Why buy the cow?

This blog post is inspired by this past week's #SAchat, which jumped on the oft-thought-taboo topic of leaving student affairs and higher education, but still utilizing student affairs skills. Or, as I'd like to call it, "taking your talents to South Beach" (and yes, some Lebron-leaving-Cleveland comparisons DID get thrown into the chat!).

As the chat went on, a question came up on whether Student Affairs preparatory programs (especially master's programs) should expose their students to opportunities outside the profession. Some participants said "No way, Jose" - this isn't the job of student affairs prep programs! Why would you go and get a student affairs degree unless you KNEW you wanted to do student affairs?? Others said, "Huh. That could be a good idea" - considering how wide and varied the field of higher education actually is, perhaps HESA programs should offer more exposure beyond just student affairs!

I want to pause this blog post here, and take a moment to tell you a story of a young junior in college. Bright-eyed and optimistic, this young lady double-majored in communication and English, with no real purpose in doing either, other than she loved reading and writing, and her parents and mentors said that communication would be a "really useful" degree (side note: it totally was.Yes, this person is me. DARN IT, I didn't mean to reveal that 'til later!). ANYWAY, when asked what I wanted to do after graduation, I would immediately panic. My first instinct has always been to be a teacher; after taking communication classes, I would often say something like "human resources" or another vague corporate-related title. But I had no real knowledge of what I wanted to do after graduation. In college, though, I had an incredible life outside the classroom - I was deeply involved in several student organizations, and besides just giving me some of the best friends I've made in life, these organizations also gave me a purpose for my time in school. So, imagine my SHOCK when one of my advisors (shout-out to you, Sonja!) told me the ultimate secret - what she did, as our organization's advisor, was a FULL-TIME JOB. She went to SCHOOL for it, and got a DEGREE! I was hooked. You mean, I thought, that I would get to work with college students... and stay in college... and plan programs... FOREVER? You can see the appeal, I'm sure. So my senior year, I applied to graduate schools, and by the end of the process I was offered a graduate assistantship at Florida State University.

The rest is not quite history. You see, there were SEVERAL times in graduate school when I questioned what I was doing, and whether or not student affairs was the right profession for me. I don't blame anyone for this - I consciously chose to pursue my master's degree with the level of experience I had as an undergrad. Part of this was because I was convinced that student affairs was the right path for me. I'll be honest, another part was that I didn't have any OTHER plans, and getting a "big-kid job" absolutely terrified me, so graduate school sounded pretty spectacular at the time. The economy was awful, so why not put off the job search for two more years? Not the best motivation, I know, but coupled with my deep-seeded interest in what I knew of higher education, it was enough to get me to graduate school.

Four years later, I still have moments where I question if this is the right profession for me. I now know that that's a completely normal question, one often asked by colleagues in this profession as well as many others. Here's what I wonder, though - could my initial lack of knowledge of the field been addressed before I went to graduate school?  While my mentors and advisors did their absolute best (and beyond) to get me ready for student affairs, was there another step I could have taken for me to test out whether I really wanted to go into higher education? Or, in other words, could I have tried the milk before I bought the whole cow?

(Make sure to read the fine print before you make that bovine purchase!)

As I reflect on this question, I think about other graduate and professional prep programs, like law school or medical school. I've often heard my friends who attended law school say, "You either love or you hate law school. There's no happy medium, there's no in between." The question is, though, how will you know if you love it before you spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on that J.D.? Same with medical school - you may not actually want to be a doctor, but how will you know that until you've spent hundreds of hours studying for the MCAT and, again, hundreds of thousands of dollars on getting your M.D.? How are we giving young people the opportunity to try out the "behind the scenes" of different professions before we ask them to commit to furthering their education? Is there a better way?

My good friend Amma Marfo has blogged about this question before, and posed the answer that perhaps a gap year after undergrad is something that the U.S. (and especially higher education) should culturally consider adopting in order to afford graduates the time to experience the profession for themselves. Similarly, Tim St. John suggests that in order to "grow the profession," we should actually be giving students a more realistic look at "what's behind the curtain" rather than selling that our work is all pizza, icebreakers, and rainbows (as so many like to stereotype student affairs).

Some opportunities like this already exist: NASPA offers an Undergraduate Fellows Program to provide undergrads an opportunity to practice before graduate school. Many institutions offer "create your own" internship experiences for undergrads; my office here at IU has begun what we hope will be a long-standing undergrad summer intern program (look for posts to come about this cool opportunity!). My alma mater, Texas A&M, actually dedicates a one-year, full-time professional position with Class Councils to anyone who wants to "try out" student affairs, no master's degree required.

If these offices, organizations, and institutions have recognized the importance of giving undergraduates the opportunity of a "trial period" before asking them to buy the proverbial cow, why can't the whole profession? Why can't we, as higher education and student affairs professionals, make a commitment to better informing those interested in our work by giving them opportunities to practice? After all, ours is a profession that prides itself on tying what we learn in the classroom to the practical experiences that we have.

To bring this back to the #SAchat discussion, what I'm proposing is that, instead of stigmatizing those who leave the profession as "quitters," instead of blaming the 60% of new professionals who burn out and drop out within 5 years for not managing work-life balance better, let's as a profession take on the responsibility of giving interested parties a better understanding of what our work actually entails before requiring them to make a commitment to it. Let's offer more undergraduate internships and entry-level (meaning no master's required) jobs so that we can openly show "what's behind the curtain" to interested parties rather than requiring that you buy the cow before you taste the milk. After all, as a profession deeply concerned with transparency and authenticity, wouldn't it behoove us to practice as we preach and to be more transparent with what student affairs and higher education actually entail?

