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From the issue dated December 19,
2003
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FIRST PERSON
Lessons in Time ManagementFor new assistant professors,
the most difficult challenge is learning how to set
priorities
By LEE TOBIN MCCLAIN
When new faculty
members cross paths on campus, there's a shorthand they share: "You
making it?" "Busy. You?" "Swamped." Sometimes, there's just time for
an exchange of eye rolls.
I thought I was busy as a graduate
student, and I was. But writing a dissertation, teaching a class,
and working a night-shift job to pay the bills didn't have the same
feel as becoming an assistant professor. The former took a lot of
hours, but they were hours in compartments. As long as I showed up
at the right place -- the library, the classroom, the
data-entry warehouse -- I got through.
Being a faculty
member lumps the hours and the tasks all together, and there is
little immediate feedback on what's important to complete. Yes, you
have to prepare for class, but how well? No, you don't have to write
the article right away; there's no deadline on it. As for skipping
the weekly meeting of a pointless committee, well, who really knows
how much it will matter?
Managing time as an assistant
professor is something for which few new faculty members are fully
prepared, but it's crucial to your long-term success. Having
blundered through those years myself, and having now watched some
junior colleagues sink and others swim, I offer the following
time-management suggestions.
Be cautious in accepting
committee work. You don't want to say no to everything, or to
guard your time in a miserly way, implying that it's more precious
than anyone else's. At the same time, there are duties that everyone
tries to dump on junior faculty members. I spent years advising the
student honor society, without interest, joy, or thanks, before
working up the courage to ask my dean to put someone else in charge.
Her response: "I didn't know you were doing that. Why are you doing
that? Sure, I'll find someone else."
It's smart to consult
with a senior faculty member before accepting any committee
assignments -- especially those that feel dumped on you. Your
standard line, delivered with appropriate humility, should be: "That
sounds really interesting, but my department chair asked me to talk
with her before taking on any committee assignments." Such a line
does two things: It alerts the dumper that you have someone in your
corner who will protect you, and it buys you time to think and
consult about whether the assignment will be worthwhile.
If
it's your department head who's imposing the new responsibility, you
may need to take a different approach. "If I join the accreditation
review committee, I'm afraid I won't have time to do a good job for
the technology committee," you might say. "Which do you think I
should focus on?" If your chair urges you to take on her pet
committee, then enlist her help in getting you off another
committee.
It's up to you to make sure you don't get
overloaded. When they stop to think about it, administrators don't
want junior faculty members to burn out on committee work. But they
do want to get the institution's work accomplished. If you get the
administrators on your side and keep them informed, they can help
you manage the limited time you have for college
service.
Make time to write. Research and writing are
part of your job, but they are the part that initially seems least
pressing. At a small university like mine, where the priorities are
teaching and service, it's easy to forget for months on end about
your scholarly work. A few years down the road, at promotion time,
everyone will suddenly remember that scholarly work matters as much
as teaching and service. And if you haven't established some record
of scholarly productivity at that point, time management will be the
least of your problems.
Getting scholarly articles and books
published is maddeningly slow, so you have to send things out years
in advance of when you need them to appear on your vita. When you
take the long view, writing a page a day is a high priority.
In my first years as an assistant professor, I had started each new
academic year with great intentions to write that page each day, and
more. But by October, when things got busy, writing would fall off
my radar.
The one thing I did right was to apply to speak at
several academic conferences a year. That way, the impending
conference paper (and the attendant humiliation if I didn't finish)
became as important as class prep, and I did it.
But
conference papers aren't the same as finished articles or books. For
those, you need a consistent plan. Scholars who schedule a specific
time in their day to write tend to get the work done. When I finally
started entering "read two journal articles" or "draft introduction"
into my daily planner -- ahead of "grade papers" or "prepare
lecture" -- I got productive.
One assistant professor I
work with doesn't come to the campus until 11 a.m. each day; he
devotes his mornings to writing. Another lets her research go for
weeks, then gets into a frenzy and works long, late hours to
complete a project. Although their styles differ, they're both
getting the research done. And both are shoo-ins for
promotion.
Be canny about class preparation. When I
started as a new assistant professor, I had to prepare four new
courses in my first semester. I knew it was an emergency situation,
especially given my tendency to overprepare. I had to cut myself a
few breaks.
In each of the four courses, I found an excuse to
show a movie once during the semester, which freed me from a week's
worth of class prep. I also built in research days in the library,
guest speakers, and a few out-of-class trips that took me off the
stage. (I later learned that out-of-class trips and guest speakers
are not necessarily time-savers.)
If there was going to be a
big batch of papers or tests coming in, I tried hard to make the
next class day a no-prep day; using class time for small-group
projects is one good way to do that. Then I could use my usual prep
time to grade.
Some research actually indicates that teachers
who spend less time preparing (in order to write) end up with better
teaching evaluations. For me, that has held true. When I had a class
prepared to the minute, with gorgeous PowerPoint presentations, film
clips, and carefully-orchestrated discussions, the students could be
overwhelmed into passivity. If something interesting did happen in
discussion, I'd often cut it off in order to get to the next planned
event. When I have to wing it, I take more time to follow a
discussion in the classroom to its conclusion -- and the class
is more interesting for all concerned.
At first I felt guilty
about all my little tricks, but to my surprise, neither my students
nor my bosses noticed my "slacker days." It was a bit of a blow to
my ego, but a boon to my workload. I still show a movie during the
semester in each of my courses.
Prioritize early and
often. I resisted doing careful planning for years because I
feared life would become rigid and dull. But in fact, I find that
planning my priorities and controlling my time frees me to think
creatively and have more fun.
This year, before I leave the
university on Fridays, I've started planning for the following week,
which lets me enjoy my weekends more. I found a fabulous
prioritizing grid in Richard Bolles's What Color is Your
Parachute? that I've adapted to my daily schedule, so that I
always know what's the most important thing I need to do next.
I've also started scheduling in lunch dates and jogs with my
colleagues, which has pushed away burnout as well as put me back in
the gossip loop. The flexible schedule of a faculty member conceals
to the general public the fact that it's a demanding career. It's up
to you to harness and control your schedule to make it a productive
and joyous one, as well.
Lee Tobin McClain is a professor of English and directs the master's
program in writing popular fiction at Seton Hill University in Greensburg,
Pa.
http://chronicle.com Section: Chronicle Careers Volume 50,
Issue 17, Page C2
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Copyright © 2003 by The
Chronicle of Higher Education
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