NOTES FROM THE

REFLECTIVE PRACTITIONER by Paul Pribbenow, Ph.D.

Volume Five, Number One (October 2003)

"What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how."

–W. Wordsworth, from "The Prelude"

NOTES FROM READERS  

What you think

I’m a bit early this issue as I’m about to depart for ten days in Japan – visiting Kobe College, a sister institution founded in the late 19th century by a Rockford College alumna.

I had the very happy opportunity at the end of August to visit mid-coastal Maine and to participate in the tenth anniversary celebration of Demont & Associates, a consulting firm based in Portland, Maine.  While there I joined with a distinguished group of professionals in discussions about philanthropy and the work of philanthropic professionals.  I caught up with my good friend and erstwhile colleague Don Johnson, who works with the Demont firm, and I also met for the first time a long-time subscriber to these Notes, David Lawrence, who has retired to Maine.  David is the former head of philanthropy at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota and now consults for the Harvard Medical School.  Coincidentally, David wrote after my last Notes with these kind words: “You cause type A’s to pause, to aspire and to rejoice in the nobility AND humility of acts of philanthropy transforming the collective and “common good” of the organizations we serve.”

Thank you, David, and bravo to all of you working on behalf of a stronger philanthropic community in the northeast U.S.  May Demont live long and prosper in its good work!

Occasionally, I (or my colleagues) refer to items from previous issues of Notes.   If you have not been a subscriber previously, and wish to review our conversations, past issues of Notes are available on-line at www.jgacounsel.com.  The website version of Notes also includes helpful hyperlinks to sources for purchasing or subscribing to the various publications mentioned in Notes.   I thank my friends at Johnson, Grossnickle & Associates for their abiding support for our reflective practice.

REFLECT ON THIS

A civic education  

[The following essay is excerpted from my opening convocation address to the Rockford College community, thus some of its specific allusions.  It speaks, however, to a deeper set of issues about educating citizens in a democracy that I hope will resonate for you.]

I had the opportunity during my year as a research fellow at the Center of Inquiry in the Liberal Arts at Wabash College to delve into the cultures and missions of various colleges – I read many college catalogs and mission statements and was always struck by the distinct sagas and values they presented.

I, of course, was looking for how the liberal arts were positioned in the institution, but what became apparent was that almost all institutions celebrated the liberal arts – what was distinctive was what else they felt strongly enough about to link with their liberal arts focus.  Through this research I began to explore the various “arts” that define the human experience.  By an “art,” I mean a skill that is attained by study, practice, or observation; or, a skill arising from the exercise of intuitive faculties.  If the liberal arts privilege the intellect (with our common focus on critical thinking, communication skills, moral reflection, and narrative imagination), then what else do we believe needs to be learned by our students to be successful as they embark on their lives?

For some schools, the liberal arts are complemented with a strong focus on the physical arts – yet others link liberal and domestic arts – many find interesting connections between the liberal and professional arts, or the liberal and fine arts.  These are not, of course, exclusive categories; we find all of these “arts” at play in the life of most schools, but it can be an intriguing exercise to see what is privileged in the history and values of the institution!

This exercise has been extremely valuable as I have come to know the Rockford College story and community these past 18 months.  Here I have found a college that has long pursued a strong link between the liberal arts and what I will call the civic or democratic arts, the arts of citizenship.  Here, I found a college with a deep and abiding saga of educating students for a life in the world that was reflective, productive, and civic-minded – Jane Addams herself learned the power of this story, just 30 years after the college’s founding when she matriculated here, and after her generations of women and men have found in this college the experiences, the teaching and learning, the relationships, and the challenges to shape a life for the common good that define us still.

It is an old vision of higher education – perhaps first posited by Cicero in 55 BCE, when he wrote in his De Oratore, “Thus I think that no one ought to be numbered among the orators who is not polished in all those arts that are proper for a free citizen” – and it is a vision that has manifested itself in various forms throughout the history of education – it is not, however, a model for higher education that we can take for granted here in the 21st century.