At the end of the day, I think these opportunities for pre-graduate-degree-practice would only be a win. Not only would those who commit to graduate school have a MUCH better mental picture of the commitment they are undertaking, but they would truly feel "pulled to something they love," as Amma so eloquently wrote in another blog post (as opposed to realizing 5 years down the road that student affairs just ISN'T for them). Even more, rather than wondering which of our fresh-out-of-grad-school new professionals will be part of the 60% to burn out in 5 years, supervisors and mangers in the field would have a crop of pro's who not only made the conscious commitment to go into student affairs, but who also have a year or more of professional experience prior to graduate school, as well as any assistantship experience gained during graduate programs.

In the end, I don't think it's a bad thing in any way, shape, or form to leave student affairs. I don't think it should be stigmatized, nor do I think it should be a taboo subject. Rather, I encourage us as a field to consider ways to address the cause before the symptoms start, and give interested parties a taste of the amazing things that we get to do as student affairs professionals before we ask them to make the graduate school commitment.

A New Year's Resolutions

The sun is shining bright; campus is already abuzz with residence hall move-in and our welcome week, Seminole Sensation Week; and here we are on the eve of another school year at Florida State. Tomorrow will mark another first day of school and my twentieth consecutive year of schooling, and, at least for a while, my last first day of school. That's right--twenty years of school has led to this, my last two semesters in the classroom (we're going to assume that they're the last for now because I have no immediate plans to get a Ph.D.), and in a little less than eight months, I'll be receiving my master's degree. WHOA.

You'd think after 19 years of school I'd have the process of being a student perfected, but you couldn't be more wrong. There are some things I've gotten down pat: I'm great at putting assignments in my planner and color-coding them so I know what's due when (thanks to my borderline OCD for that one), for example. But there are some habits--bad ones--that have only become more ingrained over the past 19 years. So I find myself, on the eve of each school year, making promises and resolutions to be a better me and, above all, a better student.

This year is a little bit different, though. I mean, I'm still swearing that I'm not going to procrastinate; I'm promising myself NO ALL-NIGHTERS TO WRITE A PAPER. Those resolutions might never change. But my resolutions and promises this year don't just relate to my in-the-classroom performance, but to my out-of-the-classroom performance as well. Like I said, in eight months I won't be a formal student anymore, and so this year, I've decided it's time to be intentional about resolving to be a better student both in and outside the classroom. More than that, I want to form habits this year that are going to benefit me as I get a "big kid job" (although I think that many of my colleagues in student affairs would argue that part of the fun of our profession is not having to be a "big kid" all the time :)). I want to practice the habits that are going to help me take care of myself and, ultimately, help me help my students take better care of themselves, so that when they make new-school year's-resolutions, I can support them and make their habits of excellence happen.

So, without any further ado whatsoever, here are my New School Year's Resolutions.

1. Cut back on procrastinating.

Seriously, this is a habit I've had since at least fourth or fifth grade. I vividly remember my parents trying to teach me to give myself incentives, so that when I finish an assignment, I can give myself a treat. Sorry, Mom and Dad, but that habit didn't take. I am a tried-and-true procrastinator, to my everlasting shame. Each year, I promise myself it won't happen, and for about a week I do just fine, but then I hear the call of Facebook... I just want to watch this one movie... The weather is so nice that I can't miss out on that beach trip... and before I know it, it's the night before my paper is due, and I'm chugging coffee and frantically searching Google Scholar to find my perfect 15 articles to cite for my 10-page paper. And at that moment, I always think, "Now Cassidy, if you didn't procrastinate, you wouldn't be stressed to the point of a nervous breakdown right now. Wouldn't that be NICE?"

Obviously, my previous approaches haven't worked, so this year, I'm going to try a different approach. I won't try to cut procrastination cold-turkey out of my life; that isn't happening. Instead, I'll applaud myself when I DO complete assignments and papers way ahead of time and perhaps treat myself to incentives (a new work blouse or skirt? going to see a movie? download a new song?). Then, when I "fall off the wagon" and make a mistake, as is inevitable, instead of getting angry with myself, I'll make a resolution to do better next time. Stay tuned for a progress report on this everlasting disability of mine.

2. Make my own way.

Professional development is hugely important in my chosen profession, student affairs, as I'm sure it's highly encouraged in other professions as well. We have organizations, Twitter accounts and hashtags, monthly and bi-monthly meetings, newsletters, even specially set-aside budgets, ALL for the purpose of continuing to develop ourselves professionally and to learn outside the classroom. Since I am soon to be a real professional, I want to start being very intentional with my own professional development, and to form the habits now, during my second year of grad school, that will help me when I get my "big kid" job.

However, there are pitfalls to avoid in this quest to become a well-developed, well-rounded professional. I don't know about other career paths, but in student affairs, there are SO MANY PRESCRIPTIONS as to the "right" path of professional development. "If you want to succeed," they say (I don't know who "they" are), "Get a mentor. Join a professional organization. Publish articles. Present at national conferences. Study abroad. Get internships. Switch assistantships. Don't switch assistantships. Make your resume fun. Make your resume professional." The list goes ON. Now, I'm not saying that this advice isn't valid or valuable; on the contrary, many (if not all) of these suggestions are highly valuable for new professionals to consider as ways to get one's name "out there," to start being recognized in our field, and to navigate the first few years of our professional lives.

