University
Faculty Meeting Address – January
9th, 2004
By Paul Gates, 2003-2004 Faculty Senate Chair
Good morning—and welcome
back.
It takes considerable dedication to turn out on a snowy Friday morning when
the semester hasn’t really gotten underway yet, and I thank all of you
for making that effort. I know you could be updating your syllabi, making
sure books have arrived and otherwise preparing for Monday. With that in
mind, I won’t detain you for long.
In the three previous start-of-the semester addresses I’ve made to you,
I’ve excoriated the legislature, railed about parking fees, defended academic
freedom and complained about the shrinking state budget appropriation. I’ve
also managed, in a general way, to outline some of the plans the Faculty Senate
has had for the coming semester.
Today’s address—my last—will touch on some of that, but what
I’m primarily up here this morning for is to make a plea: a plea for your
even deeper involvement in the life and governance of the University. I’m
fully aware that a plea for more of your time is getting harder and harder
to respond to because we’re all busier that ever before—and probably
busier that we ever imagined we could be.
But it’s that very state of affairs that underscores the importance of
our increased participation—beginning immediately and carrying through
especially the next few years as Appalachian undergoes a number of transitions
and we determine the next phase of our evolutionary course.
Your increased participation is needed because faculty shared governance at
Appalachian is threatened. But, paradoxically, shared governance is not threatened
by the campus administration-- it is threatened by our own inertia. That
we’re not being heard is largely due to the fact that we’re not
sitting at the tables where the position of the faculty can be presented
and recorded in the form of a vote.
This has begun to change in important ways over the past few months, however,
which has confirmed my belief that the administration is receptive to Senate
and other faculty input at every level. Since the middle of the fall semester
I’ve been attending the Deans’ Council and have also been welcomed
at meetings of the Administrative Cabinet.
That’s a good start, but hardly enough. No one faculty member, nor even
a Senate-sized group of faculty, can provide the energy necessary to make the
faculty’s governing voice effective. Just before forming an ad hoc Committee
on Academic Governance in October, a few senators looked at a chart—two
charts, actually—of the University’s organizational structure. I
was stunned by the number and variety of committees and councils with responsibility
for recommending to the Vice-Chancellors. Some we knew well, some we never
heard of—but all we should have representation on. And we’re moving
in that direction, but we need your help.
It must be part of my genetic makeup that I’m drawn as strongly to service
as I am to teaching and research. Else why would I be standing up here? But
I believe that each of us owes the university and everyone in it the benefit
of our accumulated wisdom and experience. It’s part of the academic compact.
Such service is not only to the undivided whole, however—it is also service
to ourselves. Though it may at first appear crass and self-serving, I think
it’s critical to note that by helping to make the university run more
smoothly and efficiently, by strengthening policies and streamlining processes,
we make Appalachian not just a better university, but a better university to
work at.
And I can’t overlook the social aspect of service—it’s just
good fun. (If my wife were here, she’d leap to her feet right here and
point out that I’m also the last one to leave a party. Okay, that’s
true.) But you do meet a lot of very interesting people on committees whom
you’d probably not meet otherwise.
I know this asks a lot of each of you, and by now there must be some eye-rolling
out there as you wonder where you’d find the time, not to mention the
fact that we’re all aware that service is the poor relation in the academic
triad. You’re nudging each other and muttering, “Doesn’t he
know service won’t get you tenure?”
I’m not trying to knock teaching from the top spot and I’m delighted
to see the enhanced regard for research and other creative activity in just
the nine years I’ve been at Appalachian, but service must also be respected
and rewarded from the departmental chair level on up, in both tenure and promotion
decisions. Everyone must realize that the relationship among the three responsibilities
is symbiotic and that as service on campus is recognized as integral to a professional
academic life, its accomplishments will accrue to the benefit of teaching and
research as well.
It’s almost a point of pride that I work parking into this somehow—but
not the way you might think. Instead, let me use the Parking Committee as a
good example of faculty participation in campus governance coming up short.
We need three faculty representatives to that group PDQ so that Barry Sauls
can get to work on a recommendation for Business Affairs which makes its recommendation
to the Board of Trustees in late March. Of course the Parking Committee isn’t
the only committee with vacancies. Contact me, we’ll talk about your interests,
and I’ll find a spot where you can make a difference.
That brings us to the Faculty Senate itself. Much of what we’ve done over
the last couple of years has been at the behest of various individuals and
groups; much has been undertaken on our own initiative. Some of our proposals
have been cheered; some have made us the targets of vague criticisms lobbed
from the shadows. That’s fine.
This is neither the time nor the place to try to mount a defense of the Senate
beyond pointing out that it is the legally constituted and elected body representing
the entire faculty. That said, let me again invite both the Senate’s
supporters and detractors to run for the several seats coming up for election
this spring. Or at least vote!
The recent history of Senate elections show that many seats are filled by a
handful of votes for unopposed candidates, which is only a marginal improvement
over those filled by a smaller number of write-in votes. Most discouraging
is filling seats by chair appointment—which of course flies directly
in the face of a representative system—so don’t make me do it!
Taken both together and separately, the dwindling number of candidates and
the shrinking number of total votes cast points to a crisis in shared governance
that we cannot continue to suffer. And there is no reason we should suffer
it with an administration which supports shared governance both in theory
and in practice. We have the opportunity, so, please, let’s not squander
it.
In early February we’ll be assembling the ballots, so between now and
then, look at your schedules, look into your hearts and talk to your colleagues—then
e-mail Cathy in the Senate office with your nominations. Her e-mail is alticece.
Or, of course, contact me about that—or anything else.
Again, thank you all for coming this morning. Given that historical aphorisms
are one of my several obsessions, let me close with one of my favorites,
which seems particularly apt this morning: it’s the one uttered by Benjamin
Franklin to John Hancock as he stepped forward to sign the Declaration of
Independence. “We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all
hang separately.”
Have a great semester!