And so, we find ourselves today in an institution with a rare and abiding commitment to a vision of higher education that sets us apart, but that also challenges us not to take for granted the deliberate work that must be done to understand and practice this form of education that ties our aspirations to prepare students for lives that are reflective, productive and civic-minded, lives grounded in the best of the liberal and civic arts.

What does it mean for our college to believe that the civic or democratic arts are an important aspect of what we do here.  It is easy to take for granted, even to overlook, what it means to be a citizen, let alone a good citizen.  Evidence abounds of ways in which our democracy has not done a very good job of shaping a citizenry that understands its obligations – as well as its rights.  Take a moment to consider voting rates, the state of public discourse, even odd recall elections…

I believe that our responsibility as a college that has an historic and continuing commitment to the civic arts is to consider the educational and developmental challenges we face with students who come to us perhaps eager to learn and be engaged, but for whom role models and exemplary civic practices have been lacking.  I see at least three phases, not necessarily linear phases (no education is linear!), but three broad categories, of civic education that I believe we must consider as we imagine how to strengthen our efforts to educate citizens at Rockford College.

Our first concern, we must admit, is how to ensure that all of us share a basic civic literacy – the perspectives, experiences and skills of a responsible citizen – the foundation we must build individually and as a society to combat civic disengagement, civic naiveté, and civic amnesia.  A couple of examples:

What are the source texts of our democracy and how well do we know them?  I keep a copy of the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution on my desk.  Why? So that I never will forget the foundational values and struggles of the society in which we have the privilege to live…”When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one People to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to Separation.”  Incredible words.  What do they say about our ancestors?  What do they say about monuments to the Ten Commandments in Alabama courthouses or recall elections for governor in California?  The civic arts begin with the source texts that define our lives together.

On this foundation, then, we must explore and understand the history of our civic lives.  As the poet Maya Angelou writes, “Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need for this bright morning dawning for you.  History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.” 

Sociologist Robert Bellah and his colleagues have written in Habits of the Heart that there are at least four strands of language imbedded in our history – two strands of individualism (utilitarian and expressive) and two strands of community (civic republicanism and Biblical religion).  Listen, as they did, to the language we tend to use in our daily lives – it is the language of individualism (which is not necessarily a bad thing) – where, however, is the language of civic virtue, embodied in the lives of citizens like Washington and Lincoln and Addams and Roosevelt and Eisenhower and Reagan and Carter?  Where is the language of covenant and stewardship that offers us a sense of connection to a greater good, to common purpose?  These so-called “second languages” are there as well in our history, but impoverished and ignored because we have forgotten from whence we come.

Civic literacy is such a natural aspect of a liberal arts education – our concern for expansive thinking and reflection and imagination must be grounded in a return to core and source texts, to the study of history and literature, to a commitment to the life of the rhetor, who lifts up the words that can responsibly persuade and inspire us in the work of citizenship.

The second aspect of a civic education is to nurture and sustain the work of civic engagement – the practices of citizenship, negotiating our lives together, navigating what John Courtney Murray once called the “intersection of conspiracies,” his definition of democracy.

I am so proud of our community for its abiding commitment to civic engagement – there are abundant examples of ways in which students, staff, faculty, trustees, parents, and alumni are modeling for all of us and the rest of the community what it means to be a reflective, productive and responsible citizen.  At the same time, I think we need to think at an even deeper level about the work of civic engagement, to see it not simply as acts of service and compassion, but also as the abiding and messy business of building communities of trust and accountability.

Two examples:

Civic engagement is something we need to learn to do right here on our campus.  I once heard another college leader talk about his campus as a group of neighborhoods, and he suggested that the work of citizenship meant that the neighborhoods needed to learn to be healthy, vital places for their inhabitants both as separate neighborhoods and as a collection of neighborhoods that had common needs and aspirations.

