What We Should Learn From Suzy Weiss and her Ridiculous Rant

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By now, anyone who has read/seen/heard about the op-ed piece that high school senior Suzy Weiss wrote in the Wall Street Journal has probably decided that she is entitled and maybe the reason she didn’t get into those Ivy League schools is that she’s kind of a jerk. The op-ed, which is an open letter to all of the schools she didn’t get into, is a rambling, offensive, racist, homophobic, white privileged, entitled rant from a hurt and angry young woman whose sister happens to have previously been an editor for the WSJ.

She says that Ivy League schools “lied to her”, saying that she should “just be [her]self”. Apparently, just being herself includes deriding her peers who have been raised in less advantaged circumstances, who have put in more time and effort than she in philanthropy, volunteerism, practicing fine arts, or who have minority racial or sexual identities. She says that her piece is “satire”, which leads me to believe that another reason she didn’t get into an Ivy League school is that she doesn’t know the meaning of satire, because the only folly or vice that she is exposing is her own self-centered naivete and white/straight/class privilege. Following this story has made me truly wonder why responsible adults in her life and those working at the WSJ did not intervene by telling her to pick her complaining, egotistical self up off of the floor, learn to accept failure and rejection, and by the way, to chill out with the racist and homophobic comments.

But now here is the ugly truth: I was not so different from Suzy Weiss, back in 2006. I was a smart, white girl, top of my class, great SAT scores (same as Suzy’s, coincidentally), and a good dose of artistic, extracurricular, and volunteer involvement. I may have actually had a more impressive resume than Suzy. I got rejected from Brown and Harvard in one day.  I cried really hard at my high school musical rehearsal. I ripped up the rejection letters. I cried in the guidance counselor’s office, where sentiments such as “I can’t believe Ashley didn’t get into Brown” were heard from well-meaning white women. I was pretty unimpressed when I found out who did get in. And I’m not proud of it, but I listed some of the same racist, privileged reasons that Suzy did in her tirade. These feelings were corroborated by my equally racist family and friends, and even some of my faculty.

It’s a pretty ugly story, and it reminds me constantly of how crucial it is to educate white students about social justice. I was a good kid, and Suzy Weiss probably is, too, although she looks like a real asshole right now. Suzy Weiss and I were in the same boat.  The difference between me and Suzy is that I don’t know anyone who works at a national news outlet, and I wasn’t encouraged to publicly broadcast my misguided anger to the nation. My frustrations were entertained for a while by the adults in my life, but then they helped me hold a mirror up to how lucky I was. I had two full tuition offers; seriously, what right did I have to be angry?

So the problem with the Suzy Weiss situation is not that she felt that way when she got rejected from her dream schools. Thousands and thousands of students feel that way. Thousands of students who cross the thresholds of many of our outstanding public and private but not quite Ivy League institutions every year feel exactly that way. Young, privileged, entitled white kids are raised to feel that way.  I felt that way, and now I’m an outspoken social justice educator who wrote a research paper in defense of race-based affirmative action.

The problem is that Suzy Weiss was allowed to take her feelings to a national stage and given license to disguise them as satire. The key here is that there is someone there when these kids fail and get rejected to help them lean into the discomfort of failure and learn from it, to examine how their privileged assumptions are not facts, but are myths of a racist, sexist, classist, heteronormative America. As educators, we can help these students reach their full potential by making them look at their own privilege, supporting them as they learn through failure and rejection, and helping them to learn about the world beyond their previous assumptions. Is it unconventional to ask you, college educators, to take a risk on privileged white kids like Suzy Weiss? Kind of. The Suzy Weisses of the Class of 2017 are going to do just fine in college, but we can help them do better in life. Educating white students about social justice, making them allies, showing them their privilege, teaching them humility and how to struggle–this is part of the big picture of how we use higher education to make our society better, how we bring up the next generation of adults who raise their children to think twice about their own experiences and the world around them.

