June 6, 2013 by Chris Buddle

How I traded field biology for a desk job

As I was looking at my summer schedule, it occurred to me that my time out in the field (here defined as outside, collecting data, probably wearing zip-off pants and carrying a field book, insect net and a set of vials) has been getting less and less, every year. As a PhD student I spent most of my summer collecting data. I loved it – the rugged joys of bumpy back-roads in Alberta, the sticky and smelly combination of sweat and bug spray, the cold beer at the end of a long field day. As I moved on to a post-doc in Ohio, I still spent a lot of time collecting spiders in soybean fields, helping other graduate students in the field, although the summers also included some lab work, and substantial time writing manuscripts.

When starting at McGill over 10 years ago, I kick-started my research program by spending weeks in the field, and seemed to manage a lot of time with each of my graduate students during the field season. However, time in the field was measured as weeks, and not months. Now, as I look at my schedule, I’m “maybe” going to get one full week in the field this summer, and a fews days here and there helping with other projects going on in the lab. My time doing field work, actively collecting data, is minimal.

Deep thoughts: field work in the Arctic. Are these days long gone…?

Wait a second. One reason I got into this business was because I like to figure out neat stuff about nature, while being in nature. As a child, I always enjoyed being ‘in the field‘ (this is also known as ‘playing outside‘) and wanted to continue this as an adult. What happened?

Academics in my discipline of study (let’s call it ‘field ecology‘) and at my career stage (i.e., some years into the job) spend relatively little time in the field and the bulk of their time is a desk job, click-click-clicking away on a keyboard. Staring at a monitor. I know there are exceptions (and BIG congratulations on those of you who do manage to get outside to collect data, regularly!), but when I look around to my colleagues, most of them spend more looking out a window instead of being out that window. The time gets chewed up by other (important) priorities: grant writing, editing manuscripts, writing manuscripts, answering emails, reading papers, attending meetings, chairing meetings, going to conferences, preparing talks for those conferences, writing lectures, delivering lectures and so on. These are all the current demands on our time, and they are the things that the job requires! (for other relevant discussions about this, have a peek at this post by Sarah Boon, and I’ve previously written about how I spend my time).

Bottom line: most of my work duties are indoor activities. I am fortunate in that some of my teaching occurs outside, but that is not the norm. The other thing that happens is ‘life’ – time with family is important to me, and time away from family is difficult. One reason I’ve spent less weeks away is because it’s tough on all of us and I like being around when the kids are growing up. There’s also that thing called a vacation – Academics typically their vacation time during the summer. (related to this is a post over at Dynamic Ecology titled “how often do you travel”, by Meg Duffy)

That is how I have traded field biology for a desk job.

I’m not alone: here are some responses from folks on Twitter when I asked about their experiences, and whether they have traded field biology for a desk job:

This is not a lament; this is not a sob story. In fact, perhaps many of us are OK with this transition from field biologist to ‘research manager’:

There is an important message here for people moving up through the Academic system: current PhD and MSc students need to recognize that the idea of landing an Academic job that gets you ‘out in the field’ a lot is probably a pipe dream.

I’ll end with some optimism: Even though things have changed, I think I can still call myself a ’field ecologist’ and here’s why:

1) “Field Trips” can be short. It’s possible to capture an hour outside over lunch and collect data on Agelenopsis spiders in a hedge near the picnic table, or stop off at a bird banding station in the AM before work, or swing by a forest to check a pitfall trap on the way home. I have come to realize that field work need not be ‘weeks away’. In many cases, it’s worth starting up a project that takes you outside regularly, at a local field site. This makes the field work an easier part of the day and you don’t need to schedule weeks away (nor will you need to schedule it months in advance). Keeping it simple, and keeping in manageable is important for me, given the other constraints on time.

2) Trade-offs: I spend time in the field instead of attending a lot of conferences. I have always enjoyed going to scientific conferences, but given the difficulties in getting away for extended periods of time, I realized that I could do field work, or attend conferences, but doing both is not always possible. One of my academic mentors discussed this with me soon after I had started my job at McGill (ironically, at a conference!); he said that when the weather is good, time was better spent collecting flies rather than sitting in a hotel basement. Good point. (By the way, summer-conference are kind of annoying because of this conflict!). Networking at conferences is very valuable, but that face-to-face networking may not be as essential later in a career. Thanks to social media, it’s also possible to attend conferences virtually.

3) Live vicariously through students: My thoughts about field work are somewhat nostalgic and dreamy, and I forget about the problems. I forget about the flat tires, encounters with bears, the biting flies, and the exhaustion. I’m reminded of these things when my graduate students come back from the field, and sometimes I am happy I wasn’t with them. I can, instead, spend a day or two with them in the field, troubleshoot, help but not have to suffer through it all. I’m a ‘gentleman field biologist’ now. Is that lame? Is that pathetic? Nope. I’ve put in my time and can now have my field trips field with all the fun parts and less of the annoying parts.

4) Mixing vacations with field biology: I’ve not been all that successful at this, but I do know colleagues who manage to mix extended vacation time with field work. I do this on a smaller scale, and it typically includes carrying vials along with every trip, whether it is to the family cottage, or just a walk in the local forest. I’m always after records of pseudoscorpions, and have managed some nice finds while on vacation. My family does, however, gives me strange looks when I go chasing after spiders or butterflies during lunch break while on a road trip. I can handle the ridicule –> it’s for science!

Although I have largely traded field work for a desk job, there are still glimmers of exciting field work, and still opportunities to get outside and be reminded of the reasons why I originally got into this line of work. I am not depressed or sad about my desk job – I have the best job in the world, despite the the fact that I stare out the window and sometimes dream of field work. I also maintain that these things come in cycles – a few years ago I was away for a few weeks in the field, even if this year is less intensive. It’ll come around again, and perhaps I will write a post in the future that discusses how it’s possible to be a gritty, smelly, rough and tough field biologist again. For now, though, I must stop typing. It’s hard work and my fingers are a little sore.

