Teamwork

I live in a quaint community deemed Delightful Dunedin. Visitors from all around claim that it is the model city of the south. From the brick paved roads of the old neighborhoods to the magnificent views from America’s 2008 best beach, Caladesi Island, it is as if I live in paradise. Residents in Dunedin are friendly, the community center is constantly buzzing, and the teamwork that is fostered in this town allows residents to truly be involved in shaping the community.

This teamwork was particularly evident in the wake of the oil disaster that affected Florida coasts this summer. Fortunately, Dunedin has been lucky so far and has evaded an oily shoreline, but in fear of what may soon happen, Dunedin residents have banned together to save what they can of their unique beach community. My friends in the area immediately volunteered to help gather debris on the beaches to lessen the amount of hazardous waste, families joined hands on Honeymoon Island in support of our beaches, and restaurant goers frequented fish eateries whose owners feared they would lose their businesses.

This teamwork comes from a bond Dunedin residents share – a love of Florida beaches. It will be our job as CAs this year to foster teamwork with the RAs and with our residents. It is my hope that we will all be able to take from each RA’s and resident’s past experiences and build bonds between them and foster involvement and a special pride for each community we serve.

Quick mind jog

I am procrastinating on my dissertation now. So I have questions for you:

1) How do you describe your CA role to your friends?
2) How do you describe your CA role to your family?
3) How do you describe your CA role in the professional world?
4) How do you describe your CA role to your professors?
5) How do you describe your CA role to your residents?
6) How do you describe your CA role to your RAs?


Think about why there may be differences in the way that you talk about your CA role. How do those differences inform and impact that way that you assess and engage in role?

Transitions!

Before I get into the “meat and potatoes” of this blog post, I want to briefly introduce myself. My name is Bryan, and I am going to be the new housefellow for Resnik and West Wing. Lucas suggested reading through the CA Blog as a way to get acquainted with the other housefellows and CAs. I have really enjoyed all of the conversations and insights! This is a team that I am excited to join!


Transition is something that I have been thinking about a lot lately. In the past 3 weeks, I have resigned from an old job, started a new job, moved from rural central Pennsylvania to Oakland, and begun living apart from my partner (whom I have been living with for the past 7 years). It has been a very up-and-down few weeks. The excitement of new opportunities at CMU and in Pittsburgh has been tempered with the anxiety that goes along with opening up a new chapter in my career and personal life.


In a roundabout way, thinking about my current transition has helped me to reflect on our students and the important transitions that they experience while living on-campus. In many ways the business of higher education is all about transition. Each semester sees new students arriving on campus while others depart. During their time with us students choose majors, study abroad, take on leadership opportunities (like being a CA!) and learn more about who it is that they are, and who they hope to become. We are constantly surrounded by transition.

As you think about the CA role, how do you see yourself being a resource to your residents as they experience the many transitions that are a part of the college experience? Schlossberg (1995) defines transition as “any event, or non-event, that results in changed relationships, routines, assumptions, and roles.” By that definition, transitions are happening all of the time! Schlossberg identified four major sets of factors that influence how well a person can cope with transition (Evans, Forney, & Guido-DeBrito, 1998). Let’s identify those factors, and reflect on how we can help our residents.


Situation: Important factors include the timing of the situation, the duration of the transition, and previous experiences with similar transitions. During a transition, individuals will also be dealing with concurrent stresses and questions about whether or not they feel in control during the changes. Working in the residence halls and apartments, we may have some real insight that our residents would benefit from. We also live within the situation . . . and as an outsider we may have some unique perspective on the situation.


Self: During transition, we think about who we are in terms of demographic characteristics (socioeconomic status, gender, etc.) and psychological resources. How has our background prepared us to manage this transition? As CAs, we can play a role in helping students to know more about who they are through programming, conversation, and our relationships with each other.


Support: To manage a transition, individuals need to feel a sense of support. A supportive community is one of my favorite aspects of residence hall and apartment living. What can we do as CAs to make sure that everyone in our community feels that they will receive affirmation, assistance, and positive feedback when they need it?


Strategies: To manage transition, you need a plan in order to proceed. When we talk to our residents about their transitions (or when they come to use for mentoring and guidance), how can we help them to move forward in productive ways, while leaving it up to the student to decide how best to move forward?


I hope that this blog post is some “food for thought” as you prepare to return to campus. I know that meeting everyone for CA Training is part of my transition that I am very much looking forward to!



References:

Evans, N. J., Forney, D. S., & Guido-DiBrito, F. (1998). Schlossberg's transition thoery. In Student development in college: Theory, research, and practice (pp. 107-122). San Fransisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.



Schlossberg, N.K., Waters, E.B., & Goodman, J. (1995). Counseling adults in transition (2nd ed.). New York: Springer.

Life-Long Learning

A while ago, someone wrote (and I'm sorry I'm a bit too lazy to look it up right now), that their mission this year was to explore parts of Pittsburgh unseen. To "jog somewhere besides the Cathedral of Learning."

