The Career Centre has recently moved into shiny new digs in
a prominent central place on my campus. It has also expanded its staff and services,
and I now get a weekly e-circular from the Centre listing events and
opportunities. I presume students receive something similar. If you’re an
academic, something similar is likely happening on your campus. This growth is
fueled by the angst of students and their tuition-paying parents, coupled with
the shift in perspective that emphasizes job placement as an increasingly
important role of colleges and universities. “If I go to college, what am I
going to get out of it?” increasingly looks for an economic-monetary answer.
Public figures take potshots questioning the value of a liberal arts “major” and
defenders make their case in the form of books and op-eds.
My college is proposing a graduation requirement whereby students
earn “points” if they attend or participate in career-related workshops,
experiential learning, networking events, or a wide range of activities that
can loosely be tied to expanding student horizons of what they might consider
doing after college. The point-system is rather flexible, which is a good
thing, otherwise this would never pass muster with the faculty who would see it
as an administratively-imposed add-on to our busy and stressed-out students. It
might still not pass muster, even though the college administration would really
like to see this happen. (Having such a program is a useful talking point for
administrators and Admissions folks, when appealing to external
constituencies.) I wonder how the administration would respond if the faculty
votes down the measure, but we haven’t crossed that bridge yet.
In my department, I was on an ad-hoc committee exploring how
classes and other activities within our department go towards satisfying the
additional requirement (if passed). I think increased tracking and paperwork should
be a minimum, not just in my department, but across the college in general.
Thus, we identified courses that already incorporated a number of the desired
features so that students taking the class would also receive “points” towards
career exploration. For example, a required Research Methods course has traditionally
had a representative from the career center conduct a session in one of our
class meetings. All our students are required to do research, which counts
towards experiential education. We have an alumni seminar series and other
networking events that also fit the bill.
I am also on the curriculum committee that is discussing the
proposal. To no surprise, faculty agree that it’s good for students to have
opportunities and take advantage of offerings from career services, many of
which complement our departmental activities. The crux of the question is
whether all this should be Optional or Required. I predict that’s where the
line will be drawn when it eventually goes to a vote.
All this made me think about my role as an adviser to my
students. There’s no requirement that I specifically talk about career options
with my students, although it’s a subject that comes up relatively often with
my first-year academic activities – since we have to talk about class schedules
and potential majors. For upper-class students, the conversations may steer
towards jobs and careers, two things that are not synonymous.
I’m reminded of the chapter ‘Career Advice’ in Harry
Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. At Hogwarts, fifth-year students are
required to have a conversation with their Head-of-House about possible career
options, and how these might impact which classes they take in years six and
seven, and what grades they would need to secure in their O.W.L. exams for
advancement. When Ron and Harry peruse the pamphlets beforehand, they learn
that Healing requires top grades in a variety of advanced-level N.E.W.T.
subjects; I suppose that’s akin to applying to medical school in our world. On
the other hand, working in Muggle relations only requires a sunny disposition
and passing Muggle Studies at the standard O.W.L. In his meeting with Professor
McGonagall, Harry vaguely indicates interest in being an Auror. (Perhaps he saw
a pamphlet like this one from acciomagic – they also have the other side of the
pamphlet.
Government jobs (Ministry of Magic) require certain paper
qualifications. This is akin to how the civil service functions in many
countries around the globe. The British empire exported its civil service
structure to its far-flung colonies and protectorates. The imperial/civil
service exams in China go back two millennia – thriving in their modern
incarnation as the gaokao university entrance exams. Having the
qualification (denoted today by the degree) served as a proxy that a candidate
was fit or prepared for the civil service. Working at Gringotts Wizarding Bank
(akin to private sector investment banking?) requires a sense of adventure, but
also Arithmancy (which I’ve argued is P-Chem). A number of my
fellow computational chemists took this route after their Ph.D., presumably for
adventure and income. I instead chose the less lucrative profession of
professoring. Presumably one needs a qualification to be a teacher or a professor. Then again, perhaps expertise in an area is sufficient.
Hagrid teaches Care of Magical Creatures and clearly has the knowledge, and
although his pedagogy might be questionable, he certainly has a practical
hands-on approach.
But how is expertise measured? It can be recognized by the
employer directly in a small community where everyone knows everyone else. The
wizarding community in England seemed to all know each other, and be
inter-related particularly if trying to keep the bloodline pure. In a larger
community where you don’t know everybody, how do you separate the competent
from the huckster? You could prove yourself by taking a test-exam-interview.
You could have a qualification (degree, certificate, badge, etc.) that serves
as a proxy that you are knowledgeable in some area. You could be recommended by
someone known to the employer, either personally or by reputation. All three of
these and more take place in our globalized and hypercompetitive environment.
Don’t forget the HR bots that may scan your resume/cv before any of the rest is
even looked at, further driving the rise in credentialism.
We don’t know what other careers Hogwarts students might
have considered and how those conversations with the Head-of-House might have
transpired. If the Weasley twins had declared that their career goal was to
open a joke shop, how would that have gone down? Clearly the parents were
concerned – but in this fictional case, the Weasleys become successful start-up
entrepeneurs. No qualification needed. Would any of the teachers at Hogwarts
even be able to advise them? Take ECON 101?
This is partly why Career Services is useful, particularly
if some folks in that area have had multiple and wide-ranging job experiences.
This is why we bring back alumni or have industry experts come back to give
seminars, workshops, and most important have lunch or a networking event with
the students. Universities are increasing the budgets of Career Centers, not
just to hire staff, but also provide exploratory internships, job site visits,
and more, for the students. My own experience as a professor (with limited job
experience in other roles) means recognizing my multiple and huge blind spots
with regard to career advice, more so as technology accelerates the change in
careers and blends the realms of work and play. In the meantime, I should
remember to engage my students in deeper questions about the meaningfulness of
life and work even though they might just be looking for career advice.
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