May 16, 2013 by Chris Buddle

Landing an tenure track job in entomology: perfecting the practice of academic kung fu

This is re-posted from the Entomological Society of Canada’s blog, and is written by Chris Buddle (McGill University) and Dezene Huber (University of Northern British Columbia)

Last autumn there was quite an interesting discussion on twitter among some entomologists in Canada about the ‘job search’ – more specifically focused on the process of seeking tenure-track academic appointments. Many of us shared our sob stories, and although the time, place and characters varied, the common element was REJECTION. Those of us who currently are lucky enough to hold faculty appointments remember the rejection to success ratio, and some of us still have stacks of rejection letters. While most of us really enjoyed the academic freedom that came with working as a postdoc, the job-search process was more often than not discouraging and deflating, and a really difficult time in our lives.

Towards the end of the PhD program, most of us are riding high – our papers are getting published, we are truly ‘experts’ in our fields of study, we are being congratulated, buoyed by our peers and mentors, and we are ready to take on the world. We found ways to get a post-doc and perhaps traveled to a different country for additional experience, with a sense of hope, optimism, and enthusiasm for the next stage of our careers.

Then, like the world supply of helium, our hopes were quickly diminished.

“I will easily get a job interview at THAT University”.

Nope. Not even an interview.

“Perfect – that job advertisement was MADE for me – they will hire me. It’s a perfect fit”.

Nope. A mass e-mail rejection letter instead.

“I’m the GREATEST in my field of study. Universities will be asking me to apply”

Nope. That never happens.

”I’m sure that I’ll be seriously considered for this position”

Nope. The rejection letter came back saying that there were more than 400 applicants for the position.

“Even if I don’t get the job, I’ll be able to get feedback from someone on the committee.”

Nope. It’s highly unlikely that, among the 400 applicants, anyone on the committee even remembers you.

There are really two ways to look at this. It is possible to get discouraged and frustrated, and give up hope OR it’s possible to see that persistence can pay off and eventually the right job will come along, and you will be competitive. Sure, the opportunities have to be there, but that kind of timing and ‘luck’ isn’t something you can control.

Here are a few pointers that will hopefully help you think about that tenure-track job search, and give you a sense of optimism:

It will take a huge dose of patience and persistence, but there ARE tenure-track jobs out there for people with Entomological interests, even in Canada. Recently, Manitoba hired an entomologist, and University of Ottawa just hired an assistant professor on the evolution of plant-pollinator interactions.

University professors do eventually retire! (…Although it needs to be noted that the reality in the current economy is that their positions are not always replaced)

You don’t have to restrict your options to only University positions. We know of faculty members who worked in private companies, or in government, and made a lateral transfer, eventually, to academia. Your holy grail may be a tenure-track job, but other opportunities are equally rewarding and could eventually get you a tenure-track job. Or you may find that life “beyond the ivory tower” is much to your liking anyhow. In fact, you may be interested in the advice column at Chronicle.com by that very name.

Be creative with your CV. There are relatively few jobs for entomologists, sensu stricto, but there are jobs for evolutionary biologists, ecologists, or other more ‘general’ disciplines (Look: you can apply for a term position in biology at St Mary’s!) Re-work your cover letters and CV to reflect your potential in these jobs, and that you use insects as ‘model organisms’. And always tailor your cover letter and CV to any job for which you apply. Don’t just send in the same material to every search committee. Search committees are looking for that elusive thing that we call “fit.”

Keep your eye on the ball: to get that coveted university position, the peer-reviewed publication remains the MOST IMPORTANT item on your CV. Publish, publish, publish. During this stage of your career, keep the focus on that part of the research process. In particular, enjoy the fact that, as a postdoc, you are relatively free to conduct research and publish without many of the other responsibilities (e.g., teaching, administration) that will come with a tenure-track post.

Be realistic. If a job ad states that the committee is looking for an acarologist specializing in the mites of toucans, and you are an acarologist who studies toucan mites, then you have a good chance of landing an interview. If the job ad asks for a “terrestrial ecologist working at any scale from microbial to landscape” and you fit somewhere in there, chances are so do a few hundred other recent graduates.

When you see something that looks potentially appropriate for you, apply. Rejection is painful but costs nothing; not applying to something that might have worked out is doubly painful. People who have agreed to write you letters of recommendation will be patient with you (if they are not, perhaps they are not the right people to give you a letter…?)

Have another postdoc or your mentor read through your application material. Chances are your mentor has been on a few search committees and can give you useful tips.

Every time you apply for a job, consider it a chance to improve your application material.

When you do land an interview, prepare for it like there’s no tomorrow. You are a researcher, do your best to figure out everything that you possibly can about the department to which you are applying and, even more, the personalities that make up that department. Once you get an interview, this means your CV is strong enough, and the job interview is about the ‘fit’.

OK, to be fair, there are other tricks to success in academia.

Landing an academic position is not always going to be in the cards for everyone. It is best to have alternate plans so that you don’t get stuck in the so-called postdoctoral holding pattern for years and years. At least one of us (DH) committed to himself to start to explore alternate options at the five year mark after walking the convocation stage. Have a plan B. Your Plan B might actually turn out better than your Plan A in the end.

Rejection in terms of tenure-track jobs is really just a warm-up to the continual sense of rejection you will feel if you do end up working as a Professor. You might as well get used to it. This is not a statement to bring on doom and gloom: it’s the reality. You must develop broad shoulders.

