LAHC Dean's Blog – dispatches from the dean

And everything under the sun is in tune

But the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

Recognize those lines? Yes, it’s from “Eclipse” by The Pink Floyd, the final track on Dark Side of the Moon. It also happens to be the epigram I chose for my dissertation on metaphysical method.

Eclipses have played a significant role in human history, mostly because of their power to scare the shit out of us. Consider the many peoples on this little planet who experienced the eclipse as a harbinger of The End, as signs of the wrath of some divine being or other, or as the unraveling of the fabric of nature.

Owning Your Leadership

I want to start this reflection by sharing something with you: I have not agreed with every decision made by people up the chain. In some cases, I found the reasoning specious or self-serving or outright silly (and my supervisors have noted that one of my endearing traits is that I have never hesitated to say so). Moreover, I think many of our Administrative Rules are ill-conceived, poorly articulated, or vague — and that’s not an exclusive or.

Nevertheless, in my roles as DC and dean, I believe that my job as a leader is not to inflict my own assessment of decisions or rules on people who come to me for help, but rather, to help them navigate this institution as best I could. Yes, I have argued against what I considered poor decision-making, and I have lobbied for better ARs. But not to people who needed my help.

The Essay as an Act of Courage

With AI tools comes discussion posts and essays and other coursework written by – notice, by and not with the help of – chatbots. And with these artifacts comes the decision we professors must make about how to respond.

This is my response, just one example. I’m guided here by my grandfather, who in imminently practical way taught me in the form of parables: If you wake up one morning and there’s a jackass in your yard, the question you ask yourself is, Front end, or back end?

I’ve chosen the front end. This is an excerpt of a handout to my philosophy students. If you’d like to see the full chatbot essay and my feedback and grade, here’s a link to the handout. I graded the chatbot’s essay with my customary grading rubric: relevance, use of material/sources, organization, clarity, and mechanics (10%).

Lord Ram and the colonization of conscience

I’ve been following the (Western English-language) news coverage of the dedication of the temple in Ayodya, and, in the spirit of religious literacy, I think there’s something about the choice of language that we should note. But first, some background. Let’s start with leader from Reuters:

AYODHYA, India, Jan 22 (Reuters) – Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi led the consecration on Monday of a grand temple to the Hindu god Lord Ram on a site believed to be his birthplace, in a celebratory event for the Hindu majority of the world’s most populous nation.
Reuters

I Open at the Close

There’s a poignant moment in Harry Potter’s story in which Harry, now in possession of all three of the Deathly Hallows, the most important magical artifacts in his world, confronts his end. One of these objects, the Resurrection Stone, is hidden in a snitch, which bears the cryptic words, “I open at the close.”

Reflecting on the close of my time as dean, I re-read an assignment I wrote in response to a prompt that was part of the application for this job. As I recall, the prompt asked applicants to lay out their vision of a response to Texas’s 60x30TX initiative. Like Harry, I didn’t realize during my adventure as dean that this hypothetical email would open at the close. Unlike Harry’s Resurrection Stone, my email didn’t conjure the dead of times past, but it did conjure the future.

Collaborative Decision-making, I

In my time at ACC, I’ve seen half a dozen presidents and chancellors ride in on choruses of Collaboration and wash out on dirges of Not Much Has Changed. We have a new chancellor and a new opportunity to practice what we preach about collaborative decision-making — and I am actually optimistic about the cultural changes to come. But before we uncork the champagne, we need to think hard about what collaborative decision-making actually looks like.

In a nutshell, collaborative decisions must be guided throughout by integrity, based on principles that cut across sectional interests, and balance the tendency to replicate old patterns against fetishizing “newness” for its own sake. In addition to these already-formidable challenges, collaborative decision-making must also embrace and encourage participation that is managed productively and grounded in reality.

The Principle of Sufficient Uniformity

The guiding principle that I call “sufficient uniformity” has come up in several conversations recently, so I thought it might be useful to elaborate. But first, two history lessons.

In January, I will have been part of the ACC community for 38 years, and I’ve seen a lot in my time here. One pattern that struck me early on was our tendency — which incidentally is not unique to ACC — to swing wildly between two extreme responses to challenges in our institution. One end of the continuum is to open the gates and let people solve their problems as best they can. The results are pretty predictable: Lots of specific solutions to what may actually be challenges we share across units or even across the college. And because people have invested their time and energy in their specific solutions, it’s a very short step from “solution” to “defending turf.”

The Duality of Dual Credit Revisited

In April of 2019, I published a post on this blog that turned out to be a roadmap for a successful dual credit mission for the humanities. To those of you inclined to fret about metrics, let me observe that “successful” in that sentence means that, against all odds, we’re still teaching college humanities in high schools.

In my original post, I articulated two important principles behind my work with dual credit. First, I put to rest the question of whether dual credit is a fundamentally bad idea — not by refuting the numerous objections, but simply by stating a policy of not engaging in that conversation with anyone, any more. My motive was not to run from detractors, but to announce that I was too busy finding ways to make dual credit successful for our faculty and our students. As I put it then, “That ship, as they say, has sailed, and like it or not, we’re deckhands.”

