So why was I close to giving this qualification up? My first motivation for the qualification was to ‘unstick’ my career. I saw that securing knowledge (especially in the ‘dark arts’ of quality assurance) would help me break the ‘careers/placements guy’ label that I have acquired over the years. For this, I thought, I needed some UK qualification letters behind my name. People in higher education love letters behind their names – I have worked with colleagues who almost needed a second line on their business cards. I did find out that this could be more trouble than it is worth: seeking professional development, signing up for what is essentially an academic qualification was probably the wrong step.And it shows so far in my performance: the more I try to conform
And it shows so far in my performance: the more I try to conform with the requirements of ‘level seven-ness’ (yes, someone actually used that term at a residential — for those who don’t live in the world of academic jargon, the terms is supposed to denote master’s level thinking), the less I achieve. That does remind me a bit of school, if I’m honest – and I really didn’t like school. I wrote three assignments, the first one rightly criticised for a lack of critical thinking but passing; the second one failing on this criterion – so I secured myself some extra tutoring and especially focused on that very point – only to fail the third assignment, for mostly the same reason (which was quite frustrating). Also, I was told, I showed a lack of knowledge in the subject area – which is again a fair criticism, as I focused so much on ‘how’ to answer than ‘what’ to answer.
In essence – I am struggling to fulfil what the course wants me to do, and the more I try to conform, the more uninterested I am becoming – and the less I perform. That’s not a good dynamic – and it does indeed remind me of every structured learning experience I’ve joined in before – did I mention I didn’t like school? I succeeded in university because I ditched the prescribed pathway and self-taught myself the required knowledge – I guess this would count as self-directed study, but it also shows that I’m not necessarily built for being a good (in the sense of compliant) student.
About the usefulness of the course to my career as a manager – let’s be clear: decision making in complex organisations often requires very little critical thinking in the academic sense. It’s not the better argument that wins, it’s the politically more savvy one that does. Currently, it feels like investing into repairing my struggling academic performance wouldn’t be worth it – and that’s why I almost pulled out. I already have a higher qualification than this, and the value I can gain from that perspective is limited – it was worth finding out, but not worth putting ever more effort into, to conform to a standard that is professionally only of limited relevance. I have learnt a lot from this experience so far, but may soon reach the limits of what I would want to get out of it, any more effort might become be a waste of time. I discussed this with the programme manager, and have to say that that was a very constructive discussion. I have decided to continue, as the repair job should be manageable, and I can progress to what might the more interesting part (no essays, but personal development planning and a portfolio). So for the time being, I’m sticking with it.
In the meantime, my career has developed rather nicely without the PGCert – I am now an elected staff trustee on the board of my university. Here I see, and help with decisions that affect a multi-million pound organisation. I gain insight into institutional strategy, management and politics, as well as gain knowledge in areas other than my own. I feel that spending time on this makes more sense than trying to conform with academic learning outcomes so that I get better grades – which is what the PGCert currently feels like. Maybe I will be able to change my perspective, as my journey as a student further develops.
Which leads me to the next point: The third thing that I wanted to experience on the programme was ‘the student experience’ in the post-1992 UK degree system. Now that, I do, and it is a mixed one: being a fairly self-motivated worker, putting in the required time is not a big problem. But whenever I interact with the programme itself, I feel frustrated: the virtual learning environment is usable, but dated (to be fair, they are addressing this). I still succeeded so far in studying pretty much on electronic devices, using no paper – but the use of technology is behind the standards set by other online learning experiences I’ve engaged with. A MOOC would probably have serve me better in that regard. The two presence days were problematic though – getting online at the chosen venue was a struggle every time which is really bad when you are working in the cloud as I do. When organising the annual PlaceNet conference, we secure free online access for all delegates in advance. Teaching materials (paper, and lots of it), and presentation styles tend to be quite old school – true, this represents working practises in higher education, but I don’t need to pursue a degree in order to learn that. To be fair, I am not a friend of outcomes based learning approaches since I think they lead towards performance trending towards the lowest common denominator – which was palpable when questions and instructions at the days moved towards how to get the best grades. This, I clearly disconnected from, given that my grades got worse the longer I’ve been working on this.