Rejection is a fundamental and core part of the academic life: The publication process is becoming so difficult that you can pretty much assume that your paper will get rejected the first few times around (check out this paper about rejection rates…). Funding agencies are cash-strapped, and it’s getting harder and harder to find ways to fund research projects. High caliber graduate students will ‘shop around’ for the best graduate program, and will often reject your laboratory. Be a practitioner of academic kung fu – use the weight of rejection against rejection itself by learning from it and applying it to your next attempt.

Depressed yet?

Don’t be. A tenure track has so many advantages, and these far outweigh the annoying stream of rejections. And the other options available to a bright, young researcher are often as appealing (and usually pay more) than being on the tenure track anyhow. ..but that’s a topic for another post.

May 2, 2013 by Chris Buddle

A Paradigm Shift: How universities can support effective outreach

This post is written by Chris Buddle, Associate Professor at McGill University. Click here for contact information, or follow on twitter.

On Wednesday, COMPASS published a commentary in PLOS Biology on the journey from science outreach to meaningful engagement. This post is part of a series of reactions, reflections, and personal experiences we hope will expand the conversation. Read the summary post here, or track the conversation by searching for #reachingoutsci

I really enjoyed the article by Smith et al. – it presents a clear rationale for why effective science communication is so important, and it discusses some of the key issues, including the need for the right kind of training and right kind of institutional support. This quote from the article really struck me, and I think it gets to the heart of the issue:

“Academic institutions and tenure committees must measure and reward time and effort devoted to outreach. And that, we’re keenly aware, will require dedicated leadership and collective effort to change the culture of science”

Good, but how? Without answering the ‘how’ we will struggle to get further ahead. I realize that individuals must lead the charge in doing and valuing outreach activities, but in addition to this bottom-up movement, there must be top-down support, training and direction from Universities. This is especially relevant for the Academics who may be keen to do outreach, but whose institutions don’t support this endeavor in a direct manner. So, to achieve a broad, more global acceptance of outreach activities, Academic institutions have some important things to do, and in this post I will explore these.

I will also expand the discussion beyond ‘scientific communication’ to ‘outreach‘ more broadly defined. Outreach is a term that includes the type of effective communication discussed by Smith et al., but also includes other outreach activities that I see among my colleagues - it could be sharing knowledge with local elementary schools, writing blogs or articles in the local newspaper, to organizing nature walks and delivering public lectures.

Outreach just doesn’t fit easily into the typical and traditional parts of an Academic’s job. Academics are incentive-driven, and the currency of Academia remains the peer-reviewed publications, effective teaching and some form of service. The latter category is a catch-all for various committees, involvement with scholarly societies, editorial work, and anything else that doesn’t fit into teaching and research. What about outreach? Is it service? Outreach is certainly at the intersection of research and service, but can also be part of teaching (e.g., social media as a way to take the classroom beyond the walls of the institution…). A while ago I tracked my own work hours, I didn’t include writing my blog as part of the hours – I just wasn’t sure how to categorize outreach activities, nor did I feel that my institution would necessarily see outreach as a core duty. And that is the crux of the problem.

How can Academic institutions incentivize and value outreach activities?

1) Academics who do high quality outreach activities should get paid more. Promotion and salary increases should be tied to the level, but more importantly, the quality of outreach activities done by Academics. Those who do not engage with a broader audience about their work would not be eligible for full pay raises. Extreme? Perhaps so… but I suspect it would work. This does not mean the quality of the research will decrease, nor does this imply any kind of shot-gun approach to outreach will work. In fact, a measured and careful strategy with outreach is required, as Simon Donner argues in his excellent post. And, of course, the research upon which the outreach is built must be strong and high quality – we cannot give up research excellence for outreach – they must go hand in hand. If outreach is tied to pay raises, this raises the question of evaluating these kinds of activities. How do you measure amount and quality of outreach? This is incredibly difficult (“hey, I got 500 hits on my blog – I guess I’ll get promotion to full professor now!”). A reasonable Chair or Dean may be able to judge effective outreach, and the onus would certainly be on the Academics to make their case about their outreach activities; after all, we do this already, all the time. We need to justify journal choice, our level of funding, why we may or may not have a certain number of graduate students, etc. Adding commentary about how much outreach we do could be included in the mix. There could be a system by which an Academic is only considered for a certain level of a raise if s/he can provide evidence of high quality outreach activities. Judging this quality will be difficult, and will certainly require some deep conversations about what kinds of outreach activities are valuable, and why.

2) Institutions need to make effective outreach activities a part of their institutional culture. Home Depot, for example, includes ‘giving back to the community‘ as one of its core value, and people working at Home Depot go out, as a community, to help build homes for people in need. Almost all Universities have mission statements that include words about ‘service to communities’ (not convinced? Check out a few – here’s the one for McGill) but by in large, Academics don’t do this on a regular basis, and in most cases it’s certainly not a requirement of the job! Institutions must work to build outreach directly into their culture and this must include active and direct participation by Academics – the people who are doing the research need to be in the community giving mini-workshops, talking to the general public, writing articles for the local press, and writing blogs that explain their work in a manner that is accessible to a broad audience. Universities can help facilitate this with effective marketing about outreach activities, highlight the ways their researchers are engaging with the public, and making it clear how Academic staff are really working with the mission statement in mind. I do recognize that some of this is already done, but I am arguing that it could be done more broadly and better integrated into all facets of the institution. As mentioned above, this could be a reality if pay raises were linked to outreach activities…

3) Coordination: Academics cannot do outreach in isolation. The article by Smith et al. does point to the incredible value of COMPASS and how that framework can bring people together, and can be a true collaboration in all the rights ways. However, this also has to happen at a more local level, and I find that outreach activities tend to be done in a haphazard manner at Universities. There is often a lack of co-ordination between media offices from different parts of the University, among researchers, and between researchers and media offices. Most Academics don’t do any outreach. Of those that do, a few might be in regular communication with a media office, but many ‘go it alone’ and independently engage some outside organization, journalist, or write their own blog and publicize work without support or without much attention to the subtleties or nuances of the process. This is certainly what I do, and although it’s been fun, validating and a positive experience, I don’t have the training, nor do I really know if what I’m doing is correct ! Media office, despite their best intentions, may not always get the story right and/or may not get the required materials from the researchers. Despite a willingness and interest for effective outreach from different arms of institutions, a lack of coordination means work is being duplicated, and stories are missed. A solution? Media relations offices at Universities should spend as much time with ‘internal’ media and communication as with ‘external communication’ with journalists or other news media. There must be an easy and clear process by which Academics can communicate laterally within their institutions. Media offices must effectively aggregate the various blogs, research findings, big grant winners and Academics must have a willingness to engage with these media offices, provide them content and access. One way to make this process much, much easier is through the use of plain language summaries.

