A Theory of Change

I went to Amarillo College in May for the Culture of Caring Poverty Summit. Anyone who has read any of my articles knows this was a huge deal for me, and I was so excited to be in the space of like- minded folks and find ways to gain momentum in my own work. I've read just about every piece of literature I could find on Amarillo over the last two years, and one of the things I admire about their work is the commitment to a clear Theory of Change. While this seems simple, I don't think it is at all. Taking the very complex work of a large institution and boiling down what you are doing to three principles is actually brilliant. Decision making becomes simpler as you have a north star to navigate through the shifting landscapes of your work. My team was challenged to bring a theory of change to the summit, and we struggled with it. I took a stab at what it would look like to me personally, and I ended up with the following: "Removing barriers identified in partnership with students creates a sense of belonging and self-efficacy. When belonging and self-efficacy are paired with just-in-time support at key points, the economic reality of students, their families, and their communities will be changed for the better." Like so much of what I do, it probably had too many words, but it helped me start. I evolved to something else, but I'd love feedback on my theory and how I lead toward achieving it. Let me explain a few influences along the way.

So often, I see something from Dr. Donna Beegle, and it hits me right where I live. She has a knack for making complex things simple and the tweet pictured here is one of those times. I have been in higher education long enough to know that we have a knack for making relatively routine things look impossible. This is the sort of thing my friends at Amarillo refer to as "Higher Ed(ing)" things too much. This is completely true for how we serve students in poverty. We make a lot of assumptions about what they need, when in reality, we could just ask them. Who is more of an expert on what is preventing success than the people being prevented? That's why my original theory of change included the language about identifying barriers in partnership with students. In our quest to be "data-driven" I'm afraid we sometimes lose the basics. Our students can tell us what they need. Sometimes we just want to complicate it, or we don't really like the answer. One of our poverty informed projects I want to execute at MSC Southeast is to have students and faculty identify barriers to success, and we will simply make a list, and we will knock down the ones we can. I am a bit of a broken record, but more and more I'm convinced this stuff isn't complicated, it's just hard. Keeping a Theory of Change simple seems important.

Not everyone loves social media, but I've come to appreciate it in lots of ways. Working in a small city in the Midwest can make you feel isolated and forget you have partners across the country (and the world really). Just last week, I was fortunate to come across an article from my Chair Academy Instructor, Dr. Lane Glenn, the president of Northern Essex Community College in Massachusetts. I haven't seen Dr. Glenn in a couple of years, but I'm connected to him on social media (he's a great LinkedIn follow by the way). The article is linked here, (Lane's article) and it's good, but what struck me most as he looked at inequities in higher ed financing was this quote: "The students who need the least, get the most; and the students who need the most, get the least." In my quest for simplicity, this summed it up perfectly. This is the reality those of us fighting poverty in community and technical colleges face every day. When creating my theory of change, I knew I wanted it to have something to do with leveling the playing field. I wish I had thought of Dr. Glenn's phrase before he did, but I'll use it liberally, with credit of course.

The last inspiration came just a few short days ago. I always read Matt Reed's blog, where he goes by the moniker Dean Dad. He's thoughtful, we have similar jobs, and I just find him thought-provoking. So, this week when he wrote about addressing students' basic needs (Undiscovered talent) as part of an academic master plan, I was thrilled. As a Chief Academic Officer, I'm always concerned about being pigeonholed as only concerned about courses and curriculum. I think that would be incredibly shortsighted. If we want better outcomes for students, we need to address them as humans first (thank you Dr. Sara Goldrick-Rab), which means "academics" better look at a broader picture. If Brookdale Community College can put basic needs as part of their plan, we certainly can too. It's becoming a bit of a cliche in my social media bubble, but if we don't do Maslow stuff before we do Bloom stuff, we know how that story ends. So, I was flattered when they interviewed me for my new role at my new college (read here), and the interviewer said I seemed concerned for the whole student. I can't imagine any other way to do this.

So, back to my Theory of Change. I knew I wanted to be simple and direct. I knew I wanted to talk about leveling the playing field within our power to do so, and I knew I wanted to acknowledge the full humanity of students including their rich, full, complicated lives. I landed on the following: "Success achieved with help is success, so every barrier that can be removed should be removed." Maybe it's a mission statement more than a theory of change, but it speaks to me. It says we know there are barriers preventing students from completing their goals. It says we should have the students help identify the barriers, and then we should work relentlessly to remove them. I like this statement because it acknowledges that help is natural and normal, and honestly the help is built in for so many people, but just isn't for students in poverty. My theory of change is deliberately a little vague because I do not want to pre-determine barriers to success. I want to partner with our students and staff to find them. I also like this statement because it acknowledges our limitations by using the words "can be." Some things are currently out of our scope of influence, but rather than fixate on them and do nothing, I'm challenging myself to remove barriers that can be removed. At least ten people have sent me the great article in The Atlantic that says we can't solve income inequality with better schools (read here), and that is 100% true. Inequality is a larger systemic issue and beyond my control currently. However, better schools can still help people improve their outcomes in this system. Better schools can give hope and social mobility. So we can fight on behalf of people in the crisis of poverty by fearlessly identifying and removing barriers to their success, and that is exactly what I plan to do. Success achieved with help is success, so every barrier that can be removed should be removed.