Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Are we really delivering the U.S. classroom experience we promise to undergraduate Chinese international students?


by Gabriela Valdez, Ph.D, Consortium for North America Higher Education Collaboration, 
The University of Arizona 

 
Admission offices around the nation have discovered there is a huge demand of Chinese international students who want to study in Institutions of Higher Education (IHE) in the U.S. It was estimated that only 2% of Chinese students have access to higher education in their country (International Comparative Higher Education Finance and Accessibility Project, 2009), which creates a very competitive entrance process to Chinese national schools. At the same time, a large middle class who can afford to pay international student tuition paired with the perceived prestige of U.S. institutions, creates the perfect environment for U.S. recruiters targeting Chinese international students. But are we really delivering the U.S. classroom experience we promise to undergraduate Chinese international students? This was one of the questions that inspired my research around classroom experiences of Chinese international students in the U.S. and I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but no, we are not delivering what we promise, well at least according to a group of Chinese undergraduate students interviewed.

Institutions of Higher Education in the United States have gone through a series of budget cuts in recent years. Just in Arizona alone, the state cut 99 million from universities and 19 million from community colleges in 2015 (Beard Rau, 2015). This and other reasons have forced IHEs to become more and more creative about generating funds. One common practice is to attract international students, especially Chinese international students, who tend to be self-funded (China Education Online, 2012) and who now represent the largest group of international students in the U.S. with more than 300,000 students in the U.S. higher education system (Farrugia & Bhandari, 2015). As U.S. institutions continued to attract more Chinese international students, the relevance of the quality of their classroom experience and their role in that setting becomes more important.

On my quest to answer the aforementioned question, I started by conducting a synthesis of research based on 15 peer-reviewed published studies about classroom experiences of international students, in which there was an overrepresentation of Asian students. It is important to say that my intention was to focus on Chinese international students, but the lack of published studies forced me to adopt a broader scope. After analyzing reoccurring themes that included classroom differences, classroom participation expectations, and denial of equity in education, I was able to identify six classroom practices that instead of including international students into the U.S. classroom experience, excluded them from these experiences (Valdez, 2016).

On another instance, I interviewed a group of Chinese international students about their classroom experience in a specific university. While most of the participants preferred the American classroom practices over practices in China, their perceptions about the way American students and faculty perceived them were conflicting, especially in relation to profiling and attribution of stereotypes. There was also a discussion about the internal identity conflict of being Chinese, which most participants linked to negative attributes in the classroom setting, and being “Americanized” which was linked to positive attributes (Valdez, 2015).     

I was also able to conclude that there was an overall sense among Chinese students interviewed of non-membership and non-belonging to the U.S. classroom environment based mainly on perceptions of classroom exclusion, low language ability, inability to meet unfamiliar expectations and attributions of stereotypes. Something very interesting was that after hearing from students about their classroom experiences and their perceptions of not being very active, I noticed that these students were very engaged in their academic activities, but were engaged in ways not visible to the mainstream classroom environment. As an illustration, participants reported studying an average of 19.5 hours a week in order to prepare for their classes, a number that they considered to be significantly higher than their American classmates. Their invisible engagement was also illustrated by their high engagement in written discussion of academic concepts and their ability to apply their knowledge to concepts in an international and intercultural perspective.

There is no doubt that with the presence of nearly a million international students in the classrooms of U.S. colleges and universities (Farrugia & Bhandari, 2015), professors have a great opportunity to internationalize their curriculum and classroom environment. Unfortunately, it takes more than just having an internationalized curriculum and having the presence of international students in classrooms to take advantage of a truly international classroom. As we internationalize and diversify our colleges and universities in the U.S., it is also important to diversify the way we teach and the pedagogies we use. It is unrealistic and unproductive to expect every underrepresented student to engage in the U.S. mainstream classroom environment which has been historically influenced by white male values.  It is now the time to start thinking about a critical pedagogy of internationalization that goes beyond the internationalization of the curriculum and reflects the complex and diverse ways of learning that are now represented in our higher education classrooms.

