Thank You for Your Service. Now Please Disappear.
Written by Christopher Gregory, PhD​
“We do not think you are the future of the Advising Center.”
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The words came from my boss, the Vice President of Student Success. She was the leader of “the third pillar of student success at the university,” the new university President had announced, attempting to convince the campus community when the president wasn’t sure what to do with an administrator caught between the true two pillars of academic and student affairs.
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I had walked to this eleven-minute meeting bedecked in suit and tie, clutching the obligatory leather folder with nary a note within, talking with my late father in my head and asking him to be with me as I suffered this academic walk-the-plank after twenty-three years of service to the same university. Awaiting me were my boss as well as the Vice President of Human Resources. While I had mostly enjoyed good working relationships with both since my inception at the U, I realized now that any meeting with this combination is not good. Three months before, my boss handed me a PIP, or Performance Improvement Program. Presented as a criticism of my work—curiously, the first of a long thirty-year career—the PIP was also a pledge to support me in fixing my shortcomings. The VP of HR had turned on the HR speak in proclaiming, “We want you to be successful!” But the reality of the PIP had come to me from an unlikely oracle: Anthony, my college roommate. When we met for our annual December dinner at Olive Garden, I told him of my precarious position, but also of my plan to address the requirements of the PIP and continue in my career. Looking up from his spaghetti and meat sauce, he paused before opining in a deadpan, “You’re a dead man walking.” Despite working diligently on the PIP, including attending a national conference to learn the ways of assessment, followed by drafting a detailed one-, two- and three-year plan with the approval of my boss, one day she simply said, “Oh, you passed the PIP. But I’d assign it a C-.”
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As part of my dismissal, I was awarded a generous severance package—“I mean, you’ve been here for twenty-three years, so you deserve it,” I’d been assured—that included the quid pro quo that I work for the U for six more months! Apparently, I was the perfect short-term candidate but grossly inadequate to oversee the Advising Center for the long term due to my perceived inability to grasp advising assessment. I experienced my professional death one day at a time, the last day to be Friday, September 13, or just enough labor to lead the school through the onboarding of the crucial incoming freshman class. The two VPs assured me that I “owned the narrative” of a story they’d written, so I told no one of my slow demise. That changed in May when it slipped into the public record that I had filed for retirement, so I gathered my staff together and explained that I would be leaving in mid-September as I was “not the future of the Advising Center.” One staff member gave me a hug, another said, “You’re the best boss I’ve ever had,” and the other texted, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Over the summer, as we tallied gains in welcoming and registering students I’d never get to know, I dismantled my office one piece each day—a painting here, box of books there—but filled the closet with all items emblazoned with the university logo. As I told my folks, I didn’t want to leave any trace that I had ever been there. After twenty-three years, I had been retired, and I disappeared.
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You can read additional essays by Dr. Gregory on the human condition, the celebration of life, and the resiliency of the human spirit at cgregoryphd.com
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When the Path Diverges: Lessons from a Professional Departure
Written by Gloria Laureano, EdD
Careers in higher education and student affairs are rarely a straight line. Sometimes they even include periods of reflection away from an institution that can be helpful in recalibrating oneself and finding our north star. We often envision and plan for a steady climb, but I learned recently through my own personal journey that some of the most profound growth happens when the path diverges. Said divergence can be by choice, misalignment, or an unexpected organizational shift. Stepping away from a long-held role is a complex transition, yet it offers a rare vantage point to evaluate what truly matters in our professional lives.
For me this process included a series of emotions that I called distractions, followed by an overwhelming outpour of colleagues who turned friends, family, friends that have become family, and friends outside the industry who remind us of our value. Yes, it is true, when a divergence occurs that feeling of being less than creeps in, and that is another distractor. Through this lived experience I am learning that my peace is important to have clarity of mind and agile strategy that yields results to shared goals. Being in an executive role has been an honor with a fragile future that can shift as new leadership, philosophies, and culture changes. While it feels lonely at times, particularly when one finds that the future is not clear, we find that divergence is more common than one thinks and that individuals have the option of being miserable or doing something about it. My choice is to do something about it and sharing my journey is part of my learning process. I have spent a few months in the processing but I learned that there are key lessons for me as I am at the crossroads professionally. My experience has been in the following four themes:
1. The grace of authentic transition
There is a quiet strength in being honest about why a chapter is closing. Whether a departure is initiated by an institution or stems from a fundamental misalignment of vision, the instinct can be to obscure the details. I learned that when a role and a leader are no longer in sync, acknowledging that misalignment isn't a failure, but an act of integrity. Choosing to speak truthfully about a departure allows you to honor your past contributions while keeping your heart open to where you can next make the greatest impact. This is where friends who have familiarity with the experience come in to help us and guide us to own the narrative of our departure for one to transform a "setback" into a demonstration of integrity. It demonstrates that you value the mission and the work enough to recognize when the environment no longer fosters mutual success.
