Gender, Sexual Identity, and Families: The Personal Is Political

From Judith Fischer

What is an academic “ah-ha” moment? In my own journey, the first salient experience was in my initial academic job hunt in the fall of 1971 and spring of 1972. There were some interesting reactions to my application. At the time of my job hunt, I lived in Boulder, CO, where I was finishing my doctorate. My then husband and I had a preschool-aged son. One institution wrote me back stating that they weren’t looking for anyone in hippie attire or Bolshevik beards (yes, they said that). Representing a different institution, a phone interviewer stated that they were concerned about what I would do with my small child. In the next paragraphs I unpack these moments as I see them now.

Forty years—and more—later, these experiences are still with me. And there are a number assumptions at work that reflect more than the seemingly micro-aggressions of the men of those times who were in positions to hire faculty. An overarching aspect that is obvious is the patriarchal assumption that men are rightfully in positions of power in a capitalist society and they rightly represent and rule the institution of the academy. From this position of power men were gatekeepers who chose to let in men similar to themselves. Thus, the man who wrote the letter seemed to reject emerging expressions of masculinity that challenged their own views. The letter called up an interesting mash-up of insecurities: hippie attire was loose and free, in contrast to the traditional jacket and tie attire expected of men of that time; Bolshevik beards invoked the specter of communist sympathizing, a threat to capitalist economic and social structures. Women were rejected without even having to say so, because patriarchal privilege failed to “see” women. Women were not imagined as even being interested in broaching the gates of that academy. Another important aspect of this long-ago letter is the assumption of cis-gendered people. Even if the letter writer did recognize that a woman might apply, by writing what they did, they rejected any applications from those who were trans*. In those times, I suspect they didn’t have a vocabulary of such concepts, but that blindness to possible varieties of human expression limits advancements of people. Understating the case, I did write back that I didn’t think my family would be comfortable there.

With respect to the second example, the phone call, again assumptions rooted in patriarchy were present. It didn’t seem to occur to the callers that I had had that small child all through my doctoral work and we had somehow figured it out. As well, the question seemed to suggest that married women with children shouldn’t work for advanced degrees or work in academia once graduated. In that same call, the interviewer said something along the lines that they had had a woman once. Given the patronizing tone of that description of their past experiences, I suspect it wasn’t just women with children with whom they experienced uncertainty, but women in general. They were gatekeeping their department’s academic ranks.

So how did I get my start in academia? I was fortunate to be offered a position in a small department where a feminist woman had pioneered before me. She had educated the men in the department that women didn’t automatically make the coffee or take the minutes at faculty meetings. And she had children. In my years there, I found some of the men working on issues of white, male, heterosexual privilege.

But to back up a bit, how did I get to a position where I could earn a doctorate? Men in my undergraduate institution encouraged me to continue my studies. Based on the comments I heard, the one woman on the faculty (a research associate) who was a potential role model was held in low regard. I worried I would become like her. But I also realized I would be me regardless of what degrees I had or did not have. And I realized she faced so much sexism that it must have been very difficult for her. There is a class privilege component to my story as well. I received an NIH stipend to attend graduate school with no strings attached (other than to make progress toward my degrees) as to how to spend the stipend or conditions about who I could live with. Other women received government stipends with restrictions on what could be purchased and how (they handed in coupons to purchase food at the grocery store). And they couldn’t be living with a man. It was called “welfare”. We both received stipends but were treated very differently. In addition to class privilege, I also benefit from white privilege. In the 1960s and 1970s I doubt I would have been granted admission, received fellowships, gotten job offers if I had been otherwise.

Yes, times have changed. Women make up half or more of graduate students in social science disciplines. They hold professorships and are department chairpersons, deans, and hold positions of power in academic institutions and organizations. But we remain in a society that continues to reflect patriarchal assumptions and arrangements, that uses diversity to divide, and that shames those who do not conform. “Ah-ha” moments are not a thing of the past. To me the US presidential election of 2016 afforded one such moment after another. I am discouraged now but I have hope for the future because I believe white male privilege is unsustainable. The old departmental gatekeepers have been replaced, although work remains at the highest levels of academia and the boards that govern these institutions. The next sections describe the work and lives of people who are working toward a future of diversity and equality.