So, what have I learnt? A lot, in fact. From a work perspective, I have learnt about how higher education administration thinks about itself, and how it affects organisations so far. I am getting my student experience – a frustrating one – not uncommon for any struggling student. I can’t blame the course – it’s me who’s not performing to the required standards – but I am more aware of its limitations and usefulness to my career. So, as mid-term reports go, this is mine. Let’s see if the second half will be more – or any for that matter – fun.
My ears always prick up when I read something about the usefulness of language learning. In short, I believe it to be something good, without any reservations. And I am dismayed by how language learning falls by the wayside in UK education, against all warnings about it from multiple sources.
Just this morning I read two pieces, which I thought were worth sharing. The first one is about Skype as a translation software, and how this (and other services) may shape language teaching. Having been told 20 years ago when I learnt Japanese, that software would take over soon, I was right not to hold my breath. However, I am pretty sure that this argument will come back, and may become more convincing in the next decade or two, as computing power will become strong enough to facilitate two-language conversations at appropriate speed or accuracy. The article goes on to point out that this may help focus student motivation for language learning. Have a look here: Now Skype can translate for us, what’s the point in learning a language?
The second article looks at the language learner, more specifically the bilingual – which I kinda count myself as, due to being thrown into an English primary school as a five-year-old German who spoke no English. My parents thought that ‘the boy must learn to survive outside’ our then UK home – anyone reading this blog will have heard that sob story before. But back to the article: it points out to the effect on cognitive abilities in bilinguals, which they go into from a neurological perspective. Here it is: Keeping actively bilingual makes our brains more efficient at relaying information
When you follow this blog, you know that I am quite active in pushing the agenda for ‘young people,’ as they venture out into the world of work, and I often push the importance of digital literacy as a basic skill. This post is about older people though – my parents to be exact. Before getting on to my soapbox on how everyone needs to be able to use digital technology to function in this evermore digital work, I have point out that while the need for those two age groups may be similar, their interaction with technology will not be the same.
My dad vs. Facebook
When giving talks or seminars, I often tell the story when I asked my dad to become friends on Facebook. It got me into hot water, to say the least, and following an irate 20 minute phone call at a bus stop in south London, we’ve since been having a debate about this topic (i.e. for the last three years). The arguments against the usage of social media are plentiful (i.e. Facebook and Google being evil mostly), and mine (that the world is working this way now) are acknowledged, but ultimately countered with ‘I choose not to engage’. In that, they indeed have the advantage that they probably won’t need to engage with social media – as opposed to younger people who do need them almost to prove to an employer that they exist, or in some twisted sense, authentic. However, they are dependent on some online services, and will become increasingly so as they age – and the world changes around them. To be clear, my dad is no technophobe – he has worked on programmable ‘calculators’ since before I was born – and still does – but his approach is certainly very selective, in a sense that it is somehow ‘stationary’: The web is being used for email communication and finding information. From a piece of hardware. On the desk. In the study (even though it’s a laptop and there is WiFi). Engagement with e-commerce, flight bookings, and other forms of account management are outsourced to the younger generation (normally me).
Going mobile
However, in dragging them into this brave new world, I have chosen my battles well, and have pushed them to use first a tablet, and now smartphones. With the tablet I gave them two years ago, it was astonishing: my mother, who never has in her live used a keyboard, took to it much quicker than my father, who had used computers when they still contained tubes. It was interesting to experience in practice see what ‘intuitive’ really means in user interface design. She has now opened forms of independent dialogue with me that used to go through ‘the computer’ in the house – in my dad’s study. On another flo … you get the drift. The smartphones introduced the idea of the internet being available outside the home (even on another floor!), and them being reachable during their many travels.
There are a number of considerations behind this: being able to be contacted – and to reach out – when on the move becomes much more important when mobility impairments become the norm. There is also the aspect of being able to know where they are, and being able to support, or organise support wherever they are. This goes especially for the time when there will only be one left. Our and their mortality is a fact of life that has been on the forefront of my thinking ever since last year, I could reach one of my oldest friends just in time before he died – in no small measure thanks to mobile internet technology.
What have I learnt?
This is not easy to answer, as the learning is still going on: watching my parents calling each other and playing with the smartphones at the dining table at home is as entertaining as it is touching. It is also a phase of orientation and learning for them. In my view, in this post-modern world, digital technology and the mobile internet are life-lines, at least in a metaphorical sense. My parents will never become avid Facebook users, but we are able to connect to them, and they can use some of the technologies to reach out and stay in touch. And that is exciting.