Why Lean In is Worth Reading and Talking About

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I recently finished reading Sheryl Sandberg’s book Lean In, which received much attention in the media up to its release, and has inspired a good deal of coverage of topics related to women and work in the past week or so. I actually preordered a Kindle copy so that I would be able to read it immediately upon its release last Monday (which is something I’ve never actually done before). I have to admit, because of the amount of attention it is getting, and my own enthusiasm, I was actually expecting to be totally let down by the book. I even thought that there was a good chance that I would be angered by it. But I wasn’t. I liked it, felt that it was an important addition to the conversation (or lack of conversation) on this topic, and it felt genuine and balanced. The book is often based in and inspired by her personal experiences, but there is a strong dose of research and statistics supporting her assertions. Not for nothing, but Gloria Steinem advised her while she was writing. So that deserves some credit.

Sandberg’s approach is careful not to go too far to advance any certain agenda of forcing women to do certain things with their careers, personal lives, or both. Many news stories have taken up the question of whether Sandberg is telling women to lean in too much to their careers, with an accusatory implication that she is trying to run others’ lives without acknowledging her privilege. I’m afraid that everyone involved in those stories might not have read the book or talked to Sandberg. She consistently repeats the message that every path is different, that no two relationships, careers, or lives are the same, nor should women be compared to each other or made to feel guilty or demeaned, especially by other women.

Sandberg advocates for change at the individual level; she acknowledges that the system and the individual pose a chicken and egg conundrum (women will fix things when we become leaders…but how are we supposed to create a critical mass of women leaders without things being fixed?) and chooses to push individuals to create change in their own lives. I take no issue with this stance, as it recognizes that we need to do both, that we can’t do one without the other, and that we definitely can’t do nothing.

What is most interesting about the discord over this book, and in general, over pushing for equity in our careers and in our homes between partners, is that the very systemic and social factors that drive the inequity are those which drive the negative feedback. This is hardly surprising for anyone who has studied privilege and oppression or critical feminist or race theory. Of course the system responds to dialogue that challenges the status quo by defending the status quo. Duh. That’s how the system works to keep oppressing. What can be confusing is that women are often the most vocal critics of suggestions like the ones Sandberg makes.

Again, this is not altogether surprising to those who have spent much time thinking about privilege and oppression. It’s a little thing called internalized oppression, and it’s one of the reasons that systems of privilege and oppression work so well. The oppressed are socialized to believe the same messages as the privileged. When a woman gets upset at another woman for dismantling the status quo, it’s because dismantling the status quo shakes things up for everyone, regardless of which side of the oppression you are on. So when women cry out against what Sandberg is saying, its incredibly ironic and also entrenched in the oppressive system. Firstly, they are trying to take down another woman, minimizing her credibility, attacking her success, and ostracizing her from the community of women. Secondly, they are coming from a place in which their own experiences are socialized to normalize the status quo of male hegemonic power that Sandberg is calling out. This is so harmful because mostly, people will say “Well these other women seem to see a problem with this, so they are probably right–now I can return to my comfort zone”. Everyone, of course, has the right to make whatever choices they like; the problem with that is that what we “like” is what we are socialized to like, want, feel, and do.

There is no essential part of any of us that indicates “I’m going to become a corporate lawyer” or “I’m going to become a Vice President of a university” or “I’m going to stay at home with my two kids”. There is also no biologically essential part that says “I can/can’t speak up in this meeting” or “I can/can’t seek a promotion”. This is not in our DNA. It’s biological essentialism and it just doesn’t hold up, because those messages are all socially constructed throughout our lives. We are a complete product of our environments with regard to social behavior. There are some things that are biologically true: women can give birth and men can’t; women can nurse a baby, which has some real health benefits. But we’re really past the point where that should be limiting women to only serving those roles. The reality is that these messages do real harm to women, limiting their earning power, limiting their sense of social freedom and fulfillment, leaving them in sometimes impossible situations if they get divorced or leave a partner, and consistently perpetuating a status quo in which women are less than–quantitatively less than in terms of salary and representation in leadership positions–than men.

What I truly appreciate about Sandberg is that she is targeting a mainstream audience. And not only does she want to do so in a theoretical sense with what she has written, but she has also worked to establish an accessible and intentional system of practice in everyday life through the Lean In Circles she promotes on leanin.org. She’s is not just talking the talk, she is walking the walk, and hoping to help others do the same. Sandberg is not writing for those who already have a strong understanding of feminist theory or the reasons women are held back in careers; but if you do understand and are passionate about this topic, it’s worth listening in and raising your voice up. Change is made when radical ideas become less radical and start to create the new normal.

