Are state schools really just state units or not?

Updated on 3.10.10 at 6:30 pm

With the opinion released by the Virginia Attorney General Cuccinelli , directing public colleges and universities to rescind all LGBT-inclusive nondiscrimination policies, Virginia is in a position to set a precedent for other conservative states to roll back protections for its LGBT public college and university employees. Cuccinelli argues that the institutions' Board of Visitors do not have the right to set these policies for their institutions, because they are creating a "suspect class" that isn't recognized by the larger state.

Colleges that have included such language in their policies -- which include all of Virginia's leading schools -- have done so "without proper authority" and should "take appropriate actions to bring their policies in conformance with the law and public policy of Virginia," Cuccinelli wrote.

I am not a legal scholar, but his legal analysis in the letter cites a lot of legal precedents. Cuccinelli notes that cities and counties in the state, along with the Governor's Office, have all been apprised over the last 25 years that LGBT-inclusive nondiscrimination policies are not appropriate given Virginia State Human Rights laws. It does assume that city and county entities as basically the same as colleges and universities, and it seems to me that this is the assumption that could be challenged in court. This assumption is pretty problematic, to me, and it was also problematic to a conservative Virginia law student, who offers an argument rooted in Virginia law, and it has implications for many different kinds of policy issues beyond antidiscrimination policies.

A quick review of responses to the letter shows that none of the critics, including the ACLU, is willing to argue that his legal reasoning is flawed. Instead, they condemn the larger issue of revoking protections for certain groups and basically encouraging discrimination.Students, members of Boards of Visitors, and faculty are appalled at the letter and the message it sends, and I would argue rightly so. But I would also argue that the current state of affairs leads us to two options: (1) Organize to pass state legislation protecting LGBT employees (bills that have failed to pass heretofore in the Republican-controlled assembly) or (2) move "state institutions" out of the purview of the state--removing institution employees from the rolls of state employees--and into the realm of "state affiliated" or "state related" institutions.

I am starting to wonder if the second option is where most public institutions, especially the research institutions, are headed. State funding for public institutions has declined over the last 20 years, and many institutions are having to find other sources of revenue. This national trend was found in Virginia as well; in a 2009 report, the State Council of Higher Education for Virginia found:

Between 1992 and 2010, general fund appropriations to public higher education in Virginia fell from 14% to 11% of total state appropriations. More specifically, on a per student basis or full-time equivalent (FTE), general fund appropriations to in-state students declined by 18% at the four-year institutions and by 9% at the VCCS from 1992 to 2010 (in constant dollars). ... Virginia ranked 40th for state and local appropriations [to higher education].

Instead of relying on public dollars, these "state" institutions have had to rely on tuition increases and, for research institutions, research dollars to cover their costs. Yet, even as institutions move away from depending on the state for financial support, they still are compelled to follow state laws and classify their employees as state employees. Why is this? And why do state leaders in states that have declining financial support seem even more likely to want to exercise more control over the actions of their public institutions of higher education?

According to the National Conference of State Legislatures, 13 states classify college/university employees as state employees, covering them under state health insurance plans and requiring them to follow state employee policies. In some states, university and college employees greatly outnumber other state employees. Keeping the college and university employees classified as state employees benefits the state--it creates a bigger pool for health insurance, for example--but this example in Virginia clearly shows that it may hamper the ability of colleges and universities to create their own policies and programs.

And where is the line drawn regarding state control of its institutions of higher education? What policies should legislators get to dictate for state colleges and universities? Would it be appropriate for the legislature to pass laws requiring institutions only to hire instructors from Ivy League schools? To adopt specific textbooks? To ban the teaching of certain ideas? To withhold funding for schools that provide birth control pills in their student health centers? The balance between universities and the legislature already is tenuous, influenced by the sharing or withholding of state funds, and it is problematic to have the state government dictating colleges' and universities' policies for their employees.

I have worked in three different states for large, public institutions, and each one has promised to protect me from employment-related discrimination based on sexual orientation--a promise I find very important as an out lesbian employee. This move in Virginia would make me far less likely to take a job in that state, and it may prompt academics to leave the state for employment elsewhere. This aggressive move to limit the rights of Virginia colleges and universities to make policies for their employees may reap a larger whirlwind as state institutions consider new ways of defining themselves and their own futures.