From Kevin Lyness

I have been fortunate to teach in two academic programs that are fully committed to social justice and gender equality—in the Marriage and Family Therapy training programs at Antioch University New England and Colorado State University. I received my PhD from a program that was working on issues of gender and power and I was fortunate to get feedback on my privileged position (though I know at the time I was sometimes defensive, and at other times clueless), and I’ve later been able to reflect on the privileges that I enjoyed then and continue to benefit from as a cis-gender white male. I also had the advantage of being raised with a feminist mother and to have worked throughout my life with and for women.

To me, some of the current dialogue (that we’re still having to have) about women’s rights being human rights, as well as the human rights of LGBTQ+ individuals, has really struck a chord with me. I had an experience when I was younger of living with a partner (but not being married), and when she passed away, I was not able to use funeral leave at work because we weren’t married. During this very traumatic time for me, I also realized that so many people live in relationships that aren’t recognized as legitimate (and that for the longest time could not be legally recognized) and that everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and justice. Since that time, I have continually learned more about the role of gender and gender role socialization in relationships (as a couple and family therapist, these are issues that are vital to understand), as well as the role of power and oppression across social locations, and the intersectionality of these issues of access to power. I continue to work in settings that encourage me to explore my own privilege and exercise of power, and I choose relationship partners that help push me in this area as well.

So, what have I been able to accomplish? I was part of the team that developed the PhD program in Marriage and Family Therapy at Antioch University New England, where social justice is the primary mission of the program. We are one of a very few doctoral programs in MFT that has such an emphasis, and I’m proud of our program and the work we’ve done in this area. One area that I’d like to highlight about our program is the diverse nature of our student body. Having a direct mission of social justice means that we draw a very diverse group of students, and that diversity includes racial and ethnic, gender and gender expression, sexuality and sexual orientation, religion, national background, and age.

I have also tried to take an active role in national service, serving on the Commission on Accreditation for Marriage and Family Therapy Education (COAMFTE) and on the COAMFTE standards review committee that recently drafted new accreditation standards that significantly bolstered content and expectations regarding issues of culture, gender, sexual diversity, and power.

In both of these settings (at my university and in national service), I have tried to pay attention to and to use my privilege in ways that empower others, and to learn from my missteps. I have also had the freedom to be able to choose to work in settings that promote social justice, and I think I work at one of the best universities in this regard! Of course, there has also been backlash and barriers, most notably when I was working on revising accreditation standards where we tried to expand the language used to be more inclusive. This led to a national campaign to rein in what others saw as an overreach of the Commission and we ultimately had to roll back some of the changes we proposed. One lesson from this, though, is that we got a conversation started and opened the door for later changes. This is one thing I’ve learned in administration—sometimes your first efforts only pay off later, and doors that are closed now can be opened again.

From Maresa Murray

One of my most profound “a-ha” moments happened when I embraced the privilege of unapologetically saying “thank you for the invitation to serve, but at this time, I’m going to decline the invitation.” In simple terms, this boils down to the positive power of saying no, and the pivotal key was not just saying no, but refusing the guilt of turning down a few very important administrative service opportunities. It merits mention that my rank is Associate Clinical Professor, which is a non-tenured position. The implicit risk involved in my firm, but gentle, refusal of these administrative service invitations is that I might have been potentially at risk for professional scrutiny.

