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Bright Club Norwich

Academic community, Higher education, , , , , , ,

Bright Club Norwich

As Project Director for the Beacon for Public Engagement based at UEA, I volunteered to do a comedy stand-up routine for Norwich Bright Club in 2011, along with Professor Tim Jickells, Dr Richard Grey and postgraduate researchers Alessia Freddo and Chris Roberts.

Staff and students were joined in the audience by Norwich and Norfolk civic members.  I especially recall the late Cllr Jenny Lay, Norwich Lord Mayor who, despite being hit on the head by the bouquet of flowers I threw into the audience, expressed her congratulations on my performance, saying, ‘I didn’t know you had it in you, Julie’.  I always admired Jenny’s warmth and compassion and was sad to hear of her passing last year.

Whilst the Bright Club experience proved to be more nerve-wracking than any job-interview or presentation, I was on a high for days afterwards. It was an amazing experience which I highly recommend.  View the routine on YouTube or read the script below.  My act starts 10 minutes in.  I hope it raises a smile.

The Big Idea

Is work making you miserable? Do you want to be happy?

Are you becoming restless, depressed, apathetic or cynical?

You academics out there…are you resenting your students, your colleagues, your institution even? The other day I found a great service called, ‘Escape the ivory tower’. You can use it to ‘examine your own unhappiness’. Coaching is offered that will let you ‘go deep’ and really explore whatever you’re struggling with.

Well, my research does pretty much the same thing. I’m going deep…real deep. I’m going down on 12 very lucky academics. You see, they need to be appreciated. They need to be loved, to feel valued. Yet, in these times when making money rules supreme, we seem to have lost our appreciation of the things that really matter. Such as happiness and pursuing the truth; the truth about things that mean absolutely nothing to the public at large…well, someone’s got to do it.

David Watson, the David Attenborough of higher education, has written a book on Managing Happiness and Unhappiness in University Life.   He talked to academics who said,

We don’t have enough money to do our jobs properly but we’re really good at them.

Can’t think what they mean, can you?

We clearly need to boost their morale. We need to make them happy. We need to help them feel connected, somehow engaged. Hmmm engaged…engaged…what makes people happy? Being engaged?

You know, lots of students get engaged at University so we could spread a little happiness and cash in on that. You know, I got engaged when I was at Bangor University? To a young man called Wilf. Didn’t marry him…he met a nice young lady called Alison whilst doing his PGCE. Am I bitter, 30 years on? Maybe…just a little bit…

Didn’t Kate and Wills meet at University?

Did you actually watch the Royal Wedding? What an adoring couple. How nice it is to see two gorgeous young people so much in love. Wasn’t the dress simply wonderful and oh what a stunner. I thought Kate looked fantastic too. Bit caked up maybe. Got to cover up those acne pock marks somehow I suppose.

It’s just been announced that the Palace of Westminster will be available for wedding receptions. Well, I’m not talking alternative wedding venue. I’m talking wedding concept, the total wedding package.

Never mind the big fat royal wedding. I have the big fat university wedding!

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the UEA Wedding Experience – a complete cradle to grave service. World class, carbon neutral, award winning.

For a fairytale experience, UEA’s your concrete castle full of Eastern promise. Explore our labyrinths and exotic subterranean streets.

Now I grant you, the venue may not be instantly appealing – more Gretna grey that Gretna Green. So, if you want a quickie, it’s Gretna Gray, destination UEA. A bit of bunting here and there, maybe draped around the scaffolding. Instead of cleaning the concrete, spay it with glitter!

But it’s not the venue that makes a classic wedding. It’s all the extras – and don’t we have extras at UEA!

Just think of the facilities. Shotgun weddings not a problem. We have a School of Nursing and Midwifery. All services are at hand.

I mean, all services…for you shy young virgins who lack confidence in the bedroom department we can set up special observation points around the campus so you can watch the rabbits. You’ll soon learn.

Our nursery can provide as many cute bridesmaids and page boys as you like, for an extra one-off payment to the parents. Rates negotiable.