4) Write and speak in plain language. Institutions, publishers, and peers need to demand plain language summaries for all research papers. We are used to writing abstracts; we also need to write plain language summaries. I’ve written about this before, and I am trying to write plain language summaries of my papers (e.g., see here and here for examples). This has been a very interesting process, and what has been especially useful about these summaries is that they have provide me an easy way to talk to my media office, students, my family, and peers about my work. These summaries have forced me to think about the broader meaning and impact of my research. It’s forced me to think beyond ‘I’m doing this research because little is known on the topic‘ and clarify the meaning behind the work – the broader framework. I think this is the start of effective outreach. I have worked with a few other authors on plain language summaries, and what has become clear is that these are not easy to write, and require a different set of writing skills. Training is required to help Academics write in plain language.

5) Institutions must require communication workshops for all Academics. When I first started my job, I attended a lot of workshops, and the topics included things like ‘how to prepare a course outline’, ‘research ethics’, ‘the tenure process’, etc. Communication courses must be part of this mix, and a requirement of the job should be training in communication and outreach. As Smith et al. point out, we lack training – some of us can write in a jargon-free way, and are happy to put together a talk for a local naturalist club, and are willing to speak to journalists: many of us don’t know how to do this, don’t know where to start, are afraid to take the leap, or have done things badly and are perhaps nervous about outreach activities. We’ve been trained to write research papers; we’ve not been trained to write in other ways, or in language that is more accessible to a broader audience. We’ve been trained to give specialized talks at conferences, or to speak to undergraduate students in a familiar lecture hall. Many of us don’t know how to put together a presentation to a room full of school kids. We need help, and our institutions need to provide quality training opportunities, and ensure Academics take advantage of the opportunities.

A key issue, and one that is pointed out by Smith et al., is that Academics don’t have the time to do outreach activities. We are pushed and pulled in various directions, and it’s hard to juggle the regular and required part of our jobs, so how can anyone rightfully argue that we must also include communication of our research to a broader audience? Jessica Hellmann talks about this in her lovely post about science communication and outreach. There’s no denying that it’s a chronic problem, and there’s no easy solution. However, finding ways to dovetail the research with outreach can lead to efficiencies, new collaborations, and new ways of doing things. Smith et al. do discuss the value-added that can come from outreach.

The chronic time issue is exactly why outreach MUST be incentivized, and why institutional cultures must shift to require, accept, and reward effective outreach activities. This will have to happen from the top-down and the bottom-up. University Principals need to make it clear that their institutions are truly at the service of the larger community in which they reside and live. From a bottom-up perspective, individual Academics need to buy into the idea of effective outreach, and may need a nudge here and there to make it happen, and be fully supported in these endeavours. But it can happen! Universities can change, over time, and they have the skills and the people to make it work.

It is also very timely to be thinking seriously about how Academic institutions re-think outreach activities - the place of Universities in today’s society is being questioned, and effective outreach is one way to help ensure that everyone sees what we do, and why. How our work relates to policy, government priorities, our environment; how we are working to understand climate change, fight against persecution of the poorest members of our society and how are working to understand global health issues. The list goes one. Donors will be more willing to give money if they really had a clear handle on what Academics do and why. Media offices could do a better job of promoting our Universities if they had access to a all Academics who are engaged with outreach Activities.

To finish: Smith et al.’s paper was optimistic, exciting, and a truly great contribution to the discussion about science communication. What I worry about is that we must move beyond this article to some clear ways that institutions can properly incentivize and support outreach articles. I hope these ideas (and others) are discussed, debated and that institutions can move towards a new paradigm that includes effective outreach.

If we can figure this out, we’ll all win.

A special thanks to Elena Bennett for reading over and helping me with an earlier draft of this post.

Reference:

Smith B, Baron N, English C, Galindo H, Goldman E, et al. (2013) COMPASS: Navigating the Rules of Scientific Engagement. PLoS Biol 11(4): e1001552. doi:10.1371/journal.pbio.1001552

March 20, 2013 by Chris Buddle

Ten tips when asking for a letter of recommendation

Academics get asked to write a lot of letters of recommendations, and we are pleased to do this! Letters of recommendations can be really, really important when students are applying to grad school, or applying for scholarships. Strong letters can make a big difference, and that means it’s essential that students approach this with seriousness, maturity and professionalism.

When asking for a letter of recommendation, here are ten things to do, more or less in chronological order:

1) Plan ahead: Ask for letters well ahead of the deadline! Never, never assume your Professor will have the time or inclination to write a strong letter if the deadline is two days away. Give lots of advance warning (at least several weeks).

2) Ask nicely. Approach your Professor (in person, if possible; with a telephone call, or over email), explain what you are applying for (and why), and ask whether s/he might be willing to write you a letter of support.

3) Ask what kind of letter you might get! You need to know whether it’ll be a strong letter, or one that is perhaps less in-depth. In many cases, if I’ve only met a student in one class, and only have a grade to base a letter on, then I won’t be able to write a strong letter. You deserve to know this, and it may affect whether or not you should ask someone else. Don’t worry – most Academics are able to be honest (and nice) about what kind of letter they might be able to write. You must find out, early on, so that your chances of success are as high as possible.