Think of what this means for our campus – we have an arts neighborhood, we have an athletics neighborhood, we have a nursing neighborhood and a philosophy neighborhood, and so on – groups of citizens who band together by virtue of activities or proximity.  I find these neighborhoods wonderful places to visit – I find in them examples of good citizenship and education, as well as idiosyncrasies and rituals and dysfunctions that make them distinctive (and perhaps not for everybody).  At the same time, when these neighborhoods do not interact with each other, or share what they have learned with others, or invite others in, they become exclusionary and disruptive of our efforts to build a genuine community of trust and accountability.  Our challenge as citizens (and mine as your mayor!) is to find ways to link the neighborhoods, holding on to all the good they do for themselves, while also building a sense of common purpose for our lives as a city or community.  That is the wonderful work of civic engagement – right here on our own campus.

Beyond our campus, I also believe that the work of civic engagement requires a more thoughtful and nuanced approach.  One of the issues we face as a college (as does any college with our sorts of commitments) is being drawn into relationships and projects that may distract us from the essential link between the liberal and civic arts.  We are a college, not a social services agency.  We are Rockford College, not Hull-House.  That said, it seems to me that the work of civic engagement that we pursue as a college needs to be linked to our primary mission as an educational institution.  How can we pursue Jane Addams’ remarkable vision of the essential link between education and a stronger democracy?

Several years ago I learned about the work of a man named Earl Shorris, who founded the Clemente Project in the Humanities.  Shorris believes in the deep connection between the humanities and politics.  His project recruits primarily young woman – often single mothers, living in poverty – and offers them an education in the humanities, taught by college instructors.  His argument is that “training” programs often perpetuate the subservient position of those in poverty.  Instead, he believes that offering the humanities to those in poverty offers them the “riches” of a life of citizenship.  It offers them the political power of an education.

Each of us has the privilege to be here at this college, working, living and exploring the riches of a liberal arts education.  The work of civic engagement demands that we find ways to offer our fellow citizens those same riches and the power of citizenship that goes with them.  That is how the liberal and civic arts are genuinely linked in our work as a college.  That is the work of engaged citizens – sharing what we have to build a stronger democracy.

The final category of a civic education is the aspiration for and progress toward genuine civic prosperity or wealth – now, I am a theologian by education, so allow me a few thoughts of the eschaton, of a world that we may only glimpse, of hope in things unseen, of a kingdom in which we must believe.  Those thoughts, those glimpses, that hope, that faith are enough to imagine the dynamics of a healthy society, the possibility of abundance, the prospect of a good life and a good society.

As a college, we must have these aspirations for our students, for ourselves, and for our democracy – otherwise, we can be as literate and engaged as we can muster and yet have no vision of what it means to live genuinely wealthy, prosperous and meaningful lives together.

I have now lived in this fine community for eighteen months and I must admit that the work of civic prosperity often seems like an uphill struggle.  How many times have I (as the relative newcomer) needed to defend the many opportunities available to those of us who live in this community?

As I think many of you know, I have set a course for the college’s involvement in the wider community that is expansive and constructive.  I believe that the work of civic prosperity is worth a significant investment of college resources, because if our community is stronger, then the college also is stronger.  I don’t believe, though, that civic prosperity is something you “buy,” it is something you imagine as possible, you develop common purpose, and then work to make a reality.

Tomorrow morning, we will take a major step in illustrating how our college can be a partner in the work of civic prosperity when the Rockford College Music Academy opens its new academic year by offering its weekend programs at Emmanuel Lutheran Church.  More than 600 young people and their families will descend on a neighborhood that has gotten a bad rap in recent years and will occupy a remarkable facility built for another era, and the sound of music and children’s voices will fill the space.  Our collaboration with Emmanuel Lutheran Church is the work of abundance – together we both benefit, as does the wider community.  Through such collaborations and partnerships, we participate in the creation of civic wealth – the highest calling of our citizenry and the mature work of citizenship in our republic.