However, the biggest challenge--what I'm challenging myself to do--is to remember that THERE IS NO ONE PATH TO SUCCESS. Each professional I EVER encounter will have found their own unique way to get to where they are, and I don't have to copy their footsteps to become as successful as they are. Of course, I should utilize these professionals as great sources of advice and encouragement as I navigate my own professional path, but I should never fear to strike out on my own, to forge my own path through that forest of professional development.

3. Read more.

This is something that I've never struggled with--reading is one of my favorite things to do. But every year, I should seek to expand my horizons, and ESPECIALLY considering this is my last year of in-the-classroom learning, I need to get used to the process of finding my own learning through reading.

Of course, this means reading more books related to my profession (as part of the above, making my own way). Then again, I don't want to get so bogged down in my career that it becomes my life; so part of this is to continue reading as MANY books in as MANY subjects as I can get my hands on. The classics, new bestsellers, biographies and autobiographies, histories, sci-fi, romance, mystery, ANYTHING--every book I read expands my world a little bit more and gives me an escape whenever I need it. I should ALWAYS strive to read more.

4. Love more.

There are so many opportunities, every day of life, to show love to the people around us. Each person we meet in this life is special and deserving of love, and when I'm in a serving profession like student affairs, I have the special opportunity of showing love and appreciation to students, colleagues, and others every. single. day. With that, I have to be intentional about showing love. This includes, but is not limited to:

-Empowering my students more, to help them realize they can do anything they set their sights on

-Appreciating my students more, to let them know that what they've accomplished is a job well done

-Continuing to build relationships with my cohort, to form strong bonds before we scatter to the four winds in the coming job search

-Supporting and serving as a resource for the incoming cohort, to let the first-years know they have a friend and listening ear whenever needed

-Forming a strong bond with my office staff, so we can serve as a united front and as a support network for each other if times get rough (which, in student activities, is more common than we'd like :))

-Reaching out more to my best friends from before graduate school, to maintain the relationships I already have, and to let them know that, even though I'm over 1,000 miles away, I still want to be there for them

-Being intentional with telling my family how much I love and appreciate them and their support through thick and through thin

-Being a positive and helpful person all-around, and trying to make at least one person smile each day

What are your new school year's resolutions?

"Squeezing the Sponge"

Good morning! And a good Wednesday morning it is, although rather hot and humid here in Tallahassee ( I should expect nothing less by now!).

Summer has come as usual with its hot days, weekends by the pool, grilling cookouts, and baseball games in the dusk (I. Love. Summer.), but this particular summer has also afforded me with one of the most full work schedules I've ever had. Currently, Florida State is in the midst of its Orientation for the Class of 2015, and as the graduate assistant for the Student Alumni Association, one of the largest student organizations on campus, summer Orientation is our prime membership recruitment time. So for the past four weeks and the next two, I'm outside with my students in the afternoon, advertising SAA and asking passers-by to take a picture with our cutouts of the Garnet and Gold Glitter Guys, and then in the evenings I am helping welcome parents to FSU by hosting receptions out at our Alumni Association. So from 1pm to 10pm (with a break for dinner), I'm on the go, in the heat, working and working and working some more.

This work is enjoyable, for SURE. It's amazing to be reminded of the zeal of the incoming freshmen and other students who are so excited and apprehensive to begin their college careers (and strange to realize it's been five years since I was doing the same thing!). I love helping answer parents' questions and helping them navigate the confusing world that is being a parent of a college student. Most of all, I love the additional time with my students over the summer, when we can relax a lot of the rigidity that the school year holds, develop stronger relationships as friends and as GA to students, and enjoy publicizing our organization to new students.

However, this busy summer schedule also holds a deep challenge for me, one that I must work very hard to overcome every day. You see, my number one StrengthsQuest strength is Empathy, or the ability to be able to see others' perspectives and really put myself in their shoes. This strength has been SUCH a blessing over the years, as it has enabled me to work better in group settings, to get to know new friends and colleagues, and to serve as a mediator between friends and in the workplace. Even so, those of you who are familiar with StrengthsQuest also know that all strengths have a "shadow side," or a challenging side to them. Even if you aren't familiar with StrengthsQuest, you have probably realized that some of your greatest personality and work strengths can double as your greatest challenges as well (for example, motivation can turn into pushing others; friendliness can turn into people-pleasing; adaptation can turn into indecisiveness). For me, empathy holds a great danger: compassion fatigue.

As I said, my Empathy enables me to put myself wholly in others' shoes; to really understand how they think and how that affects their actions, and then to convey that to others. However, as I pour myself into others (and let them pour themselves into me), I become a combination lighting rod and sponge for emotion. That's the danger in empathy--with understanding of others comes, well, an empathy for how they feel; a true knowledge of what's in their mind and heart. And while I love being able to convey emotion to others and enable understanding, soaking up emotions all day gets--as you can imagine--EXHAUSTING. When I get home, although I've enjoyed my day, my mind (my sponge, if you will) is FULL of others' happinesses, joys, sadnesses, anxieties, stresses, and every other emotion they exude throughout the day.