The implementation of a critical pedagogy of internationalization could potentially fully incorporate Chinese and international students into the classroom environment, their perspectives and their endless contributions. This is something that will not only benefit every student involved in that classroom setting, but will contribute to creating a richer learning environment.
Gabriela Valdez, Ph.D.
Consortium for North American Higher Education Collaboration
The University of Arizona

REFERENCES:  
Beard Rau, A. (2015, May 13). Arizona Tops Nation in College Cuts, Tuition Hikes. The Arizona Republic, Retrieved from http://www.azcentral.com/story/news/arizona/politics/2015/05/13/midnight-arizona-tops-nation-college-cuts-tuition-hikes/27221021/
Farrugia, C.A., & Bhandari, R. (2015). Open Doors 2015 Report on International Education Exchange. New York: Institute of International Education.
International Comparative Higher Education Finance and Accessibility Project (2009). A Brief Description of the Chinese Higher Education System. Retrieved from http://gse.buffalo.edu/org/inthigheredfinance/files/Country_Profiles/Asia/China.pdf
Valdez, G (2015). U.S. Higher Education Classroom Experiences of Undergraduate Chinese International Students. Journal of International Students, 5(2), 188-200.  
Valdez, G (2016). International Students Classroom Exclusion in U.S. Higher Education.  Campus Support Services, Programs, and Policies for International Students. (pp. 35-56) Hershey, PA: IGI Global. Doi:10.4018/978-1-4666-9752-2.ch003


Friday, April 1, 2016

An Account of Online Learning Experiences with First-Year Doctoral Students

by Sheena Ghanbari, Program Promotion Specialist at UC San Diego; Nahid Nariman, Director of Research at Transformative Inquiry Design for Schools and Systems and Karina M. Viaud, Director of Parent and Family Programs at UC San Diego


Higher Education is faced with multiple challenges such as tuition inflation, student retention, campus climate, and time to degree. Specifically, graduate school, namely Ed.D. and Ph.D. programs, continue to face challenges with student retention; approximately 50% of doctoral students leave the program before attaining the degree (Cassuto, 2013; Lovitts & Nelson, 2000; Reid, 2012) and most students discontinue the program at the ABD stage (All But Dissertation), a stage in which coursework is complete without successfully defending the dissertation (Barnett, 2008). Before reaching the dissertation phase of the doctoral program, many Ed.D. programs institute an end of the first year assignment - i.e., students must qualify for the subsequent year by writing a Qualifying Paper. This stage of the program is important in two ways. First, this stage signifies a critical junction in which the student demonstrates the ability to write a coherent literature review. Second, this stage signifies how well the Qualifying Paper Course prepared and supported the student to move forward in the doctoral program.

Researchers have begun analyzing data trails as means to obtain insight into various academic individualization, prediction, intervention, and adaptation. Analytics has captured meaningful attention in institutional research and business (MacNeill, 2012), and is a relatively new area of research in higher education (Barneveld, Arnold, & Campbell, 2012; Bichsel, 2012). It can also support innovative and meaningful ways of improving students’ performance and success (MacNeill, 2012). Learning analytics enables us to generate specific learning processes and images of students’ performance in a way that the two can be compared to the overall performance of a course (Gaviria, Glahn, Drachsler, Specht, & Gesa, 2011). Early investigation on academic analytics predict students’ academic difficulty in order to help faculty members generate individualized learning instructions tailored to the student’s learning needs (Campbell, DeBlois, & Oblinger, 2007). Broadly speaking, schools or other programs that use analytics evaluate data to help make decisions with information that can determine the best course of action to improve student learning (Hawkins, 2008; Long & Siemens, 2011; Norris, Baer, & Offerman, 2009), and improve teaching and learning (Campbell, 2007; Baepler & Murdoch, 2010).

In an effort to gain a different perspective of writing a Qualifying Paper in the student’s doctoral journey, we proposed that one class of the Qualifying Paper Preparation Course be conducted online to see how students engaged in dialogue about on-becoming a critical consumer of research. We analyzed data from this online activity to garner insight in information-giving while individual and collective learning developed among three groups of four to five doctoral students. We saw data related to students’ early understanding of the assignment develop in real-time. This digital footprint compiled evidence to consider creative ways of action in teaching and students’ learning development in this Qualifying Paper Preparation Course. We were interested in how online analytics can unveil the beginning stages of student learning and affect teaching strategies. We used Google Drive as the platform for the online shared-activity because it is a familiar technology. We collected data over a three-hour course that took place in the third week of the quarter. Participants were randomly assigned to three groups of four or five students. Each group navigated through four modules that explored different approaches to becoming a critical consumer of research. The following is a snapshot of the participants’ reflection on their experiences.

