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Scenario 1. During the recruitment process, Byron distinguished himself among the candidates whom you interviewed. A recently minted PhD with an impressive record of scholarship and awards for outstanding teaching, Byron surfaced as the search committee's first choice. You offered a tenure-track position in Spanish, Byron accepted with delight, and the promising young faculty member set about building his professional career in your department.
Byron stands before you now, red-faced and angry. Well into his third year, he is making satisfactory progress toward tenure. Unfortunately, the university has embarked on a cost-cutting program, and Byron will have to teach twelve credit hours next fall, including two sections of first-year Spanish. Byron knows that this schedule will impede his progress on his book, and he is irate that you would even think of making such an assignment. He demands that you reduce his teaching load.
Scenario 2. Susan was hired a year ago, and during her first few months in your department, the two of you agreed to meet regularly to discuss her progress toward her professional goals and her adjustment to the department and the institution. Susan now complains regularly that her students attempt to take advantage of her. Informal feedback from your advisees indicates that Susan is not particularly popular as an instructor. Students find her lectures dull, her exams excessively difficult, her grading harsh, and her interactive style abrasive and suspicious. Today, angry and tearful, she recounts a confrontation with a male student, whom she perceives as sexist and manipulative in his attempts to persuade her to reconsider his exam grade.
Scenario 3. John was hired twenty years ago, and although he willingly accepts responsibilities assigned, there are several problems with his performance. Educated in the European tradition, he is indifferent to the pedagogical literature you have sent his way, and his classroom technique is not congruent with the goals of the department or with the practices of his colleagues. Further, he is bored with teaching and he is not a publishing scholar. He sits before you now, seeking to grasp his role in the department, discouraged by the low salary increase he received this year, and feeling that his interests and energies can never lead him to produce what his younger, seemingly more vigorous colleagues have generated in a few short years. He is angry about his token salary increase and your apparent lack of support for him, and he is jealous of his younger colleagues. Like a rat in a maze, he can't find a way out of his dilemma, and he is dropping all his frustrations into your lap.
ARE these faculty members in your department? Probably. Are there more faculty members who respond to problems with confrontations than there were, say, ten or even five years ago? Most likely. Why?
Difficult situations similar to the above scenarios seem to present themselves in our offices every day. And they will become more difficult as the academic workplace faces a state of increasing crisis. To address these problems, we need to understand some of the elements of this crisis, the professional environment it creates, and its effects on members of our profession. Most important, we must, as chairs, learn the skills necessary to help our colleagues. Although there have always been occasional severe troubles with faculty members, we believe that the great majority of personnel problems today are caused not by the faculty members' personalities but by the difficult, often hostile, environment in which we will all work for the foreseeable future.
A cursory reading of professional publications shows that higher education is being squeezed at every level by external forces that provoke natural human responses. For example, public support for state colleges and universities is increasingly limited. Financial cutbacks, along with declining enrollments at many institutions, have forced reductions in both staffing and operating budgets. Demographic changes demand that teachers educate a culturally diverse population composed of students of all ages after puberty.
The public call to accountability and assessment accentuates another issue for foreign language departments—the pragmatic view of education. The perceived lack of utility of core curriculum requirements and foreign language majors has led to decreasing enrollments in some languages and a concomitant reduction in faculty positions.
Thus, economic, demographic, and philosophical influences have all introduced pressures into the academic professional environment. The discipline of foreign languages has experienced more than its share of deleterious consequences from these external stresses.
The last decade and a half has seen a shift from an ethos of commonality of purpose and the perhaps overworked notion of a “community of scholars” to one of competition for resources. Graduate students learn early that they must compete to be successful (and many appear to hold a monolithic and narrow vision of success). When only the best and the brightest can find “suitable” employment (i.e., tenure-track positions in prestigious institutions, with light teaching responsibilities and strong support for research) and many will find no employment at all, the aspiring and determined men and women entering the profession can quickly become aggressive and belligerent. Moreover, since market conditions have all but erased the differences in the criteria for hiring between large research-dominated institutions and four-year baccalaureate institutions, we all encounter such attitudes.
