Follow-up on writing accountability. Last time, I wrote in anticipation of our first faculty writing accountability group meeting at my institution. As we have faculty of all levels and backgrounds participating, this session involved each member introducing him/herself, a research project or program, and goals for participating. I really enjoyed listening to my colleagues explain their interests and what they want help with during the program. (I'm a psychologist, so no surprise that I take pleasure in hearing about others' thought processes.)
Interestingly, I noticed that the facilitators described the accountability process as provoking "guilt and shame," which motivates us via avoidance of negative outcomes/negative reinforcement. The science certainly supports this statement, though there is a flip side. I study social comparison, which is inherent in any social activity; I've learned that some people respond positively to negative social experiences (i.e., those that induce guilt and shame), and others don't. And some people respond positively at certain times and negatively at other times. So in my partner- and group-based research, I encourage a mix of tough love, empathy, and positive reinforcement. (The latter actually works best for increasing the frequency of behavior, but the reward has to come quickly.)
As a clinician, I take the role of a cheerleader - I celebrate your success as often as possible (and encourage you to do the same, within reason). You should want to avoid disappointing me, but only if you're equally disappointed in yourself. If not, you won't keep up the behavior without my response. So I'm taking the same approach to my writing group/partner; I'll adjust if it seems as though my partner responds better to tough love.*
We're partnered up based on similar interests and goals, and we'll meet with our partners each week to check in. My partner is a professor of physical therapy who wants some support through finishing a large-scale and long-term research synthesis; I asked her to keep me on track and focused in the face of many, many active projects. Once per month, we'll meet with the whole group to report on our progress and discuss writing more broadly. If all goes well, there will be a writing retreat in the future. So overall, great start! More to come as we hold each other accountable.
Living the dream. In the last week or so, I had two extremely positive experiences related to my academic career. The first came almost at random. It was 7:30 on Monday morning; I was already on campus (as I am on all teaching days), with three classes, office hours, and grant writing ahead of me. (Not unique in this field, for sure.) I went down the hall to make coffee, and as I returned to my office, I looked at my little corner of campus: the name plate on my door, the bulletin board across from my office that displays my research and related news, my lab down the hall. It occurred to me, for the first time in a while, that I have what I worked so hard to get for many years.
For the better part of a decade, I've worked 60+ hours per week and not taken real vacations, in pursuit of a secure academic position. I've put off some life goals in order to focus on establishing myself in the new position. There always is more to do and always another hurdle (tenure next). But I stopped to appreciate what I've built, and to be grateful for the ability to do what I love. I made it. Not everyone can say that. It was a spontaneous and wonderful moment, and since then, I've tried to return to that mental space whenever I've found myself in need of a boost.
I also had the chance to share this appreciation with the person most responsible for making it happen (other than me) - my graduate mentor. He was in town for the day to do some consulting work, and we met on my campus to catch up and discuss our ongoing projects. I got to give him a tour, show him my space, and walk him through a typical day. This incredibly successful person with a brilliant mind and a prestigious position gave me a chance to work for him ten years ago, and I got to show him the fruits of his labor. It was nerdy, exciting, and humbling all at the same time.
This is your life moment of the week: There's always something to complain about. Stay connected to what you've accomplished and where you came from; it can remind you why you work as hard as you do.
*This is whole concept is much more complicated than I indicate here; perhaps fodder for a future post on this site or my research blog (drarigo.wordpress.com).
Writing. It's critical to our success as academics, no matter where we are employed. And we all wish that we had more time for it, no matter how little time our universities or departments allocate to other activities. The pressure to produce has many documented negative outcomes, including poor sleep, mental health problems, and in some cases, data forgery. Though nowhere is the tension between writing and not-writing more acute than at primarily undergraduate institutions that have high standards for research. (And often also have very high standards for service.)
To be fair, undergraduate institutions often have a broad definition of "research" - not just producing papers or books, but conference presentations, supervision of student thesis projects, and generally involving undergraduates in the process. But many still emphasize papers or books as "real" productivity; these seem to get more attention (both inside and outside the institution), and they are necessary to be competitive for external funding.