One particular instance of my refusal to serve on a committee happened a few years ago when I served as the elected Secretary for the Bloomington Faculty Council (BFC), which is the operational faculty senate body on the campus of Indiana University-Bloomington. It was the first time that a non-tenured African American female faculty member had been elected to serve on the BFC Board, which also meant that I was in the forefront more often than previously, which in turn meant that my invitations to serve on committees exponentially increased. One of those invitations came from our campus Provost, as she thought I would be an excellent fit for a campus initiative. Since I sat directly next to the Provost at all of the BFC business meetings, although I was nervous about doing so, I kindly informed her of my decision to decline the invitation, explaining my appreciation for being considered but decided that the committee would not be a positive move to make at that time in my career trajectory. The Provost proceeded to cover the microphone with her hand, since all of our business meetings were open to the public and meticulously transcripted, and told me a story about which she recently heard.

She described an article she read of an African American Clinical faculty member at another university who was inundated with administrative obligations, an experience that was markedly increased for her because there were very few retained African American faculty on her campus with her level of institutional memory, since minority faculty members were being avidly recruited, yet not retained and quickly leaving her campus after short periods of time. The Provost went on to finish the story by telling me that the woman eventually came to an enlightened understanding of her role on the campus, and that the very fact that she is an outstanding and enduring African American faculty member on that campus was, in fact, an act of service within itself. Therefore, she became more selective about serving on the committees that would best fit her own professional goals. After the Provost shared that story with me, I told her how much I appreciated her gracious acceptance of my “no.” Right before she lifted her hand from the microphone to start the BFC meeting, she encouraged me to continue practicing that level of professional discernment and said it will serve me well in the higher-level administrative roles taken in the future.

From Jean Pearson Scott

My earliest “ah ha” moment in the professional world came at the time of hire in my first tenure track position. I assumed that the salary I earned would be the same as my male colleagues who were also new assistant professors. I received a reality check when the Dean told me matter-of-fact (with no pretense of apology), “Of course, you won’t be making the same salary as ________ because he has a family and needs the extra income.” I had not encountered this kind of blatant discrimination in my graduate program. My academic mentors were traditional women in many ways, yet highly accomplished trailblazers. They had worked hard and had learned how to choose their battles and mostly how to work toward goals within the academic system of the day without making waves. I remember that my academic advisor would clean house or wash clothes, drop her children off at school and be sitting at her desk at 8:00 a.m. Before her retirement, she was awarded one of the highest awards the academic system bestows. It did not take long for me to realize that the world of academics was a male dominated system. My mentors had worked extremely hard to make it to the top. When I had my two children, I learned that no full-time woman faculty member in the College had had children before, at least in any one’s memory, and there was no protocol or policy for maternity leave. I must note, however, that the College and Department worked with me to make sure that my classes were covered and students’ progress on research was not interrupted. At that time, there was enough flexibility in the system that a new situation could be accommodated. This was a time when I appreciated that being in a Department of Human Development and Family Studies gave me advantages that other employed women did not have (access to quality childcare, flexibility in research and teaching responsibilities).

One thing that I have learned is that, as human beings, we have wounds that can go deep especially as a result of harassment and discrimination. In the late 1990s, I served as the faculty advisor to the LBGT student group on campus. I decided to serve in this capacity because I was a white, middle aged, heterosexual, female with tenure. I had several gay/lesbian colleagues who were untenured and not out to the academic community; they knew that sexual orientation was a sensitive, volatile issue on a conservative campus. I made the decision to serve as the faculty advisor because I saw that I was at the right place and right time to be an ally. Although the organization carried out several successful projects, I saw firsthand how personal issues can sabotage programmatic goals of an organization. One officer of the student group was coercive and abusive to other members and resented my position as a heterosexual advisor. Turmoil among the officers prompted the unfair response of, “What did you expect?” from those who were fearful of students with LBGT identities. Progress may come as one step forward two steps back when leaders of social justice issues set themselves up as gatekeepers, put personal needs or approval above program goals, or contribute to divisiveness that poisons an initiative or brings condemnation by others. Also, I am reminded from this experience that social justice does not come as smoothly, respectably, and cleanly as the history books might suggest.

