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CONFESSIONS OF A HYBRID
DEAN:
DEAN AS SUSTAINER
by: Peter C. Alexander *
I. Introduction
In the fall of 2000,
John Miller, then-Dean of the University of Idaho, wrote a
thought-provoking essay in which he discussed the "rise of the
rainmaker law dean."1 In the article, Dean Miller noted
that the increasing financial pressure on law schools was the
driving force behind the shift from "inside dean" to road
warrior.2 Indeed, Dean Miller suggested that the shift to
"rainmaker dean" was inevitable because a dean is in the best
position to communicate with external audiences and to affect
external perceptions of the school.3
I read Dean Miller’s
essay with great interest, not because I had a burning desire to
become a dean, but because, as my dean at that time and several of
my colleagues knew, I hoped one day to return to my undergraduate
alma mater and serve as dean of its law school in an attempt
to give something back to the institution. Dean Miller’s essay
wasn’t exactly news to me; my dean and many friends of mine who were
deans at that time had shared the same belief that deans of the
future were destined (or doomed) to a life on the road, raising
money and interacting with external constituencies far more often
than being present inside the law school.
Dean Miller noted,
however, that not every dean had made the shift to rainmaker. He
wrote:
I do not believe that many law schools have
fully shifted to the rainmaker model yet. Instead most deans are
caught between models. These hybrid deans often lack the staff
to delegate as heavily as a rainmaker must. Yet, like the
rainmaker, they must attend to the external audiences who demand
an increasing portion of their time. The hybrid dean lives in an
ambiguous world of exorbitant expectations.4
The words surprised
me. One of the things I enjoyed most about being an academic was the
ability to engage students and to interact with colleagues. I could
not imagine spending most of my professional time outside of the
building and foregoing the parts of the job that were most
rewarding, but the description of deans who straddle the
internal/external fence seemed to me to be an overwhelming
task.
Less than two years
after reading Dean Miller’s article, I found myself in the pool of
applicants for the deanship at my alma mater, Southern
Illinois University ("SIU"). As if Hollywood wrote the script, by
December of 2002, I received word that I was going to become the
sixth Dean of the SIU School of Law. I began my official duties on
June 1, 2003; but between December of 2002 and my start date, I
spent considerable time trying to determine just what kind of a dean
I wanted to be. To that end, I re-read Dean Miller’s article at
least a dozen times.
Sometime during the
spring semester of 2003, I made the conscious decision that I was
going to be a hybrid dean. I did not choose to become a hybrid dean
because the staff at my new law school was somehow inadequate; on
the contrary, I found that the law school was managed by a very
talented and energetic group of people. I made the decision because
I believed that an external focus would leave me unfulfilled. I
believed strongly that I could be an effective advocate for the law
school to the outside world but that it was also important to remain
a fully-franchised member of my new faculty and, hopefully, lead my
new colleagues by example. If John Miller’s rainmaker dean was the
"modern dean," I was prepared to become the "postmodern"
dean.
II. Reflections on
My First Year
"Postmodern" is not
meant to suggest that I have little or no regard for convention or
that my preparation for deaning was hopelessly mired in
contradictions or paradoxes;5 in fact, quite the opposite
is true. In preparing to be a dean, I spent a great deal of time
thinking about what a dean does...administrator, cheerleader,
marketer, teacher, preacher, mediator, and listener. I continued to
write the job description in my head and, at one point, I stumbled
upon the right word, sustainer. It seemed to be the perfect
word, and I ran to my dictionary to confirm that I wanted to be a
sustainer. The dictionary listed several definitions for "sustain,"
and those alternate meanings helped me to envision how I would
approach my new job. As I look back on my first year as a dean, I
think that envisioning the dean as a sustainer was a good
strategy.
"To keep in existence; keep up; maintain or
prolong"6
The first definition
was a reminder that I was taking over responsibility for an academic
unit of a Carnegie II doctoral/research-extensive university. The
SIU School of Law is a relatively small campus unit, but we operate
an annual budget of more than $8,000,000. At first, I feared that I
might run the operation into the ground; however, the likelihood of
bankrupting the law school is very small. Thankfully, I have very
sharp staff members who pay very close attention to the budget and
overall financial health of the school. In the short time that I
have been the dean, I have come to realize that I don’t have to
manage the budget by myself; I just need to understand what is
happening with our money and to be prepared to make short-term and
long-term financial decisions affecting the institution. As the dean
of a public law school, my staff and I are also cognizant of State
laws as well as university policies that often dictate how monies
may be used. Even though I have considerable help, I still begin
each day by reminding myself to "do no harm."