Well, Sunday, a friend and I set out to do just that. We went to Edgewood and Frick Park. And, the Frick Museum. Now, I'm going to steal a bit from my own blog about the experience:

...we headed to the Frick Museum with pretty low expectations. Maybe it was because I'd only ever heard it called the "Carriage and Automobile Museum."

Thanks to an iPhone, we made it to the correct spot, and walked into a giant, stone... museum. The Frick really can't be explained any other way.

We were immediately greeted and talked through the grounds. The Frick has an art museum (which we were in), a car and carriage museum, a giftshop that used to be the Frick's playhouse, a greenhouse, and "Clayton" (the mansion of Henry Clay Frick).

Here's a mini history lesson: Frick saw that baked coal made coke, useful for steel. Carnegie saw the Frick had a lot of these coal-baking ovens. They became partners. Sometime later there were riots. Carnegie went back home to Scotland. Frick had to deal with it and used violent measures. Frick then hated Carnegie; Carnegie then hates Frick. Carnegie won't let Frick into his gentlemen's club. Frick builds his own building with a club on the 20th floor (it's called the Frick Building, on Grant between Forbes and Fifth... It's where I'm working this summer!) They get old. Carnegie writes to Frick: I'm sorry, we're old, let's forget about this. Frick writes back: I'll see you in hell. The end.

So, learned a little something? I only learned part of that during our tour of Clayton (just the coal-to-coke business). The rest my mentor told me at Carnegie Learning, where my internship is this summer.

Well, during our four-hour stay on the grounds of the Frick, I learned more little tidbits that I knew what to do with. The evolution of the word "sublime" (from "fearsome" to "awe-inspiring" to "awesome")? Check. The fact that Victorians would never take naps in their beds? Check. Franklin Roosevelt and Eleanor Roosevelt were cousins, and pronounced their last names differently (Rooo-sevelt and Rose-evelt)? Check. The first drive-in gas station? On Baum Boulevard (in Pittsburgh). The bicycle being a big break for woman's independence? Check.

Every single person we encountered that day wanted to share something. They treasured their job, the history, and the stories. Even the two tour guides were swapping tales after the tour was finished.

Now I get to talk about that cliche, "life-long learning." I mean, even the theory of evolution will tell you that if we stop, we die. I'm reading a book called "The Red Queen: Sex and the Evolution of Human Nature." Even those of you who dislike or don't believe in the idea of evolution can understand the metaphor of the Red Queen in "Alice in Wonderland." She must keep running just to keep up with the world; if she slows down, she falls behind.

As it is with learning. We've all met those people who have decided to get off the treadmill. Some refuse to get off. (My grandpa bought himself an Android for Christmas. While he doesn't know his own phone number, he can chose a place for dinner lickety-split.)

So the Frick Museum was a success. But that was Sunday! It's Tuesday now.

Today I volunteered to tend a gallery at the Mattress Factory, an installation art museum and catalyst for artists like Mark Garry (who was talking). While the tending of the gallery was a bit dull (only three people visited my floor), the whole event was smoothly run: an enjoyable evening, even for us volunteers.

Places like that just make me savor Pittsburgh all the more. Yes, rain is predicted this whole week. Yes, the humidity is a bit hit, as is the temperature. But, yes, Pittsburgh knows its art and history!

Helps a lot while I'm jogging along on that treadmill of learning.

Part I - Mistakes

Not that I have ever made one, but I have been thinking about mistakes recently. Last week I watched a Nova episode about the deadliest plane crash in history NOVA episode .

The program intrigued me for two reasons. First, it confirmed that I hate flying because of a lack of control over what happens once I board the plane. On the other hand, I love everything else about flying (delays, gate changes, lines, etc. Not even kidding). The second idea was about making mistakes. The crash was caused by multiple circumstances, mostly out of control of any one decision makers. However, in the end there was fault and individual mistakes. In my mind I was thinking about you can so casually make a decision that so impacts the lives of other people and how would you ever rectify a mistake that has such dire outcomes. Of course, there is a continuum of mistakes based on consequences, but if life is about making and learning from mistakes, shouldn't there be a way to say your sorry?

On the idea of making and learning from mistakes, Holly & I would like to give you a 2 part assignment. For now, simply share a recent mistake you have made (please only do so in your comfort zone). Let us know the decision, why you made it, why it was a mistake and who was effected. Later in the week we will pose some follow up thoughts. In advance, thank you for sharing.

"To Believe in the Perfectibility of Man"

So clearly, this is going to be an amazing CA training. Everyone has been so thoughtful in posting and commenting that I, for one, cannot wait to have the full think tank together in a few short weeks!

Today, my post is a bit of a stream of consciousness... I have been doing a lot of thinking/reading/writing about the greatest author of all time, John Steinbeck (yes, I am literarily myopic). In one of his few published interviews, he talked about how all of his writing, his ideas come from the "belief in the perfectibility of man": a pretty edgy idea if you ask me.

