"If you leave, go out the front door"

“If you leave, go out the front door…”

That’s what Leon Panetta said to me when I sought his advice about resigning as president of CSU Monterey Bay under fire from a small, but very active group of faculty, staff, and students.

Leon was, and still is, the most respected person in Monterey County. He came to CSU after leaving the Clinton White House in 1996. His goal was to return to Monterey County (his Congressional district and birthplace) and start a policy center at the university. He and his wife Sylvia created an extraordinary resource at the Panetta Institute and they have, in important ways, contributed to the definition of the university’s character since their arrival home. In short, we were very lucky to have him.

The conflict in question had been boiling for over two years. There were disagreements regarding the philosophy of the university and its larger purposes as well as disagreements about daily conduct and performance. Coming from Vermont, I was an outsider to both California and the CSU system, and these two things were being used as a level against me.

As the pressure mounted on me — including faculty resolutions, protests, a death threat, and a nighttime attack on my home during which my car’s tires were slashed — I was beginning to wonder whether it was time for a change, for me and for the university. When did it stop being just about me and begin hurting the longer-term prospects of the university’s development? Where did my larger responsibility lie?

So that day I was just a tired, dejected, and somewhat beaten-down guy looking for advice from a former Congressional colleague and a friend at the university. I summed up my thinking, pros and cons, for him and waited for his counsel. What he said has stayed with me ever since:

“I don’t think you should leave. This is a political situation and you have a lot of support here on campus and out in the community. Your leaving will only fuel the forces that are aligned against you and that will be bad for the university. So I think you should stay. But if you leave, go out the front door.”

“Go out the front door.” I decided, at that moment, to see the situation through, no matter what happened. You don’t bail on your friends, allies, and colleagues. That was a matter of taking his advice and support to heart, but I took a much larger lesson from Leon that day: Aim high, work hard, and be proud of what you stand for. And when you leave, go out the front door.

"Coping Up"

I have often prided myself on being a good “coper;” a person who, when the times and events require it, can simply deal with a negative situation or result and get through it. As one of my sons once told me, when describing a tough patch in his life, “Dad, I have learned that sometimes the best you can do some days is get through the day, go to sleep and wait for tomorrow to come.” At the time, it struck me as a darned important thing for an 18-year-old to have learned.

And so it has been with me, sort of. For instance, when I was involved with politics, I came to realize that elections are very binary ventures; as complex and interesting, as difficult and divisive as political issues can be. When it comes to elections, you either win and serve or lose and go home.  And as much as I hated losing, I learned to deal with it when that was the hand that was dealt me. I was a “coper.” And coping meant dealing with it and moving on to the next thing. And so it has been at several junctures in my life where my aspirations and reality did not coincide.

But learning to cope does not only involve handling the negatives in one’s life. Coping also involves handling successes in a productive and thoughtful way. This was a lesson I missed several times in my younger days. And failing to “get” that lesson hindered my effectiveness in several cases. This is just one example.

When I was 24, I founded what is now the Community College of Vermont. It was, and still is, an unlikely success story for the institution and the people who worked there in the first 7-8 years, including me. Pretty heady stuff. As a result, when I retired from the presidency at age 32, I had never known defeat as a working professional adult. My mantra, unconsidered, was “If you work hard, things work out.” So, running for Lieutenant Governor of Vermont, which now looks as if it was a gross overreach, seemed like a reasonable next step at the time.

It should come as no surprise that as I headed into the home stretch of my primary election campaign –well ahead of my opponent, the incumbent – I had still not had to experience “Coping Down.” And as a result, I had no idea at all about “Coping Up” to deal with success.

In retrospect, my lifelong friend, Chuck Butler, tried to help me. Chuck had been a journalist and a political advisor to the Governor, and later went on to a distinguished career with Blue Cross in Vermont and then Montana. As I stepped forward to accept the victory that night, he whispered to me, “Be humble.”  And I was, speaking graciously about my now-defeated opponent and my upcoming opponent as well. In truth, however, as I think back on it, I took his human advice as merely tactical advice; a way to handle the evening. By Election Day, I had fallen from a strong front-runner to a narrowly-defeated candidate. Like I said, elections are very binary.

It wasn’t until almost 30 years later that I finally understood that coping with success was equally as important as coping with the negatives in life. I have come to understand that failing to achieve your expectations, whether personal or professional, can be a teacher of tremendous significance if you are ready for the lesson. Chuck wasn’t giving me tactical advice alone, he was trying to teach me  that success, as well as failure, is always qualified by factors beyond your control; by the contributions of others; by the turn of events, and, yes, sometimes by simple luck.

When you learn how to “Cope Up,” how to understand and handle success, it is a very humbling moment.

Sister of Mercy 2 - Janice Ryan

As a result of my developing relationship with Sister Elizabeth, I came to know Sister Janice Ryan, her close friend, confidant, and successor as President of Trinity College, as well as crusader against land mines and other global issues. The three of us stayed in touch throughout my career, until Elizabeth's death, and in Sister Janice's case, up to this day.

Sister Janice helped me see my way down one of the toughest paths I have ever had to follow: Deciding what to do when I left the Congress in 1991.

I first had determined that making yet another political comeback was not in the cards. If you bat .550 in baseball, you go to the Hall of Fame. But if you bat .550 in politics, you need to find another line of work!

I had also decided that, as much as I respected those occupations, I was simply not cut out to be in the insurance or real estate fields. There were opportunities in each that would keep me in Vermont, but I had concluded that education, helping people learn things that mattered, was where my heart and my passion lay.

Yet, the opportunities for me in Vermont higher education were, at best, limited. Because I was a recovering politician, some people were suspect of my long-term plans and, hence, reliability in a leading educational job. Furthermore, my ten year battle to found and institutionalize the Community College of Vermont had, as Sister Janice would confirm, earned me some long-term enemies.