CCHA: Dean’s Welcome

This is my welcome message at the first plenary session, Thursday, 12 October 2023

It is with great pleasure and a warm Texan welcome that I stand before you today. We are truly delighted to have you here, and we extend our heartfelt greetings to educators, scholars, and enthusiasts from near and far who have gathered to celebrate the profound significance of the humanities.

The humanities are the backbone of our society, the wellspring of culture, and the cradle of understanding. They inspire us to explore the complex tapestry of human experience, to question, to empathize, and to reflect on the world we inhabit. The humanities remind us of our shared history, the diverse voices that have shaped our past, and the boundless potential to shape our future.

In an era marked by rapid technological advancements and shifting paradigms, the humanities remain our compass, providing the ethical and philosophical guidance necessary to navigate the complex challenges that confront us. They help us interpret, communicate, and appreciate the human condition across different cultures, eras, and viewpoints.

Throughout this conference, we will explore the transformative power of the humanities, how they enrich our lives, inform our decisions, and inspire our students. And as we come together to honor the humanities, we remember that our work in community colleges is a noble pursuit, helping to make these essential disciplines accessible to all. We empower our students to become informed, empathetic, and critical thinkers, fostering a more enlightened and compassionate world.

So, as we embark on this journey of discovery and enlightenment, let us embrace the opportunity to learn, connect, and celebrate our commitment to the humanities. I have no doubt that our time here will be a wellspring of inspiration, and our collective endeavors will continue to enrich the minds and hearts of countless individuals.

Thank you for being here and for your unwavering dedication to the humanities. Together, we are fostering a brighter future through the power of knowledge, understanding, and the indomitable human spirit.

I acknowledge your applause, but perhaps not in the way you think.

The welcome I just read underscores the importance of partnerships like the Community College Humanities Association and the urgency of this gathering of humanities scholars: Those six paragraphs were written entirely by ChatGPT.

This isn’t a gratuitous stunt. Rather, that “welcome” reveals what I believe to be the true danger of AI: It’s not so much what AI can do, but what we do to AI. Our own all-but-irresistible impulse to project agency and autonomy onto the source of words like these — Remember: you clapped — is a profound danger, precisely because that source is devoid of identity or aspiration, absent of suffering or sorrow, lacking memory or history — at least for now.

I heard a few gasps when I revealed the source. But how surprised should we be? AI is only one part of a much larger historical moment. How many of us identify so deeply with our own social media avatars that, at least to some degree, we outsource our autonomy to the forces that determine the landscapes of social media? And who among us doesn’t recognize the slippery slope of merging our identity with roles in institutions that dehumanize us — which makes us complicit in a slow death of agency by a thousand bureaucratic compromises?

Whatever it’s called, whatever outward form it takes, wherever it is invoked, the deepest reflection on what it means to be a human being is the source of our humaneness, and today — once again — we face a crisis of agency, autonomy, and community. And, as I frequently remind my colleagues at ACC, I believe that, if anything can save us, it will be the humanities. Who, I ask you, humanities scholars — Who is most qualified, at such a moment, to safeguard human agency and autonomy?

This chatbot “welcome” underscores my real welcome, which is a call to a renewed sense of mission for the humanities, especially in community colleges. From the perspective of the crisis of the present moment, let’s note that we have always engaged and responded to the ways we use and abuse agency and autonomy and connection. No matter where you land on these issues as individual scholars and human beings, it is the fact that you empower people to have these conversations at all that matters most. And there is no better mission field for the humanities than community colleges — which are by no means immune to the forces of the present moment.

To me, that is the urgent reason for our gathering, for our conversations, our connections, and our partnerships. And so I extend this welcome, from one actual human being, to each of you.

Let me conclude with my thanks to some other actual human beings:

Andy Rusnak and the CCHA leaders who gave ACC the opportunity to host the 2023 national conference.
Jean Lauer and Grant Potts, who led the ACC conference team
All the ACC faculty, staff and students who helped make this conference possible — too many to name here.
Humanities and Communications division MOP team: you know who you are, Moppers.

Most of all, I want to thank each of you — for being here, and especially for being there for your students and faculty.

If you’re inclined to express gratitude for your experiences here, I have an unauthorized, unsanctioned suggestion: Go back to your classroom and teach like the world depends on your teaching.

Because it does.

Gainful Intangibles

If you haven’t seen the Department of Education’s “financial value transparency and gainful-employment rule” in the news, this Higher Ed article will catch you up — in preparation for a parable.

https://www.insidehighered.com/news/government/student-aid-policy/2023/09/27/education-department-finalizes-gainful-employment?utm_source=Inside+Higher+Ed&utm_campaign=d04dd41a4e-BNU_20230517_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_1fcbc04421-d04dd41a4e-199406389&mc_cid=d04dd41a4e&mc_eid=be3053f863

There’s a lot to think about here. I have a doctorate in philosophy, and no one mentioned debt or gainful employment at any point in graduate career — unless you count an occasional discussion of how to attract the right sort of attention during an interview. I’m sure most of us have similar experiences, which might tempt us to take the position that the “transparency” that was good enough for me should be good enough for everyone. But let’s also reflect on the fact that higher ed in the US has become considerably more expensive since I was a student.

My point is that this is a conversation we need to have, particularly in community colleges. And here’s a parable to provoke discussion.