For those vital pre-nuptial agreements, our School of Law can offer New Union Practical Treatments Including All Liaison Services – that is, NUPTIALS for short.

Speeches. A wedding is not a wedding without speeches. The School of Literature and Creative Writing! There’s a bunch of scribblers who could do with a bit of extra income. Say, 10p a word, 15p if it rhymes – 75p if it’s funny?

For speech writing, we can set up the Educational Institute for Engagement in Oratory – EIEIO.

Pointless having speeches without a receptive audience. So don’t worry if you’re a little short of guests. UEA can provide a guest list to die for. Any kind you like. Want a refined party with idle chit chat, sipping sherry and nodding sagely – we have pro-vice chancellors, deans, directors and so on. A more cultured lot you could not hope to meet. You want a merry throng, chattering and cheery – we have lecturers and researchers – always game for a laugh. You want a raucous bunch of rebel rousers with a couple of arguments and maybe a fistfight – we have pro-vice chancellors, deans, directors! Wait a minute, they’re in twice. Well, security and maintenance will have to do the sherry and chat.

All those wedding guests you have to invite but don’t actually want? We understand that sometimes it’s necessary to invite those relatives that you really have no desire to see. This is not a problem. We have the solution. We will give them a campus map, some emergency rations and tell them to find room 003.01.03. We guarantee that you’ll never see them…ever again.

It is not even a problem if have no family or friends. You can tack your wedding service onto one of our Congregation ceremonies, coming up soon with a special Star Trek theme this year. Dust off your Klingon outfit. You won’t look out of place. At UEA we really know how to dress up and you’ll be thrilled with the results. Have your photograph taken with our Vice Chancellor, he won’t mind, I’m sure.

Now, I did say ‘low carbon. I don’t mean horse and cart down the Mall – l mean proper low-carbon, environmentally sound weddings. Take the catering. You can have the icing but no cake – there’s a load more food miles in a fruit cake, you know. Think how virtuous you will feel knowing that you’re doing your bit to save the planet. Talking of saving the planet, our School of Environmental Sciences have stacks of shredded emails that would make fantastic confetti.

This could be a true Norwich Research Park Enterprise collaboration. The John Innes Centre can grow you GM flowers that will double up as the salad for the wedding breakfast. And if we’re really pushed, we could buy in some half decent catering from City College Norwich.

Forgotten to buy something for the lucky couple? Stumped for ideas?   The Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts! They’ve got some very pleasant tat that they can’t possibly want to keep. Anything from cute little Japanese ornaments to those all essential recycled shopping baskets. They could flog a few bits off and make a bit of cash.

So, don’t just think of that job satisfaction, all those boosted academic morals. Think also of the cash that we’ll raise. No longer will engagement be accused of not generating cash.

Prices range from £9,000 to £9,000. Because we’re worth it.

Who will be my first customer, then?

June 2011 - Julie does Bright Club

‘Busy in the world as well as in the mind’

Academic community, Higher education, Local government, , , , , , , , , ,

‘Busy in the world as well as in the mind’ The History Man reflections (2)

This is the second of two posts prompted by a reading of ‘The History Man’ by Malcolm Bradbury (1975).  I had intended in this post to compare a university that I know today with Bradbury’s fictional University of Watermouth.  There are, however, too many features that deserve comment for a blog and I have chosen to focus on just three; activist academics, catering for meetings, and the departmental meeting.  And I stray into local government territory – in my experience, higher education and local government rituals can be inter-changeable.

ACTIVIST ACADEMICS

‘Howard is a well-known activist, a thorn in the flesh of the council, a terror to the selfish bourgeoisie, a pressing agent in the Claimants’ Union, a focus of responsibility and concern… busy in the world as well as in the mind’  (The History Man, p3 & p68)

Probably the most well-known ‘activist’ academic in Norwich is the former MP, Ian Gibson, in office from 1997 to 2009.  I suspect in earlier days in the late ’70s, as a member of the Socialist Workers Party, he might have been seen with other university colleagues selling the Social Worker outside Norwich City Hall.  I certainly don’t recall Ian being a thorn in the flesh of the City Council during my fourteen years as an officer.  The Council, led by a strong Labour group, was often more bent on in-fighting; what else was there to do in the absence of a credible opposition? (It was no different in Sheffield in the mid-80s.)  Ian did make a great rousing speech at the Assembly Rooms in 1999 when we launched the Council’s Equality Charter, one of my last projects before leaving for a job in the voluntary sector in 2000.  Today, as a trustee of the Silver Road Community Centre, he is actively campaigning for the centre as a base for community learning.  Perhaps not a thorn in the flesh, but a useful bit of grit in the shoe.