4) rite gud. In all correspondence with the person who is writing a letter for you, ensure there are no grammatical or spelling errors. Be professional, respect credentials (e.g., don’t start with Hey prof Dude….), and make sure what you write is readable. Avoid common writing mistakes. This makes a big difference. Sloppy writing, poor grammar and spelling mistakes make me think less of a candidate and will affect the strength of a letter.

5) Include ALL the relevant details, in one well-composed e-mail:

a) What you are applying for (in appropriate detail – don’t just say “I’m applying to do a Master’s in Biology”)

b) When you don’t know your Prof. all that well, remind them who you are: it is helpful to state what course(s) you might have taken with the Professor, in what context, how you did in the class, and anything else to help those old minds recall who you are!. You may think that your instructors remember you well, but this is not always the case (we see hundreds of students each year, and we are all getting older…),

c) Provide a ‘statement of interest’ to give some context to why you are applying for a particular position or scholarship,

d) Provide an informal transcript, or at least your GPA so your Prof doesn’t have to ask for this later, and possibly your CV.

e) Provide the deadline for the letter! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to email a student to ask them what the deadline is. It’s annoying having to deal with email overload, especially when it is avoidable.

f) If there are PDF fillable forms, or web-links for the reference, make sure to include these!

g) if the Professor is going to get an e-mail from an Institution to which you are applying, make it clear that they should expect this.

6) Follow-up! If you haven’t heard anything within a week of when you sent your one e-mail, stop by the Prof.’s office, or give a phone call, to make sure that s/he received the details.

7) Make it easy: Always make the process of writing a letter of recommendation as easy as possible. In many cases PDF fillable forms have parts that are to be filled out the by candidate ahead of time – do this! For hard copies, make sure to fill in parts that you are supposed to, and always include a stamped envelope with the address written out. It’s YOUR job to ensure the letter gets sent by the Professor, and you don’t want their Department to have to pay for postage! If you are required to pick up the letter and send it in as an entire application package, provide two envelopes – one for their confidential letter, and another that they can slip the official envelope into – arrange a system by which you can pick up the letter.

8) Send a reminder... A few days before the deadline, send ONE reminder e-mail – politely remind your Professor that the deadline is approaching. For me, this is absolutely critical! I am usually aware of the need to write a letter for a student (it’ll be in my ‘to-do’ list), but that little reminder will stir me into action.

9) Say ‘Thank you’ – It is classy and professional to say thanks to whoever writes letters of recommendation for you. If your application ends up being successful, or you get that scholarship, you can even send a post-card, or a short thank-you letter (yes, in the mail!) – that leaves a very positive and lasting impression (and you never know when you will need another letter…). As a minimum, send a short ‘thank you’ email.

10) um, sorry, I don’t actually have a tenth tip. Except, perhaps, be sure to follow the nine that are written above! (maybe you have a tenth?)

…I hope this helps!

Students: you will get a better letter if you follow the tips.

March 13, 2013 by Chris Buddle

Teaching Innovation: Opportunities and Challenges

I just returned from a terrific visit to the UK – part vacation with my family, and part work. The work part included a trip to University of Hull, to visit with my colleague Dr. Graham Scott (you may recognize his name as he visited McGill almost a year ago). Graham and his Bioscience Education Group have an impressive track record of publishing about teaching in Higher Education, including papers about the value of field work in University.

I gave a seminar in the Biology Department at Hull about the use of social media and mobile technology in a field course I teach (St Lawrence Ecosystems), and I had plenty of time to discuss with Graham and his colleagues about teaching and the ways to improve teaching. In this post, I wanted to reflect a little bit about some of the ideas that resonated strongly as I visited Hull.

My souvenir from Univ. Hull - a wool scarf. It'll remind me of pedagogy and that's a good thing.

My souvenir from Univ. Hull – an official wool scarf. It’ll remind me of pedagogy and that’s a good thing.

1. It is important to talk about teaching. Academics are very used to talking about our research, but we seldom get a chance to reflect in detail upon our own teaching. When agreeing to give a seminar about my teaching, this caused me to seriously consider why I adopt specific strategies with my teaching, and whether or not these strategies actually work (i.e., impact learning!). This presented many challenges, especially because I sometimes don’t fully know why I selected certain teaching strategies, and I began to recognize that some of my own teaching strategies come from trial and error. A solution to this is my second point of reflection:

2. I should be reading the education literature. Graham is deeply involved with pedagogy and publishes often in the education literature. When discussing teaching ideas with him, he would often tell me how that particular idea was well discussed in paper X, Y, or Z. It takes a lot of energy to change teaching approaches and strategies, and it takes a lot of risk – things just might not work and this has real and important consequences for students, and for the instructor. Reading the education literature could help to avoid reinventing the wheel, and also help guide the development of teaching strategies. I’m going to try to find a bit of time to get into this literature – I am sure it will be time well spent.

3. Teaching innovations cross disciplines. This seems obvious, but I think it’s easy to forget that we can learn a great deal about teaching from colleagues from very different background and disciplines. I had lunch with a microbiologist from Hull and she told me about her use of short, weekly, private ‘blogs’ from students. She used these reflective blogs as one way to assess how students were getting along with content, and as a way for students to benchmark their course goals (and whether or not they met their goals). These short posts were a great idea for her to assess whether students were on track in the course, how they were handling the course material, and whether her expectations were reasonable. This great idea did not depend on discipline. Another good reason to embrace interdisciplinarity.