Don't get me wrong; I love having the strength of empathy. Many times, this skill has enabled me to build bridges where none existed and to strengthen relationships, both professional and personal. It's given me insight into people that I thought I could never understand, and a true compassion for every human being around me. However, as I said, the danger in compassion is what many in this profession have encountered--compassion fatigue, the danger of being so full of others' emotions that you become numb and feel no longer. Many days, my sponge gets full, and I'm "plumb tuckered out."

So how do I combat this fatigue? I take part in what Dr. Adrienne Frame, Director of Housing here at FSU, calls "squeezing the sponge." When my brain, my heart--my "sponge"--gets too full, I have to take time for myself, to "wring it out," to process and think (or sometimes not think at all!), and to come back to work and life the next day renewed and ready for more interactions, sponge empty and ready for more.

Recently, this "sponge-squeezing time" has taken the form of me becoming a SERIOUS homebody. It's not that I don't enjoy hanging out with my friends; I most definitely do! But on weekends, when I FINALLY have time to spend on myself, I like to be by myself. Whether that takes the form of reading a book, or catching up with my favorite television shows, or watching movies, or SLEEPING, I enjoy "me-time" to focus on myself and to engage in that self-care that is oh so important in life.

And you know what? I refuse to feel guilty for taking care of myself. Everyone needs sponge-squeezing time, and the most important thing is to know WHEN you need it and to know HOW you can do it.

So think about it. How do you squeeze your sponge? What refreshes you and renews you for a new day? And how do you encourage those around you to take their own time to renew themselves?

Until next time, readers, I hope your summer days are bright and your summer nights are cool (oh, those summer nights.). :)

How do you conference?

Good morning, all! As teased in my previous post, I really wanted to make a point to talk about a new concept in my life—that of the conference personality. I recently experienced my first professional conference alongside several fellow graduate students and new professionals, and I noticed pretty early on that each of us had a different way of experiencing the conference; each of our personalities and purposes for attending affected the way in which we interacted with the people and presentations around us.

This post will serve to talk about several of the different species of conference-goers I have identified, and I’d love to hear more varieties from you readers. How do YOU conference?

AWAY WE GO!

1. The Social Butterfly:

Ah, the Social Butterfly. We all know this conference attendee and have seen them in action. Brave and tireless, the Butterfly may or may not attend different presentations throughout the day, but by gosh, they are making EVERY MINUTE COUNT by making connections with the people around them. Once the sun goes down, it’s game over—the Social Butterfly has dinner plans, after-dinner plans, meet-ups, Alumni reunions, receptions, and after-reception receptions to attend. They go and go ‘til the wee hours of the morning, skip the earliest morning sessions to catch up on sleep, and are ready and raring to go get coffee with new and old friends by 11 a.m.

I attended NASPA with a couple of social butterflies, and let me tell you, I wish I had their stamina! Of course, the Butterfly makes a point to save up their energy for the networking they’re doing, but in a room full of people, the Butterfly refuses to know a stranger. For those of you that have taken StrengthsQuest, the Social Butterfly is often a “Woo”—Winning Others Over. By the end of the conference, the Butterfly has 50 new business cards, 100 new Twitter followers, and was the belle of the ball. Even if you’re not a butterfly, it’s great to have friends who are, because they can help you along in your networking if you’re a little leery of crowds (like I am!). All hail the Social Butterfly!

2. Interested and Intentional

The Interested and Intention (I&I) conference-goer is a sight to see. They set their sights on a high purpose for conference attendance: learning! The I&I purposefully selects each presentation to fit their interests and hopes to truly be engaged in the sessions. They go to at least 2 or 3 of the keynote speeches and take notes, listening and having an inner dialogue with the content. They are at the conference to truly make the most out of the information presented.

This is not to say that the I&I isn’t social! Oh no, quite the contrary. The I&I is intentional in their social time as well—they plan ahead for the conference, making contact with old friends to meet up and with colleagues for suggestions on who to meet with and what to talk about.

I attended NASPA with an I&I, and I was SO impressed by the manifold things that she got out of the conference. Not only did she intentionally select the sessions she attended to support the work she does, she also contacted old advisors to see if any of their former colleagues were attending NASPA, and if she could set up breakfast, lunch, or coffee dates with them. In doing so, she got the opportunity to sit down with a group of senior student affairs officers—Vice Presidents, Deans, etc.—and pick their brains for an hour or two. She made a point to be intentional about her conference experience, and it paid off. All hail the I&I!

3. The Grab Bag

Last but not least, a type of conference-goer I’d like to describe is what I’m calling “The Grab Bag.” The Grab Bag is exactly that—they attend conferences for a variety of purposes and a potpourri of experiences. Absolutely they’re at the conference for professional development! Absolutely they’d like to make time to meet up with old friends and colleagues! Absolutely they want to meet up with new acquaintances! Absolutely they want to explore the city in which the conference is held! For the Grab Bag, a conference is, in and of itself, a variety of meaningful and fun experiences, and the Grab Bag tries to make the most out of all of them.

I know this conference-goer well… it’s me! Especially because NASPA was the first professional conference I attended, I wanted to make sure to experience each part of the conference week to see what I liked best. Now that I’ve experienced all of them, I know that I want to KEEP doing that! I arrived in Philadelphia a few days early to sightsee; I made sure to attend presentations and keynotes that would most encourage my professional development; I set aside time to have one-on-one breakfast and lunch dates with old friends and new. And I am VERY satisfied with my conference experience.

