I hesitate to say anything just yet because nothing is set in stone, but I’m so excited about the prospect, I can barely stand it. One of my scholarly heroes – an academician and all-around fantastic person who I fondly consider both a mentor and friend – might co-author a paper with me.

We will talk about it in more detail in the next couple of weeks (after finals!) and begin to hone in on a topic of mutual interest. What is so fantastic about this project – besides the chance to work alongside one of my favorite people – is that it tremendously boosts the clout, so to speak, for my work. The odds of getting published in an academic journal as a grad student writing solo are less than if you were to collaborate with a faculty member. (Ok, so I don’t have the stats handy, but I’m pretty sure the odds are slim. Someone should do a study on that, LOL!)

I shared some preliminary thoughts earlier this semester about my dissertation, and that general topic still interests me very much, but if we’re able to publish something in this new endeavor, then it may very well sway my dissertation plans. That’s all good, though … it’s still plenty early to mull things over and explore various topics.

The one thing two things that I want to keep in mind, regardless of the topic I choose, come from a critical comment that I read not too long ago about Public Administration as a concentration within Political Science, in general:

1) The field is under-researched.

2) Research must add knowledge to the discipline, not just rehash previous work.

I aim to accomplish both goals. Presenting at the conference last week was my first step toward Goal #1, and hopefully this collaborative paper will make strides toward both goals.

Seatbelts on … here we go!

I’m getting ready for my conference debut this morning. I am going to take a few minutes after I’m finished getting ready to sit & review my paper, think through some possible discussion questions, etc.

We received an email from one of the panelists last night who had difficulty with travel arrangements and won’t be able to attend. I feel bad for her, because I know she’s been planning it for a while, just as I have. Consequently, we may have additional time to talk about our individual papers, so I want to be prepared for Q&A.

If you read this before 8am CST, I would greatly appreciate your prayers–for a calm spirit, clarity of mind, and whatever else the Lord lays on your heart to pray for me. Thank you so much!

I remember learning how to spell the word business. If I own a business, then “I” will be busy. Bus-I-ness.I enjoy making up mnemonic devices to remember spelling words, vocabulary, etc. (We’ve already established that I’m a geek, right?)

 

For example, the four classifications in increasing substance for explaining statistical data are: nominal, ordinal, interval and ratio. NOIR … as in, pinot noir. 😉  I’m trying to teach my 4th grader about mnemonic devices, as well (albeit, not related to wine), since he tends to put off studying his spelling words until the last possible moment.

 

Today’s post is less about mnemonic devices than it is about simply being busy. That would be busyness, wouldn’t it? I have committed to writing the weekly prayer prompts & devotionals for church, and although I am thoroughly enjoying this new ministry, it does cut into my writing time that I would otherwise spend on blog posts.

 

Besides that, I’ve just been busy.

 

I need to reconcile the federal deficit by next Saturday, and since I’m going out of town mid-week, I have to start writing very soon or else pin myself into a corner of a few days of break-neck speed writing. That would not be fun, since Ang Under A Deadline is not the most pleasant person to be around. I seldom travel, but I’m going out of town three times this month, so I hesitate to leave the house again in the evenings to go to the library, etc., in order to write, but I may need to. It is difficult to concentrate on sequestration and spending caps when the kids walk all the way across the house, right past Dad, to pepper me with questions that have nothing whatsoever to do with our $15 trillion federal debt.

 

Speaking of going out of town, as soon as I finish my deficit paper, I promise to write a post about last weekend’s adventure (girls’ weekend – i.e., time with friends far away from laundry, dishes or textbooks – woohoo!) and next week’s conference. It is my first academic shindig, and I will be presenting a paper as a panel discussant. I am equally stoked and terrified. My panel is in the first batch of the morning on Thursday, so at least I will have the rest of the conference to recoup my wits.

 

Until I can carve out some more writing time, I hope that you’ll continue to join me in prayer with our daily prompts, and if you wouldn’t mind – I sure would appreciate your prayers during this stressful time in my life, as well. Thanks!

One of my assigned papers this term concerns the federal deficit (i.e., how to reduce it). Among myriad topics that confuse me, I am trying to wrap my head around why the federal government sends humanitarian aid to countries to whom we are already indebted.

 

For example, the U.S. provided $4.9 million in humanitarian and defense aid to China after the earthquake in 2008. Yet, China holds $1,154,700,000,000 in U.S. Treasury securities (i.e., our debt), as of January 2011. Instead of sending cash aid, why didn’t we just buy back $5 million (I rounded up) worth of Treasury notes?

 

Not to make light of the recent earthquake & tsunami in Japan, but the same scenario holds true there. In a report issued yesterday by USAID, the U.S. already has $8 million earmarked for relief aid. That just accounts for humanitarian aid; it doesn’t include the Department of Defense, which already had boots on the ground in Japan and at sea. Japan ranks second only to China as a major foreign holder of treasury securities, with a whopping $885,900,000,000 of U.S. debt in its wallet.

 

If I borrowed $10 from a friend to, say, purchase a CD, then she would [rightly] expect me to pay her back. What if, three days later, a family member of hers died unexpectedly, so I bought $15 worth of groceries to make a condolence meal for her family? That would be very sweet of me, but I still owe her the $10 that I borrowed.

