Category Archives: innovation

Black Creativity

The explosion of Black creativity 100 years ago—known as the “New Negro Movement” or “Harlem Renaissance”—saw Black creatives boldly demonstrating their unique artistic gifts in traditional representations as well as in angry and political forms.

"Aspiration" by Aaron Douglas representing Black people through time
Aspiration, by Aaron Douglas (1936)

Though it may not have been the impetus for this explosion of creativity, it was occurring in the midst of the greatest migration of Black people from the South to other parts of the country. Pushed by poverty, injustices inherent in sharecropping, the prevalence of Jim Crow laws, and the constant threat of inhumane violence, Black people left the only places most of them knew as home and ventured on faith and a prayer into unknown lands that were also suspect.

Having found a refuge from sanctioned violence and a way out of abject poverty, many Black people were able to allow their creativity to flourish. Though many of the most prominent and celebrated creatives had not experienced first-hand the cruelest injustices their Black brothers and sisters from the South were fleeing, proximity and knowledge of suffering and resilience, alike, served as the impetus to create and invested the artists’ creativity with meaning.

Also, in utilizing these realities as subject matter, creatives were able to elevate and reveal to the world the state of most Black Americans fleeing the South. Out of pain came genius and culture in which Black artists seemed unified in purpose, if not style, in showing what the world of Black people was and what it could be.

Notes on a Napkin

Twenty-three years ago—once again finding myself in a restaurant eating alone, a consequence of traveling around the country to be among members in their regions and to make speeches on various subjects—I often jotted my musings on a napkin.

On one such napkin, I wrote about what I wanted to say at the association’s business meeting as an introduction to reporting on the statistics and successes since the last annual meeting:

“We have to attend to the demographics of the profession to insure that what we as an association offer is relevant not just for today and today’s members, but for the future and tomorrow’s members. Student affairs and other support services are projecting the largest number of retirees within the next 5-10 years that the profession has experienced.

“Our challenge is to meet the needs of professionals up and down the demographic ladder. We can do this by broadening our definition of diversity among our membership to include age, gender, race, socioeconomic factors, and different perspectives.

“We need good people who are eyeing retirement to remain active in the profession as mentors and sages. We must find a way to capitalize on the gifts and legacies of our retiring professionals.

“At the same time, we need to look to mid-level, new and potential professionals to rejuvenate the field and the association. Determining what they need from their professional association is a particular challenge. In addition to meeting their professional needs, we want the talents they bring to move the association forward.

“We need to help the burgeoning number of mid-level professionals to assume leadership roles. What is the best way to show them that we need their participation and leadership to accomplish our vision?

“One of our tasks is to emphasize the power of leading from the middle.”

From what I can glean, as an outsider today, the association has been successful in bringing to fruition what were notes on a napkin a long time ago.

White empty napkin and pen on gray background

Invisible Leader

There was once a woman, in a land far away, who made a New Year’s resolution about how she wanted to best serve the organization for which she was given the privilege of being executive director.

While membership increase and satisfaction were always at the top of her mind, she wanted to move forward with intention on what some called leading-edge innovations. She wanted to play a role in helping the organization realize its potential.

When she was oriented to her position, it was made clear that she was not to think of herself as the leader representing the organization. She was staff in service to the board who represented the membership. Her role was to carry out the wishes of the board.

After being in the executive position for a while, it became clear to her that in addition to carrying out the directives of the board, she—in collaboration with volunteer members and the staff team—had an incredible opportunity to move the organization forward in ways that would meet members’ needs and be good for higher education.

On the occasions when she ventured beyond the boundaries of how the board envisioned her role, she was chastised and directed to pull back and stay within the bailiwick of what one in her position had always done. She was to keep the mechanics of the machine running smoothly.

These cautions and restrictions puzzled her because colleagues in similar roles were not only allowed visibility but encouraged and rewarded for exhibiting leadership. In her heart, she knew that those who hired her did so because they saw that she wanted to fly and had the determination and courage to test the power of the organization.

After moving forward and often standing up without permission, she eventually learned that in her position, if she wanted to survive, she had to shape-shift depending on the characteristics of the board as a whole and the agendas of specific members of the board.

When there were board leaders who had vision beyond merely maintaining the good standing of the organization, she knew that it was possible not only to claim the organization’s tag line, but to realize what it meant to be the leading voice for student affairs in higher education.

With these forward-thinking leaders, there were test flights into the unknown. Invariably, following such visionary leaders, however, there would be new leaders who thought they had a mandate to rein her in and ground her before there were future flights. They feared that there was too much change too fast.