So here's the rub: believing in the perfectibility of man insists that in our minds somewhere, we hold on to the notion that we have an image or concept of ourselves that is ideal. Wouldn't this concept lead us to strive towards the impossible? Are we not setting ourselves up for failure in the midst of such a striving?

Without polish or revision, I submit this: that the *belief* in one's perfectibility is the stuff of great leadership-- however you define it. Inherent in this belief is the opportunity to make mistakes, to rise up, to be better, to unveil your capaciousness, to journey with purpose, to fumble happily. In short, the belief in perfectibility is a kind of proclamation of the human struggle. Its the germ of optimism, fighting its way out from self-doubt, road block, imagined deficits...

I think believing in one's ability to rise to your own "ideal" however, you define it, again, is inspiring. It's kind of like knowing inherently, that you will always have space to grow. As a leader for your teams, instilling that belief in them, helping an RA shape that concept in the image of their own design is incredibly empowering, and blows the lid off of what they think they can and cannot do.

One caveat that must be posed here: striving-this concept never sits well with me, and I'm not sure it can be divorced from Steinbeck's refrain. When we strive, we look beyond the here and now, beyond who we are and what we have. While some of that is productive and energizing, it bears the inherent risk of feeling dissatisfied with the present. So, can we strive without judging?? What do you think?

Being a CA means a lot of things, and its inflections come from your unique passions and perspectives. But at the end of the day, it means that you have the phenomenal role of believing that your best self, and the best selves of your team can find an articulation through this collective work. How will you create this space? What are the conversations, tone, people, experiences that you want to bring to your team to support their capaciousness? When does this get lost in our work and how do we reconnect with it? How do you process the fumbles and stumbles that will inevitably happen so they become a part of the journey?

At the end of the day, we will never be perfect. And seriously-- who wants to be?? But, we *can* be more than we thought was possible, and with that-- from that-- we may get closer to our purest selves; kind, giving, thoughtful, resilient, focused, clear and visionary.

In this belief--in our collective belief-- we just might change the world as we know it.

Here's to thinking big, making things happen, stumbling along the way, and having a good laugh all along the way....

in razzyfresh love,
Helen

Back to Basics

Everyone was already in place. I could see them lined up through the full-length glass panes as I approached the door. Feet spaced shoulder-width apart and eyes to the front. The clock above the entrance to Absolute Ballroom read “6:40”. I was ten minutes late. The Indian music began to play. I quickly slipped off my shoes and navigated through the rows of people to a free space in the middle. The instructor, with knees and elbows bent, switched from heel to heel, moving her arms in tandem with the bass drum. “This is ‘basic’,” she said. The pace of the music picked up. She began leading us four steps to the right, four steps to the left, all while keeping up the her heel changes and arm sways. “Watch me,” she reminded us. She brought us back to the center, to continue the “basic” motions. She raised her arms and swayed them as she began to scoot forward pushing her hips out to the side with each step. Her movements slowed as the song ended. People walked quickly to and from the water fountain and the instructor walked over to me. “Hello, I don’t think we’ve met. This is your first time at the Bhangra class?” I answered ‘yes’ and explained that I had found out about the class from a friend. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” she said through a wide smile. She turned to the class. “Alright. Is everyone watered and ready to go?” A faster song began to play. “Now it’s going to get complicated. Watch carefully.” Following the quickening drumbeat, she sprung up from the wooden floor, her knees fully tucked under. She turned to the side and went up again. As the drumbeat became more frequent she began saving time by twisting her body in the air in order to switch the side she was facing. “Come on! Get those knees up!” She looked toward the center of the room. “Rachel, get those knees up!”

By the end of the one-hour Bhangra session my ponytail was stuck to the back of my neck as if I had just gotten caught in a flash-Pittsburgh-rainstorm. I headed to the restroom to dry my face off. As I took care of my raccoon eyes, I realized I couldn’t stop smiling. The hour of Bhangra, though it was originally meant to be my workout for the day, did not feel like one. Many times during the hour it had felt as if I was back to being my uncoordinated 5-year-old self attempting to pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time. Many times during the hour I had looked up to see women and men, some three times my age, keeping up with every hip swing and heel touch. Many times I had to stop and restart my motions after realizing I was off beat. Somehow the fact that I was not an expert at Bhangra dancing made me feel elated.

During our time at CMU we are taught to be experts in our fields of study. We spend long hours in labs, studios and lecture halls honing our knowledge. Once we have passed the threshold of being a novice, adding to our acquired knowledge base often becomes easy and even comfortable. It is that first step of building a strong foundation that can sometimes be the most difficult.

Come August 3^rd, we will be asked to be novices. Even those who have been through many a CA/RA training will be asked to discover something new and remember what it is like to not be the expert. This will be difficult for many of us. Especially considering that an expert is exactly what Carnegie Mellon has trained us to be. We must enter the situation humbly. As if it’s our first time learning a new dance.