Because I was a finalist last year, I was asked today if I would give my permission to be considered for Plymouth State's 2012 Distinguished Faculty Service Award. I refused. I don't regret my decision, but I want to write a bit about it as a way of sorting out my feelings...and it aroused some feelings.

The reason I gave for my refusal was that I have already been a finalist twice -- better to make more room for someone who was nominated by their colleagues this year. I believe that. In fact, I nominated a very hard-working and selfless colleague for the award this year and I would love to see her win. Too, part of me thinks the award will have more impact on the rest of the faculty if they can connect it to efforts that are still fresh in their mind. In fact, if I was to pull on that thread a little I might even say that the award should be mostly given to new-ish faculty as a way of inspiring new faculty to get involved in governance and University service.

But beneath that lurks some more complicated reasons -- and maybe even some resentment of the faculty as a whole. The only way I would have pursued the award again would have been so I could publicly refuse it. Before I explain why I would do that, let me explain why it's not an option. Most importantly (to me), I would not want to diminish the fine colleagues (many of whom are my close friends) who have won the award in the past. Their service HAS been distinguished -- in fact, much of what is both functional and principled in our governance system at PSU can be traced directly to these same colleagues. I would never want to suggest that I don't value their accomplishments, their dedication, and the massive time-commitment they invested in service generally and in governance in particular.

On a more practical note, though, it would be impossible to pull off such a protest. The winner is notified in the early summer. A lovely blurb is written about them and their portrait is taken for a spread in a glossy brochure that shows all of the distinguished teachers, scholars, Operating Staff, and PATs. It is distributed with much fanfare at the beginning of the following school-year and at every event thereafter. They would never allow a protest to interfere with the larger marketing effort. But right before the brochure is unveiled at Faculty Day, the Service and Scholarship winners are announced to the gathered faculty and given a gift bag and a framed certificate. They are not allowed to address the crowd. In short, in order to publicly refuse the award, one must first accept the award, be photographed for the brochure, be blurbed, be gift-bagged and certificated. Then you must either seize the microphone from the Provost, or shout your refusal from the cheap seats. I had something else in mind.

I would have refused the award on the grounds that service -- distinguished or otherwise -- is not really valued at PSU. Teaching and scholarship ARE valued (as they should be), but the Service Award means something only to a small minority of the faculty and administration. In fact, the vast majority of the faculty--if they think of it at all--probably consider the Service Award a sucker's prize.

I say so for several reasons. First, we all see the depressing turnout for Faculty Meeting and (even more depressing) for Faculty Forums. Our colleagues vote with their feet and in the hectic life of a university professor, most prefer to keep their feet in their office (or to take them home) in the late afternoons. Some keep their feet in a classroom...but even that is a choice since -- technically -- faculty are not supposed to teach for the 3:45-5 slot on the Mondays and Wednesdays when Faculty Meeting and Forums are held. Whether they choose to teach at that time, or they are scheduled by their Chair to teach at that time, it nevertheless signals that service is not a priority.

And that brings me to my second reason: many departments have decided to let others do service. A junior colleague from the S side of the College of A's and S's reported this Spring that her chair had told her not to worry about service. Get grants, she was told. "You can do service later." I'm not even sure I disagree with that idea -- the emphasis on scholarship at PSU is increasing and scholarship is not only good for the world of knowledge, it makes the University look good. It's hard to call up the alumni and drum up donations by telling them about the long hours the Gen Ed committee put into an assessment plan. Ch-ching. So it maybe it's understandable, but the fact is that many junior faculty are hearing the message that service is unimportant -- they hear it from the senior colleagues in their department, from their P&T committees, and from the vast majority of colleagues who neither attend nor take an interest in Faculty Meetings and governance.

Even so, what depresses me most are the colleagues who DO attend and take an interest in Faculty Meetings and governance. Last year we had to beg and cajole  faculty to volunteer to be "elected" Speaker Elect. Lots of people were nominated, none accepted. Not surprising since they all had front row seats last year while I, as Faculty Speaker, struggled with an immense load of communication, consultation, and consternation arising from the confluence of cost-cutting measures from the Board of Trustees and union organizing from a very vocal group of faculty. It wasn't fun and, unfortunately, I probably made it look every bit as burdensome as it was. The fact is, as the rest of our governance system has decayed, the Speaker has become one of the last faculty members who can get the ear of the administration AND the faculty. But doing so, while balancing the "more important" aspects of the job, is simply not possible for most faculty.

When, by May, we had still not found a willing nominee, we decided to address the number one concern EVERY nominee had cited in their refusal: work load. Not to seem self-serving (for me, or even for my successor), we proposed that future Speakers be given a three-credit course release for their term (preferably for the Fall semester), effective Fall 2012. The faculty voted it down.

Some of the reasons they cited were better than others. One former Speaker suggested that the Speaker's job was only for one year and that, if anything, we should consider giving course releases to committee members who were elected to three-year stints since theirs was the longer commitment. Another former Speaker claimed that the job was no worse than, and even easier than, chairing some committees. And several made the argument that if we loved teaching as much as they loved teaching we would never even consider a course release (to which I would have responded, don't consider running because -- without the course release -- your students will be the first to suffer...except that I couldn't argue that because the Speaker's job is to moderate, not to debate). And still others argued that it was the principle of the thing that would make them refuse. There were three branches here: A - Service should be freely given. If not, it's not service. It's like love: if you ask for help, Rush Limbaugh and some of our colleagues will call you a prostitute. B - We have no rationale for how we give course releases now, in fact we don't even know how they are negotiated since the number of course releases, the people who have them, and the conditions for those arrangements are either secret or unknown (which is worse?). And C, if our system of shared governance worked as it should, the Speaker would mostly make an agenda, ring the bell, and attend the catered meetings of the President. No big deal.

Those last two points made some sense to me. I think there are as many different standards for course releases as there are departments. Even worse, I think many who have course releases are not actually using them as they should be -- instead they teach a regular load (but with overload pay) and make time (as they can) for whatever work they were supposed to do in their release-time. And as for shared governance, if the administration was as concerned about faculty being invested in the major decisions of the institution as they should be...or if faculty at large were as willing to be the sort of informed and invested partners in governance as they should be...well, I wouldn't be writing this post. I'd be blasting pigs from the sky to slow-cook on my joy-fired solid-pearl BBQ pit. WITH a cup holder!

If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, the on-ramps to that highway are principles. The facts on the ground were these: the job is huge, the economic and restive conditions that made it tough last year are not going to get better in the foreseeable future, and NO ONE WANTS TO DO IT (we finally DID get a Speaker-Elect...in October). The world is not a principled place. The world is a real place where principled people walk into a crosswalk without looking because the law is on their side and all cars have to stop for them except that the driver of the cement truck who really does sympathize with their principles but still can't stop the truck because it's fully loaded with five tons of sloshing cement meant to pour the foundation for the new Student Indulgement Center and so, sadly, he smears them and their principles down the road. When it happens again, the faculty vote to send more faculty into the crosswalk without looking until cement trucks stop crushing them or we run out of faculty. Whichever comes first.

So in the end, if the faculty who care about service don't care enough about it to actively change it (or to run for the position they claim is so do-able), how much does a service award mean?

So now you see why I would have to publicly refuse the award. My principles will not allow me to do otherwise.