4. My challenges are common challenges. It was incredible to see that despite different systems between the UK and Canada, different undergraduate programs, and an entirely different context, the challenges of teaching remain similar. It’s comforting to know that everyone struggles with finding the right way to assess students with large classes without depending on multiple choice exams, or how to help students improve writing skills, or how to convince administrators that there is value to field biology courses. So many challenges are shared, and we can learn a great deal from each other…all the more reason to talk about teaching more often, both within our own institutions and among institutions.

5. We must find systems that enable Academics to work on innovative teaching ideas. There are numerous, excellent arguments for Academics to work on teaching innovation, but it’s not entirely clear how to go about this. Many institutions have “teaching and learning” units that help Professors with strategies to improve teaching, but many of the workshops or services offered by these units are short in duration, and don’t typically involve deeper projects about pedagogy. A secondment at a “teaching and learning” unit might be a good idea but this would only be possible if an Academic on such a secondment was given relief from other duties (e.g., applying for research grants, or administrative duties). Alternatively, it is possible to devote a sabbatical to pedagogy, but this would require a culture shift since sabbaticals are most often linked to research interests that don’t normally involve pedagogy. I do believe strongly that taking ‘real’ time to improve teaching would be valuable, but I will be honest in saying that I don’t see a clear path forward with this. Ideas are welcome.

In sum, my visit with Graham Scott and colleagues offered a chance to reflect on teaching, discuss teaching, and allowed time to really think about the opportunities and challenges when considering different ways to modify and hopefully improve my own teaching. I sincerely thank Graham Scott and his colleagues at Hull for being an inspiration, and a model.

Let’s keep the discussion going, and please share your thoughts.

February 27, 2013 by Chris Buddle

How “professional baggage” may be a key barrier in changing how we teach

A little while ago, a colleague in the UK sent me this article (via twitter, of course!): “Barriers to Faculty Pedagogical Change: Lack of Training, Time, Incentives, and…Tensions with Professional Identity?” by Brownell and Tanner. He knew I’d be interested – I’m always experimenting with my own teaching, but I’m also aware that I’m in the minority.

The article starts by making an excellent argument that we KNOW how to improve teaching at Universities, but little change takes place regardless. Brownell and Tanner make the argument that barriers to Professors wanting to improve their teaching are often related to lack of training, lack of time, or lack of incentives. This fits with my impression of Academia, especially at a research-intensive University such as McGill. When I arrived over 10 years ago, I had little training as a teacher (other than a couple of short workshops), I had little time to devote to teaching improvement (I was barely ever one lecture ahead of the students!), and I was mostly encouraged to concentrate on developing my research program. There were not a lot of incentives to foster, improve, or change my teaching approach. I don’t blame anyone for this, nor am I bitter about my experience. It was the norm, and perhaps still is for most tenure-track Professors at a University with a significant research focus. So, as I began reading Bronwell and Tanner’s paper, it resonated, and I agreed that training, time and incentives were key barriers to changing pedagogy.

Brownell and Tanner, however, ask a clever question: if we imagined those three barriers gone, would we see immediate improvements in teaching? Would Professors suddenly value pedagogy and teaching improvement differently, and find ways to change their approach to the classroom? Perhaps not – and this is where the article gets interesting.

The article focuses on “Professional Identity” as being a key barrier to improved teaching, but one that is often understudied and underappreciated. They define professional identity to be the following: “how they [scientists] view themselves and their work in the context of their disciplines and how they accrue status among their professional colleagues as academic scientists”. In other words, it’s the process related to the way that we become an expert in our discipline – the culture, the context, and the training we receive. It’s the intangible as well as the tangible things that become our professional baggage. Brownell and Tanner argue that, for many scientists, we learn early in our careers to value research over teaching, and there is (for the most part) a greater emphasis placed on developing our research profile. There is often time and incentives to do some teaching (e.g., Teaching Assistantships are paid, and have hours associated with them), and there is training available (McGill’s SKILLSETS programs are a fine example). Regardless, the culture of science is mostly related to research and we are ultimately judged on research production rather than teaching. My personal experience supports this idea, and I have found myself often discussing this with my graduate students – I sometimes have advised them to avoid extra teaching responsibilities if it is going to slow down their research productivity.

Brownell and Tanner go into a lot of detail about the tensions between the development of professional identities and participating in pedagogical change. They make a very strong case: among several lines of arguments, they illustrate that scientists are often afraid to change their teaching approach for fear that it may be frowned upon by their peers, or that their teaching evaluations might suffer (and, in in the short term, this may be true). They also argue that the scientific culture, at large, places a lower value on teaching than on research, and it’s hard to overcome this.

The article finishes with some ideas for change: “we need to find ways to challenge the assumption that a scientist’s professional identity should be primarily research-focused and consider ways in which teaching could become more integrated into the fabric of the discipline“. The authors suggest 1) graduate student and post-doctoral training goals need to be broadened, 2) scientific journals should include/value papers and research related to education, 3) scientific conferences should better integrate education into the (typical) research focus. These are intriguing, thought-provoking, and interesting ideas. But are they enough to shed some of our professional baggage? I’m a bit skeptical, but I do agree that some pretty fundamental paradigm shifts are required if we want to shake up the system, and see Professors placing higher value on teaching improvement.

Reference:

Brownell, S.E. & K.D. Tanner 2012. Barriers to Faculty Pedagogical Change: Lack of Training, Time, Incentives, and…Tensions with Professional Identity? CBE – Life Sciences Education. 11: 339-346 doi: 10.1187/cbe.12-09-0163

February 22, 2013 by Chris Buddle

Why care about Higher Education? (Quebec, please listen)

I don’t usually get political with my blog but this issue of Higher Education in Quebec is too important to sit back passively. The Provincial Government of Quebec is imposing budget cuts to Universities, and the manner in which these cuts are being imposed is irresponsible, disrespectful, and the demands are untenable. As is discussed by my Principal in her letter to the McGill community, Universities are expected to cut budgets before the end of this fiscal year (an unprecedented challenge), and this was only brought forward in December. No institution in its right mind would change the course of budgets mid-way through a fiscal year.