"To provide for the support
of"7
Providing for the
support of the law school accounts for the bulk of my day-to-day
activities. To my surprise, I quickly settled into the
"paper-pushing" aspect of the job, signing more forms than I ever
thought could exist. I sign forms to make sure retirements are
processed and new faculty and staff lines are approved, to permit
the members of my staff to use sick leave and vacation time, and to
permit the serving of alcoholic beverages at law school events. I
sign forms to use university vehicles, to be reimbursed for
university-related travel, and to contract with our physical plant
staff to renovate law school spaces. But as many forms as I sign,
the members of my senior staff sign dozens more on my behalf; the
paper will someday kill all of us, as well as the trees.
In addition to
providing administrative support for the institution, I try to
support the enterprise by engaging in my fair share of faculty
responsibilities. In my first year, I regularly met with various law
school standing and ad hoc committees, as an ex
officio member, to improve our academic program and to address
special needs. In addition, I served as a full voting member of the
Admissions Committee and as chair of our Diversity Task Force. I
taught a required course in the spring semester, served as faculty
advisor to the Student Bar Association and the Black Law Students
Association, and I published two essay-length articles.8
Outside of the law school, I was active in the Association of
American Law Schools Section on Creditors’ and Debtors’ Rights,
serving as Section Chair, and in the Illinois State Bar Association,
serving as a member of the Committee on the Delivery of Legal
Services.
Like any good dean, I
also engaged in alumni and development activities. Fundraising is a
challenge for all deans, but it is especially challenging when your
law school is small and young.9 The SIU School of Law
celebrated its thirtieth anniversary during my first year as Dean
and that event gave us many opportunities to meet alumni and friends
of the school, and to continue the many strong relationships that my
predecessors had formed. We have had great success in fundraising
but, more importantly, we have strengthened our ties with our
alumni, an intrepid group who live, work and contribute to
communities in all fifty States.
"To support from or as from below; carry the
weight or burden of"10
When I began my
deanship, the State of Illinois was in the midst of a major
financial crisis. Like most States, the Land of Lincoln was trying
to fight its way out of recession and higher education was being
asked to bear its share of budget cuts. We are beginning to see
signs of recovery, but the first few months on the job told me that
life as a dean was going to be a greater challenge than I had ever
imagined.
Budget cuts on our
campus meant staff lay-offs for certain departments. The law school
was spared initially but I soon learned that the lay-offs across
campus would likely cause three members of our support staff to be
reassigned elsewhere on campus. In my first month on the job, I had
to deliver "bump" notices. Pursuant to the Illinois Civil Service
laws, if a civil service employee with seniority has his or her
position eliminated, they have the right to bump an employee with
less seniority in the same job classification and take the
less-senior person’s position. Seniority is determined, not by how
many years one has at the University, but by how many years one has
in his or her job classification. Unfortunately for us, two of our
key people had recent position upgrades, which made them among the
least senior people in their job classifications, and our third
employee was brand-new to the University. It was a tense few weeks
while we awaited word on the fate of our three valued support staff
members. In the end, only one person was reassigned, but it was
extremely difficult to tell these dedicated people, who hardly knew
me, that their many years of good service to the law school was
about to be rewarded by a reassignment elsewhere on
campus.
After the bumping
ended, I wanted to make sure that I did all that I could to make
sure my Civil Service colleagues felt valued and respected. I wanted
them to know that I viewed the law school as a community, a family,
within the larger university community. To that end, I invited the
entire Civil Service staff to my home for a "thank-you" dinner. It
was a great social time for them and for me, and I have repeated the
event several times. I will continue to host them three times a year
as a way to show my appreciation for all that they do.