A Word of Caution

No matter your conference type, Butterfly, I&I, Grab Bag, or Other, the true key to attending any conference is to Know. Your. Limits. Personally, I know I’m not a night person. Once 10:00 p.m. rolls around, my rapier wit and sparkling charm start fading fast, and I’ve known this for a while. So I made it a point to do all of my networking and spending time with friends during the day. Sure, it meant that I skipped a few rounds of concurrent sessions, but ultimately I made some great connections with other conference attendees, so it was all worth it. I knew that I couldn’t hang every night with my Social Butterfly friends who were awake ‘til 1 or 2 a.m., so I made a point to save up my energy ‘til the last night of the conference when I knew we’d be out for a while.

Know how easily you get tired, know how you deal with tiredness.

If you’re attending the conference with friends or colleagues, be mindful of their conference personality, their limits, and how they deal with stress.

Most of all, know what you want out of a day—to network, to learn, to sight-see, to have a happy medium of all of them. Prioritize, prioritize, prioritize. Know your conference personality!

This list isn’t comprehensive, by any means, but it’s definitely a good start to what I know will be a LONG life of conference attendance and observations. I think I’m going to make it a point to try to identify sub-species of each of these types of conference-goers, and maybe find some new species along the way!

I Heard it Through the Grapevine: My First Professional Conference

Greetings, all! I realize that this post is a bit delayed (the conference in question having ended two weeks ago), but I have been on a MARATHON catch up mission over the past two weeks, and so (unfortunately) have not had time to blog. (More on the catching-up thing later.)ANYWAY, I would still like to say what I have to say about my first professional conference… so away we go!

Two weeks ago today, I had just completed my first stint at a national profession-specific conference. Within higher education and student affairs, we have two main all-encompassing professional organizations, ACPA and NASPA. I’m a member of NASPA, which stands for the National Association of Student Personnel Administrators, and we just had our big annual conference in the grand city of Philadelphia, PA.

Let me tell you, it was a GREAT experience. As the title suggests, attending NASPA was my first professional conference experience, and I went in with a LOT of expectations and rumors as to what it would be like… many of which differed from what the conference was ACTUALLY like. So this post is going to be dedicated to breaking down my time at NASPA, and what it’s like to be a professional at a professional conference. (Who’s grown up now? ME! Kind of.)

EXPECTATIONS… and ANTICIPATION

Through the grad student grapevine in my program, I had heard many different stories concerning professional conferences—how they run, how to balance your time when attending, how to meet people, etc. My program hosted a small-scale ethics conference in February, and from that experience I had a few expectations as well. Going into NASPA, here’s what I expected:

-I was going to be tired by the end. Really tired.

-It was going to be REALLY easy to meet people; so easy that it would be strange if I left the conference without several new acquaintances.

-I needed to be on my A-game. Professionals would be everywhere… professionals who could eventually give me a job in a year. And they would be watching. So I needed to be dressed for success, on my best behavior, and generally prepped for some major networking opportunities.

-I wasn’t really sure how the session aspect of NASPA would go (you know, the presentations. The actual professional development part of the whole conference thing). I didn’t get a chance to attend a presentation during the conference my program hosted, so I wasn’t sure how many I wanted to attend per day, whether or not I would need to take notes, etc.

Most of all, I wasn’t sure what to expect for a conference in Philadelphia. I had never been to Philly before, and my friends with whom I attended the conference and I had set aside a day and a half to explore the city. I also knew that our hotel was directly across the street from the Convention Center. But how would the flow of the city interact with the conference? Where would we eat lunch and dinner? Would the Philadelphians be okay with 5,000 student affairs professionals invading their space? How would we navigate the city? Would we brave public transportation? And—perhaps most importantly—where could I find a good Philly cheesesteak?!?

THE REALITY, or HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE NASPA

The actual NASPA experience, as I’ve told you, was GREAT. Not only was I able to meet some amazing fellow student affairs professionals, I also got a great big healthy dose of professional development, which has recently been lacking in my life.

To answer your most burning question, YES, PHILADELPHIA WAS AWESOME. It’s an amazing city, full of history and interesting people and places and funky facts and some of the best food I’ve eaten in a while. As I said, we took a few days to explore the city before NASPA started so that we could concentrate on the conference when it actually began, and I fell in love with the City of Brotherly Love. Here were my very favorite things about Philly:

1. Reading Terminal Market—located right next to the Philadelphia Convention Center, this railroad terminal-turned-market has THE BEST FOOD EVER, all in one convenient location. I could have eaten at Reading for every meal and had different food every time I went. It was inexpensive, too! I can’t sing Reading’s praises enough… especially the fresh-made cinnamon rolls. TO. DIE. FOR.

2. HISTORY! Listen, this could be a post in itself, so I’ll just remind you of the most important thing: Philadelphia is the cradle of American society. The Declaration of Independence and Constitution were both created and signed there. It was the home of many Founding Fathers AND Mothers, including Betsy Ross, one of my favorite historic figures. If you go, you must see: The Liberty Bell. Independence Hall. Basically ALL of Old City. The MASONIC TEMPLE (Freemasons are awesome). City Hall (and get a local to tell you about the Curse of William Penn!). Philly is a city chock-full of history, and I consider the things I experienced there an essential part of my conference experience.

3. The tourist stuff: Now, I know that most city locals HATE tourists, but I make it a point to do the things that touring companies recommend. After all, the sites wouldn’t be famous if there wasn’t something interesting about them, right? So, of course, for Philadelphia the tourist destinations include a lot of the historic things I mentioned above. But it also includes things like:The Love Statue in JFK Plaza. The Avenue of the Americas. The Philadelphia Musem of Art, including THE ROCKY STATUE (the museum is where Rocky runs up the steps. Did I run the steps? You bet your boots). CHEESESTEAK*. Chinatown. And more.