The first module asked participants to think back to assigned course readings and share what it meant to be a critical consumer of research. Building on this premise, the second module began with a video that outlined the process of writing a literature review followed by describing three strategies from the video they would be incorporating in their upcoming literature review for the Qualifying Paper milestone in the Ed.D. program. The third module asked if any new knowledge was gained during this activity and if the participant’s initial definition of a critical consumer of research has changed. After each module, participants also wrote a brief reflection. Finally, the fourth module was an overall reflection and opportunity to share general feedback about their online experience.

At the onset of examining our data, we identified and used key adjectives linked to individual knowledge such as learn, explore, understand, find, and realize. We coded instances of collective learning and interactive conversations that showed collaboration. Responses that suggested individual or collective learning were closely reviewed for evidence of learning during the online activity. The first module focused on defining what it meant to be a critical consumer of research. Group-One had noticeably less interaction than the other groups. This group consistently shared resources and information, but gave less insight into where they were in their learning as a group. There was evidence of some contribution to learning with words like “additionally” and “also” after acknowledging an agreement. Group-Two illustrated greater collective understanding of shared learning experiences and challenges by providing interpretations of each other’s responses and using words like “agree” and “exactly.” Overall, there was a great deal of agreement and key words similar to “learning” were used sparingly in this module. Group-Three showed evidence of interaction and illustrated an awareness of changing current practice as they explored the definition of critical research consumption. This group conversation was deeper and showed a balance of individual and collective learning. For example, one of the exchanges in Group-Three exemplified a thoughtful interaction that included further questioning. Student-One described her interpretation of being a critical consumer of research and then Student-Two responded “I would agree with everything [name of student] said about critical consumption of research ...I would also add that just because it [article] does pertain, does not mean it should be included.” This point was affirmed by Student-One and then she followed with, “I would think that identifying why it [article] doesn’t fit can begin to expose the gaps. Is that your thinking?” The exchange continued and showed a confident display of understanding and deepening of thinking surrounding on-becoming a critical consumer.

The second module shared a video synopsis of how to construct a sound literature review. Group-One and Group-Two shared a level of discomfort with the scholarly process and moving forward with research. As one student in Group-One stated, “I am still questioning everything I write in my paper.” Other students agreed, “I have moments of uncertainty...it is helpful and a bit of validation that this is not an easy process.” Group-Two demonstrated a similar tone of empathy and appreciation for one another, but more acceptance toward the general challenges and ambiguities of the research process. Student-One in Group-Two described “Be comfortable in not being comfortable right now. I need to trust the process and realize that things will start to come together and make sense.” Group-Three showed a high level of interaction as well, and focused more on answering the prompt and sharing strategies with one another. For example, when one student shared a chart on how to organize literature, she received praise and appreciation from her peers.

The third module asked to share any shifts in thinking from their initial definition of becoming a critical consumer of research. Overall, Group-One’s definition of a critical consumer broadened or changed. As one student stated, “My new knowledge has come from the video and the dialogue between my team members.” Statements like this were heard repeatedly from Group-One and there was a particular emphasis in gaining knowledge from the video. Group-Two and Group-Three by-in-large expressed that their definition of a critical consumer of research did not change. Group-Three participants stated: “The discussions tonight helped solidify my existing understanding and allowed me the time to reflect on my own practices as a critical consumer of research.” Statements like this captured students experience in Group-Three. While Group-Two’s and Group-Three’s original definition remained unchanged, Group-Two also shared their preference for in-person (classroom) learning. This type of reflection did not surface in Group-Three where insight and comfort were the more prominent themes.

The final module was a reflection on the entire online activity and an opportunity to provide feedback on the experience. There was a high level of interaction among all three groups in this module and some variations on where they focused their reflections. Group-One delved deeply into practices of online platforms, strengths, weaknesses, and purposes. Group-Two emphasized their appreciation of being able to work remotely with constant reference to the value of time. Group-Three did not have many criticisms of the online platform. They seemed to have navigated through it with a level of ease not as apparent in Group-One and Group-Two. Group-Three saw value in this online activity earlier in their research journey.

