Confessions of a Community College Dean

Coming up on the election, I’ve got my fingers crossed. On the upside, at least the campaigns will be over. That little girl who cried about “Bronco Bamma” spoke a basic truth: we’re all tired of the ads. I can only imagine how bad it must be for people living in swing states. My state has some drama of its own, but it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion at the presidential level, so that has helped contain the madness. The folks in Ohio must be thoroughly sick of it all by now.

According to a task force convened by Governor Scott of Florida, Jane Austen falls into the same category as whiskey and cigarettes. I’ll admit, I hadn’t thought of that.

The Girl dressed as a Tootsie Roll, and The Boy as a Jawa from Star Wars. They were endearing, but not scary. I had front door duty.

Like most colleges, mine was born before IT became a fact of life. IT had to be grafted onto a pre-existing culture, or, more accurately, set of micro-cultures. Different departments and support programs have their own ways of doing things; some have welcomed technology, some have grudgingly adapted, and some have shoved it over in a corner, hoping it would eventually go away.

As Sandy continues to rage, I’m already anticipating some messy rescheduling issues as people stream back.

Like about 70 million other people, we’re in the path of Hurricane Sandy. As of this writing, we still have power, but after last year’s catastrophe, we’re expecting to lose it for a while. (If this week’s blogging gets spotty, that’s why.) Given some warning, we spent the weekend preparing.

This piece on the implications for higher ed in the election is well worth a read. Among other things, it...

One of the consolations of middle age is that it brings the power of invisibility. That brings with it a certain amount of unintentional eavesdropping.