Over my career, I have served as an Associate Chair and Chair of a department. Presently, I serve as the Faculty Ombudsperson for a large, comprehensive university. As I have worked with faculty and administrators to resolve disputes, I become more resolute that the best we can do to preserve academic freedom and shared governance in the academy is to have a strong infrastructure (faculty senate, College faculty councils) to give voice to faculty perspectives. Having a voice is vitally important as the terrain of higher education is changing rapidly and innovations have a short shelf life. My hope is that the academy will continue to be a place where diversity is valued and all voices are heard.

From Donna Sollie

My coming-of-age experiences as a high school student and undergraduate in the late 1960s through the early 1970s in the state of Mississippi were influenced by the social issues and related activism that was sweeping our county, and my increasing understanding of the racial and gender oppression in my state and our country. It was an exciting time in many ways, as well as a challenging time, and the enlightening readings in my sociology courses combined with the social activism on campus contributed to my commitment to social justice, and my interest in continuing my studies.

Certainly both of my parents were supportive of my interest in graduate school, but my determination was strengthened by my mother’s defense of my goals, in her sharp retort to a chauvinist male sociology professor who told her that I should focus on finding a husband and having children rather than pursuing graduate degrees—as the saying goes, she did not suffer fools gladly, and also did not hesitate to state her opinions. The strong and fiercely supportive women in my family were excellent role models!

Throughout my academic career, my interest in gender and women’s issues intensified, and I remain fascinated by the ways that gender influences individual identities, opportunities, and relationships. The Feminism and Family Studies Section in the National Council on Family Relations has provided rewarding and stimulating collaborative opportunities throughout my career, not to mention life-long friendships. My experiences in Women’s Studies, as an affiliate professor and as Director of Women’s Studies for 8 years at Auburn University, have been thought-provoking and gratifying. And I have been most fortunate to have wonderful departmental colleagues throughout my career.

However, although my interest in gender and women’s issues was supported by wonderful departmental colleagues, that interest has not always been viewed so positively across campus. One of these colleagues let me know, fairly early in my career at Auburn, that my activities attracted attention and provided a topic of conversation at the noontime pick-up basketball games where male faculty gathered for exercise and gossip. Apparently my HDFS colleague was often questioned about what “the Femi-Nazi”—that would be me!—was up to.

And before I submitted my materials for evaluation for promotion to the rank of Full Professor, a caring colleague was concerned that the title of the book, which I co-edited with Leigh Leslie, might be detrimental to my review due to the word feminist in the title. These experiences exemplify the ongoing challenges and negative perceptions that we face as we identify as feminist academics as we work toward addressing inequities.

For the last 10 years of my career, I served as the Assistant Provost for Women’s Initiatives at Auburn University in the Office of Inclusion and Diversity. Being a feminist and being an administrator at a university brought unique challenges as well as opportunities. Holding a university leadership position provides an avenue for working with engaged people who share the goal of creating an environment that values women and men equally and offers men and women the same opportunities. The work of Fine and Buzzell (2000) that re-visions feminist leadership as service that challenges the gendered organizational beliefs of institutions has been instrumental in my administrative work. As a feminist administrator, my goal was to develop and implement programs for students and faculty members that are creative, connected, focused on the communities within and outside the university, and committed to change. There have certainly been challenges along the way, however——and often these challenges reflect the persistence of subtle and often not-so-subtle academic climate issues that are still pervasive in the academy.

One of the challenges that academia faces is attracting and retaining a diverse faculty, which will enrich instruction and bring different abilities, thought patterns, and approaches to discovery and problem-solving. Ensuring that these faculty members advance through professorial ranks is critically important. Other challenges center on addressing work-life and climate issues that can negatively impact all faculty members, but that are more likely to impact female and minority faculty members. In order to effectively address these challenges, we developed a number of low-cost, high impact initiatives at Auburn University. These initiatives included mentoring programs, networking opportunities, facilitating scholarly development, facilitating leadership development, and addressing family-friendly and work-life policies. These initiatives reflect a “small wins” approach to altering ongoing practices that reflect gender bias by focusing on “fixing the organization, not the women who work for it” (Meyerson & Fletcher, p. 136). Our Pathways to Full Professor Initiative focuses on increasing the number of women who advance to Full Professor Rank and into institutional leadership positions, and includes workshops, dossier reviews, and mentoring programs.

