by Sarah Kain Gutowski, Chair, New Member Program
Sometimes the changes occur because of seemingly innocuous observations, and sometimes they spring from really obvious, somewhat painful experiences during the most recent event. The key to their effectiveness, however, has usually stemmed from timing: It's important to hold a postmortem soon after the event, not later. We actually held our postmortem for last year's April festival when we returned to school in September . . . and while we managed to have a good meeting and DID create some positive changes, it was a strain to remember all of the details that many months after the fact. Also, I'm almost positive that there were things about the 2015 festival that we really wanted to avoid repeating, or aspects of that year's conference that SHOULD have been repeated, and weren't when 2016 rolled around, simply because we didn't make a note of it. This year, we're going to attempt to hold the postmortem within the next two weeks -- before we all forget about what happened and get lost in finals and graduation and summer classes and summer scholarship.
In the theatre world, postmortems are critical discussions about or -- to use a phrase I'm sure we all LOVE -- assessments of a recent production, where everything about the process of staging that production is examined. Questions like What went right? What would we replicate? What went horribly, terribly, messily wrong and should be avoided at all costs next time? are asked and answered, and by the end of the session the members of the theatre company have a better understanding of what lead to the success (or, gulp, failure) of that production, a kind of wisdom they can then apply to their next big venture.
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| RIP little blooms. You did not survive that cold snap. |
I'm a co-chair for an annual Creative Writing Festival and Conference that we hold at Suffolk, and every year we hold a postmortem for the week of events and the culminating Conference Day. Some postmortems are more successful than others -- because the festival occurs so close to the end of the academic year, it can be difficult to schedule a meeting at which all of our 1,264 committee members can attend. (Obviously, that's a little bit of hyperbole. But sometimes it feels like our tri-campus committee has that many members! Particularly when we're attempting to get them all in one room.)
What I've noticed over the years is that this practice -- the idea for which came from some source unremembered by me now -- is exceedingly helpful and can result in real, practical, purposeful change. We've been holding the festival for almost ten years, and every postmortem has resulted in a meaningful, and often very successful, change in the way we organize and run the weekly events and culminating conference.
Sometimes the changes occur because of seemingly innocuous observations, and sometimes they spring from really obvious, somewhat painful experiences during the most recent event. The key to their effectiveness, however, has usually stemmed from timing: It's important to hold a postmortem soon after the event, not later. We actually held our postmortem for last year's April festival when we returned to school in September . . . and while we managed to have a good meeting and DID create some positive changes, it was a strain to remember all of the details that many months after the fact. Also, I'm almost positive that there were things about the 2015 festival that we really wanted to avoid repeating, or aspects of that year's conference that SHOULD have been repeated, and weren't when 2016 rolled around, simply because we didn't make a note of it. This year, we're going to attempt to hold the postmortem within the next two weeks -- before we all forget about what happened and get lost in finals and graduation and summer classes and summer scholarship.
As I'm planning this meeting, however, I'm acutely aware that I need to hold my own one-woman postmortem, too -- regarding my "performance" in all the various roles I play as a faculty member of SCCC. This habit of evaluating your own performance over a academic year, privately and quietly -- and on a slightly different, more frequent schedule than our promotion cycle (which can also be a helpful self-examination tool) -- can be a way to steadily and consistently tweak your day to day work habits, your pedagogical practices, and your approach to professional development.
Of course, doing a kind of self-examination like this can take time. I mean, if it takes an hour meeting to discuss a week-long festival, then it's natural to assume evaluating an entire year would take longer, right? I suggest, then, beginning the process now -- even though the semester and year isn't entirely over. Break the task up into parts, and have faith that this is a necessary and productive process -- sometimes, I think just having the intention to do the process can be fruitful: the idea germinates at the back of your mind while you administer finals or begin other end-of-academic-year tasks, and eventually that idea will push its way to the forefront and initiate action, even if you fail to write it down.
Ultimately, though, I'm suggesting you write stuff down. It's just easier to remember your ideas this way.
First -- and this is the part I would suggest doing over the next few weeks when you have 5 minutes or so -- list all of the various aspects of your job. What do you daily? Weekly? Monthly? Are you on committees? Which committees? Write them down. What role do you play in those committees? Write that down, too. Are you an advisor? Have you been pulled onto a search committee? (And then been forced to go on hiatus . . . but that's for another post, yes?) How many classes did you teach, and which ones? Bring out those copies of your schedule of assignments for this task, too. Did you follow your schedule? Did you have to adjust for sick days, or because of your student's progress? What kind of quizzes, tests, and papers did you administer?
At this point, you're not assessing/examining/questioning the quality of anything: not those tests, not those paper assignments, not even that committee where you know you played Minesweeper under the table on your phone at each meeting while Big Shot ______ rambled on and on and on. You're simply trying to remember -- what did I do this year? That's all -- what did you DO?
Then -- when finals and student papers have been graded and our annual epic graduation ceremony has been withstood survived gleefully and gladly attended -- THEN set aside some quiet time to briefly (don't make this painful) think about each item on your list and ask: HOW did I do, when I did all of this? Am I satisfied with how this played out? Would I want a different result if I relived that experience again? (Because, honestly, a lot of what happens in academia is circular and will happen again, for good or ill.)
IF you think of a way to correct or alter any aspect of your job while you're working on this part, then by all means, WRITE IT DOWN. A quick note, however sloppily written, will preserve that idea so that later, when you're ready, you can take action.
If you get through this "What Did You Do?" part and you feel exhausted, as if you just worked the academic year all over again, you'll need to take a break. Like, a LONG break. But first circle the one or two areas of your job that clearly need some attention. (Just one or two -- you could try three, but really, what are you, an overachiever?)
Then put the list in a clean/tidy part of your desk (this will be difficult for me), and leave it there until late July or August when you begin your prep for the new academic year. (Or, you know, the second week of September, if you're a professional procrastinator.) Chances are, when you were "taking a break," those hidden parts of your mind were working on solutions and suggestions for those problem areas.
Don't be alarmed or stressed if you don't fix everything right away -- some years you're like, I rocked that thing! and other years you're like, Do I still have a job? How do people still trust me? These are the highs and lows of any career -- the key to longevity is realizing you can only do so much. Do what you can, be patient with yourself, and know that somethings will get done now, and others later, and that it might take several attempts to get things right.
I laugh as I write that last paragraph, because honestly, I'm still one of those "Hey, I'll do EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW" people who end up sometimes (often) asking, Do I still have a job? How do people still trust me?
ANYWAY. The point of this post is to remind us that just as we request feedback from our peers and colleagues whenever we complete projects at work, we should be "requesting" regular feedback from ourselves.
So, the recap:
- Write down "who you are" -- each and every role at the college.
- Write down what you did in each of those roles over the course of the year.
- Evaluate: How'd you do in each of those roles?
- Decide: What will you work on next year? (ONE OR TWO ITEMS. Don't break the rules!)
- Take a break. Put the list away (but remember where you put it).
- Remember the list. Take it out, and begin to brainstorm actions -- achievable goals, people -- for those areas that need attention and revision.
And hey, if it rings your bell, call it self-assessment or whatever the latest pedagogical buzzword is making the rounds as a synonym for quiet, pragmatic reflection . . . just know that taking a moment or two to review the past year can result in more effective, more productive, and more enjoyable future years in your career at Suffolk.