Overall, the three groups demonstrated different characteristics to help us assess their understanding of and progress with the course assignment. Group-One constantly shared information and had moments of individual learning, but the collective interaction and knowledge-gaining attributes were less visible. There was a sense of community, but threads of dialogue were surficial at times. Group-Two had a higher level of comfort with their own skill set and showed an understanding of what it meant to be a critical consumer of research. Group-Three demonstrated a high level of competency with learning together and, much like Group-Two, their conversations pushed one another’s thinking. Group-Three also showed a healthy balance of individual and collective learning throughout the different modules. All of the groups conveyed instances of individual and collective learning, and their unique approaches have been enlightening as we learned about their needs as graduate students and emerging researchers.

In brief, this online activity was significant in that it made clear how the students defined their learning progress related to becoming a critical consumer of research and affirmed and supported each other’s success and struggles with the task of writing the Qualifying Paper. Many of the students felt overwhelmed and lost by the task of writing a 20-25 page Qualifying Paper which also meant undergoing critical examination of existing research; an intimidating academic undertaking. These uncertainties were masked before their participation in the online activity and we believe these uncertainties resembled syndromes of an impostor. The impostor syndrome is defined and redefined in a few ways since it was first presented in 1978 by psychologists Pauline Rose Clance and Suzanne Imes. The impostor syndrome includes characteristics of fraud, fear of discovery, and difficulty of internalizing actual successes (Craddock, Birnbaum, Rodriguez, Cobb, & Zeeh, 2011; Gravois, 2007). The students who may have felt like they were “faking their way through the course” no longer felt alone once they became vulnerable in the online open forum. Upon outing their vulnerability, they validated one another and provided words of support to help overcome fears or struggles.

Simultaneously, the online interaction deepened our understanding of the students’ learning and progress with the Qualifying Paper. We gained insight in (1) areas in which to spend class time to review developing a literature review, (2) some of the students who had unique struggles in developing the literature review, and (3) students who were doing well with the assignment. Therefore, the online activity served as an intervention tool to learn students’ progress in the Qualifying Paper Preparation Course. In other words, the evidence from the online interaction required us to be flexible in and adaptive to the different levels of learning occurring among the students and respond to their unique needs.

The differences in individual and group learning made it clear that students don’t learn the same way and/or at the same rate, even though they are provided the same information in the same classroom. Although the online learning analytics were ephemeral, it is evident that data has provided information to have discussions about ways to be creative with learning, improve learning and possibly approach the entire course differently for subsequent cohorts.

References

Baepler, P., & Murdoch, C. J. (2010). Academic analytics and data mining in higher education. International Journal for the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning, 4(2), Article 17. DOI= http://digitalcommons.georgiasouthern.edu/ij-sotl/vol4/iss2/17.
Barneveld, A. V., Arnold, K. L., & Campbell, J. P. (2012). Analytics in Higher Education: DOI= http://net.educause.edu/ir/library/pdf/MWR07085.pdf.
Barnett, D. L. (2008). Experiences influencing degree completion articulated by doctoral students in education administration (Doctoral dissertation).  Retrieved from http://ezproxy.csusm.edu/
Bichsel, J. (2012). Analytics in Higher Education: Benefits, Barriers, Progress, and Recommendations. Research Report. Louisville, CO: EDUCAUSE Center for Applied Research. DOI=  http://www.educause.edu/ecar.
Campbell, J. P. (2007). The Grand Challenge: Using Analytics to Predict Student Success. Presentation at the 2007 EDUCAUSE Midwest Regional Conference (Oct. 2007). DOI= http://net.educause.edu/ir/library/pdf/MWR07085.pdf.
Campbell, J. P., DeBlois, P. B., & Oblinger, D. G. (2007). Academic analytics: A new tool for a new era. EDUCAUSE Review (July/August 2007), 41–57. DOI=  http://net.educause.edu/ir/library/pdf/erm0742.pdf.
Cassuto, L. (2013). Ph.D. Attrition: How Much Is Too Much? Chronicle of Higher Education. DOI= http://chronicle.com/article/PhD-Attrition-How-Much-Is/140045.
Craddock, S., Birnbaum, M., Rodriguez, K., & Zeeh, S. (2011). Ph.D. Doctoral students and the impostor phenomenon: Am I smart enough to be here? Journal of Student Affairs Research & Practice. 48, 4 (2011), 429-442.
Gaviria, F., Glahn , C., Drachsler, H. Specht, M., & Gesa, R. F. (2011). Activity-based learner-models for learner monitoring and recommendations in Moodle. In C. Delgado Kloos, D. Gillet, R. M. Crespo García, F. Wild, and M. Wolpers, M. (Eds.) Proceedings of the 6th European Conference on Technology-Enhanced Learning (EC-TEL 2011, Palermo, Italy, September 20-23, 2011). Heidelberg, Berlin: Springer-Verlag.
Gravois, J. (2007). You’re not fooling anyone. Chronicle of Higher Education. 54, 11, A1.
MacNeill, S. (2012). What is Changing and Why Does it Matter? A Briefing Paper. CETIS Analytics Series. 1, 1. DOI= http://publications.cetis.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Analytics-Vol1-No1-Briefing-Paper-online.pdf.
Long, P., & Siemens, G. (2011). Penetrating the fog: Analytics in learning and education. EDUCAUSE review, 46(5), 30-40
Lovitts, B. E., & Nelson, C. (2000). The hidden crisis in graduate school. Attrition from Ph.D. programs. Academe, 86, 6, 44-50.
Norris, D., Baer L., & Offerman, M. (2009). A National Agenda for Action Analytics. White Paper. Presented at the National Symposium on Action Analytics. (St. Paul, Minnesota, September 21-23, 2009). DOI= http://lindabaer.efoliomn.com/uploads/settinganationalagendaforactionanalytics101509.pdf
Reid, C. D. (2012). Joyful obligation: Listening to Black doctoral students in the academy. Doctoral Thesis. UMI Order Number: UMI Order No. 3493868., New York University.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Transcending Macro to Micro: Lines of Research that can assist in Understanding the Manifestation of Neoliberalism in the Lives of Faculty