While anxiety-ridden junior faculty members solemnly research their way toward tenure, midcareer faculty members perceive that they are frozen in their career paths as their relatively well-paid junior colleagues push their way upward. If the mission of the department has changed over time (and it most surely has), then a faculty member with skills and talents that served well a different mission and a different constituency is no longer a good fit.
Thus, the faculty members with whom we deal are nervous and often threatened. Junior faculty members, with their careers on the line, are apprehensive. Midcareer and senior faculty members are frustrated by their lack of career mobility and hurt by the seeming lack of appreciation for their contributions. Some of these faculty members will react with anger and aggression, directed especially at positions of authority. They find authority limiting and threatening, and they doubt whether they are getting fair treatment. Their level of trust is low, as is their commitment to the department; their main priorities are self-interest and self-preservation.
This decrease in trust has led to increased legalism among faculty members. Many younger colleagues are keenly aware of the laws defining their rights, and they examine every word, deed, and nuance through the microscope of the law.
How shall we deal with faculty members in the difficult situations that arise from this environment? First, a caveat regarding our transient status as chairs. We need to remind ourselves (sometimes hourly!) that we have been granted only temporary responsibility; at some point, we will probably rejoin the faculty ranks. We should end our terms with grace as colleagues—not as superior officers making life-and-death decisions affecting our professional cohorts. Finally, suasion and leadership are more effective than compulsion. How we treat our colleagues is important to our success as chairs as well as to our future roles in our departments.
It is critical that we define the roles we play in our relations with other faculty members. We are, among other things, lightning rods, sometimes viewed by both department members and the administration as representing the interests of the other. We are cushions, absorbing the negative feelings of faculty members to protect students, colleagues, and higher-level administration. We are often mediators, reconciling differing points of view and helping students, faculty members, and administrators find a common ground. And finally, we are interpreters, articulating administrative positions, faculty concerns, and student anxiety and dissatisfaction to the various members of these groups.
Although there are no hard and fast rules for dealing with faculty members in difficult situations, there are some approaches that will help maintain working relations, safeguard the interests of all involved, and achieve individual and collective goals.
If you don't have a mission statement, create one. It is crucial that a chair's responses to difficult behavior and situations be guided by clear, established, and readily invoked principles. Thus, mission statements, both institutional and departmental, with concomitant goals and objectives, should govern the chair's dealings with faculty members. They can be used to determine faculty responsibilities, articulate the rationale for decisions, and explain the thinking of the administration. This practice will allow consistency in the chair's behavior and approach to problem solving.
Availability means more than just holding office hours. It implies a demeanor of welcome in both attitude and behavior. The “busy-ness” of chairing the department can lead a chair to adopt a hurried manner and a distancing interpersonal style. Faculty members need to be able to communicate their needs, feelings, frustrations, and concerns in a leisurely fashion. A chair's behavior must convey clearly and consistently that he or she has time to see faculty members and wants to see them. Finally, we urge that chairs be available not only in their offices. We recommend “management by walking around”: walking the halls and being involved with faculty members on their turf by visiting their offices and by initiating discussion with them. Regular dialogue between the chair and colleagues can ward off the demons of trouble.
Above all, we as chairs must listen carefully to all those involved in a problem. Active listening means paying attention to and reflecting on both the content and the feelings being expressed. Suspending judgment and tuning in to the dynamics of the message and the concerns of the person sending it return the message that we care, that we are impartial, and that we really want to understand. The feeling of being heard and understood often gives the faculty member confidence to explore further both the problem and some potential solutions. We cannot always give faculty members what they want, but we can give them the feeling that they have been heard.