Domestic Partner Benefits

As a good lesbian academic at a school with no domestic partner health insurance benefits, I have a google alert set up for the words "domestic partner benefits," and the number of times those words come up in stories related to universities and colleges might surprise you. Discussions are happening all over the country about adding domestic partner benefits, even in these bad economic times.

Health insurance benefits for domestic partners have been adopted in large public institutions in 30 states, and even more private institutions across the country. Some public university employees obtained benefits when their state adopted domestic partner benefits, such as employees of public institutions in Alaska and Wisconsin. Some of the latest additions are even a little hard to believe if you don't see it in print: the University of Alabama at Birmingham and University of Wyoming. The adoption of these benefits doesn't seem to be slowing: LGBT groups at state universities in Missouri, Kansas, and Texas are asking administrators to consider adding these benefits. The President of the University of Delaware has asked legislators to approve domestic partner benefits for state employees. The administrators at Syracuse, a private institution, are even considering "grossing up"--that is, paying employees who have domestic partners registered for insurance for the added tax costs of the imputed income.

Have we reached the tipping point? Are we going to see the quick and inevitable adoption of these benefits across the country?

Maybe, maybe not. It certainly hurt when the legislature and Governor of Arizona colluded to strip away recently provided domestic partner health benefits from state employees in fall 2009. Legislators in Alabama and Wyoming are trying to make it impossible for UAB and UW to provide benefits to domestic partners (see links above). The takeaway seems to be that obtaining a benefit and keeping it aren't the same thing.

So, what do you think? How long before all colleges and universities offer health insurance (or $/vouchers for insurance) for domestic partners?

Giving up the ghost post

As I have noted earlier, I am going to be on sabbatical next semester. With my decision to take that leave came my resignation from my current administrative position. I was very pleased to step down from this position, as I feel that I have implemented important projects, initiated improvements in policy and process, and shepherded the program through some difficult and challenging times. The program is running well, and students are succeeding in record numbers. The program is ready for some new blood, and I believed that I am ready for a new challenge.

I applied for another administrative post in my university, to start after my sabbatical had ended, but alas, that was not to be. So, after the sabbatical, I will be returning to faculty.

Since resuming the faculty role was not really my plan, I was initially quite put out about my new fate. I realize that I am losing my chance to: (1) change things that need changing in the department, (2) create new opportunities for students and colleagues to succeed, and (3) gain additional administrative experience that will help me continue to move up to higher administrative posts. And with the pitiful job market and the prospect of an approved sabbatical on the horizon next year, I am not much inspired to look for a new job on another campus.

Therefore, I am having to rethink my approach to my job and my personal goals. It hasn't been easy, but I have found that a return to faculty can be exciting in many ways. Let me count them:

1. I can work at home again, accommodating my own preferred sleep schedule and accomplishing way more writing than I seem to be able to manage in my office. Before I took the administrative position, I worked at home 2-3 days a week. Once I took on the administrative role, I was in the office/on campus 4-5 days a week.

2. I will have amazing amounts of (meeting-) free time, especially as my committee calendar is cleared for the sabbatical. Of course, committee assignments and requests will resurface, but it will take time to pile up, I am sure. And all of the extra meetings I attended because of my administrative role will be gone! (Now, of course, "free time" really translates to time for work, but that sorta feels like free time to me. I know... it is sick, but true.)

3. I will not have to make the difficult calls regarding students and instructors. In my current job, I am the person who has to recommend that students delay graduation, leave the major, or leave the university; I also recommend which instructors teach which courses, and which instructors should not be asked to teach again. As you can imagine, it isn't much fun. At some point, I thought a large part of my administrative role was handing tissues to crying students. While these are important functions, I never enjoy giving someone bad news, and I am happy to let someone else do that for a while.

4. I can focus on my research and writing again. I was lucky enough to get some good research and writing done during my tenure as an administrator, but my productivity lagged far behind my prior record when I was only serving as a faculty member. Perhaps with the additional time and focus, I can accomplish enough in the next few years to get a promotion to full professor.