by Leslie D. Gonzales, Assistant Professor, College of Education, Michigan State University 


Background


             Scholars of higher education have developed a large body of scholarship that addresses faculty careers. Within this scholarship, there are consistent themes: the importance of disciplinary background in forming faculty views of the world and their work, how the type of college or university where one works bears down on the roles and expectations that a faculty member is expected to fulfill (and supported to fulfill). Higher education researchers have also illustrated how faculty careers are not immune to the bent of the wider political-economy, most often characterized as neoliberal, market-centered, commercialized, or austere (see Harvey, 2005 for history of neoliberalism). In fact, neoliberal critiques abound, not only in the U.S. but also throughout Australia, England, Canada, Mexico and many other countries (Apple, 2013; Torres & Schugurensky, 2002). Most of this research demonstrates how the professorial role has been unbundled, de-professionalized, and transformed (sometimes in the face of resistance) into a distinctive entrepreneurialism (Slaughter & Rhoades, 2004).
            Within the neoliberal critiques, studies show that faculty tend to work long hours in order to keep up with growing work load demands; that their work is increasingly understood for its fiscal or cultural resource generation; and that evaluation of faculty work is contingent on their ability and willingness to self-surveil and document what they do with their time (e.g., What was their percentage contribution to a manuscript; How many students did one graduate; How much revenue was generated via one’s course offerings?) (Gonzales & Núñez, 2014). As with most institutionalized patterns of valuation and resource allocation, the effects of the neoliberal turn are often disbursed unequally with female faculty members, individuals of racially or ethnically minoritized statuses, those working in disciplines further from the market, or faculty employed by institutions with fewer resources and limited infrastructure feeling the brunt of inequality. Indeed, Among those most effected are contingent faculty who teach a vast majority of undergraduate courses across American colleges and universities, and who are poorly paid, marginalized, and find themselves with limited or inconsistent access to teaching and learning professional development opportunities and materials from employing institution(s).
            To date, the field has learned a great deal from studies that use a neoliberal lens to explore faculty careers. However, as just suggested, this research has tended to document the ways in which faculty expectations and/or productivity/output patterns have changed, and how those changing expectations often reproduce inequities along the lines of discipline, institutional type, gender, and race (Misra, Lundquist, & Templer, 2012; Niehaus & O’Meara, 2015; Renzulli, Reynold, Kelly & Grant, 2013; Treviño, Gamez-Mejia, Balkin, & Mixon, 2015). Beneath or perhaps behind the pressures to publish and to demonstrate tangible outcomes are daily seemingly invisible or small micro level processes and experiences that the neoliberal moment also bears down on, but which are currently under-examined. To this point, Bastedo (2012) urged higher education researchers, and especially organizational theorists, to take a close look into “educational work” (p. 10) as it unfolds in a daily, perhaps even mundane, way. The goal of this post is to explore three ways of doing so, and I begin, drawing from the work of Anna Neumann, by asking if and how we might shift to studying faculty careers not only or primarily as a producing enterprise, but as a learning one.

