For two years I was honored to serve as the chair of the Program
and Content Committee for ACUTA. My
primary responsibility was to coordinate the committee‘s mission to procure
quality speakers and intense educational content for these who work in
Information Technology in higher education.
In the midst of those responsibilities, for the 2016 Annual conference
in San Diego, I thought to assemble a random student panel to answer questions
for our attendees.
Like most of my good ideas, this one resulted from equal parts
inspiration and desperation. We needed
to fill a speaking slot at the conference on short notice and San Diego State
University was overflowing with students.
I thought a chance to interact directly with students might give our
attendees (mostly back office information technology and telecommunications
staff) a chance for some entertaining feedback.
It was a hit. We held student panels
at each event following until the end of my term.
From each panel, I took away insights into what students really
wanted – not what a magazine reported that they wanted, what they truly
desired. It was invigorating for a back
office staff member to hear how technology was affecting student lives.
And, if you’ve never heard a student directly thank you for your
work in maintaining some obscure piece of infrastructure, then you haven’t
lived.
But, rallies fade and insights can grow stale. Once returning to the office, direct and
energizing interaction disappeared and feedback was once again reduced to
reports, customer surveys, focus groups, complaints, refinement requests,
trouble tickets, project proposals, six sigma, performance appraisals…
And then I started graduate school in the Fall of 2017. I was a student.
And overnight I stepped into a role I thought I understood, in a
technological environment that I know I understand.
And immediately, I stumbled. Loss of Wi-Fi meant something
completely different. I was limited in
where I could work on group projects. I
tripped during registration. I
registered for classes in one web site, found out what books I needed in
another, and actually took classes at another web site. I followed procedural forms from yet another
web site in order to make sure my class fees were paid.
As a service user, I was left wondering why it was so hard to get
the services I needed. While working, I
was busy patting myself on the back for being part of the team that delivered
those services with minimal downtime and short response time. I had never lived it from the user
perspective. And living it, is a
completely different experience.
And now, I was interacting with students on a daily basis. In conversation after conversation, I was
learning what was truly important to our student body: easy use of systems,
calendars, and ubiquitous campus Wi-Fi in the exterior of buildings. Student Pokemon Go players became an unpaid
cadre of Wi-Fi testers now that they knew they had some one’s ear. They’ve directed me to multiple sites where
Wi-Fi needed to be reinforced and the students had a demonstrated need.
With all of the efforts we take to solicit student opinion, the
simplest solution seems evident. Become a student. Many institutes of higher education offer
free classes as a benefit but I don’t think that we truly realize the gains
that come from having employees become students. The employees become invested in the
institution. The institution has value
and the students are no longer complaining kids, they become our peers.
And, as UF begins the effort of rolling out two factor
authentication to our general population, I’m glad that, as a student, I was
able to bump my head against the student side of adaptation before the general
population. Luckily, my professor was
kind enough to allow me to have my phone with me during our secure testing
procedures. His rules did not allow for
any phones or anything other than a laptop, but without my phone I cannot log
in to any university system. He and I
worked it out, and I was able to report back on a probable pain point in our upcoming
deployment.
They aren’t the enemy, but there’s no better way to understand the
students on your campus than becoming one of them.
And, staff enrollment is an underutilized option that institutes of
higher education have available for both professional development, and student
outreach. We shouldn’t ask whether
classes will help our employees in their roles, but rather acknowledge how the
act of taking classes at our colleges inherently make them better
employees.
Staff involvement in our campuses pays dividends.