It is critical that universities facilitate the development of female students and address their concerns. With that goal in mind, we started the Women’s Center at Auburn University (AUWC) in 2006. Our tagline is “Actualizing the Potential of All Women,” and we promote and support women’s leadership and personal and professional growth through education, advocacy, and outreach. The AUWC provides resources, expertise, and mentorship to empower and encourage Auburn University to overcome gender inequity and gender-based violence on campus. Our student group, the AUWC Leadership and Advocacy Council, is an avenue for student leadership and advocacy. Our Advisory Board, composed of university and community members, plays an important role as we develop programs and strategic plans.

We have a Women in Science and Engineering Institute (WISE) which includes programs for K-20 and faculty members. The mission of the WISE Institute is to encourage, promote, and enhance the entry, retention, and success of females in the fields of science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) at all levels. Student programs include a WISE Learning Community and an active Graduate Women in Science organization; these programs provide mentoring and networking opportunities as well as support for women students in areas that typically have low female representation. Our WISE Steering Committee, with faculty representatives from 10 academic colleges, provides guidance for our mentoring and networking programs, our Speakers Series, and the new TESS (Together Embracing Successful Scholars) talks which highlight outstanding female scholars at Auburn University.

Throughout my career, I have been very fortunate to have faculty colleagues who made my daily life engaging and encouraged me to pursue administrative positions, supportive department heads, opportunities to be involved in leadership positions in professional organizations, especially the National Council on Family Relations, and long-term collegial relationships within the discipline of family studies (including those with several of my co-authors on this paper). I have found it very helpful to learn from my colleagues at other universities, and in academic departments throughout the university, as we share ideas about successful programs and strategies for addressing university climate issues.

Some of the roadblocks and challenges that are ongoing include subtle and pervasive sexism, funding for programs, and recognizing that change takes time and it is imperative to be persistent. One effective way to address challenges is through building collaborations with individuals across the institution. As we look to the future of our disciplines and of higher education, and the continuing challenges to address inclusion and diversity, there are several actions we can all take at our institutions. Be an active voice in lobbying for more women in higher administration positions. Utilize institutional data and COACHE (Collaborative on Academic Careers in Higher Education) data in developing rationales for developing programs and initiatives to address gender inequities and climate issues at all levels of the university. Volunteer to be on your institution’s Commission on the Status of Women, or similar committee; if one doesn’t exist, develop a proposal, and submit it to the Provost at your university. Cultivate collaborative relationships across the institution. Articulate the importance of units such as Women’s Centers and Women’s or Gender Studies Programs.

I have often commented that in my 30 years at Auburn University, and particularly in the administrative and leadership positions that I’ve held, it has been necessary to continue working toward goals of inclusion and equity, particularly in the face of challenges and setbacks. I wrote the last paragraph about a month ago, before the quote that has now become part of our national consciousness says: “Nevertheless, she persisted.” It was interesting to see my observation about the necessity of persistence.

Undoubtedly, our ongoing challenge is to persist. Luckily, we have so many more people who are persisting together. Our combined voices and efforts do make a difference.

From Anisa Zvonkovic:

Having been an administrator at one level or another nearly consistently since receiving tenure, I reflect back on why and how I got into administration. Given that the audience for this volume is family scientists, I will say that we could look to our family experiences for answers to these questions. In my case, I was one of four children, and the only girl. I think I grew up solving interpersonal squabbles, thinking about how to manage household workload since my mother worked outside of the home, intervening from time to time with larger social and bureaucratic systems, and generally being the one person at home that everyone, no matter who they were fighting with, could talk to. I leave it to my readers as to whether these activities became part of my management skill set and my philosophy.