Perhaps it is fitting, in conclusion, to remember that it was forty years ago that Martin Luther King Jr. stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and called us all to the work of citizenship - of civic education – educating for civic literacy and engagement and wealth.   “Who can stand on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, in the shadow of the mighty columns, beneath the inscripted “With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right…” where King spoke and Anderson sang – and not hear the call?”

Ours is a college that has long heard that call.  Today we rededicate ourselves to our saga as a college that knows there is an inextricable link between the liberal arts and civic arts, a college that celebrates that link in our vision to be Jane Addams’ college in the 21st century, and a college that recognizes that we must never take for granted the essential work of education for citizenship.  Our democracy needs us.

PRACTICE THIS

Focus  

I continue to find the role of technology in my personal and professional life to be a source of important questions about values and priorities.  Institutionally, a lack of reflection on the role of technology means that the distractions and costs of technology –inevitable as they are – tend to drive our lives, rather than offering us a tool for our mission and vision-guided work.

Albert Borgmann, professor of philosophy at the University of Montana and author of numerous books on the role of technology in our lives, offers an intriguing framework for personal and institutional reflection on where technology fits in our lives.  In a recent interview (Christian Century, 8/23/03), Borgmann offers a summary of his position:

  • Technology, Borgmann says, is not simply a tool.  Such a conclusion flies in the face of the reality of our behavior.  Technology induces us to spend our time in particular ways – watching television, surfing the net, etc. – and that is a reflection of technology’s power to shape human behavior.
  • We often experience life as a series of burdens to be overcome.  Technology often provides an easy solution to those burdens.  If we could find alternative ways to get beyond the threshold of effort we feel in life’s burdens (for example, overcoming the burden of letter-writing is tough when it is easy to plop in front of the television – but when we get beyond the threshold of effort required, the rewards can be great).
  • Borgmann sees technology not as the principal problem of our lives, but as a principal condition, and he concludes that we are not taking responsibility for the condition.
  • As the technology age evolved, technology was most often beneficial, remedying miseries like illness and hunger.  Gradually, though (and imperceptibly), it moved to colonize the center of our lives.  Technology now is deeply rooted in our economic lives.  It is a distinctive (and stratifying) aspect of human culture – some have and others do not.  It is often protected by our commitments to a liberal democratic individualism – each individual gets to choose a good life and the common enterprise of exploring where technology fits in our lives is nobody else’s business.
  • Borgmann calls for creating positive conditions in which technology becomes less compelling and different types of engagements thrive and flourish.
  • He calls for us to reengage with what he calls “focal things and practices,” by which he means something that has a commanding presence, engaging our body and mind, and connecting us with others.  Focal things center our lives and then arrange other things around the center in an orderly way, helping us to see what is important and what is not.  A focal practice results from committed engagement with the focal thing.
  • Examples: the guitar is a focal thing and as I play it (the focal practice), it engages me with the larger traditions of music and the community of musicians.  The meal is a focal thing and its preparation a focal practice.  Preparing and sharing a meal together constitutes a focal practice that has the power to reorient the life of a family or community.
  • So how do we make these focal things and practices work in our families, communities, and organizations?  Three ideas to consider:  (1) We must love the focal things we embrace and be confident of the good things they make possible in our lives – the leader helps others pay attention to the most important things in our lives and then encourages practices around those focal things.  If you love it, others will learn to love it. (2) We must convince others and ourselves that the high threshold of effort required by focal things is high morally and not materially – and that the effort is worth the reward.  Technology’s low threshold of effort yields low rewards.  Preparing a fine meal leads to glad hearts.  (3) We must want to share the power of focal things and practices with the wider culture.  It is not enough to encourage this sort of focus and recentering of our lives just for our family or community or organization.  We must work to create a world that values focal things and practices.  This is the work of faith and hope.

Borgmann’s ideas themselves require a high threshold of effort to grasp and translate for our lives – we all know how tempting it is to succumb to the cheap grace of easy solutions.  The rewards of such efforts, however, may put us on the path to a good life.