An educational job opportunity had just eluded me and I found myself in Sister Janice's presidential office at Trinity, looking for advice.

She listened carefully as I laid out my situation, walking through the points I had analyzed, but still looking for direction. Then, very gently, she asked me whether I wanted to be president of one or two colleges that were new and in need of leadership. I answered, “No. I have done that already here. I need something more.” Sister Janice sighed and said, “Then you are going to have to leave Vermont. Maybe you will come back, maybe you will not. But the future you are seeking is not here right now.”

I sat in her office, tears in my eyes, as the truth of what she had said, sunk in. And at that moment, the second half of my professional and personal life began. A life away from the Vermont I loved. But also a life full of richness and challenge that has taken me across the country and around the world in my ongoing love affair with learning. And Sister Janice, my friend and mentor, was the one who showed the way.

Sister of Mercy 1 - Elizabeth Candon

Sister Elizabeth helped me learn, at a tender age, the value of kindness coupled with stern resolve and human values. President of Trinity College in Burlington, Vermont, she would go on to become

Secretary of The Agency of Human Services where she was an outspoken advocate for women's rights — not always a popular issue with the Bishop in the 70's and 80's. With these personal qualities, and as a member of a large and politically influential extended Vermont family, she was a force to be reckoned with.

When I first met Sister Elizabeth as an adult, she was the Chair of the Vermont Higher Education Council, the statewide group of all colleges and universities, public and private. She had volunteered to head up a study group to take a look at what we were doing at the community college project as part of the process of determining whether we should become a public institution in Vermont. We had enemies on the Council and only a few friends, but given the situation, there was no way I could say “no” to the offer.

I met with Sister Elizabeth to plan for the visit and I voiced my concern. Eyes twinkling, she replied,” sometimes you just have to trust the process and the people.” The commission was named, the visit came and went, and the report was written and submitted. Although it contained cautions, it was, on balance, very positive and our cause moved one step closer to acceptance.

When I called on Sister Elizabeth to thank her, she held up her forefinger and said, “No thanks necessary. This was important to do. Now you have to go forward and get very good at what the college is doing. That will be all the thanks I need.” When I asked her why she took the risk to her reputation and standing, she replied, very firmly, “The Lord's work is not always done by people in cloth or with religious intent. The people of Vermont need this college.”

Learn to Read the Room

When I was founding what is now the Community College of Vermont, the Chair of our Board was a man named Alan Weiss. Alan was the superintendent of schools in Montpelier, Vermont, a great educator, and one of the shrewdest people I have ever met. He went on the serve many years in the Vermont Legislature before retiring about 10 years ago.

Our strategy for establishing the college was twofold: 1.) begin teaching students immediately and 2.) join the Vermont State College system (VSC). The VSC had been established by statute with a permissive clause that allowed for new members to be approved by vote of the Board and subsequent appropriations approval by the legislature. All we had to do was persuade the Board of Trustees.

This process took a variety of forms, including two study groups comprised of trustees and other higher Ed leaders who reviewed our activities and review and approval of our curriculum by the VSC President’s Council. It lasted almost three years.

When the day of the vote came, Alan and I attended the meeting, waiting patiently for our agenda item to come up. When it did, first he and then I made the case for the college, stressing the lack of access in rural Vermont, our low cost, and our community-based approach. Then the board members began to ask questions and I rose to address each and every one, sometimes before the Chancellor of the system had a chance to respond.

After about 30 minutes, with each board member having had a chance to ask at least one question, I prepared, once again, to rise and respond, when all of a sudden I felt Alan’s hand on my knee. I hesitated and, as the Chancellor responded, Alan whispered, “You don’t need to respond to every question. You have won the vote 5-2. Let the discussion wind down and avoid the possibility of saying something that weakens your position.” Alan was reading the room, listening to the tone of questions, and looking at body language. I was not. About 15 minutes later, the college was taken into the VSC system, pending an appropriation, on a 5-2 vote.

Since that day, I have not always succeeded in following Alan’s advice. But when I have, things have invariably gone better. Learning to listen and look for nuances in dynamic situations was a big lesson for me at 26.

Putting the Students in Control

At OC@KU, we fully understand that learners want choices — among programs, pedagogical modalities, degrees, and price. People want to make up their own minds about these things, which is why we allow them to take control of their education.

The OC@KU approach to learning and degrees emphasizes that learners can move themselves towards reaching their personal, academic, and career goals. By documenting what they have learned from work and life experiences and by taking course assessments, learners can turn their lives into college credit

Starting with our flagship program, the Bachelor of Science in Professional Studies (BSPR), learners who choose to pursue a degree from OC@KU will enjoy the benefits of a very affordable, very personal, and very flexible degree program, allowing the learner to set the pace:

• Affordable: With a low monthly subscription fee, learners can avoid financial aid debt by enrolling in this program.
• Personal: Learners begin their journeys by completing an Individualized Learning Plan (ILP), which allows them to set an academic path towards reaching their goals.
• Flexible: OC@KU boasts a self-paced, fully online format that allows learners to maximize credits from all sources of experiential learning, while providing access to MOOCs for free, high-quality content.

 In my mind, while this is not the only way for a college or a degree program to operate, it does exemplify several characteristics which are fundamentally important in the era we are entering. First, it retains academic rigor and quality through personalized advising and excellent assessment. Second, it puts the learners first, in terms of what they do, when they do it, why they do it, and for how long. Finally, it helps the learners define their current status and future aspirations, giving them the tools and the information needed to determine their own paths. From there we help them travel the path selected.

Our message is simple: It’s your future; we’re here to help you get from where you are to where you want to go.