I suppose in my pre-tenure days, I very often felt like I could do a better job than my supervisors, if only because my philosophy and instinct are always to communicate. Having had five department heads before I was tenured, I experienced a lack of coordination, communication, and consistency, and I knew I could do better. My first administrative gig was directing the graduate program. In that role, my orientation as a systems thinker was important. I made decisions that included long-range trajectories of student training, programmatic concerns, and explanations of all of these forces to students and faculty. I still think of those students as “my” students.

I will also say that I have always been aware of how my gender and my ambiguous ethnicity have affected my work as an administrator. On the negative side of the ledger, as business literature and stereotypes have told us, people expect women to be warm and approachable and people have a hard time accepting women’s authority. On the positive side, I do feel that my staff, faculty, and students enjoy talking to me and that I am able to get my finger on the pulse of what is happening here. I cannot say for sure if my ethnic background in a culture that was more communal and less individualistic can take credit for my systems orientation toward change and problems, but I do know that I think systemically and that really helps me to think about how to improve work practices and ensure everyone feels valued.

I hoped to accomplish a system in which everyone felt heard and valued – because they could see and express how their work contributed toward a greater whole. Of course, this is an impossible goal. Nevertheless, I do think I come closer to this goal every year and there is some evidence of my success. I can write about the high teaching evaluations in my units and the steps we take to ensure that our curriculum remains relevant and lively. I can write about programs I’ve initiated to support faculty in writing grants and the success rate they have achieved with externally funded grants. More to the point, I remember a university wide evaluation of administrators at Texas Tech in which my faculty’s very high ratings of my performance were even mentioned in the summary Institutional Effectiveness report. Similarly, at Virginia Tech, I have won the College of Liberal Arts and Human Sciences’ Administrator of the Year Award.

What is increasingly important to me now is building social and human capital so that other faculty can become the great administrators too. All of my departmental advisory committee members are women, currently with rank of Associate and some in non-tenure track appointments. I’m concerned with how I cultivate their talent, help them to preserve their work life balance (since that is my area of research, after all!), and expose them to my philosophy without burdening them with the preoccupations I have that make my work more difficult than it needs to be, arguably. I want to share how rewarding administration can be, rather than the frustrations. In particular, I have a messianic zeal for the work of administering programs which train students to improve human lives and relationships across the lifespan. To me, training students and future leaders in this work is important for the future of higher education and also for the future of a civil society.

From Judy Fischer: Personal Experiences Framed Beyond the Personal

Each author identified personal experiences: Judy described the subtle and not-so-subtle discrimination against women in her first job search. She placed this discrimination in the context of patriarchal (white) gatekeeping. Kevin touched on a deeply personal loss that contributed to a deepening of empathy towards those with less privilege. Maresa identified the ways in which occupying a niche not well populated can result in others’ seemingly trying to fill out a balance sheet by enlisting her service and how important it can be for one’s own well-being to say no. Jean relayed hurtful interactions with others early in her career that demeaned her as a professional based on her gender. Her sense of fair play and justice are manifested in many ways, one of which is her role as a university Ombudsperson. Donna’s moving ahead with her own career goals and working to advance women in academia were facilitated by the unwavering support of her mother. And Anisa’s early family life and cultural background helped her in a number of ways to negotiate with others within systems, especially taking a more communal orientation within those systems. In professional settings she learned to discern how things could be done better and, as department head at more than one university, she strives to empower others.

The experiences of these panelists were not simply held tightly within themselves, but seemed to form catalysts to personal and professional growth. In some sense, the new gatekeepers are blowing up the gates of injustice, discrimination, and invisibility.

From Kevin Lyness: The Value of Persistence and Taking a Long View

One theme that stood out for me across these stories was persistence, exemplified in the quote Donna highlighted. Each of these panelists has persisted through varying levels of adversity, discrimination, and backlash, and has been able to have strong positive influences as a result. It would be interesting to hear more about what enabled each of us to persevere. It seems that it has been a mix of external supports and internal strength, optimism, and commitment. Related to the notion of persistence is taking a long view, which includes choosing one’s battles, working for incremental change, and taking care of one’s self.

