Drawing from your formal education, how do you use your discipline(s) not only in your own advising but also in collaboration with colleagues from other disciplines in their work as advisers?

Editor's Note: This article was selected as an honorable mention in the Mentor's fifth annual Academic Advising Writing Competition.

Feminism and JAVA Programming: More Alike than You Think!

After twenty straight years of education, culminating in a graduate degree in higher education, I found myself a new professional and, frankly, bored. What to do without a paper to write on the weekend? How sad to have a September without a textbook list to shop for! What else was there to do, but try my husband's patience and go back to school again? I soon found myself embarking on a personal journey through seven years of a part-time graduate school “hobby,” culminating in a master's degree in women's studies, a wonderfully eclectic course of study where one semester may find you exploring body image and South American free trade in the same course. Who knew that the lessons learned would wind up being the mainstay of my advisement career in a 90% male population major comprised of logically oriented computer science majors and a cast of colleagues at a conservative, technological institution? Had I known, I would have justified my tuition remission better than I did! As it turns out, the foundation of women's studies can withstand the weight of advisement and collegial relations upon it.

Lesson One: We all need a little empowerment.

The origins of the first women's movement from a historical perspective was fueled by the desire to improve the condition and status of women and was the first formal call for equal voting rights. This would not be granted for another seventy years, not unlike things in higher education that are put to committee. The desire for representation under the law and equal rights within the experience of everyday life, such as the opportunity for education and the ability to own land, were bold demands. The lessons learned from this first women's movement are vitally applicable to both our students' experiences and the daily life of colleagues in a higher education environment.

No one will empower you voluntarily, you must seize the reins yourself. From assisting first-year students in how to approach a faculty member to helping graduating seniors negotiate their starting salaries, the concept of empowerment emerges over and over throughout my interactions as an adviser. For some students, the concept of speaking up and claiming what should be rightfully theirs is foreign. In the discipline of computer science where I am housed, the hindrance of that empowerment comes from voicelessness: not the absence of credibility as in the first women's movement, but rather the inability to communicate what should be said. For a group of largely introverted, sometimes socially inept students who prefer the virtual to the reality, how to say something is just as challenging as what to say. For colleagues, the ability to change the status quo, the red tape of a state university in relation to promotions and tenure, and the tightening budgetary constraints with higher expectations to produce more are all disempowering. What lesson can be had here from the course of women's history? Nothing will be given if it is not demanded, repeatedly, with passion and clarity of reason. Be angry when you aren't listened to or are unjustly denied. Yesterday I spoke with a senior about his law school application essays and to a secretary about her desire for a promotion. Both of my messages were the same: value yourself, communicate that value, and demand that value be awarded. Score one for the women's movement!

Lesson Two: Radical is not a four-letter word.

My uncle had a field day when I said I was starting graduate work in women's studies. I became affectionately known as his radical-lesbian-nazi-feminist-tree-hugging-liberal niece. Quite a mouthful when introducing me to others! In the course of my studies in feminist literature, some written by authors who vehemently denied the label, I learned that women's studies, feminism, the womanist movement, being woman-identified, and a host of other terms were not, in fact, interchangeable and connote very different meanings to the users of each term. Oh, for the good old days when SAT words had but one commonly accepted definition! But a generic term stuck to all of these women's studies labels is radical, and with that one word, a negative aura surrounds an otherwise positive and affirming belief.

And don't we do that in education? We label theories as radical if they aren't mainstream enough. We stick with status quo operations and “the catalog says so” responses because they are easy. At my predominantly engineering-focused institution, to be a computer science or management major is radical and puts you, respectively, in the “geek track” or on the “M-train” easy track. I've heard so many first-year students at general orientation sessions resist a radical label by saying “I'm a CS major, but I'm not a nerd.” Isn't the purpose of education to explore new things, to come to informed decisions? We could take a lesson, yet again, from the discipline of women's studies.

A woman's right to vote was a radical concept. The idea that fat women might love their bodies as they are, without the desire to conform to a skinny standard, is radical. Laws prohibiting domestic violence continue to be radical. What is forgotten is that “radical” often is the precursor to positive change. And if that means going against a popular grain, so be it. In my advising career, I try to assist students and my colleagues to not be afraid to be radical. Challenge a grade, a theory, a “we've always done it this way” argument. Change the curriculum with the times. Acknowledge that you might be better suited or happier in another major or at a less-demanding institution; be comfortable in your own body and mind. The ten-percent female population in my college understand “radical” in selecting a nontraditional major. Several years ago I challenged status quo departmental advising by hosting the first-ever meeting of all university academic advisers to discuss common concerns, and out of that came a monthly committee and a common advising model. Much to my supervisor's chagrin, I risk sounding like a two-year-old every day by repeatedly asking why. I encourage my students and colleagues to do the same, and release the fear of being labeled “radical.”

Lesson Three: Data and information are incredibly important.

One of the joys of a women's studies classroom is the diversity of the students in the class. In several of my classes, a practicing Wiccan shared her beliefs and views on a host of topics. If you have never met a witch, as I never had, this was a most unusual experience. My knowledge of witches included only the Wizard of Oz, Halloween characters, and (being a northerner) the city of Salem, Massachusetts: not an adequate representation of this young woman at all.

Much of the discussion of women's experiences have been based on legend, myth, and limited information. Agencies like the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation and the Feminist Women's Health Center exist to put focus on underresearched areas of health and disease and to disseminate truth to replace dangerous myths that during history have led to unnecessary sterilizations, mastectomies, and a host of other injustices on a woman's body. Important studies on the physical capabilities of women have led to everything from Title IX to women in the military. Economic studies on female-headed households have led to welfare reform and workplace flextime opportunities. Not only must the research be done and communicated, it must be analyzed with critical attention to the skew and/or motivation of the researchers. Without unbiased research and widespread communication on these issues, the condition of women in the world would be different.

Such is that of the student condition and our ability as staff to affect necessary change. Assessment is not just a buzzword, yet so little is done outside of reaccreditation years. And with technology so accessible to even the technically challenged, data are right at our fingertips. In my department, we began the school year with a survey of all first-year and second-year students. Data covered everything from expectations to fears, grades to careers, and to a write-in definition of the “ideal adviser.” Already this year, that data has been put to use in three new initiatives for student services within our department. Periodic program satisfaction surveys and semesterly town-hall meetings are also common here. Pooling data among departments and sharing surveys and resources for administration are key to learning who our student body is and what unique features, like those of my friend the Wiccan, we might be discover and learn from.

The Last Word