Understanding the Faculty Career as a Learning Enterprise

            In her work, Anna Neumann (2009) encourages scholars and college and university leaders to remember that the work of faculty hinges on continual learning—an idea that is often muted in the desire to understand outputs, outcomes, and productivity. Although, the focus on output or productivity, in general is important and connected to an overarching concern with how the neoliberal bent positions colleges and universities, and in turn their faculty, as market competitors, there is also much work on the part of faculty that goes into “producing,” which the field knows little about. Specifically, the field knows little about how faculty members, embedded in (and producers of) the productivity culture, extend their scholarly learning: how they form and explore ideas, test out or articulate their thoughts as they grapple with old and new theories and developments. Given this gap in knowledge, there is merit in exploring such phenomena, broadly, and also in trying to understand how faculty learning efforts fall out differently among different groups of professors, such as those on and off the tenure-line, across gender lines, among faculty members who hold racially and ethnically minoritized status inside an institution constructed by and for White, wealthy males and for those who have come to know the world with Western-centric ideology and epistemology.
            Indeed, history has shown that women, women of color and communities of color, more broadly, create and engage in productive learning outside of mainstream apparatus. Martinez Aléman (2000; 2010) illustrated how the learning experiences for young traditionally aged women and women of color differed (in terms of space and content) from that of young male students, and also from that of the other female group. Espino, Muñoz, and Marquez Kiyama (2010) shared how their friendship and bond has been central, indeed integral, to their intellectual development. With the power of these examples in mind, we need more studies that systematically focus on how faculty commit and recommit to learning over the course of their work lives, the ways in which community and friendship play a role in allowing academics to form ideas, to talk out loud about their work in ways that allow them to be vulnerable, and what such efforts look like across gender, race, familial composition/commitments; disciplinary affiliations; appointment types; and across different institutional types. Such work would not necessarily shed light on productivity, as it is typically defined in the current neoliberal moment, but it would remind researchers and leaders that meaningful productivity must be fed by scholars’ ability to extend their learning.
Deploying Intersectionality to Trace the Differential Effects of the
Neoliberalism on Faculty Mobility
            As already alluded to, cultures (e.g., disciplinary norms, normative dispositions toward work, professionalism) and structures (e.g., appointment types, hiring processes, tenure and promotion guidelines) do not operate in the same way for all faculty members. Faculty members enter academia as raced, gendered, classed, and otherwise marked bodies. However, beyond the personal and biographical markers that faculty carry, they also enter academia with particular forms of capital such as that attached to the type of institution where they completed their doctoral work, unearned capital attached to the cache of their major advisors, their methodological experiences/stances, and myriad other forms of privilege that are not well documented in current research regarding faculty hiring or mobility. In other words, like the hidden curriculum that many scholars have documented in the context of K-12 schooling, there are hidden and not well understood forms of capital that allow/constrain movement within academe (Margolis, 2001). It is notable that that women and racially and ethnically minoritized women and men, occupy the majority of non-tenure-track positions (Finkelstein, 2015); that racially and ethnically minoritized people are more likely to graduate from a non-Ivy League school, and more specifically, from a Historically Black College or University or a Hispanic Serving Institution as documented in emerging work by Dongbin Kim.
            When one holds these latter pieces of information in one hand, and then considers the fact that the majority of tenure-track hires are drawn from a tiny portion of doctoral-granting universities as noted here and here, it becomes evident that understanding faculty hiring, promotion, and mobility patterns demands an intersectional approach: one that accounts for personal identity markers; organizational/field markers or forms of capital; and also academic markers (e.g., research topics, methodological approaches) as each of these markers holds a certain value in this neoliberal context.
            By incorporating this three-dimensional approach to studying the composition of the academic labor force, higher education researchers might be able to investigate the manifestation of neoliberalism differently: perhaps as the layered reproduction of hierarchy, where scholars of color or otherwise minoritized (class, college generation) scholars, most likely to graduate from non-Ivy League institutions are fed into ranks of a labor market that are not promising pathways to mobility. While neoliberalism is currently understood for its de-professionalizing and unbundling effects on faculty roles, there is a need to understand how neoliberalism works in tandem with the deeply institutionalized logics of the field of higher education in ways that hamper access and mobility within the professoriate.