From Maresa Murray: Power and Intentionality

After hearing the specific details expressed by the panelists, I was struck by the absolute intentionality of being strategic with the power we were each privileged to wield. There is a Bible scripture that comes to mind from Luke 12:36 which states that much is required of the person to whom much is given. It was quite clear that we, on the panel, had been given very much and that we cared to use that administrative power to help those without a seat at decision-making tables.

It seems that each panelist was very cognizant of an area dealing with gender roles in their respective administrative post, with Anisa and I doing the same, with an additional layer of negotiation needed for ethnicity. Being quite familiar with the sociological theories that espouse the importance of racial identity being more important than gender identity in African-American women, I was neither surprised that our panel colleagues were extremely aware of gender barriers and stereotypes, nor was I shocked to find myself primarily communicating about racial barriers and stereotypes.

And as we shared the details of our respective experiences in administration, a subtle question of hope emerged for me.....What if the panelists could actually work together from our respectively strategic vantage points to create positive administrative change? So often these power dynamics are negotiated in silence and darkness out of necessity, so that the strategic initiatives won’t be undermined. But I was awestruck by the amount of thought and intention that went into the management of each step along the way for the panelist, and it made me want to congratulate each person on negotiating a strategy that was “custom made” for each person, taking into account one’s own personality, race, gender, sexual orientation, etc. Enjoying the beautiful mosaic of strategy enacted by each person within their own professional context was absolutely beautiful, and it left me with a smile of admiration for each panelist.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I felt that each panelist understood the gravity of the power with which they were entrusted, and they maximized the penetration of positive influence behind closed doors, where folks would never guess the depth of brokerage invested in creating opportunities for social justice in the academy.

From Jean Scott: Power of Collaboration

A theme that catches my eye is the power of collaboration at multiple levels. Donna noted that building collaborations across the academic institution is one strategy for dealing with challenges to improvements in university culture and climate. Collaboration has been helpful in my work as a university faculty ombudsperson; bringing together persons and unit representatives who can problem solve together. Anisa observed that her systems orientation naturally framed her approach to highly successful administration; being able to see the larger picture and the importance of listening to all person’s voices. In Kevin’s experience, professional service collaborations get difficult conversations on the table. In a cautionary sense, Maresa’s “ah ha” story reveals a strength in discerning when a gracious “no” is the better option. Collaborative work empowers when it brings together persons with the right alignment of personal and professional motivation and social responsibility for fairness and justice. Finally, Judy’s idea of a panel discussion at the 2016 Groves Conference on Marriage and Family opens a rich treasure of stories, which with their telling, empower both speakers and listeners. 

From Anisa Zvonkovic: Change and Relationships

As I re-read the comments, I am struck with what my colleagues had to say about making changes. Jean wrote “social justice does not come as smoothly, respectably, and cleanly as the history books might suggest” and I think each story addressed how social change can occur. Donna wrote about how, in her role as Assistant Provost, she focused on low-cost, high-impact activities, partly because of budget issues and partly because her focus was on fixing the system, not the people whose lives were made difficult by engaging in the system. This perspective reminds me of one of my critiques of the self-help work-life literature, which often tells women they need to manage their time better rather than recognizing that the system that sets them up to perform more tasks than is possible to perform in a 24-hour period is really what needs to change! Kevin wrote about his work with the COAMFTE and how some of their recommendations needed to be rolled back, demonstrating the rocky paths to enact social change. Both Judy and Maresa wrote about their experiences as the only woman or only African-American woman faculty member, and how they enacted social change by being visible, being productive, showing what can be accomplished. In sum, the only way to work toward social justice and to enact change is through relationships. Luckily, those relationships, forged under fire, are also nourishing and sustaining.