Tod Treat

As I neared the final day at my last institution, I was reminded of the many stories the old timers tell of administrators past who sped through the institution on the way to the next stop, driven by ambition, driven out by misjudgment, or just with a heavy foot on the accelerator. The stories invariably have a theme: the administrator intended all along to exploit the institution for “experience” and move on. Listening, one gets the impression that neither the institution nor the person are changed, rather they converge, their paths parallel for a time, and then diverge again, as they were, toward some disparate futures. The lack of commitment to time, measured in years or decades, leads to a kind of dismissal of the impact of each on the other.

The perspective is understandable: I have posited all along that the faculty outlive us all. The faculty and staff — as a collective — embody the culture of an institution and the thought that any single individual outside (or maybe even including) the president can move that needle without significant time on the ground is logical. Still, that is only one half of the equation the other being “what is the impact of the institution on the individual?”

The response wells up in me most plaintively — WE LIVED HERE. Our memories, our values, and our futures are irreversibly impacted by brief, but transformative moments. I had that moment in 1991 in the span of a 45 day intersection be with my future wife who I did not see again for three years but eventually came to make a life with. My son had that moment when the “IT guy,” Joe Feinstein, threw him into building computers instead of a typical show and tell. He is well on his way to be a computer scientist because of that interaction. My daughter had those moments when she first took the stage and was able to see design elements on a tour after Proof. She cannot view a building, set, or stage with design in mind in part from that experience. My youngest son’s view of museums and community engagement came from a handful of Children’s Museum of Illinois‘ Board meetings and a particularly memorable parade march. He compares every museum he sees to the one he claims as home.

Profound meaning in ones work is ironic: to enhance one’s personal brand, one must elevate others and enhance systems that run themselves. The value is not what one does, but what one influences to be done with excellence by others. So it is that, as I entered my first vice presidency I did so knowing I’d one day leave – by choice, by misstep, by illness or retirement – and I set about laying the conditions that would make my own presence irrelevant. The test of my success lies not in what I did there, but what others choose to sustain or discard. This I know. I have gained much from the places I have been and people I have worked alongside.

My approach to leadership, to team building, to priority setting, and to valuing what matters has come not in prolonged immersion in one place but in myriad brief yet transformative moments. Everywhere we go, we live. learn and grow, and we are irreversibly impacted by those experiences. Let us hope that our interactions produce the same positive transformational experiences too.

Published July 25, 2013