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Saturday, August 30, 2014

In Memoriam - Michael B. Katz, 1939-2014



The intellectual community lost a giant last week.  Michael B. Katz, the Walter H. Annenberg Professor of History and Research Associate in the Population Studies Center in the History Department at the University of Pennsylvania passed away on Saturday, August 23rd 2014 after a long bout with cancer.  (It has been a particularly tough couple of years for Penn’s History faculty, when one considers the recent losses of Sheldon Hackney and Robert Engs, each towering figures in his own right.)

Michael was a pioneer and helped make the history of education a viable field of study with the publication of The Irony of Early School Reform (1968), a book that remains as relevant today as when it first was published.  He was a prolific scholar, and his later works examined urban history and the history of poverty and the welfare state.  Indeed, Michael enjoyed renewed attention in these areas recently with the release of a revised and updated edition of his The Undeserving Poor (1990), which coincided with growing interests in income inequality among the mainstream media and in the public discourse.

Image from the University of Pennsylvania


Several moving tributes to Michael as a scholar and as a person appeared almost immediately following his passing, for example here and here.  The immediacy of these memorials demonstrates the tremendous loss Michael’s passing represents.  For me, the loss is not only professional, but also personal.  Michael was my adviser for seven years and oversaw my dissertation when I was his doctoral student at Penn.  I have several stories and memories about Michael, two of which I wish to share with you now.


The first is from the Spring of 2008.  I was part of a panel of graduating doctoral candidates who had completed Penn’s Graduate Certificate in Urban Studies, a program Michael helped create.  This annual event highlights the work of graduate students as emerging scholars.  Michael presided over the panel, offering commentary and leading the Q-and-A session.  I noted at the time that the panel marked the first time that I shared a dais with Michael, saying it was all the greater of an honor as it was the only time that we would appear together as adviser and student.  Michael’s comments and feedback on that Spring morning to my fellow panelists and me demonstrated the deep interest he took in his students.  His guidance throughout my dissertation writing particularly showed the high expectations he held for his students to do their very best work.


The second is more recent, coming during the final months of Michael’s life.  Periodically throughout my career as a junior academic, I have reached out to Michael via e-mail, either to update him on my progress or to ask his assistance or advice with the trajectory my career was taking.  Admittedly, most of these would come when I was feeling particularly low about how my career was not developing as I had hoped or when I was contemplating abandoning academia all together.  Among his last replies to me was a rather lengthy e-mail message, one that reveals someone who not only was fully engaged with the state of the profession but also acutely aware of the changing demographics of education generally, and how those changes would influence the future needs of higher education in particular.  Michael’s astute observations of those needs - and what I could contribute to meet them - were as encouraging as they were inspiring.  Even towards the end, Michael was engaged with and interested in his students and the profession.

I treasure these and so many more memories all the more now that Michael is gone.

I know I am not alone in mourning the loss of this wonderful person.  My thoughts and condolences go out to Michael’s family and his many colleagues and friends.  I hope they find comfort in knowing that his spirit lives on in the teaching, research, writings, and other work of his many, many students.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

The Five Stages of Back to School


The time for back to school is upon us again - which also means back to blogging!

Image from and available at Morguefile.com
This time of year usually brings with it an array of feelings for some of us in higher education – which, with all due respect to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, I call the Five Stages of Back to School.  I am sure some or most of my colleagues in the professorate have experienced one of these stages at one time or another during the waning weeks of summer at some point or other in their careers.

Denial tends to emerge sometime around the Fourth of July.  One’s internal monolog goes something like this: 
Summer can’t be half over.  Summer isn’t half over.  Classes aren’t starting for another six weeks.  I still have lots of summer left ahead of me.  I still have plenty of time to finish my summer research projects, to plan my classes, and to submit that book review.

Anger tends to manifest in one of two forms.  One is internally directed anger that starts to develop after August 1st.  It usually sounds something like this:
I can’t believe summer is half over!  I haven’t finished my summer research projects yet.  I still have to write that book review.  Hell, I still have to read the book so I can write the review!
The other kind of anger is directed externally, usually at institutionally-based conditions beyond one's immediate control, rearing its head by mid-August:

I can’t teach all the classes I have to teach.  I haven’t finalized my syllabi!  I still have to complete my book orders!  The on-line book order system never works!  I still have to decide what books to assign!  I can’t believe the teaching schedule I have this semester!  Who makes up these schedules anyway?!?

Please note, however, that no matter how much anger is directed externally, the true professional does not pull a Prof. Terguson by taking it out on the students once classes commence.



Bargaining sets in shortly after anger:

Maybe I can get a course release.  Yeah, that's it!  I’ll convince them that I need the time for more research and writing.  Maybe if I volunteer for that university committee nobody likes, they’ll give me a break.  Or I’ll tell them that I’ve been ask to coordinate a big conference... an out-of-state conference.  Yeah, that’s the ticket!

Depression usually comes with binges of Netflix, Haägan Daz, or whiskey.  Pick your poison wisely at this stage:

My students are going to hate me.  My colleagues are going to ignore me.  The profession is going to disown me.  I haven’t accomplished anything.  I have wasted my entire summer and probably my whole life.

Acceptance is like obscenity – you’ll know it when you see it:

Being an academic is great.  I have the opportunity to teach young people about things that interest me.  I have the autonomy to research and write about things that are important to me.  I have the privilege of working with smart people all the time.  Who could ask for anything more?


Obviously, I am speaking in broad generalities.  Any one of these reactions can be rational or irrational in its own right for anybody at any point on the academic calendar.  All any of us can do when that happens is to strive for our best and keep moving forward all year long.  Have a good one!