And I cannot help but recognize that becoming a full professor would allow me to apply for more senior positions in departmental, college, and central administration, which has always been my ultimate goal. So, while I am taking a small detour from my intended route, the journey hopefully leads to the same place.

Praise all around

I am so impressed with everyone involved with the students protesting for LGBTQ equality and protections at the basketball game last Friday night at John Carroll University, a Jesuit University, I could hardly let it pass by without commenting.

First, kudos to the students (and some alumni) who protested the President's refusal to add sexual orientation to the school's employment nondiscrimination policy. They took the floor at halftime with dignity and grace before the second half started, singing "We are a gentle, angry people..." and holding signs for equality. They held their ground and, after some negotiation and with only token resistance, they left without incident before the clock noting the end of the halftime break sounded.

The incident was sparked by the President's message refusing to change the employment nondiscrimination policy in light of a faculty council resolution (and overwhelming faculty support) asking for the change. According to students writing on the activist Facebook page, the Board of Trustees met and no vote was taken on the resolution. The blog at the Cleveland Plain Dealer explains:

In his message earlier this week, [JCU President] Niehoff issued a lengthy explanation of his views that gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people should be welcomed and respected at the university. He stopped short of recommending that the policy be changed, however, instead offering a "community standards statement" as a supplement to the policy.

The extra statement explains that discrimination is wrong and that "the Roman Catholic doctrine teaches us that such offenses are especially egregious when directed against the more vulnerable and marginalized members of the Community."

The section of the statement that has set off some students and faculty is one that, just after saying that the university calls on everyone to respect one another, states that the university reminds "members" of "the traditional Catholic moral teaching that properly locates sexual activity within the relationship of a man and a woman united for life through marriage as husband and wife."

The community statement goes on to say that because of the "imprecise legal definition of the terms involved," among other reasons, the university thinks it is unwise to include gay and lesbian people in the nondiscrimination policy.

And yet, despite the statement and in response to the protest, the President has agreed to meet with the protesting students today. I have great respect for that, so the President gets kudos as well.

Also impressive were the other students attending the game (two of whom took the video posted on youtube; you can hear one ask the other holding the camera phone, "Are you getting this?"), who were interested and not ugly to the protesters; the police, who stayed calm, DIDN'T use tasers or undue force, reasoned with the protesters, and let the process play out appropriately, even comforting one emotional protester as she was escorted off the court; the coaches and administrators, who spoke thoughtfully and with great care with the protesters (at least, that is what it looked like); and the basketball players, who seemed calm as they warmed up, while taking care to avoid stepping on, hitting, or otherwise bothering the protesters, who were seated at mid-court.

The protesting students are handling this issue so well, recognizing the strengths in the President's statement while pointing to the necessity of an actual policy. They have set up a Facebook site and are consistently trying to get their message out. The Plain Dealer quotes 2 students, saying:

Natalie Terry, a senior from Albany, N.Y., majoring in religious studies and one of the students who protested at the basketball game, said students were glad to see Niehoff's views that all students should be welcomed and treated with respect.

But the students are passionate in working to change the nondiscrimination policy. Andy Trares, a senior from Toledo majoring in sociology, said students who want to change the policy are not giving up.

"We know what our goal is and we're not going to stop until we achieve that goal," Trares said. "A community standards statement is not acceptable. While we, of course, want an open and welcoming community on campus, we also need tangible things and things that are concrete, and this nondiscrimination policy is one of those things."

The students and the administrators also handled the news media well; look at the interviews in the story on the local Fox news. I would hope that students at other schools wanting to engage in advocacy would view this protest, media management, FB page, and the responses they are getting and take notes on how to work for change. I also hope administrators and law enforcement would also look at the serious and respectful tone of the JCU response and recognize lessons they could apply to contentious issues in their own backyards. Kudos to the JCU community!

Countdown to sabbatical

Some people may have been counting down to the New Year, but my countdown is about my upcoming sabbatical.