2. The purpose of service and the courage of cultural alignment
There is a beautiful season for every role, and true professional success isn’t measured by the years on a resume, but by the integrity of our contribution. While we often prize longevity, our greatest contribution is staying true to where we can do the most good. When our path no longer aligns with the organization’s direction, moving on isn't a departure from our commitment, it’s an investment in our next chapter of growth. Recognizing this divergence early is not a sign of failure; it is a sophisticated act of professional maturity. It honors the institution’s need for a specific type of leadership while honoring your own need to serve where your talents are most effective. It allows us to step away with a full heart, knowing we served well while we were there, and leaving the door open for new leadership that fits the current needs of the community. This may sound easy, but the reality of it is different. In this space one holds on to a “hope” that things are going well, when one knows intuitively that mutual success is not possible anymore. During this period one questions whether initiating the departure signifies giving up, and the uncertainty of not having a true plan for a “next role” is not considered an option. Thus, we continue trying until such time when the other party initiates the process to separate. Yes, this sounds harsh, particularly as one and others see how great a talent one brings to the team, but it is the reality that sometimes we don’t want to face. When we realize that it is not anyone’s fault but rather the realization that for some things to move in the direction that has been planned, we no longer fit the role at that juncture in time. This is when one realizes there is a cultural shift and alignment that does not make sense for one to continue with the organization.
3. Cultivating an Inclusive Identity
It is easy for our identities to become inextricably linked to our titles and the institutions we serve. A departure forces a necessary decoupling. It reminds us that our value, the decades of experience, the strategic wins, and the mentorship we’ve provided travels with us. An inclusive professional identity is one that encompasses both the "research powerhouse" and the "mission-driven institution," seeing every stop as a chapter in a larger story of service. Cultivating an inclusive identity means honoring the professional, the personal, and the aspirational parts of yourself equally, knowing that you are more than any single business card could ever capture.
I learned that each chapter at the various institutions where I have served and in the various roles I have had the honor to hold, are experiences that don’t define me, they actually refine me. This is a powerful realization because for me it meant the difference between moving forward or staying in the past. I chose to move forward because like Rafiki said once “ the past is in the past there is nothing one can do to change it”.
4. The Gift of a Purposeful Pause
The period following a departure is often viewed as a void to be filled as quickly as possible. Instead, I am considering it an intellectually vibrant space, a season of essential renewal, a time to conduct a 'heart-led review' of my own journey. This is the time to conduct a "peer review" of your own career. It is an opportunity to look back at programs built and traditions established with a fresh perspective, asking: What worked? What was fueled by data versus habit? And what kind of impact do I want to make next?
This has been an opportunity to celebrate the traditions I’ve built and the students I’ve championed, while gently letting go of the strategies that no longer serve my vision. This space has allowed and continues to allow me to synthesize decades of experience into a refined wisdom that I will carry into my next community."
I was recently asked what if anything would I change from my past experiences that would keep me at those institutions where I have served in almost three decades of career. My response was simple, I would change nothing. You see, one comes into a career because it is a passion to pursue, where one finds purpose beyond our personal life. I have always seen myself as an engineer of minds, an opportunity to create experiences that transform students’ lives. When our time ends in one place, it means the door is opening for something new. If we remain focused in the past, we will never advance. When we question whether we should or not take the next step we tend to be conservative, fly low, and continue there where the ground is sterile for oneself. If instead we embraced the person we are, the passion that drew us to all those institutions, students, and initiatives that have left a mark on campus, we would be unstoppable. That is where I am now, in the walk of my new reality and not defining my worth by the role titles I hold or will hold, but by the leader I am who knows how to refine, re-imagine, and whom with authenticity steps forward to her future.
This process has been difficult to walk, but timely to engage. It has been very reflective and very rewarding. For the first time in a long time, I have truly taken the time to re-engage myself, my purpose, passion, and values. Stepping away has been an incredibly transformative experience; it has solidified my vision and made me realize just how much I value the perspective gained from this experience.