The Truth About the First Year as a New Professional

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This time last year, I was at the height of job searching. I was focused on finishing my degree and getting a job, confident that I would then be headed for smooth sailing. The problem with my intense focus on the job/degree goal is that I didn’t understand that challenges that would await me on the other side. I would say that my first year has been pretty good so far, but there is no denying that it’s been a major shift in my life. Here are some things that I’ve learned so far in my transition/quarter-life crisis.

  1. There are some things that you just don’t know until you know. Hindsight is 20/20, so to speak. You could ask a thousand questions during the job interview process, but there are a lot of things that you will never realize are important until you’re in the thick of it. It’s really tough to understand how you feel about something until you’ve experienced it. The nature of a job on paper and in words is quite different from the day to day experience. Because of this, having an open and positive attitude is an absolute must. “Open and positive”, by the way, does not mean, “just accept everything without question”.
  2. You might really miss being a student. That’s right. I said it. Not being a student has made me truly understand how awesome being a student was. I’m not sure if this is because of the constant sense of purpose and motivation that I derived from working toward my degree, the environment of inquiry and dialogue that I was part of, the sense of connection I felt to my institution because I was enrolled there, or just knowing where the heck buildings on campus were. All of the above. I know for sure that I miss it.
  3. Building a social network is a lot easier when you’re in school.  You thought making friends in college was tough? Being a grown up is a lot tougher. In graduate school, I spent so much of my time with my peers. We had classes together, ate meals together in the dining hall, worked on projects together in the library  or at each others’ homes, we were in a student organization together, etc. There was forced social interaction all the time. Turns out, this is helpful for actually getting to know people and spending time with them voluntarily. Don’t get me wrong; I get along well with many of my colleagues now and consider them friends. But living without that circle of friends that I was used to is one of the biggest differences. When your life doesn’t force you to spend time with others, you spend a heck of a lot more time alone. You need to make more of an effort to get to know people and build a network of friends.
  4. Life is hardly ever what you expected it to be like. This lesson is partly a result of my professional transition, but mostly a result of my personal experiences and my growing understanding of this journey I’m on at this particular time in my life. Most of the time, our expectations of the future turn out to be pretty inaccurate. The real question is whether or not we can free ourselves from those previous definitions and embrace the possibilities that await us every day. When I was younger, I can assure you that I did not think that as I near 25, I would be living in an apartment on a college campus, single, and with no path in the near future to getting married or having children. In many ways, that was how I contemplated my successful adult life for a long time. Although I have been shifting away from the “house/husband/children before 30″ preoccupation for a while now, I’m still getting the hang of how I define my non-career related success in my adult life.

What important lessons have others learned from transitioning into their first professional position?

One Word for 2013: Momentum

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For the second year, instead of choosing a New Year’s Resolution, I am choosing One Word to live by in 2013. This is a widely-shared concept that you can find more about on sites like My One Word and One Word 365. I was first introduced to One Word last year by my colleagues in the #SAChat community. As I reflected on in my last post, my One Word for 2012 (Change) was a defining theme in my year and owning the word allowed me to lead a more empowered and purposeful life.

At the outset of this year, I’m in a much different place in my life in many ways. I’ve recently transitioned into many new roles and experiences, and one of my major goals is to sustain my excitement and vigor for these opportunities. Additionally, it occurs to me that at this point in my life, I must maintain focus and enthusiasm for my future goals. When I was still a full-time student, I was continually moved forward by the rhythm of the semesters; it was natural to always gain new skills and experiences, meet new people, and constantly learn. I aspire to cultivate that type of outlook throughout my life as a lifelong learner. All of these thoughts, goals, and concerns boil down to my One Word: Momentum. 

Because I love analogies (and visualization often helps me to overcome challenging moments), I’ll explain momentum this way. As a child, I loved swinging at the playground and in the yard at my house. The swing is an amazing thing because, using your own body and movement, you are able to gain a lot of speed and achieve the sensation of flying through the air. You gain momentum as you swing. My other favorite part of swinging was to reach almost terrifying heights (realistically about 7 or 8 feet…) and then, just at the right moment, to jump off.