I just received the paperwork approving the sabbatical for next year, and I am ecstatic. I am officially counting down... by months right now, but eventually I know I will move to weeks and then days. I am sure that a sabbatical may be a wonderful experience for regular faculty, but I am beginning to sense the pure joy of an administrator looking at a semester or two of no meetings, no student crises, no reports or university policy discussions...nothing but research, writing, and relaxation.

Honestly, I can hardly wrap my head around the upcoming sabbatical experience, though the holiday break seems like a miniature version of the sabbatical... or it would, if I didn't have letters of recommendations for students (done!), a syllabus to revise for spring (almost done), a report for a university committee to finish (not even started), and any other number of small service and administrative tasks to complete before classes resume. It makes me glad that I have a few weeks left before classes start.

Another task I have to begin during break is getting funding to support the sabbatical... as with most big schools, my university requires that I raise half of my salary if I would like a whole year away from campus. I am okay with that, though my research area can be difficult to get funded. I have several potential funders flagged, and I have some strong folks who will support the research proposal. That said, I am resigned to the idea that if the funding doesn't come through, I have to reduce my sabbatical to one semester. The project will still take a year to complete --perhaps longer if I am back at work.

The gf and I have discussed some of the practical implications of the sabbatical, including research travel (we plan to spend some of it together and some apart) and how we will negotiate me working at home for an entire semester/year when she also often works at home (not quite figured out yet--I may need to set up a better office at home, since I currently work in our living room or in my work office). More importantly, she has grown accustomed to the idea that I will take a sabbatical while she works her regular job, an idea which had been a source of tension when I first introduced the idea. Hopefully, we can travel together and have a little bit of shared vacation time thrown in for good behavior.

I am getting excited, but I am trying to remember that I still have my administrative tasks, grantwriting, service projects, teaching, etc. to finish before the sabbatical starts. But the lure of an open calendar and silent phone are beautiful, twinkling lights on the horizon, lighting up the darkness of the cold January winter.

Reflections on age and semester break

As I have commented before, the end of the semester has always been a very important time for me, full of meaning and ritual. I note, as I look back, that the meanings have changed as I have grown older, and I find that I use the time very differently now than I used to use it.

When I was in grade school and high school, I always awaited the December holiday break as a time to get together with family who lived farther away to celebrate and eat copious amounts of food. I also got to slack off around the house, living in that netherworld of no responsibilities, and I frequently lost track of time/day/date as the break moved slowly by.

While attending undergrad, break was a time to try to catch up with old friends who had all gone off to school in other locations. We would ditch our families, hang out, go to movies, etc. We also often picked up part-time jobs to make a little money over break, so the friend gatherings had to happen outside of work hours. My family saw me only ON the days of the actual holidays. But I always made sure that I had 2-3 days at the beginning where I would hang out in my parents' house, let them cook meals for me, watch their cable (free movies! Yes!), and sleep VERY late.

In grad school, break became a time to catch up on reading and (occasionally) late papers, work on projects I had been avoiding, etc. I would also go to the library on my last couple of days on campus (once papers were in ) or my first couple of days back on campus and browse the professional journals in my field, the ones I never had time to read during the semester if they weren't assigned or related to my own research papers and projects. Yet, I refused to give up my 2-3 days of vegetation and catching up with old friends, so the struggle between accomplishing a lot and doing nothing emerged as a new theme.

Once I became a professor, there was a LOT more work to be accomplished during the break between semesters, including prepping for class next semester, finishing up new articles and grants for submission, revising and resubmitting old articles, reviewing other people's articles, writing student and peer recommendations, etc. Break is a time with no other workplace responsibilities (no classes, no meetings, no emails from students and colleagues, etc.), so it is the perfect time to get some actual work done. Of course, my partner also feels that it is a perfect time for her to get some attention, so I have had to make some adjustments to my own workaholic nature. My family (and now my partner's family) still thinks this is family time, AND my lazy self still wants to use the time to veg out and watch movies and read and relax.

I look at my older colleagues, and they tend to use the time three ways: (1) working on research; (2) visiting with their children and grandchildren; and (3) traveling, often to international, cool locations. For me, traveling is a summer thing, as I hate messing with winter travel that isn't related to seeing family. That may change, eventually, since my partner and I have no children and we have a little more spending money as we grow older. Perhaps we will start thinking about a little winter travel... after 3 days of vegging out and watching endless movies! :-)

Hope you enjoy your break!