This makes me angry and frustrated because the cuts will affect people and will affect the ways we do our jobs. They will affect livelihoods, morale, and they will affect services to students. Universities in Quebec will struggle with recruitment of students and professors, and struggle with retention. These budget cuts will have wide-ranging and long-term consequence for Higher Education in Quebec.

It’s time to reflect on the important question that is at the heart of this discussion:

Why care about Higher Education?

Caveats: this list is not exhaustive, and it is certainly not complete. These are my opinions, and I do not have expertise with all of the points I have raised – rather, they are my observations, ideas and are based upon my experience working at McGill for over 10 years. Please share, add to the ideas, and comment.

1. Creating Leaders: My institution is helping in the process of educating creative thinkers, good communicators, and global citizens. Our society need people with these characteristics as we move towards a difficult and uncertain future – a future with wide ranging environmental problems; a future with strife and conflict; a future with much economic uncertainty. We need young people to become leaders, and regardless of their discipline (biology, economics, physics, etc) the individuals coming out of my institution will become these leaders. We cannot turn our back on our students – we have a responsibility to continue to create and support a positive environment of higher education that will help train the the decision-makers of the future. At our doorstep are complex problems that need individuals with creativity, curiosity, imagination and motivation – the sorts of characteristics that I see in the students in my lectures and in the students in my laboratory.

2. Creating Communities: I work at a small campus that has a broad reach. Some examples: we have an Apiculture association that is developing workshops about beekeeping – an art and a science that we must understand and foster as we recognize the value of pollination for the food we eat. We have a working farm – a farm that invites school kids from the local area in to see the process of farming: work that is often rural and less accessible to people living in cities. Professors in my Faculty give seminars about their work and invite anyone with an interest to come and listen to how we are working to solve global problems. Higher Education is more valuable now that it has ever been in the past. Universities are becoming places with a focus and appreciation for outreach – outreach into our communities – our surrounding towns, schools, and community centres. Universities are more than lecture halls filled with students. Universities are more than Professors talking to each other and writing research papers for their peers. Universities are part of fabric of our communities and integral to the well-being of our communities.

3. Creating Knowledge: The beauty of higher education institutions is that they provide a home for the creation and dissemination of knowledge, and a kind of knowledge that can be gained from the intangible, the curious and from the process of reflection. Although funding systems have changed, the job of a tenure-track Academic is stressful, and we are busy, I still think that most academics have some freedom and a bit of time in their jobs that allow for that pure and amazing process of ‘thinking about neat stuff‘. Knowledge is dynamic, and knowledge is a product of the times we live in. Knowledge cannot be generated with cookie-cutter approaches or prescriptive top-down directives – my University still allows some flexibility and freedom to engage in the process of creating knowledge. That’s a very, very good thing.

4. Creating Friendships: I have coffee with colleagues who have become my friends. I see my Departmental administrative assistants every day – we talk about how the hockey practices went over the weekend – we talk about the local ski trails. We discuss the fun and frustrating things that happen in our lives. Students move through the system, but some become friends over time. Students who have long graduated have come back to say hello – we talk about what they are doing now, and about how their little brother is going to come to University because he has heard so many great things about the place. We discuss how they see the world after graduation, and talk of dreams and ambitions. Like any good workplace, my Department is more than faces and names – my Department is about people and about friendships. This is what happens inside the building and in the hallways of Universities. Expanding this - my University supports lives – it supports my family and the families of my friends at my workplace.

5. Creating Economies: There are strong economic arguments about the value of Universities to the economies of the region and province and country in which they operate. Students rent apartments and buy groceries, employees of McGill travel to conferences, and pay for taxis to and from the airport. We cater meetings, and drink a lot of coffee. We get business cards printed, we need to buy paper, computers and phones. Universities help make small, local businesses become successful. On a bigger scale, our research programs are catalysts for larger economies in our cities and in our province, whether they be advances in medicine or solutions to global food security. Graduates from our Universities go on to become lawyers, CEOs, and they build businesses and create opportunities for thousands. Universities support and create economies – big and small.

Yes, higher education is about creating great things that are much bigger than the footprint of the buildings we work in. Higher Education has values that are far beyond the curriculum and far beyond esoteric, and intellectual pursuits.

To the Parti Québécois: making rash, and ill-thought decisions about funding to Universities is a serious mistake. I urge you to step back, reflect, and move carefully with rethinking the budgets of Universities. As my Provost stated, your economic approach is an assault on higher education, and this is truly alarming.

To my colleagues, my students, my friends: please speak up. Please raise your voice and be heard. Let us stand together as a community (this is starting). Let us ensure higher education remains a central part of Quebec. May we continue to create great things.

There is an upcoming summit about the future of Higher Education in Quebec. I sincerely hope that part of the discussion can reflect on the bigger question about the value of Higher Education in this exceptional and incredible province.

February 11, 2013 by Chris Buddle

Why Professors can’t relax (even if it will make us more productive)

This past weekend, as I was struggling to get some work done on a Sunday morning, I read Tony Schwartz’s opinion piece in the New York Times, titled “Relax! You’ll be more productive“.

I read it with curiosity and amusement. I also discussed it with my wife, had a few discussions with people over twitter, and the more I thought about it, the more I decided it warranted a bit of a rant, and required placing Schwartz’s piece in the context of Academia.

Schwartz points out that “Human beings aren’t designed to expend energy continuously“, and we can be more productive (i.e., in the sense of doing work well) if we were able to find time to chill-out, relax, and maybe taking a nap would be a good idea. This does make sense! Being overtired can lead to mistakes, causes our the fuses to be short, and certainly can cause us to take longer at doing our jobs – even simple tasks can become difficult in the face of a life filled with too much of the ‘go go go’. Why don’t Professors take mid-afternoon naps? Heck, can’t tenured Professors relax and ‘do less’ whenever they want?