The motion of swinging is how I think about Momentum; moving myself in such a way that I can be propelled forward, choosing just the right moment to use my power, strength, and balance to make a jump. Granted, there were many times when I got a face full of dirt, ended up with my windbreaker stuck in the chains, or otherwise miscalculated things. But that never deterred me from getting back on the swing and building up my momentum again.

And so, I am heading out on my 2013 journey with the conviction that a life in motion must stay in motion. I’m taking my momentum with me.

A Year of Change

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The first blog post I wrote on this website almost a year ago was about the “One Word” that I was choosing to live by in 2012. With what I now recognize as an impressive amount of foresight, humility, and a good dose of crippling fear, I chose “change”. Even now, it feels empowering to say that I chose change, instead of feeling like change was always choosing me. I knew then that change would define this year, and I’m grateful that I embraced it.

Without question, this has been one of the most change-filled years of my life. When I look back to last December, I’m looking into a totally different life. I was on the brink of transition, ready to find the next phase of my life. I was preparing to leave behind a place that had defined me for years (and which will always hold a big piece of my heart). I was unknowingly about to experience months of heartbreak, soul-searching, doubt, questioning, and ultimately, self discovery and renewed confidence. There were many times in the months that followed that I sat on the floor and sobbed, whether out of confusion and frustration at a relationship that was rapidly falling apart, fear and sadness for leaving the place I loved, exhaustion from tirelessly working to finish my degree, or the mixture of apprehension, anxiety, and abandon that I fondly refer to as “quarter-life crisising”.

In those and numerous other challenging moments, “change” became my mantra. I have reminded myself quite frequently over the past 12 months that I am choosing change. I want change; I love change. It hurts like hell sometimes. But when I commit myself to something, you had better believe I’m going to follow through. Had I not gifted this magical word to myself at the beginning of the year, would I still have gotten through all of the transitions in my life? Most likely. However, I really believe that I met these challenges with greater conviction, grace, and faith than I would have otherwise. I defined myself as a lover of change; I chose my attitude in anticipation of what I thought was coming for me. In many ways, I got more than I anticipated; but I was ready.

Today I feel that I’m better off than I was a year ago. Yes, I have a degree and a full-time job now (whew), but it is more than that. I have a better sense of who I am and what matters to me. I have, in many ways, reclaimed permission to fully be who I want to be. I realize that my life will always hold changes. Likely, there will be other years similar to this one, during which I will turn to my good old friend Change and ask her to hold my hand along my journey. After all, Change and I are well-acquainted now.

“Honey! I’m Home!”: Making the Most Post-Conference

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I am fresh off of the NASPA Region 1 annual conference right now. (For the record, I had a GREAT time. I love  NASPA. I consider Region 1 Conference to be one of my favorite holidays of the year). It’s only been 5 hours  since we finished “Honoring Our Mission” in Mystic, CT and I’m probably safe in speaking on behalf of all 500+ conference attendees in saying that I’m pretty darn tired. I already took a power nap, in fact. But I’m still thinking hard about how to make the most of my conference experience because it doesn’t end when you go back to campus.

That’s right. The conference is not over. The point of these conferences, of course, is that we bring something back with us (by “bring back”, I mean more than a sweatshirt, t-shirt, coffee mug, PEZ dispenser, and 2 strips of photo booth pictures). I just spent 3 days meeting new people, reconnecting with friends and colleagues, thinking about the field, my career, the future, and the past. The amount of reflection, inquiry, discussion, and relationship building I did at this conference is rarely present in my day-to-day life, and I have no intention of just letting all of that effort fade away.