It is equally
important for me to build the same family atmosphere with my
administrative staff and with the faculty. I have hosted the
administrators in my home on several occasions and, in small groups,
I have also hosted faculty members. I expect that process to
continue as long as I am the Dean. At a public law school, it is
often hard to appropriately compensate hardworking, dedicated
individuals; funds are scarce and the desire to keep tuition
affordable means that recognition of good work must be by means
other than money.
"To strengthen the spirits, encourage, etc.
of"11
Before becoming a
dean, I knew that a dean is cheerleader, faculty mentor, and
counselor, so I was fairly well prepared for that part of the job.
At my prior school, I served as Associate Dean for Research and
Faculty Development and had the opportunity to see my colleagues
sometimes at their best and sometimes at their worst. I knew that it
was important to be supportive of interests and ideas of the many
interesting people who make up our faculty. As a way to connect at
my new school, I have tried to walk the halls regularly and visit
colleagues in their offices. Often we chat about law school issues,
but sometimes we just chat about life. Beneath the professorial
splendor often lurks a shy and reserved person, who is just trying
to make his or her way through life. Breaking down barriers and
forging professional friendships are very important, particularly in
those times when the law school has to confront difficult issues.
Building trust with one’s new colleagues is probably the most
important task a Dean faces.
However, there is some
irony in calling myself a "sustainer dean" because I have not yet
felt sustained by my new colleagues. I understand that it is
difficult for a faculty member and a new dean to come together and
build a relationship because, on some levels, we are not equal
partners. The dean sets salaries, disciplines, and has considerable
influence with faculty, staff, students, and external
constituencies. Even though I don’t feel like I have changed, I
recognize that I am nonetheless different from everyone one else on
my faculty just by virtue of the fact that I have a new
title.12 This remains a frustration for me and often
makes the job a lonely one.
"To bear up against; endure;
withstand"13
Rarely, but on
occasion, a dean is called upon to respond to criticism and
complaints. It is not the most exciting part of the job and it is
certainly not a part of the job that I enjoy. However, I have found
that responding to criticism and complaints gives me an opportunity
to educate people about our program, our people, and all of the
things that are positive about the law school. Resolving problems,
such as denying admission to a relative of an influential person,
are always teaching moments. I use those opportunities to remind
complainants that society expects that we matriculate only those
students whom we believe can complete three years of intensive study
and who will be able to provide the very best representation to
their clients. When I hear complaints about a colleague who accepted
the pro bono representation of an unpopular individual in our
community, I discuss society’s need for lawyers to uphold the Rule
of Law and point out that, sometimes, an attorney must represent
unpopular causes or unpopular clients. It is not enjoyable to field
complaints, but it can be very rewarding.
"To uphold the validity or justice
of"14
As any university dean
knows, there are always meetings to attend and other university
departments with which we are expected to work to ensure that the
overall mission of the university is carried out. There is often a
tension between law faculty, who seem to prefer independence from
university rules, and the campus officers, who are very concerned
that all campus units work together and follow all university
policies and practices. Often I find myself advocating for the
"unique culture and history of the law school and the Legal Academy"
to the Provost while encouraging my law school colleagues to
recognize that we are a part of a university with a long,
distinguished record. It has become a very interesting balancing
act.
"To confirm;
corroborate"15
At the end of my first
year as dean, I presided over our commencement exercises. It was an
extraordinary day, with the Illinois Attorney General delivering an
outstanding commencement address. The day was a validation of the
hard work of everyone in our community, students, faculty and staff.
I was proud of each and every one of our honorees and I was
privileged to share the day with their loved ones. Commencement,
along with a number of other ceremonies we hold each year, reminds
us of the importance of the work that we do in preparing men and
women for the practice of law. A lot of energy goes into the
planning and execution of each of our events, but I continue to
enjoy working with our staff to celebrate milestones and important
dates in the life of our school.
III. Conclusion
I am honored to serve
Southern Illinois University as the sixth Dean of its law school,
and I am grateful for the opportunity to lead a dedicated and
talented group of faculty, staff and students as we carry out the
day-to-day activities of our institution. I am energized by the
people with whom I work, humbled by the generosity of our alumni and
friends, and amazed at the limitless potential of my new workplace.
I am also tired, overwhelmed and a little lonely...but I wouldn’t
change a thing!
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