Ways of Seeing

When I was a teaching assistant at Appalachian (1999-2001), I shared an office (a converted classroom) with all of the other TAs. There were no dividers; just a bunch of desks that we each laid claim to. I don’t know that any of us got much work done in that office, but we did share teaching stories and advice. It wasn’t long before some of us started visiting each others’ classes, sitting in to observe and lend a hand. In the spring, when we shifted from teaching freshman composition to literature, many of my colleagues struggled to get good discussions going in their classes. I discovered, however, that I had a knack for it—and by midterm, most of the TAs had cycled through my classes, with a few making a habit of it.

I liked being observed. It was a boost to the ego, for sure, but it also motivated me to up my game. I also liked the idea that my students could see what was happening. I often pulled my colleagues into the discussion—treating their presence as an added bonus to the conversation. When I was “officially” observed for the first time, I wasn’t at all nervous. I even welcomed the feedback, the post-observation debrief was yet another opportunity for me to rethink and improve my teaching.

As an administrator, I carry this same energy into the observations I conduct. I see observations as not just a form of managerial housekeeping (to assess instructional effectiveness), but as opportunities to provide pedagogical support and guidance, and to pick up some new tricks for my own teaching.

  • Summary Report: Observations of My Teaching
    Unfortunately, I don’t have documented evidence of classroom observations conducted prior to 2013, when I was observed during my doctoral studies at Northeastern University. Luckily, however, I do have reports from my time at FDU-Metro and Keuka.

  • Adjunct Faculty Observation 10.26.16
    This observation report was for a new adjunct faculty member I hired to teach Academic Writing at Fairleigh Dickinson University’s Metro Campus in the fall of 2016. The instructor had a background in tutoring and writing but not a lot of teaching experience.

    Prior to my visit, I gave the instructor a form to complete (to provide me with context for the class I was to observe). Before the observation, we met to discuss a variety of things. We met at roughly the mid-point of the semester, and I wanted to a) check-in to get a sense of how things were going, and b) be available to answer any questions that may have arisen at that point in the term.

    I read the instructor’s responses prior to my visit, and made some initial notes. I then took notes while observing the class. This is my write up of my observation.

Ways of Leading

I experienced two major life events in 2006: I became Department Chair at DCCC in January and I got married in May. The latter was preceded by a year of planning. The former was an largely an unplanned development. Leading up to 2006, I had little to no career aspirations and no desire to become an educational administrator. I wanted to teach and write and brew beer.

When the position of Department Chair, English and Reading, was posted, I didn’t even consider applying. Then colleagues started approaching me, asking if I was going to apply. Then my future wife and I had a long, heart-to-heart conversation about it. I applied the next day and, after a round of interviews, I was offered the position. I was 31 years old and the youngest member of the department. 30 years separated me and the oldest (and dearest) English faculty member.

I learned a lot in the three and a half years I chaired the department. I took on a number of initiatives and did my best to foster community between full-time and part-time faculty. I chaired hiring committees, conducted annual evaluations, and sadly had to pursue a non-renewal of a developmental reading faculty member. I became a staunch advocate for the needs and development of contingent faculty, and wrestled with the evergreen challenges of student advising. Leading up to my departure in the summer of 2009, I worked closely with the college Vice President and the department chair of mathematics to engineer a new school for developmental education. Shortly after I made the decision to accept Northeastern’s doctoral program offer, Davidson posted the position for Dean, School of Foundational Studies and Academic Support—a position I had essentially helped write, and for which I had been groomed.

My decision to leave was harder to make than I had anticipated. I didn’t want to stop teaching. I wanted to move to Boston—to the city. I wanted to pursue a PhD. But I was also inspired and intrigued by the possibility of leading a new school whose sole purpose was to fill dire gaps in the education of an economically depressed region of North Carolina—to advocate for the futures of so many adults without opportunities or even hope, the champion from a position with real power to enact change. In the end, the decision was effectively made for me when the college put the position on hold for budgetary reasons. A year later, after my wife and I had already sold our house and moved to the Fenway neighborhood of Boston—after I’d finished my first semester as a doctoral student and passed my preliminary exams with distinction—I received an email from Davidson’s HR office alerting me that the position had been reactivated. They were inquiring if I was still interested. I was not.

After completing my PhD, I found myself back in an administrative role—as Director of Writing at Fairleigh Dickinson University’s Metropolitan Campus in Teaneck, NJ. So much of what I did at FDU was reminiscent of my time as department chair at Davidson. I found myself comfortably returning to administrative patterns. In particular, I was reminded of another skill discovered at Davidson: a penchant for negotiating student/instructor conflicts. While I confess difficulty managing my own conflicts at times, I excel at mediating the conflicts of others. I suspect this is because I draw on the same skills and mindset I use for classroom discussion—striking and maintaining balance, opening spaces for empathetic listening, and finding solutions to tricky problems.

In all, the tenets of my Administrative Philosophy are drawn from my experiences both in and out of classrooms and across conference tables. Below are links to some of the administration and program-building materials for the Keuka College Writing Program. Please note that I use Google Docs and treat these materials as “living” documents.

  • KCWP Operations Manual
    I created this guide in 2022 to transparently map all aspects of the Keuka College Writing Program. I periodically update it based on program needs and changes.

  • Guided Self-Placement @ Keuka College
    One of the first major tasks I undertook at Keuka was moving incoming student writing placement to a Guided Self-Placement model. The placement process for new students includes a survey that acts as guidance, student course self-selection, placement verification, and coordination with the Registrar’s Office, and the solicitation of writing samples which are reviewed by writing instructors at the start of the term.

  • KCWP Assessment Plan
    Modeling current trends in writing assessment, I have developed an assessment plan for the Writing Program that is driven by the needs and goals of our writing community of instructors and students. Local. Site-based.

  • KCWP Assessment Report (2020-2021)
    This is a sample program assessment report. Assessment is on-going; however, this report provides insight into a crucial moment in the Writing Program’s history.