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“Save Me, Scene!”: Advice on advisors
“I’m a leader for a student group on campus, and I’m super frustrated with my Campus Life advisor and feel like they aren’t really hearing students out this year. I’m wondering if you have any advice on how to go about approaching a conversation with an adult who has power over you, but who isn’t necessarily doing their job effectively.”
— Crying in the Club
Dear Crying,
Whether they’re an advisor, boss, or teacher, working with any unsupportive supervisor can be frustrating. At best, they’re simply not very helpful in answering your questions, leading to more work and confusion on your end. At worst, they actively impede your progress, bogging you down in micromanagement or denying you opportunities to grow and learn. When leadership for an organization you love turns into a chore, it’s not only disheartening, but sometimes feels antithetical to why you chose to get involved in the first place
There isn’t always one easy answer for how to deal with an unhelpful advisor, and you’re right in pointing out that there’s a difficult nuance in navigating a tumultuous relationship with an adult who has power over your activities. And since you can’t change their behavior outright, what you can focus on is how you respond.
In high school, I was president of my school’s moot court team, which had grown from a little rag-tag team of eight to sending over two dozen students to state competition each year. When I took over the reins my senior year, we’d been essentially running the club entirely independent of school administration. That August, though, we received news that student affairs was undergoing some restructuring, and that we’d be working with a new administrator.
The relationship quickly soured: Administrators from student affairs started sitting in on our practices, interjecting after any behavior they found to be objectionable, and they implemented strict guidelines into our tryout and team-selection process. Students in leadership, they said, could not be involved with the tryout process in any way. Instead, we’d have to locate three independent adults to judge tryouts, which were two days away. We did our best to acquiesce to their demands and, by running around during our lunch periods, assembled a panel of an AP Bio teacher, a statistics teacher, and an English teacher to judge a mock legal brief. This was only one of dozens of other demands that we found incomprehensible and erratic.
Despite our efforts, over spring break, I received a long email detailing our club’s infractions, concluding with the line, “Due to the executive leadership’s repeated inability to manage their club responsibilities, we have decided that Moot Court will not be able to move forward with their activities this year.” I cried, as did our faculty advisor, who then quit.
Throughout the following weeks, we had to plead our case to administration before they eventually reinstated our club. The entire process was not only exhausting but, more significantly, humiliating. We did place second in the state that year, so I suppose this story has a happy ending. However, despite our achievements, what really overshadowed the whole season was the drama surrounding the club, and how difficult it had been to navigate through all of it. Even thinking about it now gets me fired up.
Although the situation was a little ridiculous (there is something to be said about beefing with 17-year-olds over a club based on writing fake legal briefs), when I reflect on the experience, there are a few key takeaways for how I could have altered my behavior to mitigate some of the conflict.
Campus Life itself advertises that WashU boasts over 450 clubs. Altogether, organizations hold hundreds of thousands of dollars in their coffers, schedule far-reaching group travel plans, and have grand ambitions for their hundreds of members. And with great power comes great responsibility, or so they say. You can do such cool and wonderful things as part of a college club, but part of that is also following rules and boundaries to keep everyone safe and in line with the same standards.
When I first heard about my own club’s tryout guidelines, I was annoyed at having to introduce outside bureaucracy into what seemed like a simple process. But afterwards, I learned that the policy change had been the result of an overzealous parent’s complaint about another club’s tryouts and that the policy had been implemented to protect individual students from liability. I didn’t have to like the policy, but gaining an understanding for why it existed made the rule less of an imposition.
The scale of WashU’s clubs also makes it inevitable that some communication between students and administrators will get lost or muddled along the way. Imagine going about your day as an advisor for dozens of clubs, only to suddenly receive an email from a student you’ve never had contact with, announcing grand plans to host a massive event in a week. They’re obviously excited and have seemingly already planned the whole thing out, but this is the first you’re hearing of it, and you spot some glaring issues. A little disorienting, right?
That’s not to say that you, dear Club Crier, are exhibiting any of this last-minute behavior. But it’s the kind of scenario that you might imagine occurs at least occasionally between the dozens of clubs vying for attention in your advisor’s inbox. Since advisors take on a role of adult supervision distinct from your club, it’s easy to treat communicating with them as an afterthought, rather than as a priority.
To improve any relationship, you need to establish a common ground first. Set up a time to speak with your campus advisor. Let them get to know you and the other club leadership, and tell them about your ideas for the year. In turn, ask them about their expectations for communication and planning for different events. Get specific timelines and contacts for who should be involved, and be proactive about meeting those expectations.
Part of not feeling heard stems from communication that doesn’t effectively address what has been said. Know that sometimes a “no” to your first draft is not always an outright condemnation of your ideas. Ask for specific feedback: what part of your plan is objectionable, and why? Is that something that you can change or iterate on? Provide suggestions for alternatives, and do your best to continue to move forward.
Of course, if your advisor is seriously abusing their power — belittling your ideas, making unreasonable demands, or otherwise just being unhelpful by being unresponsive to your emails or providing you with incorrect information — don’t be afraid to speak up. Going behind someone’s back isn’t advised, but you could request a switch to another advisor, if one is available, or otherwise raise the issue.
Campus advisors often manage a large swath of clubs — if you’re dealing with issues, it’s more than likely that others may be as well. It’s intimidating to stand up to an adult in power, but by doing so, you’re actively working to solve a problem you deal with — one that may arise in the future for the next few generations of your club. Addressing issues with your advisor now is an important legacy to leave.
Above all, keep in mind the reason that you decided to take on a leadership role for this organization in the first place. Underneath all the power and prestige of being an executive for a WashU club, of course, is the desire to give others the same community of support, connection, and fun that you first received. Campus Life advisors should want the same, and it’s in that common mission that you can find the space to move forward. All the best of luck to you, and thank you for all you do to keep this campus vibrant.
Your “advisors,”
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