So how do faculty with teaching loads of 3+ per semester make time for writing? Write in the morning, write every day, close your door, say no, etc. are well-known and well-used. But these are not always enough to ensure productivity when you have 100+ students each semester who all think they're paying for personal attention. Consequently, writing accountability groups have become popular: partners or small groups agree to produce written work by a deadline and push each other to stay on task. These groups tap into social processes known to work for other behavior change efforts (weight loss, increasing physical activity).
For example, large-scale endeavors such as Shut Up and Write Tuesdays (#SUWT) allow participants from all over the world to write simultaneously, check in, and receive encouragement from others in the same boat. So you get opportunities for support, reinforcement, and social comparison all rolled into one. Similarly, there is a positive pressure via public commitment of goals. In smaller groups, the added benefit is that someone is supposed to hold your feet to the fire and not take any excuses for lack of productivity.
But how does "holding someone accountable" actually work? I use all of these social principles in my interventions for health behavior change, with success thus far. But one challenge is helping partners/group members to be effective disciplinarians, without discouraging the participants they're supposed to he helping. To date, I've taught research participants to communicate with each other about what is and is not helpful. Some people want and respond well to a Jillian Michaels approach, whereas others need a softer touch. I've encouraged my participants to reflect on this and communicate their needs to their partners/groups, which seems like a decent place to start.
But decades of psychology research show us that we don't always know what's best for us, or what will be most effective for instigating change. So how can we select the most effective accountability team for enhancing our productivity? I ponder this question in response to our upcoming writing group at my primarily undergraduate institution. Faculty from different disciplines, at different career levels, with different goals will try to help each other accomplish something over the next few months.
The group coordinators had the insight to ask for our preferences for partners, and I found myself unsure of how to respond. Would someone inside or outside my discipline provide the most useful feedback? Someone equally junior, or much more senior? Although I've been fairly successful so far, I know that I can learn a lot from those who have struggled; but what is it, specifically, that I need from them? What should I share about me that would be relevant for other members?
My current support network. I have an ongoing accountability agreement with a good friend from graduate school; we are immensely helpful to each other, but this happens in fits and starts, and I'd like to be more consistent about it. I'm starting another agreement with a friend from grad school whom I greatly admire, and I'm all about the positive-outcome social comparisons. I also have the privilege of writing alongside some excellent scholars on Twitter, whose success and encouragement motivate me (@iladylayla, @ATRWibben, @josephsonjyl). All of this has taught me that my ideal partner would be consistent, encouraging, and not take any excuses.
This is your life moment of the week: Our first writing accountability meeting at my institution is tomorrow. I need to prepare! Very much looking forward to it and to opportunities to reflect on group processes.
Follow-up on writing accountability. Last time, I wrote in anticipation of our first faculty writing accountability group meeting at my institution. As we have faculty of all levels and backgrounds participating, this session involved each member introducing him/herself, a research project or program, and goals for participating. I really enjoyed listening to my colleagues explain their interests and what they want help with during the program. (I'm a psychologist, so no surprise that I take pleasure in hearing about others' thought processes.)
We're partnered up based on similar interests and goals, and we'll meet with our partners each week to check in. My partner is a professor of physical therapy who wants some support through finishing a large-scale and long-term research synthesis; I asked her to keep me on track and focused in the face of many, many active projects. Once per month, we'll meet with the whole group to report on our progress and discuss writing more broadly. If all goes well, there will be a writing retreat in the future. So overall, great start! More to come as we hold each other accountable.
For the better part of a decade, I've worked 60+ hours per week and not taken real vacations, in pursuit of a secure academic position. I've put off some life goals in order to focus on establishing myself in the new position. There always is more to do and always another hurdle (tenure next). But I stopped to appreciate what I've built, and to be grateful for the ability to do what I love. I made it. Not everyone can say that. It was a spontaneous and wonderful moment, and since then, I've tried to return to that mental space whenever I've found myself in need of a boost.
