Friday 23 November 2018

Giving a shit

(HOT OFF THE PRESS! This post is freshly written. It is not a scheduled post.)

According to Mael and Ashforth (1992), organisational identification is the feeling of connectedness with the organisation that one belongs to. It's almost as if you and the organisation you are part of are actually the same entity. People with strong organisational identification behave in characteristic ways. For example, they tend to use the word "we" instead of "they" when talking about the organisation.

Have your eyes glazed over yet? Sorry about that. You can take the psychology student out of the laboratory but you can't take the laboratory out of the psychology student.

Let me break down organisational identification into simple, albeit crude, English for you. Organisational identification means giving a shit about the group you are in.

Is that better?

Take myself as an example. I'm studying Communications and New Media (CNM) at the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences (FASS) at the National University of Singapore (NUS). So I have three social identities linked to my current educational life:
  1. I am a CNM student.
  2. I am an FASS student.
  3. I am an NUS student.
I'm very strong in organisational identification. So I care deeply about the wellbeing of my department, my faculty, and my university as a whole.

Which is why I involve myself in online discussions about CNM, FASS, or NUS. It's not that I like being a busybody, but I feel the need to intervene in order to promote the reputations of CNM/FASS/NUS, or protect them from harm.

Enough about workplace psychology theory. Where is this post leading to?

Here's the story.

On 15 November, an NUSWhispers poster, ostensibly a Year 4 CNM major, lamented that they were "pretty upset" because "almost all the good profs left" and "most of the fun courses are gone". I saw the post and thought nothing of it at first, because
  1. I don't feel the same way, and
  2. complaint posts are very common on that platform but most of them fizzle.
But of course, being a CNM major myself, I couldn't help but leave a comment to joke about Bertha Henson. It's not that I have anything against Bertha Henson. I haven't met her in my life and don't believe in passing judgements on people I've never personally interacted with. It's just that the sound of the words "Bertha Henson" tickles my funny bone somehow. Don't ask me why. My mind is strange.

Anyway I thought that was that. But two days later another post appeared on the platform, seizing on the topic of the first. The new post worried that CNM would lose out to the Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information (WKWSCI) because it was getting rid of "useful modules" while keeping "tons of useless theoretical modules". It also called on the "dude in charge" to "spare a thought for budding communications practitioners".

Look, an online falsehood! I had to set the record straight. "It's not a dude in charge," I wrote in the comments section. "She's a she." I went on to say that I was equally concerned but reminded everyone to be appreciative of the Instructors we have left.

The next day, another post was published on this topic. The writer acknowledged my point that we still have good teaching staff, but was afraid that they, too, would quit their jobs soon. The writer also asked if the department would listen to us if we raised these concerns to them.

At this juncture I must make clear that I don't have insider information on the happenings within the CNM department. But my comment in response to the latest post proved eerily prescient.

This is my comment in full:
Hopefully the remaining ones are okay enough with whatever the circumstances are to stay. If they wanted to leave I think they would have done so already. And I suspect the department is aware of these concerns. It would be ironic if they did not monitor this channel for mentions of them, given what they teach!
I don't know if my comment forced the department to do what they did. Maybe they were hesitating on whether to act on these posts and my comment was the straw that broke the camel's back. Or perhaps they were already going to take action anyway, with or without my comment. But on 19 November, a mere four days after the controversy had started, the department sent out an email inviting students to participate in a focus group session which aimed to gather feedback on the teaching and curriculum of CNM.

The only thing I knew about focus groups was that they are used in qualitative research. My Introductory Research Methods class in polytechnic had taught me that much, but didn't go into great detail about it because psychological researchers like numbers, not words. But I also knew that I had to attend this particular focus group. I'd never been involved in one before, and it would be an enriching experience for me. Besides, I have lots of opinions on how to make CNM better, and was excited to have the opportunity to share them with the management.

I signed up that very same day, and was rewarded with a confirmation reply the following day that, infuriatingly, misspelled my name despite the fact that I had typed my name twice in the registration email. It happens fairly often and it pisses me off each time.

Some preparatory work was needed. I'm strongly introverted so I get stressed easily in group settings. Sometimes I'll forget what I wanted to say or my mind will go blank when it's my turn to speak. To combat this, I recalled something I had read in one of my psychology books in a previous life. It would help to allay my anxiety if I got my thoughts in order beforehand and wrote them down. So that's exactly what I did.

The day of the focus group dawned. I was thrilled but a tad nervous. Fortunately, it turned out that only one other student came, rather than the four that the department had been hoping for. After all, it's reading week, and most students are studying for exams. I have exams to study for too, but the focus group was too important to me and I couldn't bear to miss it.

In the room, there were: the department head, the department deputy head in charge of curriculum, some random young Chinese professor who was just observing, one of the department administrative executives, the other student, and me. The small group size put me at ease, and also allowed me to have more airtime in which to present my views.

The solid interviewing technique of the department head helped tremendously too. Her positive reputation among scholars and students in her subfield isn't unfounded, as one doesn't gain respect in academia by lacking research skills. She wasn't aggressive in her probing questions, giving the other student and I plenty of space to elaborate on our points on our own. When we had finished speaking, she would summarise what we had expressed by paraphrasing with her own words to make sure we were all on the same page before moving on. And she didn't get defensive at the criticisms, instead verbalising her own concerns about our suggestions in a mature manner so that we could understand and brainstorm possible workarounds together.

I was pleased to know that she had seen my comments on NUSWhispers. She even thanked me for the contributions. Truth be told, NUSWhispers is just the tip of the iceberg. I do most of my "work" on Reddit, which is more suited to longform discussions.

What made me happiest, however, was the discovery that my outlook for the department is quite well-aligned with hers. She told us of some new measures she has in the pipeline to fix some of the major problems students face regarding module choices and timetabling. They struck me as being sensible solutions and I voiced my support for them. After the focus group was over, she had a short chat with me one-on-one and I told her that my purpose in attending the day's session was not because I wanted to see how I could benefit myself between now and my graduation. I'm heading into my final academic semester in January, after which I do a six-month internship. Whatever initiatives she introduces will be too late to have any effect on me. And anyway, I don't think the degree structure that I have gone through is so terrible as to render me completely unemployable. What I hoped to achieve by attending the day's session was to give my perspective on how we can tackle an issue that I've noticed on various social media and am troubled by: the perception on the street among outsiders, especially pre-university students who are deciding where to enroll, that CNM is inferior to WKWSCI because a degree from the latter is a surer ticket to employment in the communications industry than one from the former.

Bottom line: CNM has lost its shine and I want it to regain its lustre.

Having met the department head in person and hearing her talk about what she plans to do, I think she's capable of digging CNM out of this hole. She took over a department in a shambles, and from her first day on the job even had to replace a whole bunch of office staff and faculty members who had left at the end of the previous department head's reign. It will take her a couple of years to patch all the leaks and stabilise the ship. But she seems serious about engaging with the students, and will be holding a town hall meeting with CNM majors in January. Overall, she appears to have a vision for the future of CNM, including a unique proposition to set it more clearly apart from WKWSCI. To cut a long story short: she gives a shit.

The proof in the pudding is in the eating, of course, and only time will tell if she can deliver results. But right now from where I'm sitting, the pudding looks pretty damn delicious.

Reference: Mael, F., & Ashforth, B. E. (1992). Alumni and their alma mater: A partial test of the reformulated model of organizational identification. Journal of Organizational Behavior, 13(2), 103-123.

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