*I did the Geno’s vs. Pat’s challenge. I preferred Geno’s, but the final decision was split. But here’s the kicker—apparently most Philly natives prefer a more hole-in-the-wall cheesesteak place, not these two famous joints. Definitely go to Pat’s and Geno’s for the experience—and make sure you order correctly—but then make sure to take time to listen to the locals’ advice on where to get the best cheesesteak.

All of this leads up to one of the major lessons I learned: Experience the city where the conference is held. For me, being in our host city was half the fun of the conference. Next year, I’ll make sure to set aside time to explore Phoenix (NASPA 2012!), because seeing our host city through the eyes of its inhabitants made my conference experience that much more meaningful.

The second NASPA lesson I learned is one that I hadn’t expected to learn, but that helped me retain my sanity up through the end of the six days when I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to board the plane back to Atlanta: everyone has a Conference Personality, and knowing your CP is the key to getting the most out of your conference experience.

You see, I figured out that those expectations I had going into NASPA were given to me by a wide variety of people—fellow grads and professionals, and a little from my own personal experience—and, as such, didn’t necessarily all apply to me. To use the slang, the most important thing I took away from my conference experience was to do me. (You know, “you just do you, and I’mma do me”? No? Okay. Now you know.) I had to live NASPA my own way, not the way of the people I was with… and I could still get as much (if not more) out of the conference by doing that.

In the end, my conference experience came down to KNOWING MYSELF, which is my first piece of advice for the first-time conference go-er. Know your limitations, know your excitements, and know what you want to get out of the conference. Participate, don’t anticipate. And most importantly, make sure that you are taking part in the whole reason why professional conferences exist: professional development.

Continuing to grow as a professional in my field, in any field, is ESSENTIAL—without taking time to grow, how can I help the students I work with to do the same? And what an opportunity to professionally develop, alongside 5,000 fellow student affairs enthusiasts, all of whom I can learn something new from!

NASPA 2011 was unforgettable, and I can’t wait to experience my next professional conference.

Standing still, moving forward

Good morning, faithful followers! Last time we met, I was extolling the virtues of D-I-Y and preparing for the challenges of my current growth spurt.

February continues to be both an exciting and challenging month for me and for many students, grads, and professionals I know. The semester is in full swing, organizations are kicking back in gear, expectations are high, and a solid routine has been established.

Well, that last one is a little bit questionable, for me, at least. I always seem to start each semester thinking, “Oh, I have time to get my schedule settled, then I’ll fix a time to do homework, to work out, and to spend regular time with friends. And sleep.” Then, lo and behold, it’s the middle of February, and I still haven’t found a good time to get to the gym (is there ever a good time to get to the gym?), and I’m fluctuating between 11 hours of sleep a night on (free) weekends and 5 hours per night during the week. (ouch.) I try to plan for the rest of the semester, trying to establish a routine that’ll help me be successful, and it seems like I blink and the semester is over.

This feeling of balancing the present with the future is something that I’ve been reflecting on in many aspects of my life recently. Just like the title of this post, often I feel like I’m standing still, looking to move forward, and then all of a sudden it’s the future…and I missed the present.

A few of my best friends in my grad program and I were recently at a professional conference, listening to a wonderful keynote speech by a hero of our student affairs field (shoutout to Dr. Marcia Baxter Magolda!), and she set aside time during her speech for us to talk in groups about our self-authorship (the concept of listening to and trusting one’s inner voice) and our students’ paths to self-authorship, and how we can help each other along the way. Well, let me tell you, reflection is a FAVORITE pastime of us student affairs grads, so my friends and I got into some deep conversations in the 5-minute discussion times allotted to us.

One of the pieces of our conversation and reflection stands out to me as I think back, and really relates to my personal feelings about the subject of this post, standing still and moving forward. As first-year students in a two-year Master’s degree program, it seems like we have a LOT to learn in a SHORT amount of time. Our good friends the second-years are already embarking upon their job searches, trying to secure various spots as professionals in our field, and we first-years often get a little caught up thinking about—and worrying about—that future. Job searching A YEAR AWAY is a little too close for comfort, and a few of us first-years have begun to consider what our areas of interest within our field are, where we might want to work, and more, and trying to make choices based upon those hopes and desires.

However, as my friends and I were reflecting on this seemingly imminent future, we paused for a moment. We realized we were getting caught up in a future that is a year away, and losing sight of the amazing learning, growing, and sharing opportunities we have RIGHT NOW.

This question—how do I balance preparing for the future with living in and enjoying the present?—is starting to pervade into other areas of my life, as I mentioned before. Even the simplest thing, such as me counting down to (what I like to call) my triumphant return visit to my undergrad in two weeks, is me focusing on the FUTURE and pushing through the PRESENT. Granted, I’ve been looking forward to this trip for several months, but isn’t that the problem? Because—and here’s the tough question—what happens when it’s over?

Think on that a minute. Sometimes, we spend so much time looking forward to and preparing for the future, that

we forget to stop,

look around,

smell some roses,

love some people,

and enjoy the moment.

That’s my new goal for this semester (I don’t want to look more forward than that!): to REALLY and truly take time to appreciate—that’s right, I said appreciate—every. single. moment, good OR BAD.