At the City Council today you will find university lecturers, postgraduate researchers and students in the Council Chamber, sitting on the Green benches as elected Members, fifteen strong; now a more credible opposition to the twenty-one member Labour Group and the miserly three member Liberal Democrat contingency.  And active – in my final month as Community University Engagement Manager, I received a call from the one of those Green academics, asking if the university could find a way of helping to fund a charity which had just lost its City Council grant.  Not long after, I heard lecturer and Green Party Councillor, Rupert Read, interviewed on local radio as he protested against the building of the Norwich Northern Distributor Road.  So, like Howard, these academics are busy in the world as well as in the mind but I would say, much better placed to agitate for effective change.

CATERING FOR MEETINGS

‘Two ladies in blue overalls come in with cups of tea and a plate of biscuits and place cups in front of all the people present’  (The History Man, p155)

I arrived at the university in early 2005, towards the end of the tea-lady era.  A lady in grey overalls wheeled her tea-trolley around the Registry and the Council House, serving beverages and biscuits to the Vice-Chancellor and his Executive Team.  If you asked Val (I think that was her name) nicely, she would service your meetings too as long as your request was logged in the Registry Receptionist’s diary. The Registrar held a tea-party in the Vice-Chancellor’s Office in honour of her retirement and uttered the most eloquent and profound tribute that I’ve ever heard on such an occasion.  The last of her kind, she wasn’t replaced.

Catering for meetings can be tricky as it seems we can never go too long without some sort of sustenance.  During City Council Housing Committee meetings over lunch in the late ’80s, as a council officer I struggled to make myself heard above the sound of Members slurping their soup. The soup option was later withdrawn; the sandwiches and sausage rolls continued well into the ’90s.  Anything, however, was preferable to the sight and sound of chief executive Anne Seex, chewing gum as she presented her reports to the Cabinet Meeting.  Observing my glares, she carried on regardless, seemingly oblivious to the effect of her ruminant impersonation.

THE DEPARTMENTAL MEETING

‘he has now prepared for the afternoon by placing here a backfile of bound volumes of the British Journal of Sociology; he is head-down at once, flicking over pages with practised hand’  (The History Man, p153)

At one time I would have been highly irritated at the presence of any distraction at a meeting that took someone’s attention from the agenda.  I recall over fifteen years ago, Councillor David Fullman’s habit of texting during Norwich City Council’s Housing Committee meetings.  No amount of glaring by me – the housing policy officer presenting her report – would shame David into putting down his gadget. The glaring was pointless (he was looking at his phone) but at least I was displaying my disapproval, should anyone care to notice.  But just when I thought he wasn’t paying attention, David would nonchalantly chip in, not only with a correction to a typo in my report that I hadn’t spotted, but with an incredibly insightful contribution to the discussion.  No doubt David didn’t realise at the time that he was ahead of the game.  Effectively utilising one’s time at meetings is clearly an art.

Today David is not alone.  During meetings at the university, many of us habitually log onto our ipads, macbooks, laptops and smartphones, perusing communications, dealing with vital matters during moments when attention is diverted to someone else around the table and even at times, when all eyes are turned on us.  No problem.  Like soap operas when you’ve missed an episode or two, it’s not difficult to pick up the thread of a departmental meeting after a few, or indeed several, minutes down time.  Perhaps I should take a pile of SRHE Research into Higher Education Abstracts into the next meeting and chew my way through those –

would this be viewed as legit, I wonder?