 They thought that there were too many innovations, too many new partnerships outside of student affairs, too much attention to seeking grant support, and a need to be careful about positioning the organization in areas that other organizations had traditionally had a role.

Dismayed but not discouraged by these attitudes, she had faith that what, at times, seemed like the curse and most difficult part of her role was also the best and saving grace. Unlike many organizations with board members who had long tenure, members of her board rotated off in two-year cycles—except for the chair who, given their role as part of the executive committee, served for an additional year. She counted on leaders with whom she could work in partnership to help the organization move toward its highest potential.

In the end, it was not about being seen as a leader. It was about keeping those new year’s resolutions. Being the invisible leader worked just fine in this land far away.

Artist Appreciation

the word create written with multicolored crayons

I have a great appreciation for people who create art. The closest I ever came to creating “art” was as a child carefully coloring within the lines while playing with my coloring books. I loved coloring and eventually began to use my darker colored crayons to outline the images  and a lighter shade of the same colored-crayon for the body of the image. My favorite gifts were larger and larger boxes of crayons. My first box had about eight colored crayons and I think the last box I remember having had sixty-four crayons!

Not having the experience of craft-making—except for a few potholders in a summer Bible study and crocheting Afghan throws when I was pregnant—I don’t recall ever having made something that could be called art or craft. My lack of exposure to ways to be creative and perhaps my real lack of talent may be the reason why I hold those who can create art in such high esteem.

I value artists and what they contribute to a world of beauty often, and to imagination all the time. Using what they have learned and their natural talent, it seems to me that they have an advanced level of human intelligence and more courage than those of us who have been too fearful of failure to dig deep enough within ourselves to find the spirit and essence of what we might be capable of doing. In my case, it’s easier to deny any desire to create art than to devote myself to pursuing something that I might fail to achieve.

I think that artists meld their emotions and imagination into the kind of self-expression that is more than aesthetic fulfillment. It is a dedication to a search for truth born out of a passion to create. Artists’ creations speak to that part of humans that craves a shared experience. Through their work, artists help us to bridge the gap between what is and what could be. Their art helps us to focus on the intangibles as well as aid us in seeing the bigger picture.

Self-expression through creative endeavors is a gift to be treasured. I appreciate the artists who make our world more livable and our lives more fulfilling.

August is American Artist Appreciation Month. Let’s thank and celebrate our artists! 

Mr. Fantastic

Laurence N Smith

Once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky, you will know a Mr. or Ms. FANTASTIC!

Laurence N. Smith is my Mr. Fantastic! He was the vice president for University Marketing and Student Affairs at Eastern Michigan University from 1975–2000.

I give him this title because he stands out from the rest in every way. He’s always the tallest in the room and the smartest in the room. And when asked how he’s doing, invariably, he responds, “FAANTASTIC!”

Leadership in a volunteer organization based in higher education can be a different experience than what a leader might be able to do in a top-down organization where the people responsible for making the trains run on time are paid and can be released at-will.

When I was in such a leadership position, willing volunteers were the key to success. Many stepped forward to let me know that I could count on them to help me achieve the goals of the organization. They used words like “help you,” “support you,” “here when you need me.”

In my imaginative recall, Larry Smith, towering over the heads of his colleagues, fixed his eyes on me, made a beeline to me, and asked, “What is your vision for this organization?” With confidence, I summarized my mandate from the volunteer board of directors and added my own vision, which could be described as fantastical given the structure and history of the organization. Mr. Fantastic’s eyes communicated, “Are you sure?” The gaze I returned indicated that I was.

Lyrics from songs best describe his response: “Come along with me,” “I’ll take you there,” “I believe I can fly!” My leadership vision was the perfect vehicle for Mr. Fantastic to test drive his ideas about what student affairs administration in higher education could “truly be.”

On the journey with Mr. Fantastic, it was obvious that when we were talking about using listservs to bring our members together in conversation from various locations, he was already thinking about what we now call Zoom meetings. When we were talking about Palm Pilots, he was envisioning what is now Chat GPT. Always looking toward the possibilities for the future, never fearing failure, and always optimistic is my Mr. Fantastic.

And I’m not the only one that found Larry to be fantastic. In 1999, he was named a NASPA Pillar of the Profession, and in 2002, he was the recipient of the Fred Turner Award for Outstanding Service to NASPA. The equivalent of a Lifetime Achievement Award, the Turner Award recognizes NASPA members who have brought honor and dignity to the student affairs profession and to NASPA as an association for a sustained period. Among Larry’s extensive activities, he was founder and chair of the NASPA National Academy for Leadership and Executive Effectiveness and executive editor of NASPA’s online management magazine.