So while I’m appreciating the moment, soaking it in, and truly taking time to be thankful for everything around me, I encourage you to do the same.

Growth Spurt, 2K11

So here comes another crazy growing up metaphor from yours truly:

When you’re young, you go through growth spurts. Some days you think you’re going to stay 4’1” for forever, then during the night your shins hurt, and a week later you’re 6 feet tall. Okay, maybe not that quickly, but you get the point, right?

Well, as I’ve discovered over the past (oh, how long has it been since I last posted…) four months, becoming an adult (mentally. emotionally. whatever.) is the same way. You may go a few months, thinking you’ve hit your learning limit for a while, and BOOM… it’s growth time. Unfortunately, these “growth spurts” don’t always happen when you want them to. So not only do you have to deal with the discomfort of growing, you have to deal with the growth at a time that is (usually) unexpected and (often) inconvenient.

So far, Spring 2011 has been a constant growth spurt. The hardest part about growing now is the nature of this semester: classes, coursework, my job, EVERYTHING is enjoyable, but it is also extraordinarily challenging. I am learning yet another lesson of growing up: just because something is fun doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. (I’m sure there’s a corollary to that…just because something is easy doesn’t mean it’s going to be fun?) Additionally, balancing those two aspects—learning and enjoying myself—is more difficult than I anticipated.

This is another one of those times when my mentors and advisors in student affairs were proven correct. I recall them saying…

“You know, one of the hardest semesters in graduate school is your second one. You’re getting the swing of things at work, so they’ll challenge you more and expect more from you as a professional, and as for classes, it’s the same thing—they truly challenge you so that they can broaden your horizons and ensure that you’re really doing your work at the graduate level.”

Of course, we all know what my response is to “stories from the trenches.” (I think I’m going to start referring to all student affairs anecdotes as “stories from the trenches.” Be prepared to hear some before this growing up thing is all said and done.) I think, “Oh, okay, so my advisors were challenged. But, you know, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to be as hard as they say, right?”

WRONG. Wrong, wrong, wrong. (Dearest advisors, how could I ever doubt you?)

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining (surprisingly). I actually relish the challenge; I look forward to the prospect of coming out on the other side of this semester as a better person and professional. I’m excited about my classes—Diversity, Student Development Theories (I’m geeking out about that one), and Outcomes of Undergraduate Education (an assessment class). I’m enjoying taking a more hands-on advisory role with the students I advise, and I have already learned a lot from the projects I’m undertaking at work. Even more so, I’m expanding my horizons and interning with the Office of Greek Life here at Florida State, which is a student affairs dream come true for me (once again, geeking out).

Also, I have the confidence and reassurance of my faith to help me through the tough times. It’s hard times like this where the cliches actually do come to have meaning, and I have enough hindsight and perspective on my life so far to see that they really are true. Three of these “cliches”—ehh, I don’t like that; let’s call them maxims—really do resonate with me and are bolstering my spirits for the challenges ahead:

1. Where God closes a door, some way He opens a window.

2. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.

3. Everything happens for a reason.

Knowing these things, and knowing I have the support (and extreme empathy) of my family, fellow graduate students, advisors, mentors, and professionals, makes this growth spurt a little easier, and gives me the extra confidence I need to power through this semester.

This is cassidy, signing off to go grow some more.

Growing Pains

Here I am in the sixth week of graduate school, in the sixth week of a new phase of my life, and I figured it was time to sit down and take stock of everything. Before I get to the meat of the post, let me preface with a mini-life update, and then I’ll share what has spurred my newest “Eureka!” moment.

Life in my new state is… different. Last time I posted, I spoke to my feelings of fear about my job; fear that I would be inadequate and fear of being far away from home. Well, I started my job and my new graduate classes, and, surprisingly, the first few weeks breezed by. It has definitely been part of the growing-up challenge to get used to my routine (work during the day, class in the evenings, balancing homework time and social life time), but slowly I’m getting the hang of the balance. Luckily, I’m surrounded by a wonderful group of new friends and wise professionals who are more than willing to support me and share their own experiences.

All the professionals I’ve met along the way have been more than happy to share their grad school highs and lows, which has been SUCH a valuable resource for me during both the application process and now that I’m actually a grad student. However, I wish I had listened to them a little more closely…

You see, as I was going through the grad school decision-making process, I was told by all of my mentors and advisors that there would be an intense period of unease in my first semester as a grad student. They all told me that they were homesick, tired, and struggled with questioning their decision to attend grad school. When I heard all of this, of course I sympathized, but in the deep recesses of my mind, I thought, “I can get through all that. Sure, I might be a little homesick, but there’s no reason to question why I’m in student affairs—I know I’m happy in this field, that I can make a difference!”

How silly of me, to think I was above that struggle.

Sure enough, the past week has been a very thought-provoking and intense time, with me being uncomfortable and unsure of myself in EVERY aspect of my life, and desperately wondering whether I was meant to do this after all. It wasn’t caused by any one factor, which should have clued me in to what this struggle was REALLY about, but it did seem overwhelming and all-encompassing.

Two experiences have helped me begin to process these crazy and intense emotions and questions.