The History Man

 

 

 

 

 

The utility of the economic lexicon in HE

Higher education, Uncategorized, , , , , , , ,

The utility of the economic lexicon in HE

This post is prompted by a reading of Philip Roscoe’s publication, ‘I spend therefore I am: the  true cost of economics’ (2014) Viking

Roscoe’s wistful and entertaining appraisal of the discipline that is economics provides another useful reference point in my quest to go beyond the technical instruments of capital in my doctoral research analysis. In a previous post entitled, ‘Conviviality with a cause’ I observe Bev Skeggs’ assertion that as sociologists we have a duty not to reproduce the logic of capital in everything we analyse. In applying the logic of capital we convert everything into commodity. We become the subject of capital and we internalise its imperatives. The notion of a commodity or commodification in this context merits closer examination.

Roscoe’s wide-ranging treatise which includes a section on, ‘Lists, rankings and the commodification of education’ highlights the malignant legacy of the Chicago School of Economics and in particular, Becker’s theory of human capital which has helped to, ‘reinforce a myopic understanding of the point and purpose of education.’ Roscoe depressingly describes the ‘subtle repositioning’ of education as, ‘some kind of experiential commodity, like a safari or an adventure day in a hot-air balloon.’

In my post entitled, ‘The marketisation marvel in higher education’, I bemoan the existence of a discourse and managerial structure in higher education that is dominated by enterprise and an emulation of the business world although I do assert that universities are still distinguishable from private sector companies. Roscoe it seems, is less optimistic as he contemplates the commodification of university education which has recast students as customers who, according to Roscoe, do not see that buying a tin of beans from the supermarket is a profoundly different transaction from embarking upon a process of education that requires them to participate, ‘to the limits of their ability, imagination and emotional reserve.’ He echoes Mary Beard when he calls for dissatisfied students who are unsettled by what they have learned and, ‘driven to a critical examination of their preconceptions.’

Has higher education become a commodity? Is it now ‘fungible’ (a term deployed by Roscoe); something that is freely traded; one degree or university being indistinguishable from the next with the ‘student experience’ being the differential?

What other signs are there of commodification in higher education?

At the Engage 2013 Conference in Bristol, Professor Ella Ritchie, Deputy Vice-Chancellor with specific responsibility for Engagement and Internationalisation (University of Newcastle), warned that we were in danger of treating university-community engagement as a commodity. And in my post entitled, ‘Why extreme volunteering is too extreme’, I express concern about the industry that has of late emerged around student volunteering or ‘employability’ as it is called these days and suggest that we are in danger of commodifying the very act of student volunteering.

So, does our use of terms and notions such as ‘capital’ and ‘commodity’ REALLY restrict our ability to critically reflect on these important issues? It seems to me that utilising the concept of commodification in this context actually galvanises the sort of reflection that is so badly needed in higher education today on many levels.

It is sometimes necessary to administer a little jolt!

Roscoe wants us to look beyond the ‘machinery of calculation’; beyond the ‘lists, rankings, scores, tabulations and algorithms that populate our lives’ and says that humans are, ‘distinctive because we can treat others as persons, distinctive in our ability to empathize with, commit to and understand one another, and to build relationships that are strong and mutually nourishing.’

But Roscoe does NOT want us to abandon economics altogether. Instead, he wants us to ‘occupy’ economics; make economics subservient to a higher social and democratic vision.

And why not; the economic lexicon does have its uses.

References:

Bev Skeggs, ‘Values beyond value? Is anything beyond the logic of capital?’

2013 BJS Annual Public Lecture, given at the London School of Economics on 17th October 2013 –

http://www.lse.ac.uk/newsAndMedia/videoAndAudio/channels/publicLecturesAndEvents/player.aspx?id=2057

 

Why ‘extreme’ volunteering is too extreme

Volunteering, , ,

At the turn of the year I read NESTA’s ‘14 for 2014’, predictions compiled by their ‘team of in-house experts’ for the coming 12 months.  My attention was drawn to the topic ‘The rise of extreme volunteering’ by Lindsay Levkoff Lynn.  (For some reason, for me the word extreme always conjures up an image of the sport they call extreme ironing but that may just be an indication of how much I loathe that particular activity; a topic for another posting maybe.)  Lindsay says that extreme volunteering is about regular people going beyond the usual levels of volunteering, and gives some great examples such as the City Year volunteers; 18-25 year olds who dedicate a year, full-time, before university, or work to support head teachers in turning around underprivileged UK schools, and Shared Lives Plus, whereby families ‘adopt’ someone in need, giving them a place to live and making them a part of the family.  I have no doubt that these, and many such similar schemes, truly change people’s lives.

