The pic above was from my career at the University of Wisconsin (UW). At that moment, I was being taped while expounding wisely on the topic of using evidence to make public policy decisions. Excerpts from this interview are still being used many years later. By the way, the issue of Evidence-based Policymaking was one of the several themes on which I focused during my academic career.

I must note that, in some respects, I was a terrible academic. I could never focus on a narrow, single topic and then drill down to where I arrived at that point where I knew everything about essentially nothing. No, I was attracted to the bigger societal topics, the more challenging the better. I most enjoyed seeing relationships among seemingly unrelated issues. I was, alas, a big picture guy who wanted to both understand and to change the world.

Still, I was good (or decent at least) at many things in my career. I was a competent and well-liked leader of a research entity on campus. I could raise research money with relative ease. I could administer complex research projects that might confound many eggheads. I was on the speed dial of reporters around the country to comment on poverty related and welfare reform issues. I was on the road constantly while consulting in D.C. or with state and local governments on a variety of human services and welfare reform innovations. Finally, I was asked continuously to give talks or participate in conferences and like events (apparently, I was edifying or at least entertaining). In short, I was a very busy man.

Yesterday, however, I was walking with two neighbors whom I consider close friends … which is odd since I never think of myself as having friends. The female half of this couple had earned an MSW in social work at UW shortly before I began teaching at the school. She asked something along the lines of whether she might have profited from being a student in one of my classes.

My immediate reaction was to say … of course! But her query got me thinking seriously on this matter. In truth, I didn’t have to teach. I was busy enough, and more importantly raised enough money, to focus only on research, consulting, administration, program and policy development, and giving talks to a variety of audiences. Yet, no matter how busy I was in these other areas, I made time for teaching. That, to put it mildly, was not always easily done.

I gave my friend, and her spouse, a cursory response at the time. But this morning, on further reflection, I sent them an email. An abridged version of this missive is below:

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Ann … your question about the teaching part of my career got me thinking. I had reservations about being a traditional scholar (which I wasn’t). I rebelled against the narrowness imposed by the academic culture (all about publishing technical work in specialized peer reviewed journals targeted to narrow audiences to the virtual exclusion of all else). And don’t get me started on faculty meetings, which were a form of excruciating torture and irrelevance.

But I did enjoy teaching even when I didn’t have the time to devote to it (there were semesters when I taught full time, was the Acting or Associate Director of the Institute for Research on Poverty (IRP), was the principle director of several research projects,  consulted with the feds and with state/local governments, raised research money, and gave many talks around the country). That frantic schedule might well be responsible for the nightmares I still have. 

However, my time in the classroom remained special … to the point where I was determined to teach no matter how frantic my life had become. Shockingly, I came to believe I was talented at it (my supply of endless BS apparently had one positive use). I mentioned one incident yesterday, but there were many such memorable feedback moments. For many years, I would get emails or other communications from former students thanking me for changing their lives, etc. That made it all worthwhile. 

Just one additional story. An undergrad approached me after my policy class one day (I mostly taught graduate students, but I did get stuck with undergrads on occasion). She went on and on about how hard my course was, how she had to study for it all the time, etc. I worried she might have a breakdown (it happens on college campuses far too often). So, I must have stored her name in my head (most undergrads were indistinguishable).

Anyway, a few years later, I had another of those seminal ‘moments.’ At one of the unending conferences I attended, an economist sidled up to me at the buffet line. He was an IRP affiliate on the faculty of Georgetown University (at the time as I recall) whom I knew quite well. He asked if I recalled a certain student (and threw out this name). It hit me (though the last name was different than his), that he was referencing that gal I feared I had driven to desperate straights back in the day. It turned out she was his stepdaughter. My immediate reaction was… ‘Oh my god, he’s going to sue me for the years of therapy she needed after suffering through my class.’

But he shocked me by next saying that she always told him I was the best professor she had at UW and that she had kept all the class notes from my course. That was an epiphany for me. Here’s the thing! You NEVER knew the impact you were having in the classroom. I then recalled a few of my college instructors who had an outsized effect on me. They had no idea that their off-hand comments or casual vignettes shared in class were normative or intellectual turning points in my life. 

Bottom line, my teaching experiences (while a modest fraction of what I did as an academic) remained very consequential to me, irreplaceable, in fact. Apparently, I did impart lessons that shaped many young lives.

Teaching proved well worth the effort no matter the personal cost. This insight has always brought me great comfort. I might have earned far more money had I pursued other career paths, but passing lessons on to the next generation can not be matched for personal satisfaction.

Sorry about the length here. I got started and then carried away. Thanks for asking that question. 👍 
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On occasion, I am asked for recommendations by parents trying to help their kids decide on an undergraduate college. In this regard, I can only speak for myself. At research-focused universities like the University of Wisconsin (which ranks 8th in research spending) many students can get a fine education. It helps, however, if they are self-starting and know where they are going in life.

I was clueless upon entering college. Fortunately, I went to a small, liberal arts university in my hometown (we had no money). Clark University was a very good, but not an elite, school. But it had two advantages. It had the right scale (small and manageable) and undergraduate teaching was prized. My life trajectory was fundamentally transformed there.

Certainly, some of my colleagues at U.W. did try in the classroom. But that is NOT what the scholarly culture rewards, especially at the undergraduate level. You won’t lose points in your annual reviews (which determine pay and promotions) by teaching well but only if your students don’t revolt and you can keep them quiet without breaking a sweat. Devoting too much time to this task suggests you are not a serious scholar … the kiss of death.

At the end of the day, three foci stand out to me as the most profitable and personally rewarding. 1) Keeping the Institute for Research on Poverty afloat; 2) consulting with governmental bodies on innovative policies and programs; and 3) teaching. This last one likely is the most rewarding of all but that remains a close-run thing