First, in my wonderful Student Personnel Work class, our professor asked us how our transition was going. I raised my hand and was honest with the class that I was having a tough time. And then… ALMOST EVERYONE ELSE RAISED THEIR HANDS AND SAID THE EXACT SAME THINGS. Turns out, my mentors and advisors were right (as usual :))—EVERYONE goes through a period of homesickness, discomfort, and questioning. As my professor put it, we ARE in a transition right now. We are neither here nor there—a strange combination of professional and student, distanced from our undergraduate institutions yet not entirely certain of our new institution, far from old friends and settling in with new. And IT’S OKAY TO BE IN THIS AWKWARD TIME. Hey, everyone’s awkward right now. We just have to embrace it, own it, and learn from it.

The second “Eureka!” moment I had regarding my struggle came last night, in my Ethical Leadership in Higher Education class. There we were, discussing different leadership theories, talking about how the study of leadership has changed over the decades. In the midst of our deep discussion, we hit upon Heifetz and Laurie’s 1999 article “The Work of Leadership” and their discussion of how to deal with active challenges versus technical challenges, and then dealing with the resulting distress.

That word “distress” resonated with me, and with the class—we spent a significant portion of the discussion on what it means to deal with adaptive challenges and the distress that comes with them. In an adaptive challenge, change is necessary. With change comes stress, discomfort, and pain. As a leader, you must be able to negotiate the line between encouraging your followers to grow (and dealing with their resulting discomfort) and pushing them too hard.

Here comes the “Eureka!”; maybe you’ve already spotted it—with change comes stress, discomfort, and pain.

Think about physical growth when you’re a child and adolescent—you experience growing pains, your body’s physical manifestation of the growth that’s occuring. In mental and professional growth, we must also deal with pain; it just doesn’t manifest itself physically (although ask your average grad student, and I bet you we can tell you ALL about our physical problems because of our stress!), but rather as acute discomfort and pain. Growth IS stress. That’s a fact of life.

However, when the “growth spurt” is done, when you’re out of the “pressure cooker” and on the other side, you have to consider—wasn’t the pain worth it?

For me, the pain WILL be worth it. For the rest of my career, yeah, I’ll have to deal with stress, discomfort, and sometimes pain, but if it makes me a better person and a better professional, isn’t it worth it? Yes, it is.

And just as I accept and embrace my fear, I accept and embrace ALL of the discomfort that comes with growth, because it means that, slowly but surely, I’m growing up. The question is how I’m going to deal with the discomfort as it comes. And thankfully, I have family, friends, and colleagues who are the best support I could ask for in my times of growth. I can only hope I serve them the same way.

The sixth week of my graduate career is almost at a close; the rest of my career is on the horizon. And it’s a beautiful thing.

Don't let your life pass you by

So this is change.

Tonight, as I hung up on two consecutive phone calls from two good friends and former counselors of mine, I experienced the first (well, second—first was watching my parents drive away) acute and stinging pangs of homesickness.

Let me qualify: So far, my new home state is beautiful. I enjoyed the drive here (although it was LONG), I’ve enjoyed settling in with my roommates, I have LOVED getting to know my new cohort classmates and cannot wait to embark upon the journey of the next three years with them. We have orientation tomorrow (I LOVE that word and all it stands for) and I start work Tuesday; we have a busy welcome week with classes starting a week from tomorrow! And I cannot WAIT to get to know my students.

That being said, it’s hard to let go of the past. This time of year is always special because of my beloved organizations, and here I am in a different state; even more, a different TIME ZONE, at a different university, getting ready to ADVISE students as they come back to school and their own organizations, wishing at this very moment to be dyeing my hair, organizing discussion group times, making tutus, buying school supplies, and generally being at home at my undergrad.

I’m afraid. I’m afraid of beginning a time in a new city, a new state, at a new university with a culture very different from the one I’m used to. I’m afraid of my new classes, hoping that I will be able to succeed as a graduate student. I’m afraid of being in a professional advisory capacity to students; afraid that I will be an insufficient helper to them in their times of greatest need. And I am deeply afraid that, in spite of my heart being so at home right now, my loved ones far away will forget about me.

But, as I have begun to discover, growing up is all about fear. It’s about recognizing what fears exist. It’s about acknowledging those fears, what they entail, and where they stem from. And, ultimately, it’s deciding that the direction in which I want to head in life—the path that I choose—is worth all the fear.

The relationships I will be building over the next two years, the students I will be interacting with and learning from, the professionals whose guidance will ground me and lead me, the beautiful new things I will be learning about my chosen profession—all these things make this pain, this fear, this sadness, WORTH IT.

Ultimately, I do need to accept the homesickness for what I am comfortable with and the fear that I will be forgotten.

But I also need to hold on to the truth that I know for a fact I am loved and supported even over those 1,000 miles, and those people are completely confident in me.

Even more than that, I need to embrace what the past has given me. But instead of letting the fear hold me back, I need to let the strength and knowledge I have gained over the past four years bolster my hope and give me the reassurance that I HAVE chosen the right path and profession for me. I WILL be learning a lot, and I MIGHT struggle sometimes, but the fact remains that my passion for this field remains, and I’m not going anywhere.

So, as orientation begins tomorrow, and as I begin to orient myself on the path towards a master’s degree and a professional career, I do miss my past, but I am letting it settle into me as the foundations for a bright and happy future on a new path, in a new place, with new and promising friends, mentors, and lessons to learn. My undergraduate career did much to make me who I am up ‘til now, but it’s time to take the leap towards the person I want to become.

Deep thoughts for a Sunday night, but, as one of my favorite authors says, “For each of us comes a time when we must be more than what we are.” (Lloyd Alexander)

My time is now. When is yours?