The article is about the dearth of digital skills. It is worrying if parents try to discourage their offspring from developing a skill set that is swiftly becoming as important as reading and writing. But there is a wider issue – nothing I’ve learnt recently, as I’ve known this for a long time: parental, or let’s say informal, careers advice is often more damaging than beneficial: in an employment market that is changing as rapidly (both through governmental policy and technological disruption) as it is, chances are that those who have risen into positions of responsibility (even as recently as the last 10 years) will have a significant disconnect to what would bring them there today.
That goes for advice on ‘safe’ sectors to work in (I’m looking e.g. at law and its bottleneck with regards to training contracts), expectations on pay and benefits, and on strategies on how to secure often illusive entry level employment. There is, in my humble opinion, a certain level of social selection – and benefits those who make their way into ‘research focused’ universities. This is often read as ‘better’ universities, benefitting the 15 or so percent of graduates to make it into ‘top’ employers. However, 85% of graduates do not benefit from this – and that’s where all the work lies for struggling careers services. This doesn’t mean that it’s time to tell everyone to learn coding or study IT – IT graduates struggle to find entry level employment quite a bit.
It’s a well documented catastrophe for schools based careers advice, entrenching informal advice (or none whatsoever) even further. There is some evidence that employer engagement both at school and further/higher education level helps. But there is still a need to interpret what they offer, and mum and dad’s advice just does not make the cut, as it’s most likely outdated by, let’s say 15 to 20 years.
And that brings in digital skills. I remember reading in 2002 about how 60% of the jobs in 2010 hadn’t even been invented yet. Well, they are now, and it’s an entirely different playing field. At work, I see that by the type of employment opportunities flowing in post financial crisis. In short: ‘banks down, digital up.’
In the end an appeal to parents, aunts and uncles, friends of the family et al.: your typical teenager is developing a skill set that will help them succeed in their pursuit of entry level employment. You can glimpse it by how well they explain your new iPad to you at Christmas, at how much time they spend instant messaging on their smart phones, and how adept they are at circumventing any online filters you may have installed on your home network (if you have the understanding to do so). Many of this you will find annoying (maybe not the iPad thing) – but it’s what will make them successful. Accept that you will always feel like you’re struggling to catch up – because you are (hell, so am I).
Don’t burden them with 20th century expectations. While your advice on many things is required (just think about helping them develop meaningful, intimate relationships), chances are that your job searching advice is not needed. It may even be damaging. If you can, get them into work experience early on (but let them find it themselves). Let them earn (and lose) money. If you can, encourage them to take a sandwich placement course (because that’s proven to be beneficial). Don’t dismiss what careers advice is left in schools. And don’t undermine the work advisors do in colleges and universities: chances are that their advice will always be better than yours.
Now relax and try to remember how that thing on the iPad worked again…
Sue Thomas (@suethomas), from Bournemouth university, writes in The Conversation, that there is “Nothing wrong with a digital detox but wired nature is better”. She questions commonly held beliefs about the necessity of stepping back from technology to restore some kind of natural state – by immersing yourself into nature. It’s worth reading – I’ll wait until you’re back.
This struck a chord with me, as I’ve encountered this idea many times before: digital as opposed to natural, having per se a detrimental effect on our (social) lives, health, souls, etc. I don’t buy this. Sure, enjoying nature is patently good, and missing the advent of spring while being hunched over 450 levels of fruit ninja (I may show my lack of gaming knowledge here) is problematic.
I think our perception of digital as somehow alien to our ‘nature’ is a fallacy. Humans have not been in their ‘natural state’ since they developed means of influencing their surroundings, using tools and knowledge. Humanity is shaped by using them, and technology, including our digital tools, are the natural extension of this. Besides, most of our nature isn’t in its original, ‘pure’, state anymore either. It has been shaped by centuries of culture and technology.
As it happens, also in The Conversation, Vince Hendricks (@infostorms), from the University of Copenhagen, writes about how the humanities’ potential for understanding human nature is being helped by the Internet, as it is a true (and flawed) repository of human culture. I liked his perspective and the bullish stance he takes. I’ll wait again, just read it and come back.