It is vital that we and those with whom we are working arrive at a common understanding of the precise nature of the problem under discussion. All people's perceptions are influenced by their cultural backgrounds, educational experiences, and emotional baggage. Thus, we must make certain that we have identified what the faculty member considers to be the problem. A speaker's articulation of an issue may lack clarity or be clouded by emotion. Once we have spent the time to arrive at a common definition, we are frequently more than halfway to a solution.
We also need to dissociate the problem from the person. When a chair and a faculty member view a problem as a behavioral phenomenon rather than an issue of personal character, they can see it more clearly. Discussing the behavior and not the person reduces the chance of creating an adversarial relationship between the chair and the faculty member, since both parties will perceive that they are working to solve the problem together.
Taking notes during important conversations with faculty members provides both parties with clear and accurate records; it also sends the messages that care is being taken to ensure a common perception, that the conversation is important, and that the subject will not be forgotten. In addition, notes offer protection to all involved in the event that a disagreement develops.
The accompanying caveat to notetaking is that one must do it always. Litigious-minded faculty members, quick to invest meaning in a glance or a word, will perceive malevolence if notes are taken only with a particular person or only at certain times.
We have a stake in the success of our faculty members. When they succeed, we succeed, and so do our program and our department. It is natural for the chair to want to help faculty members who need special attention. The junior faculty member attempting to adjust to a new position, create new courses, make a good impression, and prepare a manuscript may confide in the chair and seek mentoring; so may a senior faculty member experiencing a personal tragedy or professional doldrums.
Mentoring demands confidentiality and trust. As chairs, we are not in the best position to offer such guarantees to faculty members, since we cannot suppress the knowledge we have about them when making departmental decisions or evaluating their performance. Because of this conflict of interest, mentoring is best done by other members of the department or institution.
Thus far, we have discussed the more common faculty difficulties—those rooted in the professional environment. There exist, unfortunately, deeper and much more difficult issues that we are obliged to handle.
Some faculty members have problems arising at least in part from their own thinking and behavior. Some come from dysfunctional families and have adopted interactive styles that are fraught with difficulties; for example, because of past experiences, they may lack trust in others and wrongly perceive some events or behaviors as negative or personal. Some have developed substance abuse problems in reaction to stress. Some neglect their physical, emotional, social, or spiritual health. Both emotional difficulties (such as depression and anxiety) and physical ailments (such as chemical and hormonal imbalances and chronic pain) can contribute to professional problems and may be undiagnosed or inadequately treated. In confronting professional problems directly, the chair may need to address these indirect causes.
As chairs, we must provide dysfunctional faculty members our understanding and professional help; however, most of us are not trained in counseling, psychotherapy, or medicine. When we suspect that one of our colleagues is suffering from emotional, behavioral, or health problems, we should refer that person to an appropriate source of help. Most colleges and universities have employee assistance programs or other services, in addition to medical facilities.
Referrals must be made carefully and certainly not capriciously. The need for a referral usually becomes evident after attempts by the chair to listen to the faculty member and work on solving the problem together have led to continued (and often worsened) difficulties. In such a situation, conflicts often arise in several of the faculty member's relations.
Let's consider a couple of examples and explore how a chair might respond in these circumstances:
Joe was a tenured full professor within five years of retirement whose teaching had been deteriorating over the past several years. Students complained increasingly about his failure to set clear course goals, his lack of concern for students, and his inconsistency in grading. Often unprepared, he “anecdoted” his way through classes. Students and faculty members alike noted that he was rarely in his office. He often neglected to carry out departmental tasks and he had not actively engaged in scholarship or campus service for several years.
During annual performance evaluations, Joe would deny or resist these charges before finally admitting the need for change. He would change only briefly, however, and never substantially. Recently, students complained, Joe's inappropriate behavior had escalated to include swearing, caustic remarks to students, and verbal sexual harassment. Faculty advisers were calling to report their advisees' problems with Joe as well. One day, the chair returned from a meeting to find an irate parent waiting to complain about her son's poor experience in one of Joe's classes.
