one truly at fault, I tend to carry guilt when someone feels wronged or aggrieved. I don't think I would ever be a good administrator because I would feel bad if someone else felt bad. And in ANY line of work, people feeling bad is inevitable.
I cannot help but think of my chair and how he administers our department. Frankly, I cannot envision or conjure a better chair. He is sensitive in the right way---that is, he has a delicate appreciation of others' feelings---but somehow he manages not to be sensitive in the way I would be (feeling guilt when others are unhappy). Perhaps he does, I'm not in his head, but it seems to me a tough row regardless. Guiding any group of people in an organization larger than two or three requires a skill and certain management of heart. My chair has a seemingly endless depth of humor---a sense of the comic---that I think really carries my colleagues and me. If I've learned anything from my immediate boss, it's that a sense of humor and joy in living makes "work" worth working.
These musings lead me, of course, to thinking about humor and governance. On the one hand, humor can run cover for the inhumane, and I think we have a deep well of examples where humor has helped to mask a deep inhumanity---a lesson for those who celebrate the parodic in the public domain as corrective to political malfeasance. On the other hand, without laughter, what is the worth of work?
I cannot imagine administrating for anyone unless I can encourage laughter. I applaud and readily support those who can. Leaders who cannot laugh are suspect, and leaders who cannot make us laugh are not leaders. And while we should always be suspicious of laughter, we should be most especially concerned if there is no laughter. Laughter is the sole province of the human. Without laughter, we are machine.