Both pieces combine into my learning experience for the day (and therefore qualify for this blog): the seeming dichotomy of ‘human nature’ versus ‘technology’ is negated by the fact that technology is ultimately a result of culture – which is natural to you, if you’re human. Trying to escape from it for a while may provide some escapist pleasure, before returning safely into warmth of the post-modern world; but it ultimately is just a form of tourism. I would like a more balanced approach that lets you enjoy the benefits of both worlds – ideally combined. So, immersing yourself in nature, while making use of what centuries of human experience have led you to know and possess, is perfectly fine.
PS: Just to make sure I have some (potentially viral) video content in my blog, and because I think it supports my point – and because it has a cute baby sea lion in it, here’s a fascinating video:
Well, it’s not that I’m teaching languages, but I’m a strong proponent of language learning, both as a career relevant skill, as well as a way for enriching ones horizons. The first one is easy: language graduates fairly consistently high in Destinations of Leavers of Higher Education statistics. In short, they get more jobs more quickly than many other graduates. At the bottom are by the way IT graduates, but that’s I guess one for another day. Employers recognise language skills and intercultural experience. However, the UK is struggling with language provision in schools, and consequently international engagement in university. Which gives graduates from other European countries a rightfully deserved edge when competing for employment. It’s a free market, and employers can choose. And so they do.
The other is the point of personal growth. When my family was transplanted into the UK as part of a scientific exchange in the mid 70s, my parents could not send me to the German school my parents sent my older siblings to. So they decided upon a predictably successful, but radical approach: they put me – who had never been to school, as German schools start later – into my local elementary school. And lo and behold, after six weeks of constant crying, I had picked up enough English to follow classes and play with my fellow inmates. In the spirit of the times, ‘playing’ still required me to regularly act out the German soldier on the school playground – who inevitably gets shot (often repeatedly, as there were only a few of us Germans around) – but hey, you’ve got to soak up the culture as you go along.
Was I bitter about this experience? At the time, it seemed cruel to me – however, in hindsight it became clear to me that I found school in general probably the greater annoyance than having to learn the language to participate. And culturally, being transplanted later into the Bavarian school system was the much bigger culture shock. The intercultural experience though (and there were many relevant critical incidents) impacted my whole family. It can be traced back to this experience that my siblings and I have all spent considerable times living in a variety of countries, and all of us speak three languages other than our own.
I often say to my non-native speaker graduate clients here in the UK, that they won’t get their first job based on their English language knowledge, but on their native or additional languages. And I do enjoy working for an organisation that it widening language learning rather than cutting down on it. I have also no time for the myopic view of protecting ones labour market in the face of immigration – but I have written about this before.
To summarise: being forced to learn languages from a young age has not only given me the opportunity to experience things I’d never thought I would, but has also shaped my career. As I often say at public forums, if you want to improve the life chances of the generation you are responsible for raising or educating, instilling language learning is the greatest gift you can give.
A few days ago, I blinked. Actually just a bit, but for anyone knowing me – or if someone would have been around – they would have seen that I was moved. Not to tears, but with just a bit of emotion. And get this – it was over an award (well, a very very little one): I was promoted to another stripe on my Brazilian jiu-jitsu belt. That makes two white stripes on a white belt – barely visible to the naked eye.
Yet it got to me. I’ve been practising martial arts for almost 30 years, and I never really cared about belts – and I certainly don’t compete. I’m also what my significant other would call a bit of miserable git (she might use stronger verbiage) – not thrilled by what would make most people happy: awards, medals, prizes – or just winning something. I even wrote a blog post about how much I don’t connect to stuff like that.
But, in the spirit of this blog – I’ve learnt something about myself: some things, even some awards, get through my Prussian protestant upbringing (of work for its own sake); and I’m happy to admit it (well, this just this once). I was moved by getting that second stripe. Having thought about it, what made it so touching, was that it felt quite incidental. I didn’t have to pursue it – I wasn’t expecting it, and I wouldn’t have been disappointed for not getting it; just happy for those others who were called up.
One principle that guides me personally, as well as professionally, can be summarised along these lines: ‘If you compete with others, it will make you bitter. If you compete with yourself, it will make you better.’ Martial arts training is in my view one of the best ways to live that motto. It’s all about looking out for each other – while trying to perfect oneself. That is often a very lonely pursuit, as it can exclude others on the journey.