For many, volunteering is simply a way of life.  It’s in their DNA, and represents the more positive side of human nature.  What worries me is Lindsay’s prediction, and in particular her application of the term ‘extreme’ in the context of volunteering.  I am concerned that –

–          any volunteering which is construed as ordinary, or not extreme, may be viewed as a lesser activity.  We seem to be in an age where people feel they must do something out of the ordinary to get noticed and we are in danger of not valuing the mundane without which, society would come unstuck.

–          any cause or need which is construed as ordinary, or not extreme, may be viewed as a lesser cause.  There is a danger of ignoring basic needs, such as having some form of day-to-day human contact, which can be met via a simple act of kindness, no matter how small.

–          volunteering might be relied on to take the place of state services in times of austerity.  There is nothing wrong in recognising the value of neighbourly assistance, particularly in hard times such as these.  There is a danger, however, in accepting a lesser role for the state in the welfare of our society, and in assuming that volunteering will fill the gaps.

–          the notion of a gap year as a ‘give back’ year detracts from the idea of giving.  I agree that those young people who are privileged enough to take a gap year at all are likely to appreciate the notion of giving back but this may well detract from the act of giving itself.  Of course, the volunteer also benefit from volunteering, but does it have to be promulgated as some sort of reciprocity?  Why not just give?

I first started volunteering at the age of thirteen years, helping my parents, Triss and Bas Driver, at the Cambridge PHAB Club, founded by my amazing godmother, Joyce Mitchell who, at nearly ninety, is still actively involved.  My parents were also involved in running a youth club at the United Reform Church in Victoria Road also in Cambridge;  this at a tender age when they weren’t much older than the club members themselves.  I have a vivid memory of Mum and Dad running the pram race from Cambridge to Ely as a fund-raiser.  This was in the 1960s – remember those Silver Cross prams? – you can easily accommodate a grown man dressed as a baby in one of those!  And they’re still volunteering; although maybe not the pram racing these days.  I’m indebted to them both for passing on that lifelong passion.

I was also lucky enough to take two gap years, before and after my undergraduate degree over thirty years ago. Volunteering featured in both, particularly the second, when I worked as a full-time volunteer at the Cambridge Women’s Refuge.  As an undergraduate I had been involved hospital visiting, working with the Gingerbread Group, supporting lone parents, and with the College Nightline Service, which served, not only students but also the wider community.   As a postgraduate, I had the privilege of being involved in the miners’ strike, not only in the political act of picketing, but also in putting together and distributing food parcels to the miners’ families.  I had the time to do all this because I hadn’t had to work my way through college, unlike so many, who must now do so in order to pay their way.

Students bring a passion and volunteering ethos to our universities.  And higher education institutions should indeed support, encourage, and most of all, recognise and value, what they do.  I’ve been impressed, for example, by the work of UEA’s Stop the Traffik student society, and the incredible commitment of individual students, who are driven by a desire to make a difference.

I’m concerned, however, about the industry that has of late emerged around student volunteering, or ‘employability’ as it is called these days.  I’m not denying that volunteering is good for the CV, and I always encourage young people to make the most of their credentials in order to improve their prospects of employment.  It’s certainly useful to have an addition to the standard CV when setting out your stall.  However, it is absolutely vital that accreditation, and indeed certification in the form of instruments, such as the Higher Education Achievement Report, does not end up commodifying the very act of volunteering.

Lindsay predicts that in 2014 extreme volunteering will become the norm, and that we will live in a better world as a result.  I say, don’t neglect the mundane and value all who want to make a difference.

You can find her prediction here –

http://www.nesta.org.uk/news/14-predictions-2014/rise-extreme-volunteering