B-U-S-T-E-D

When I was a teenager, long, long ago, we would tease one another and hurl insults back and forth, trying to prove who was the smartest (or, as we would refer to it now, "snarkiest") one in the bunch. When you made an appropriately on-point comment or low blow, the crowd with laugh and crow, " BUSTED!" It meant that the person had nailed your flaws, and there was little you could say in response.

Well, that was the refrain going through my brain as I read a recent piece on professors' habits of (and excuses for) lateness. In his essay, "Sorry I'm late," Duke professor Mike Munger calls out 4 types of lateness. See if any of them reflect your own lateness styles and issues:

The Platonic traveler. ...Chronically late people live in the imperfect world, but believe they can travel inside their own minds. If their house is 11 minutes away from the campus, without traffic or stoplights, then they assume that they can actually travel from their home to the meeting room in 11 minutes.

(What I would call) The Incompetent Busy Person. Incompetent people believe they are busy, but they are just inefficient. Colleagues who are always late are revealing signs of a larger incompetence in many other, less visible, parts of their lives.

(what I would call) The one whose office is too close. For this group of latecomers, the closer their office is to the room, the later they arrive at the meeting. ...If the session is just down the hall, they wait until the last minute, maybe dial up one more co-author, grade one more paper. Then when Ms. Close does show up, five minutes late, she says, "Oh, sorry I'm late. I was just making a phone call."

The first will be last. Mr. First shows up, parks his folders, sees the room is empty, and heads for the coffeepot. Because he is two minutes early, he chats up the staff. He finally arrives 10 minutes late, but his papers and BlackBerry sit there in mute proxy, a talisman of timeliness.

I have seen meetings turn into Molière set pieces, almost but never quite getting started, for 20 minutes or more. Folks take turns, saying, "Oh, Smith's not here. I'm going to get a soda. Anyone want cookies?" Smith comes back, but by that time Mbutu has left to retrieve a book. "We can't start without Mbutu; I'll just be gone a minute." Grrrrrrrr.

How bad is it that I have been (and sometimes, all of my constant efforts to the contrary, continue to be) ALL FOUR of these people? I overestimate my ability to get somewhere quickly, I try to fit in one more phone call/email/document, and I try to justify my lateness by pleading "busy-ness." Each time I do it, I chastise myself and try to make a plan to do better the next time.

Unfortunately, I do not come from a timely family. My mother, in particular, has almost no ability to remember commitments or plan effectively to show up somewhere on time. Moreover, I do not get the impression she much cares. Perhaps one of the saddest days I remember was recently calling my 60-something year old mother to ask about her latest part-time position, and she told me that she had been let go. She explained that it was because she had been late to work too many times. She thought that they were completely unreasonable, "because I got to work on time a lot more, since they had said it was a problem!"

After years of being forgotten at Hebrew School, along with my friends, when mom was supposed to be driving carpool for us... After making a special effort to travel back to my home state early to spend time with my mother, only to find out that she had gone to the beach that day, even though we had talked about my visit... After years of being late to school so often that they told my mother they would penalize HER for my lateness... After years of sitting in a car with my siblings and my father while he angrily laid on the horn and shouted for my mother to "COME ON!!"... after years of promising that I wouldn't be like her, and taking many steps to better organize and prepare myself every day, I STILL find myself challenged to get where I need to be on time, with the resources I need.

Perpetual lateness is an especially challenging problem to have for someone in an administrative position. It is disrespectful of others to be late to a meeting, and I am demoralized when it happens. I feel like a failure, and I vow not to do it again. I work quite hard to overcome my late tendencies, but I am not always successful. In some ways, it reminds me of dieting. You make a plan to eat healthy, but then you spy some cookies and break down and snack on them. You can beat yourself up for eating the cookies, or you can just try to eat better the next day.

It doesn't hurt to have a reminder from Munger that excuses are not enough, and that chronic lateness can and should be avoided. All I can say is that I am trying.