I’m going to hold myself to some expectations for making the most out of my Post-Conference experience, starting right now, and I challenge all of you to do the same. Here are some of my tips for doing so:

  1. The road to hell is paved with ignored business cards.  Does anyone ever give you a business card at a conference and say “Hey, here’s my card, I hope that you throw it in the bottom of your bag and accidentally find it next August during RA Training and think about how you never emailed me”? No? Well then, don’t do that. If you had a good conversation with someone, follow up. Do it now before you forget what the heck you talked to that person about. Shoot them an email just to say “Hey, it was great to meet you/ see you again/ talk about (_______)”. Look them up on Twitter or LinkedIn. Short conversations at conferences can be the beginning of great relationships that expand your network, help to make friends, and benefit you throughout your career.
  2. Read your notes and your program. I take lots of notes during sessions. I jot down questions, answers, important points, and valuable information. Now is the time to go through those notes, match them up to the name of the session and presenters from the program, and consider if you have any further questions or want more information or resources. Don’t wait until you have a vague memory of hearing a great idea somewhere but have no clue who said it or in what context. Make the connections now.
  3. Fill out the Evaluations. Seriously. Do this. I’m looking at you, Mystic attendees who said “I’ll do the online session evaluation on my phone/laptop/tablet” and never actually got around to it. I know you’re out there! The feedback on sessions is extremely valuable to this year’s presenters and will help to improve the quality of sessions provided in our region each year. Also, make sure to fill out the conference evaluation when you get it in your email.
  4. Volunteer for something that interested you. This is especially important as a new professional. Join one of NASPA’s 26 Knowledge Communities. Contact the Regional KC Chair and say you want to get involved (they are probably going to say “Yes”). Actually go to the Volunteer Central website and fill out your profile. Do this now before you forget about the cool stuff you found out about at the conference, because if you don’t, you’ll regret it when you are reminded at next year’s conference.
  5. Share your learning. Not everyone in your department went to the conference, which means that you now have some awesome knowledge to share with your colleagues at home. Suggest a new approach or program and back it up with the information you learned at the conference. Approach your own institution with a fresh perspective. Make sure that the learning and reflection you experienced at the conference doesn’t just go to waste.

What tips do you have for making the most of your post-conference experience?

The Dangers of Getting Comfortable

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We all want to be comfortable; we want to feel secure, cozy, protected, and liked. It’s nice for the world to give us a big hug every day and tell us we are doing a good job. However, this comfort that we seek can easily become stasis, which is the lethal enemy of innovation, progress, and advancement in both our personal and professional lives.

I feel qualified to anecdotally make this assessment because my life has changed significantly and rapidly this year and I still haven’t reached the point of comfort that I used to be in. As I reflect on this fact, I’m reminded of Sanford’s theory of Challenge and Support and the concept of  ”optimal dissonance”. As you very well may recall, if an environment is too challenging, students may retreat, regress, or ignore the challenge. If it is not challenging enough, students feel safe and comfortable, but don’t develop. This theory obviously does not apply to only students; in fact, I think that the concepts of challenge and support and optimal dissonance play an important role in all of our lives.

This theory is one that we should think seriously about when we consider our work as student affairs professionals. Not only is it a theory I draw on all the time when I am working with students, but it provides an excellent lens through which to consider our day to day work and the way we function within our organizations. We know that it is vital to students’ development to provide them with challenges, and we must do the same for ourselves and our colleagues so that our quality and scope of work does not become stagnant.

It’s okay to be uncomfortable; in fact, it’s more than okay, it’s desirable for each of us to dabble in dissonance so we can continue to progress toward our best selves. As a new professional, I realize that I offer a set of “fresh eyes” to my organization. This is partly due to my newness in the field, my youth, and my experiences elsewhere, but can also be accounted for by the fact that I am still finding my footing. My discomfort means that I must continually ask important questions, challenge assumptions, and offer different perspectives by virtue of my learning process. And I think that these actions are beneficial to me and also to my organization. The friction and tension that new professionals often experience in a new organizational setting are symptoms of navigating discomfort.

Discomfort and dissonance should not just be the forte of the new or inexperienced, though. In order to provide space for innovation and progress, to challenge the status quo, it is important for us to consciously make ourselves uncomfortable as professionals. We must take the one extra step into uncharted territory so we can begin to apply our talents and experiences to chart a new course.

So if you find yourself getting too comfortable, realize that you’re just dulling your senses and missing out on the opportunity to be in front of whatever is coming around the corner next. Seek out the dissonance, heighten your senses, explore beyond yourself, and find optimal dissonance.

How do you try to embrace challenges to provide growth in your personal and professional life?