Emotions in Academia
            One final line of inquiry that might be developed within the broader neoliberal critique deals with emotion. At ASHE 2015, my colleague David Ayers and I put forward a new theoretical framework to explore the labor experiences and expectations of community college faculty in this neoliberal moment. We borrowed from an eclectic set of literatures, including institutional logics, nuanced discussions of neoliberalism, and emotional labor (Hocschild, 1983). In developing our argument, we recognized that one of the most powerful expectations for contemporary faculty, particularly those working in under-resourced colleges and universities and in the least secure of positions, especially contingent labor, is that of emotional labor. Our argument differs from recent writing that stresses the emotional toll and anxieties absorbed by non-tenure-track faculty (and faculty, writ large), and instead focuses on the idea that faculty members, especially those working in under-resourced settings, like community colleges, are expected to remedy structural inequities that stem from austerity politics and neoliberalism through their passion, commitment, and creativity. Adopting this vantage point, researchers might consider how calls for creativity and passion are actually attempts to draw on the emotional resources—particularly the passions—of those who attach a deep sense of purpose to their appointment as teachers, researchers, or academics, writ large.
            There are other ways that emotional labor might be studied within academe while holding in mind broader political-economic contexts. For example, the personal identity markers—gender, race, class, sexuality and so on—discussed throughout this post often seep into the work that faculty do, how that work is perceived, and how they, in turn, strive to position that work (see Gutierrez y Muhs, Niemann, González, & Harris, 2012 for many examples). Scholars whom occupy one (or multiple) marginalized statuses and whose work is explicitly focused on critical questions concerning race, equity, power, inclusion, and Whiteness receive several warnings about the risks of such work: they will be perceived as overly political; as one-dimensional; as subjective or biased. Such critical work is imperative to understanding the inherently political production of knowledge, and how knowledge shifts and expands over time, but the field has yet to investigate how scholars engaged in this work negotiate, recoup, and thrive in spite of threats to or warnings offered about their intellectual viability. In other words, higher education researchers might consider exploring how scholars, who are engaged in critical— or less mainstream work (in any discipline)— move through and subvert the warnings they receive, but also what it takes to sustain such scholarly agendas. Such movement, it seems, would require a great deal of emotional energy, and as such, is deserving of close study as yet another way that neoliberalism collides with power and politics in the production and evaluation of knowledge.
Closing Thoughts
            Although the field has a well-established body of work concerning the academic profession, there are many questions and angles that remain unexplored. My hopes for this post were to motivate new ways of thinking about the study of faculty work and roles, such as what lays behind productivity (learning), how the opportunity to enter and be mobile within academe hinges on hidden curricula attached to historical and structural inequities, or perhaps what is expected or what it takes—emotionally—to move through academia today.

References

Apple, M. (2013). Audit cultures, labour, and conservative movements in the global university.

            Journal of Educational Administration and History, 45(4), 385-394.
Bastedo, M. (2012). Organizing higher education: A manifesto in M. Bastedo (Ed.). The organization of higher education—Managing colleges for a new era, pp. 3-18. Baltimore, ML: Johns Hopkins University Press.
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            American Academic Profession in the First Decade of the Twenty-First Century.” In Young 

            Faculty in the Twenty-First Century: International Perspectives, edited by Maria M. 
            
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Gonzales, L. D., & Núñez, A. M. (2014). Ranking regimes and the production of knowledge in    
           
            academia: (Re)shaping faculty work. Education policy analysis archives, 22, 1-23.

Gutierrez y Muhs, G., Flores-Niemann, Y., González, C.G., & Harris, A. P. (2012). Presumed incompetent. The intersection of race and class for women in academia. Boulder, CO: Utah State University Press.
Harvey, D. (2005). A brief history of neoliberalism. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.
Hochschild, A. R. (1983). The managed heart. Berkeley, CA: University of California Pres.

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