Old at Heart

By Kathryn Ryan

A few months ago, I picked up a copy of USA Today and read a somewhat surprising statistic on its front page: Nearly half of college presidents are now over 60 years old (49 percent in 2006 as compared with 14 percent in 1986).

That bit of information was offered with little further explanation in a section of the page reserved for facts and figures. But the paper did list the source: the American Council on Education's report, "The American College Presidency: 2007 Edition," published last February.

A little Google searching turned up a news release about the report in which David Ward, president of the council, said, "search committees and college governing boards are increasingly selecting leaders with prior experience in senior executive roles in higher education. This approach to appointments limits opportunities for young leaders, women and people of color, and we need to ensure that a new generation of individuals are in the pipeline and are prepared for the new challenges of leadership positions in higher education."

Both the statistics and Ward's reflections caught my attention because I am a midcareer academic in search of an upper-level administrative position -- a midcareer academic who just happens to be 36 years old.

I've followed the appropriate career path -- tenure-track faculty position, program director, assistant provost, and dean -- and have performed exceptionally well at each level. I've attended professional-development seminars, I've published, I've presented at numerous conferences, I've raised money, I've honed my technology skills to complement my Ph.D. in the humanities from a prestigious institution in the Northeast.

What I haven't figured out is how to magically gain 10 or 20 years overnight. If I had a dollar for every interviewer who has said something to the effect that, "You've got this great background but we're just looking for someone with more years of experience," well, I wouldn't be rich, but it might make the backhanded compliment sting a little less.

Admittedly, I could have been less impatient in my career. I could have stayed in my faculty position for another 10 or 15 years before making the leap into administration. But I realized fairly early -- while still in graduate school, in fact -- that the career I really wanted was an administrative one.

Opportunities arose and I took them, perhaps mistakenly believing that my track record would ultimately matter more than the time it took me to reach a senior post. Unfortunately, one of those opportunities -- the deanship -- turned out to be a huge mistake and caused me to step back from academe, so that I now have the disadvantage of conducting my search from a position outside of academe.

I am currently working as a consultant for a major technology firm serving the higher-education market. The story of how I ended up here may be fodder for another column -- one that could be titled "Don't Trust the President."

Nonetheless, after a lot of soul searching, I've decided to spend one more year on the market looking for a position as dean or chief academic officer. I recognize that a deanship is more likely to be within my grasp, however, since I'm interested in small-size institutions, I'm not ruling out dean of faculty or provost positions.

I've rewritten my CV yet again. This time I've eliminated all those pesky dates that might allow people to guess my age. I went back and forth for a long time on that one, and I'm still not entirely comfortable with my choice. Besides feeling slightly deceptive, I realize that the strategy could backfire and that search committees will probably assume that I am much older than I am.

However, I figure it's time to try everything I can think of to make this search end in success.

Of course, trying everything would technically mean applying for every job for which I am qualified, regardless of location, institution type, or other constraints. But I'm not going to do that. The experience of jumping without enough due diligence to an institution that looked great on paper but turned out to be in terrible shape has certainly changed the way I approach the job market.

My preference would be to confine my search to institutions that I know something about; however, in reality, I'll probably take a chance on some relative unknowns and worry about making a better assessment of their viability and character during an interview.

In terms of location, I've also set some criteria based on my prior experience. For the dean's job, I relocated 800 miles away and then had the oh-so-enjoyable experience of having my professional life collapse without the calming presence of my friends, family, or partner. Now I'm back in my hometown and focusing my search on institutions in Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Maryland, and the District of Columbia. I can't completely rule out the New England states but the opportunity would have to be pretty special.

Then there's the issue of networking. If I were employed at a college or university I would attend the many conferences, seminars, and professional-development workshops where networking takes place. And my institution would foot the bill, at least some of the time.

As an outsider, that gets a bit more complicated -- in large part because attending such meetings requires money (my own money, and sometimes a surprisingly large amount of it) and means taking vacation or personal time from my current job. I plan to find some way to attend at least a few such events this fall and will just have to be as resourceful as possible in keeping costs under control.

So I'm doing everything I can think of to position myself for a successful search. Meanwhile, I wish I could make the American Council's report, and the analysis of its implications, required reading for search committees seeking to fill senior administrative positions and for the search consultants assisting them. As long as those doing the hiring continue to privilege candidates who fit a preconceived image of a senior administrator -- white, male, and graying -- then we can be sure that our institutions will miss the opportunity to create a new generation of leaders who will be needed sooner rather than later.

For my part, I think this hiring cycle will be my last attempt on the academic market. If I can't find a good fit by next spring, it will be time to consider leaving academe for good. And as much as that outcome would represent a personal failure, I believe it should also be seen by leaders of higher-education organizations as a collective failure as well.