A nap? Really? BWAHAHAHA! This is priceless. How abut a dose of reality.

I am a Professor, and this job is absolutely wonderful, but it does require (yes, REQUIRE) a busy schedule and a lot of time. Time management is a big part of my job, and the days are full of teaching responsibilities, grant-writing, meetings with students, administrative responsibilities and writing manuscripts. Contrary to what Forbes might lead you to believe, the life of an Academic is not stress-free and is not all tweed-jackets, and hobnobbing at the Faculty club. A lot of the stress is positive stress, but there is stress, and finding time to relax during the workday is an impossibility given the current context of University.

I fully appreciate some of the ideas behind Schwartz’s piece: taking a mid-day stroll outside (like Darwin did each day!) , or a quick nap in the afternoon, would be good for me, and would probably help with productivity but the reality is that there is no time. And I just can’t make the time appear. It’s the ultimate limiting resource. When I do have time that is freed up during the work day, it gets filled with tasks that are deemed important but not urgent.

How about the the #worklifebalance. Many people with jobs also have families and commitments at home that compete with the resources of time and energy.

Is this familiar to you?

Time to get the kids to dance class and Music lessons. Homework hell around the kitchen table? Phew. Dinner’s done. How about kitchen clean-up? Who will fold the laundry? ….finally, it’s time to fall exhausted on the couch at the end of the day. Ahhhh sleep…glorious sleep. 6 AM! Up we get, let’s get lunches ready! Where’s that permission form? The bus is coming, you’re late! Shoot – I’m late too. Gotta run… have a great day!

My wife pointed out that Schwartz’s argument really doesn’t apply to jobs in which it takes X amount of time to do a task, and if you are in a business that is dependent on consumers buying your product, if you sell Y more units of your product, it will take X x Y amount of time to get the product out the door. There is not really a choice – you can’t relax and do less, If you did less, you won’t have a sustainable business. As some of the reader’s comments in Schwartz’s piece state: ‘relaxing’ is simply a luxury that most people can’t afford.

I like this quote from Schwartz’s piece: Paradoxically, the best way to get more done may be to spend more time doing less

YES! I do agree. I buy into the ‘why‘ but I can’t see the ‘how‘: if less time is spent on one task, this frees up a bit of time, and it will get filled right away. (and never mind the fact that GUILT will come into play – I really would feel rather guilty if I shut my office door for a 20 minute shut-eye each afternoon…even if that chair is in the corner of my office is really, really comfortable).

A nice place for a nap.

Academic Institutions could be model systems for re-thinking the workplace and how to consider ways to help employees find time to ‘relax’ on the job, and that will surely have many benefits. This will, however, require a paradigm shift, and require a complete re-thinking of the ways the tenure-track system works, and the level of expectations put on Academics. This could be a great discussion to have, and let’s have it. But let’s not start this discussion with a goal that is untenable. I am quite sure that my colleagues would have a good chuckle if they were encouraged to ‘relax’ and have a little downtime during the workday.

Let’s start with some things that are a bit smaller and more realistic.

Let’s work our timetables so that lunch time can be free of classes; let’s find ways to encourage people to eat in a common area instead of in front of their computer. Let’s make sure offices, labs and coffee machines are suitably arranged so that people move around, communicate, and find a bit of time to sit with colleagues and students over a cup of tea. Let’s be sure that Chairs and Deans give tenure-track staff the right kind of mentorship so they can be productive on the right kind of tasks, and the flexibility and support so they can find the right balance between the various duties of academia. Let’s recognize, up front, that negative stress, overwork, e-mail hell, and pressures on time are real problems that require real solutions. If Academic institutions want to be places of higher learning, there must be support and a recognition that ‘down time’ to ponder, discuss and be curious is time well spent.

Well, with that, I’m going to go out for a walk – actually a run – a run to the lecture hall because I’m running late.

Postscripts:

First, I sincerely hope this post does not come off as sounding like I’m whining or complaining. I’m not complaining – I love my job and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Second, you might ask how I found time to write this blog post. That is more difficult to address – sometimes the really fun things to do can be done quickly, and it seems relatively easy to find a few minutes to write something I am passionate about. I also seem to get some very positive energy from this exercise. Hmmm … maybe writing a blog post is my way to relax?

January 22, 2013 by Chris Buddle

WANTED: graduate students

Interested in arthropod ecology?

Interested in graduate school?

I’m seeking at least two graduate students. One, at the MSc level, on a project related to pollinator diversity within an agroecology context. This is a Quebec-based project, and bilingualism would be required. The second, at the PhD level, will be about Arctic arthropod biodiversity with a particular focus on temporal changes in community structure. The Arctic project will involve a combination of field and laboratory work, and will in part deal with historical specimens. Both projects will require a student with interests in both taxonomy and ecology. In other words, significant time at a microscope as well as time doing quantitative ecology. Start dates are negotiable, but there is potential for field work to commence in May/June 2013. Required skills include excellent communication skills, ability to work in a large, dynamic laboratory, passion for arthropod ecology, and abilities/interest in quantitative ecology. Experience in Entomology and/or Arachnology would be an asset.

Please do your homework: read my blog, and do research about my research; try to assess if you think you’ll be a good fit within my laboratory group.

Interested candidates should e-mail me with a brief (<200 words) statement of interest, a brief (<200 words) statement that outlines relevant experience and skills, and a brief sentence or two about your expectations in the context of graduate school at McGill University. Please submit these to me before the end of January 2013.

Arthropod Ecology

Writings about arthropod ecology, arachnids & academia at McGill University

Category Archives: Academia