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(in press: Assoc. Women in Science Mag.)
Rarely does a young faculty member plan to become a dean. It was not my plan and the path that led me to my current position was not linear, but a
few lessons have been learned along the way. Fortunately, a good lesson came from my first class as an assistant professor, aquatic biology for non-majors. Limnology for majors would have been relatively easy, but
developing a new course for 60 non-majors in an unfamiliar university with no existing text was daunting. However, I discovered that non-majors can take great interest in science, learning complex principles when
effectively engaged and motivated. If we want students to be scientifically literate, we need to find ways to provide challenging and interesting general education experiences. In focusing on the audience, I learned
an important lesson not only in teaching, but also in communicating as a dean on campus or with public constituencies.
The second lesson also came early. At the end of that first year, my contract, like those of nearly all first and second year faculty, was "not
renewed" due to a severe state fiscal crisis. In retrospect, although personally devastating, it was probably the best thing that could have happened. Instead of spending my career in a single institution, I
joined a multidisciplinary team in reconstructing the history of lake and watershed acidification in New England and Norway. From there, I held faculty appointments for the next 13 years while also planning and
implementing large lake surveys and watershed experiments in the U.S. and Scandinavia, directing a research institute, serving on numerous national and international committees, working for the U.S. EPA and
U.S.D.A.-Forest Service, and doing fascinating, collaborative work on ecological risk assessment at the interface of science and policy. I often drew upon these experiences in teaching, especially environmental
conservation for non-majors. I have felt at ease discussing complex issues and topics that involve values, ethics, and perceptionsūdomains that often are foreign to a scientist, because of experience. In my current
capacity as a dean, I am working to broaden the curriculum of our science majors so they are forced to grapple with larger issues of science, technology, and society and conduct applied work, while also encouraging
our faculty to be engaged in such work. Real world experiences help broaden our perspectives.
A third lesson is that one can address a much broader range and complexity of topics when working effectively in teams rather than operating singly
or in isolation. This lesson applies to our work in research or other duties as faculty or deans. In a complex and rapidly changing world and educational landscape, rarely do we work in isolation. The power of
networks and strong teams cannot be over-emphasized. Collaborative efforts provide us critical support and frank counsel. Unfortunately, not everyone understands the benefits of teamwork in research or other
activities. More than once, I have been chagrined to hear concerns in a promotion and tenure process that an applicant had not demonstrated their scholarly work through individual efforts. I speak loudly against
such arguments, in the firm belief that collectively we not only can do more, but we can also do better.
So how did I come to be a dean? Well, first I became an Assistant Dean. As a faculty member, I had a great deal of freedom in teaching and research.
As part of an institutional team at the Asheville Institute on General Education, I worked closely with the Provost and other administrators, demonstrating to them that I was not only a good team player but also was
brimming with energy and ideas. Several months later, I was selected to oversee the curriculum of a College of Arts and Sciences and the University's General Education program to implement a "redefined"
baccalaureate degree.
It was hard to say no to the urging of a provost and dean to accept the Assistant Dean position, but why yes? Beyond experiences and beliefs
mentioned above, I had recently designed science institutes for middle school girls, helped conduct summer workshops for elementary school teachers to improve science competency, and conducted collaborative research
with undergraduates. How could I say no? The position represented a real opportunity to improve teaching across the disciplines and address science and mathematics competency of all students, including pre- and
in-service teachers and non-majors. Yes, we can be leaders without official positions, but sometimes they allow us to do more than we could otherwise, in part because of operating on different levels or with other
audiences. Many no doubt wondered why I would be interested and why I would "give up" my research and other work.
After serving as Assistant Dean, becoming Dean was a relatively direct step, in spite of the reservations of some members of search committees who
wondered how I could be dean if I had never been a department chair. In contrast, I am convinced that leadership and other learning is transferable.
I found an institution that is a student-centered learning environment in which the strategic plan suggested forward motion and more responsiveness
to the needs of the community and region. I saw tremendous opportunities to develop programs and connections with business and industry around Baltimore and with agencies and organizations in Washington, DC. I
became a dean in order to implement my vision for science and mathematics education, which continues to evolve through collaborations with colleagues here and elsewhere. However, it is not possible for me to do this
without enabling talented faculty to accomplish their dreams by supporting their efforts. Consequently, we need ongoing professional development and leadership training for our existing faculty and to help us search
for new faculty.
Deans, like faculty, must balance their time among many demands. Some of us try very hard to maintain connections with our disciplines and remain
active in research or other scholarly work. It is not easy. We also miss connections with students, but can benefit from ongoing conversations in seminars, classes, and other settingsūas well as teaching when
possible. Just as faculty balance activities, we must find the best mix for ourselves, lest we become disconnected from our disciplines or students and begin to introduce ourselves as "I used to be a . . .
."
If I were to condense some of these lessons into advice it would be to define the best role for yourself, recognizing that we are not all alike and
often have very different talents which, of course, leads to added strength in a team. Take advantage of opportunities or new circumstances, however they come about, and continue to learn from the experiences.
Strategically tackle things you think are important, but also of special interest to you and things you believe in. And, perhaps above all, enjoy what you are doing, take time for yourself, and be of good humor as
you work with others to implement a shared vision.
[This text is based on remarks given to the Project Kaleidoscope National Assembly, 20 September 1998.]
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