I spoke with Larry recently and told him that to have him as a colleague and friend during my time at NASPA was a blessing of pain and glory. The pain was tempering the projections of where the organization could go and modulating the speed of change in order to be in sync with the volunteer leadership. The glory was the innovations NASPA achieved through its volunteers when we were flying with Mr. FAANTASTIC!

Thank you, Larry. I am truly grateful for your colleagueship and friendship.

A Philosophy of Sorts

Guest blog by David Keymer

Over time I arrived at something like a philosophy to govern my work in student affairs and higher education. Ultimately, all of our expertise points back to a vision of what college and university life should be like, what it should do. Universities and colleges are a special kind of community—a community of learners. The emphasis should be on both words: “community” and “learners.”

The ideas, then, are simple…nothing complicated:

First and foremost, I was there for the students, and the students were there to get an education. In this exchange, then, it was the students who were paramount. If it was about empowering students, it was simply a matter of service for me. That meant that…

  • students should always be able to reach me;
  • it was important that I give good value in whatever I did; and
  • ego was less important than results.

Using power gratuitously is not only wrong, it’s counterproductive. The power I held was the position’s and there for a purpose. It was not mine and, just because I had it by way of the position did not mean I had to use it.

This was especially true as I realized that everyone on campus needed to be in the same business of helping students succeed, academically as well as socially. Parents or prospective students didn’t come on campus and ask where the Vice President for Student Affairs’ office was. They talked to whomever they met. It might be a worker planting flowers in the flower beds outside a classroom building, or a campus police officer passing by, or a stray faculty member or student on the way to class. As a result, I did a lot of walking around talking to colleagues and students to ensure we got our message out that we had the same ends and were serious and proud of our commitment to student success.

Everything I managed to do required other people. It was important, then, that I listen to EVERYone, not take others for granted, and recognize others’ contributions and let them know I appreciated them. That being said, an important piece of effectively working with people is to cooperate, but “never give up your teeth.” The work is too important, and every so often, you may have to take a bite out of someone to convince the other person you’re not kidding.

Relatedly, developing people is as important as spurring them on to work well. It takes time, money, and effort to find and hire someone new for a position. If there were difficulties initially, it wasn’t a matter of giving up, but needing to find out what people did well and what inspired them, then leveraging those strengths and interests.

After all, work should be fun as well as work.


David Keymer served as a chief student affairs officer at SUNY Utica Rome; California State University, Stanislaus; and Zayed University (Dubai and Abu Dhabi) from 1983-2004. For more wisdom gleaned from Keymer’s experience in student affairs across these varied institutions, check out the seven-part series published in 2021 from a set of interviews.

Removing Roadblocks

Many community college students are true immigrants to higher education. To them, going to college is as foreign as finding themselves put ashore in a strange land.

Once they embark upon a college education at the community college, often their main concerns include how to pay for their course work and how to juggle their myriad responsibilities in order to find time to study.

Often, their plans include getting as many courses done as possible at the community college at lower costs before continuing toward their four-year degree.  

They are proud of these hard-earned credits. However, too often they find their safe harbor disrupted when they discover that many of the credits earned at the community college will not transfer or be accepted by their choice of a four-year college.

More than 40 years ago when I worked at a community college, the most time-consuming and frustrating parts of my job as a counselor and academic adviser were to work with students who were being stymied in their progress because the community colleges and four-year colleges could not come to agreement on which courses taken at the community college were “equivalent” to courses at the four-year college. I think now as I did then: If community colleges are “colleges” and faculty who teach the courses are qualified and students meet the requirements, why are there questions about equivalences?

A recent story on Marketplace Morning Report noted that when transferring from a community college to a four-year college, about “43% of college credits don’t end up counting toward a new degree.” The reasons for this lack of cooperation and consistency between community and four-year colleges seem to be about money and hierarchy.

With less funding from states and counties and increasing infrastructure costs for colleges and universities, four-year colleges continue to raise tuition as a source of revenue. Done intentionally or not, having students repeat courses already taken at community colleges is another source of revenue.

Then there is the hierarchy. Community colleges that were created to give opportunities to a broader spectrum of students in their own communities are often described in unflattering terms. Rather than being seen as a way to level the playing field, the hierarchy is preserved when the gatekeepers at four-year colleges stand in judgment as to the worth of the credits earned at community colleges.