Leadership legitimacy

Rollins College president, Rita Bornstein, has done fascinating research on the importance of leadership legitimacy for college presidents – along with the obstacles to such legitimacy.  I find her work extremely helpful in my own efforts to lead our college, and I think her findings are insightful for all of us in leadership roles.

Based on considerable interviewing of institutional leaders, Rollins has developed a construct of five factors influencing leadership legitimacy:

(1)    Individual legitimacy – the credentials and experiences we bring to a position that lead various constituencies to consider us legitimate leaders – for example, a college president with strong academic credentials may have an easier time developing credibility with faculty members than a president who comes from a less traditional background.

(2)    Institutional legitimacy – the culture and patterns of governance of an institution will determine whether a particular leader is considered legitimate or not – after a honeymoon period, respect for and fit with an institution’s culture will be crucial for long term success

(3)    Environmental legitimacy – the external issues that can have an impact on legitimate leadership – for example, the economy, socio-political issues, enrollment demographics and so forth may be beyond a president’s control, but his/her responses to those issues will have an impact on his/her legitimacy

(4)    Technical legitimacy – the expertise and management effectiveness of a leader – for example, proclaiming a vision without the experience or wherewithal to make it real may undermine your credibility as a leader

(5)    Moral legitimacy – the integrity, honesty and moral character of a leader – examples abound of presidents whose decisions about personal spending, exceptions to institutional policies, and so forth are seen as moral failings

 Rollins then outlines the mistakes leader can make that are threats to legitimacy:

(1)   A lack of cultural fit – a failure to understand and embrace an institution’s  culture

(2)   Management incompetence – embarking on initiatives without the experience or skill to make it happen

(3)   Misconduct – moral and legal missteps

(4)   Erosion of social capital – behaving in ways that “use up your chips,” too much change, too many end-runs around the governance system, and so forth

(5)    Inattentiveness – it is easy to be distracted by outside interests

(6)    Grandiosity – the imperial leader, forgetting to consult and involve others.

I keep Rollins’ findings firmly in mind as I navigate the ambiguous and messy world of college leadership.  Any other ideas out there about leadership legitimacy?

PAY ATTENTION TO THIS  

Resources for your reflective practice

A friend recommended that I take a look at The Week, subtitled “All You Need to Know about Everything that Matters.”  It is a newsweekly that gathers its summary of news from other publications.  It is smart and engaging.  For more information, visit www.theweekmagazine.com.

Along a similar line, though more focused on arts and letters, check out “Arts and Letters Daily” at www.aldaily.com, compiled by the Chronicle of Higher Education.

For those of you with special interest in new media (the web, etc.) as it relates to nonprofit organizations, one of the gurus of the field is Michael Stoner, who now has a web log (“blog”) at www.mstonerblog.com.  He keeps a good eye on trends and issues.

Life goals

This little poem by David Budhill speaks to me and to the dynamic – or, should I say tension – that exists for those of us attempting to navigate our lives between the individual and the common.

The Three Goals

The first goal is to see the thing itself

in and for itself, to see it simply and clearly

for what it is.

            No symbolism, please.

 

The second goal is to see each individual thing

as unified, as one, with all the other

ten thousand things.

            In this regard, a little wine helps a lot.

 

The third goal is to grasp the first and second goals,

to see the universal and the particular,

simultaneously.

            Regarding this one, call me when you get it.

 

Subscription information

Subscriptions to Notes are simple to establish.  Send me an email at president@rockford.edu, ask to be added to the list, and you will receive a confirmation from the mail server at Wabash College that you are on the list.  Please feel free to forward your email versions of Notes to others—they then can subscribe by contacting me.  The current and archive issues of Notes are available on-line at www.jgacounsel.com.

Topics for the next issue (December 2003)

  • A reflection on the season(s)

  • Management innovation

  • Philanthropic autobiography

 (c) Paul Pribbenow, 2003