But on occasion, it is nice that the effort has been noticed. I don’t think I got my stripe for my excellence in this new discipline – I think I got it basically for not giving up. I had a lot of pauses in the last few months – and this little gesture did a thing I wouldn’t have expected: it motivated me. So there you have read it: I am human after all.
This blog started out as ‘What I’ve learnt recently … in one short paragraph’. What I tried to achieve was finding my voice on a number of issues that interest me: (higher) education (policy), the impact of technology on (work) life, work ethics and my personal opinions on these topics – but always from the perspective of what I had learnt from the experience, and not with too much effort. Call it an exercise in reflection, or an oversharing of my thoughts, 2013 was really the year I got into blogging a lot more. This is not my only blog – I run one on my personal life as a German in a small town in the UK (yeah, I’m one of those pesky EU citizens who came here taking your jobs…), and one about my decades long commitment to sci-fi role playing games (yeah, so I’m a nerd).
The themes and respective blog posts that came up this year repeatedly were indeed my experience being a foreigner – oh wait, a committed European citizen living and contributing to the UK society and economy. The recent media rhetoric about (the wrong kind of) EU citizens on this rankled with me on a number fronts – and I summed this up in my blog post about the gift of migration. What I learnt though was a bitter lesson – that in the current climate an anti-immigration argument will always win over an economic benefit in public opinion, and the benefits that international students bring to the country are no exception.
I know all this sounds rather pessimistic – however in the deepest time of sadness came a glimmer of hope: I was about to embark on my biggest and most painful personal lesson this year, when I was on my way to say goodbye for the last time to one of my oldest friends – it was one of those young people who showed me that this generation is not lost; they are just in need of the occasional help and advice, but they are perfectly able to find their way – which requires them to have professional careers advice. And this lead me to re-confirm my professional commitment to doing just that: helping others fulfil their potential, which I think lies at the heart of any careers and employability related work. And that’s not necessarily always about raising standards, expectations, or competitiveness – it’s often more about a realistic self-assessment and going for what young people want, not what they should want.
What will 2014 bring? For me (and pretty much the rest of our economy), it will be all about learning to interpret and understand data. That’s my prediction – and I’m looking forward to seeing whether I will look back on my pursuit of this agenda in a year’s time.
Hm, as for an editorial line, this is interesting – we’re confronted with very varied perspectives in the last two days: on how to advise his son about ‘serious subjects’ [NB: the link actually says ‘proper’], Rhiannon, whose writing I normally like, delivers an opinion piece right out of Michael Gove’s (!) toolbox, about how rubbish such advice is – at least as long is out of the mouths of trained professionals.
Let’s get this straight – many ‘professionals’ suck at their jobs, and don’t make good role models. We see examples of bad practice pretty much where ever we turn. So who will guarantee that those industry representatives who are supposed to go into schools give advice to young people that is impartial, well informed and confidential? And – who makes the judgement call who is an appropriate (professional) role model in the first place?
Just like teachers, professional careers advisors are there to help young people understand the world around them, and how to navigate a job market that is so complex and fast-changing that the parent generation has normally no clue what is happening ‘out there’ – at least not if it’s not directly within their own sector. [NB: I work in the field, but I am not a careers advisor]
There’s plenty of space for industry speakers, professional mentors and informal advice from parents – but pulling the direct one-to-one advice (and the funding for it), and then replacing it by online and phone ‘support’, takes away the opportunity for young people to engage with their potential in a safe and unbiased environment. It strikes me more as a cost-cutting measure than an attempt at improving young people’s chances – funnily enough, for especially vulnerable groups personal advice is still available; can’t be that bad then.
And that’s exactly what the CBI is saying on this topic: what was there as a support structure has pretty much been broken by recent policy. So even the employers that are supposed to go in and do a ‘better job’ than qualified careers advisors are asking for careers advice to be strengthened and enabled again.
As someone running a careers service in higher education, I worry about the consequences of these policies, and how they will affect the students coming our way in the next few years – and what repair job we may have to do in order with all those young people who never learnt the basics of career decision making in school. And for that job (not just checking CVs and doing silly online assessments), there are professional careers advisors.
I respect personal opinion and experience (and working in the field, my own experience has been indeed varied) – however I question what the Guardian will do to balance this opinion piece with something that is more informed and balanced.
I am however not really holding my breath, as I normally don’t see much of a rational discussion on education, young people and careers advice.