Fathers, sons, and holy ghosts

Nathan and David Tuttle, Steve and Michael Logan

In 1987 when I interviewed to be an Area Coordinator at Trinity, I was part of the second wave of this newly established position. The needs had evolved for more entry-level live-on positions in campus housing nationwide. As more students lived on campus and as their needs changed the requirement for oversight was increasing. The house-parent model was becoming extinct.

I was vying for a vacant position because two people from the first wave of Area Coordinators, including Steve Logan, were moving elsewhere. Steve was headed to Stanford. I was enamored with the Trinity position because I clicked with the people here and loved the campus and city. (That's a familiar story!) Fortunately I was hired and my life would never be the same. And yet...

Some 30 years later Steve and I have reconnected, though we had been in touch off and on over the years, running in the same professional circles. Steve has ascended through the housing profession at bigger schools, including SMU where he was the Senior Executive Director of Residential Life and Student Housing. He currently holds a similar position at Embry-Riddle in Daytona Beach, Florida. Poor Steve. I have persisted at Trinity, having had the good fortune to be hired twice and promoted twice by mentor and friend Coleen Grissom. Of course she hired Steve too, way back when.

My new bond with Steve is our sons. Last October young Nathan Tuttle was hired as a Residential Life Coordinator (the former Area Coordinator position) at Trinity. This summer, young Michael Logan joined the team in the same role. We are all the stars of our own movies. Until we have children. I think Steve would concur. The kids are the stars now, and we are both extremely proud of them (and all of our other kids) and are thrilled to have Nathan and Michael at Trinity right where we were three decades ago. (Nathan even lived in the same apartment I started out in.) Trinity was good to us and we have done okay too.

Of course Nathan grew up on this campus. Like me, he has seen the slow pace of change here. Steve got to take a 30 year break and upon his return he has seen the things that have remained constant and the significant changes. The culture here is largely unchanged: the education of our students remains  at the core of our mission. The hands on touch, a hallmark of the "Dean Coleen" era is part of the campus ethos. The campus remains beautiful and there is still a lot of red brick. Conversely, every residence hall has been renovated (at least once) since Steve roamed the halls. The Miller fountain is in a different place, the Bell Center is new and newly renovated, Northrup Hall has been torn down and been resurrected, like a phoenix. The Science Lecture Hall and Cobb-Racey has given way to the Center for Science and Innovation. We own apartments. And students no longer need building keys to gain dorm access, but use their Tiger Cards.

What is more, students no longer say "I pay $14,000 a year to go here, so I deserve..." (By the way, that was roughly my starting salary.) Those really were the days. The price tag now is $56,000 per year. Of course many students receive deep discounts and even full payers are paying roughly one half to two thirds of what it costs to be here.

The changes can be attributed to three things: technology, the arms war among campuses to deliver the best of everything, and human resources. In 1987 technology consisted of black and white TVs, huge stereos, calculators, and a clunky main-frame computer. Now millions go into hardware, software, and WiFi befitting a residential campus.

When prospective students tour campuses they make note of the BEST each school has to offer, and seek a place that combines all of those elements t the highest level. We may have great dorms and a superior science facility, but UT has a more elegant business school. Students and families pay a lot and want the best. Of course the best in academics is a given, and fortunately we deliver in that area across the board. But people want amenities and universities have fallen over themselves to deliver. This is how we ended up with the proverbial rock wall at some colleges -- a symbol of excess to many in an age where many struggle mightily to scrounge up tuition while working and raising kids.

One of the other drivers to higher costs are salaries and the increasing positions across campuses. When Coleen Grissom led a staff retreat in 1987 about 25 people attended. Today, that same area is comprises roughly 45 people. Perhaps we had ghosts doing the work of others back them. Or maybe it was a simpler time. Pete Neville led Student Activities. Now his job is split by a director, a coordinator for Greek Life, and a student organization staff member. One counselor handled a handful of accessibility-related requests. Now two full-time people do so. Likewise, Jeff Powell managed Career Services when I began here. Today roughly eight people do his work.

This is the same all across campus. We had one Athletic Director and several full-time coaches. There were a handful of people in the Alumni and Advancement area and now there re over 30. The same for Admissions. And, faculty salaries have increased and we continue to work feverishly to keep pace with the number of positions and equitable salary.

Of course we didn't have to add these positions. But they were demanded of us. Technology has brought shortcuts but added work (and staffing). Students come to us with needs for more counseling and academic support. The government regulations we face have required additional positions in order for us to be in compliance. And as we benchmark across other campuses we see where we fit in the escalating professionalism of services. Small schools feel it differently too. There are fixed costs to each department and position added.

None of this is a bad thing. But it is misunderstood. While many bemoan the rising costs on one hand, they demand increased services, better facilities, and more amenities. Compare campus food service operations from the two eras and student demand for more, more, and more as a perfect example. This is how we have gotten here. This is our reality. And this is why some schools are losing pace and folding and while others work to offer more to outlast the others.

At Trinity, the day-today working worlds of Michael Logan and Nathan Tuttle are not that different than when their dads were here. Our mission has always been to serve, support, and challenge our students. It is heart-warming to see our legacies continued, especially by our own flesh-and-blood.

But they probably don't notice our ghosts and the ghosts of our former colleagues walking the halls and filling our meeting rooms. Those ghosts... Today they are vastly out-numbered.