| Dear Faculty Friends and Colleagues, If you’re on the Danforth Campus, this will be the third message you’ve received from me. If you’re primarily across the park, this will be the first. I began as provost and executive vice chancellor for academic affairs on August 1. In this role, I interact frequently with the Faculty Senate Council, and it is my colleagues from our School of Medicine on the Council who deserve the thanks and credit for the inclusion of Medicine faculty in my communication going forward. As the academic leader charged with elevating our academic mission, I’ll share a few of my experiences with our faculty that have helped me better appreciate our candid, thoughtful, and inspiring community. I recently had coffee with one of our colleagues who said something that stuck with me: “It sucks not to trust.” That line resonated because it signaled to me both what that person was feeling and what that person wishes they could feel. I’m well aware that not every member of our faculty feels valued, informed, or in some cases, respected. I hope that this is not the common experience of our faculty community but it’s problematic if even a handful feel their life’s work and passion don’t matter at the place they call their academic home. This message may not be the forum to deeply examine this issue, but suffice it to say I’m keenly aware of these dynamics. I also want to acknowledge the frustration that I know some of you—certainly not all of you, but a non-trivial number—feel. It’s trite to say that change is difficult, but it’s also true. Change is made more difficult when so much is happening so quickly and when explanations and the rationale seem lacking. And yet, because of our frank dialogue and shared love for this institution, I’m nonetheless quite positive about our future. You’ve all contributed to our shared mission. I appreciate it, and I am confident that we can build upon the excellence of your work. Let me give you two concrete examples of faculty work I’ve been privileged to see recently: First, I was honored to attend Aki Ishida’s installation. As you probably know, Aki is an architect in the Sam Fox School who works with light and glass (among other things). As I was making my way to her talk, I must admit, as I later told her, that I wondered if I could relate to her specific area of study; I see no shame in admitting I don’t know much about glass. But after only a few minutes, I wanted to know a lot more about glass, and for a brief moment I even managed to convince myself that I knew quite a bit about glass before the delusion faded. The point here, of course, isn’t my momentary self-produced grandeur; it’s that Aki has an amazing ability to translate her profession and passion to a non-expert audience—to teach through her research. The beauty and practicality of making her work relatable and approachable is that it creates the possibility of collaboration with colleagues who, like me, might not have appreciated where the unexpected intersections of disciplines can be found. Second, I had the honor of presenting Andrew Knight with his medal as part of his chair installation. Again, I was reminded of the need to cast aside my preconceived notions when being introduced to a field of study that might not fit the scholarly norms with which I’m more familiar—Andrew left my initial skepticism in the dust. I was enthralled both as a learner (“this is cool”!) and as a leader (“this is useful”!). His examples of the roles that relationships and emotions play in the workplace left me with plenty of follow-up questions and ideas for practical application. And there’s the segue to my first point: how some people in our community feel right now. Feelings matter. Our internal motivators as scholars, educators, and care providers are being challenged. Whether felt directly through things like funding decisions or absorbed through the zeitgeist of the unknown, these forces can make concentration, motivation, and resilience—not to mention results and findings—seem to be, or actually be, less attainable. It’s important to remember that we have a choice in how we approach our situation. With a clear focus on the core strengths that make us us, it’s evident to me that we’re on the edge of catapulting ourselves into the upper echelon of higher education in ways we’ve never seen before. I won’t subject you to a pep talk, and I’ll also acknowledge that this journey has a corollary: an institution can’t be strong in everything. But, as it has always done, our academic mission will guide our decision-making as we shape what’s next for WashU and higher education. How fortunate we are that WashU is filled with people who love the university, are amazing at their important work, and express themselves in a place that welcomes the healthy exchange of ideas. Onward! Best, Mark |
| Mark D. West Provost and Executive Vice Chancellor for Academic Affair |