Each time the chair received negative feedback about Joe, she typed a descriptive report, noting the date, the particulars of the course, the name of the person reporting, and so on. She sent a copy of each report to the dean of the division.
When the chair attempted to describe the complaints to Joe, he claimed that he was the victim of a conspiracy and that the students were lying. He then refused to continue the discussion and left abruptly.
Several months later, during Joe's annual performance evaluation interview, the chair attempted to work out an agreement delineating the behavioral changes that Joe would work on. Joe and the chair agreed to meet every few weeks to discuss his progress. But during the next few weeks, in spite of the chair's best efforts to work cooperatively with Joe, the situation deteriorated. Enrollments in Joe's courses continued to decrease. The students, the academic program, and the morale of the faculty were all suffering the deleterious effects of Joe's behavior.
The chair and dean agreed to deny Joe a salary increase. Complaints from students and department colleagues continued and termination of contract was discussed by the chair and the administration. The department followed AAUP and faculty handbook guidelines and consulted regularly with the institution's legal counsel. Because the paper trail clearly documented the numerous complaints, meetings, and attempts to help Joe change and because the dean was actively involved after the chair's attempts to help proved unsuccessful, the case against Joe was strong. Joe refused the offer of an early retirement settlement and threatened legal proceedings, but several weeks later he accepted.
Betty, like Joe, was a midcareer tenured faculty member. She was an outstanding scholar and instructor and an enthusiastic, productive committee member. She came to the chair one morning to reveal that, after twelve years of marriage, her husband was filing for divorce. When her colleagues heard the news, they demonstrated their concern for her, even offering to teach some of her classes as she began to work her way through her shock and grief. After about two months, it was clear to students and faculty members that Betty was showing signs of serious emotional distress. She was withdrawn, sullen, and much less open and communicative. She complained of sleeplessness and loss of appetite. She attempted to carry on in the classroom, but her students noticed a listlessness in her lectures and a dullness in her speech and came to the chair out of concern for her. Colleagues expressed their concern that Betty seemed unable to function in many areas of her work.
The chair's conversations with Betty were cordial enough, but Betty's lack of energy and her inability to deal with her problems seemed overwhelming. Listening and responding to each other actively, the chair and Betty were able to discuss the problem somewhat objectively. The chair was careful to describe the behaviors observed by students and colleagues and to avoid attributing the problem to Betty's personality.
Betty was open to the suggestion of getting professional help, but neither she nor the chair knew of an appropriate source. The chair called the university counseling center to obtain a recommendation and inquired about Betty's insurance coverage. Betty entered psychotherapy and began taking an antidepressant medication; the treatment resulted in progress, but it was many months before Betty recovered enough to discontinue her medication. It was a difficult time, not only for Betty but also for her colleagues who had to assume her teaching load.
In both of the above examples, the faculty members were not meeting the contractual requirements of their positions; it is this failure that necessitated the action of the chair. In addition, both of these faculty problems had effects reaching beyond the parties directly involved. The difficulties disrupted normal department operations as well as the routines of colleagues and students of the faculty member. Rumors surfaced, questions abounded, and morale dropped. Significant problems with any faculty member affect the whole department and demand skillful handling by the chair.
Difficulties with faculty members arise from an environment of stress in higher education, and it is likely that this environment will persist for the foreseeable future. The foreign language department itself invites diversity and difference in its members, and when many different people try to work together, difficulties will arise. From time to time, there will also be faculty members who have or develop dysfunctional behaviors that injure the department. Thus, the strategies outlined here will always be valid.
Chairs should not expect to solve any problem with a faculty member immediately. It may take months, even years, to achieve a resolution. Sometimes, it may not happen at all, in spite of our insight and our dedicated and informed efforts. Nonetheless, we as chairs must do our best to deal with faculty problems. We owe it to the profession, to our institutions, and, most of all, to those most affected by faculty members—their students.
© 1994 by the Association of Departments of Foreign Languages. All Rights Reserved.
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