Students have little say or control about the transfer of credits and suffer the consequences of being stuck in the middle. If faculty from the two types of institutions cannot agree on what is acceptable in courses of the same or similar names and descriptions, then it may be time for outsiders to interfere further in the business of the professionals in higher education.

If outsiders are allowed to make decisions about what is appropriate to be in the curriculum, how teachers teach, and what books are in the library, why not take this interference further and mandate articulation on course transfer between community and four-year colleges? The time is long overdue for leadership to require that the roadblocks to complete articulation between community and four-year colleges be removed.

Jews of the Wild West

On Palm Sunday, April 2, 2023, I went to the Scottsdale Museum of the West to see a screening of the documentary film, Jews of the Wild West.

As I watched the film, I kept thinking about how the stories of Jewish people who immigrated to the United States and later to the Western United States appear to be missing from American history. The absence continues to be perpetuated in books and films today. A special thanks is owed to the nonprofit production company and to the filmmaker, Amanda Kinsey, for uncovering and sharing such a significant part of American history.

Notable Jewish migrants to the West are Levi Strauss, who we can thank for the jeans we wear; Isaac Shwayder, whose son, Jesse, founded the premier luggage line Samsonite; and Meyer Guggenheim, patriarch of the philanthropic Guggenheim family whose wealth came from the mining and smelting business. Women such as Golda Meir were also prominent in establishing a Jewish presence in the West. To say that these families had humble beginnings is an understatement.

They used their ingenuity, persistence, grit, and desire to make a life without persecution—one in which they not only survived the hardships of the frontier but thrived. They found that the Wild West had less antisemitism than New York City. In general, people who moved West had one thing on their minds: taking advantage of the riches the frontier would eventually offer.

The Jews who migrated West, for the most part, were not panning streams and mining for gold. They understood that people needed practical products and clothes as they pursued their dreams of a better life and their road to riches. The Jewish migrants may have started out as peddlers who made enough money to open a dry goods store as in the case of Shwayder. Eventually, they found markets within their communities and beyond that became their road to success. Because they were usually the only people in the community with a business, they often became the mayors of these frontier towns.

Jews of the Wild West is rich with the personal stories of the Jews who struck out for the Wild West and made good. Check out streaming platforms and American Public Television to see this film.

A Helper’s FIRE

I’ve talked with people who after many years in a particular kind of work feel unsettled as if they are not doing the kind of work that fulfills their passion. Others I’ve had conversations with have changed the kind of work they do many times. They say that they get restless after the bloom of doing something different begins to fade.

Like those I’ve spoken with who wonder if there is something that they should be doing rather than what they are doing with their lives, I’ve had these thoughts. But for me, these thoughts have been fleeting. During my career journey, I took many of the assessments that purport to help career searchers begin to narrow their focus. Interpretations of my various assessment results showed a consistency in that whatever I chose for a career, I would be a “helper.”

I defined being a helper as someone who would provide support to others in reaching their goals and human potential. The question for me was how this might be realized in a specific career. Coming of age in the 1960s, I didn’t believe that the universe of options was open to me. Going into the medical field was my teenage dream. However, the reality of my financial situation made that dream unrealistic as a goal.

Being a teacher was one way that I could become a helper. However, it was a choice for which I settled rather than one for which I had a strong inclination. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was during these years that I thought I was settling that I found my passion. Teaching helped me realize that young people found it easy to relate to me and sought my counsel beyond the classroom. During these one-to-one sessions with students, I learned that many of them worked to the level that was expected of them rather than to the level of what they were capable of doing. They had more potential than they realized. Helping these students see beyond their current circumscribed existence brought me joy.

My sense of satisfaction in these relationships with students and their positive response to me confirmed for me that I was in the right place. Attaining a degree in counseling, I was prepared to be a helper. I found real congruence between who I imagined myself to be and who I could be in my career as a mental health and career counselor.

Even at this early stage of my journey, my touchstones of FIRE were part of my inner process:

I accepted the situation that I was in (fate).

I believed that I would be led to the right outcome (faith).

I focused on living a life infused with integrity.

I took initiative to get the required credentials to do what I wanted to do.

I was constantly reflecting on circumstances in a manner that I could glean lessons from my experiences.

I always tried to respect those with whom I interacted regardless of age and position.

I applied energy to achieve career goals and to carry out my responsibilities as a spouse and parent.  

I freely expressed empathy for others, and I allowed myself empathy when it seemed that I had lost my way.

My hopeful wish for young professionals is that you will find the path that will lead you to your place of passion and fulfillment in your professional and personal life.