 

Perhaps it sounds heartless to translate that onto an international scale, but given our deplorable national debt situation, we need to forego the “meal” gift and square away the ten bucks, first.

I heard a very informative presentation this morning by Jason Sabo on the likely impact of state budget cuts on our local community and the nonprofit sector, at large. (On a side note, I think I would love his job — he takes a complex, fear-ridden topic like the state budget and breaks it down into easily understandable chunks.) After his talk, I had several ideas and questions floating around my head, so I did some cursory research and crunched a few numbers.

 

I remembered that the Texas Lottery is supposed to support education, but I wasn’t sure how or to what extent. I discovered that in 2010, the Texas Lottery Commission contributed approximately $1 billion to the Foundation School Fund, which just so happens to be one of the big-ticket items that Mr. Sabo mentioned is on the state’s chopping block. That $1 billion represents 27% of lottery revenues, after 62% went to prizes paid and some smaller percentages to retail commissions and administration. (I was pleasantly surprised to see that administration (read: overhead) was only 5%. I don’t see any way to increase the percentage devoted to education except to decrease the percentage of prizes paid (by making the lottery even more statistically unattainable), which would be counter-productive because of the public backlash that would ensue.

 

I also discovered that the Foundation School Program has an endowed fund called the Permanent School Fund. As a development professional, this piqued my interest, so I investigated further. The Texas Education Agency (TEA) reported that the fund grew to $25 billion (market value) in 2010. That’s $25,000,000,000 in nice, round numbers.

 

What struck me as particularly interesting was the amount that the fund is releasing. Bear with me in the weeds here for a bit …

 

Most endowed funds with which I am familiar (private foundation funds, endowed university funds, etc.) typically allocate approximately 5% annually. The percentage is often based on a rolling calculation over a few years’ period of time to compensate for spikes and dips in the market, but 5% is a good benchmark for comparison purposes. For example, if you establish an endowed scholarship with a gift of $100,000, you can reasonably expect that your gift will generate somewhere in the ballpark of $5,000/year. The beauty of an endowed fund, of course, is that it lasts into perpetuity–only the earnings are spent, not the principal (“corpus”).

 

So, back to the Permanent School Fund. The fund plans to release $1.9 billion during the 2012-2013 biennium, which is a two-year period. According to my calculations, that represents only 3.8% of the fund value. A 5% disbursement would be closer to $1.25 billion each year, or, say, $2.5 billion in the biennium. That’s a difference of $600 million.

 

In the grand scheme of a $16 BILLION state budget shortfall still remaining (after the Rainy Day Fund is tapped, payments deferred to the next fiscal year, etc.), $600 million may not seem like much, but it’s a step. If we can find ways to cull a few hundred million from elsewhere in the budget, then it does add up.

 

I will leave you with one of my favorite quotes from Mr. Sabo’s presentation: “Good politics always trumps good policy.” I’ve got to find a way to work that into one of my fiscal administration papers. 😉

I’m so giddy right now, it’s borderline ridiculous. I found out earlier this spring that a paper I submitted to a conference was accepted, and today I uploaded the paper to the official research site!

 

I’m excited but nervous about speaking at the conference and having my writing “out there” for the world to see … and critique. Rejection may be an irrational fear, but it’s a fear, nonetheless. I don’t mind if someone disagrees with me, but I don’t relish the idea of being ripped to shreds (academically speaking). On the other hand, if I don’t take the risk, then I will never hear the accolades, either.

 

After I submitted the paper, I promptly searched for myself under Authors. Yes, I am a dork. 8)

Sometimes, we work ourselves into a corner and unwittingly take on an identity that we can’t shake off — like a chick from an incubator trying to acclimate into a free-range coop. Familiarity breeds contempt. The all-natural, 100% organic chicks might look down their beaks at an outsider who came from a *gasp!* laboratory.

 

I read an article recently (and tried to find it to link here but could not relocate it – sorry!) that explained one of the key differences between European and American higher education career paths: developing scholars from a school’s own graduate pool vs. hiring externally.

 

In Europe, colleges and universities often hire from within; they encourage students to attend the same school for their bachelor’s, master’s and doctoral programs, then they move into faculty positions at the same institution. In the U.S., graduates are less likely to find faculty positions in their home universities. Obtaining a master’s degree and doctorate at the same U.S. institution can be seen as a negative, because a student hasn’t been exposed to teaching from other faculty with varied research interests.

 

Another frustration is that administrators often rise through the faculty ranks, rather than the staff. Herein lies the dilemma: a staff member who has worked at a university while simultaneously pursuing a doctorate may have a difficult time transitioning to the faculty side of the house. Why?

 

“Oh, you know Angela – she’s that grantwriter.”

“Ah, yes – she used to be chair of the Staff Council, right?”

“Yeah. I heard she worked full-time and studied for her doctorate part-time.”

“And, did you hear that she has FIVE children?!”

“Whoa. Doesn’t she know that having more than two is a death knell for an academic career?”

“Wow – it couldn’t have been a very rigorous program if she was able to juggle all of that at the same time!”

“Oh, it was just a DPA, not a Ph.D.”

“Ohhh, that explains it.”

 

It’s hard not to feel discouraged. Never mind the fact that the National Science Foundation and U.S. Department of Education both consider the DPA to be on par, academically, with the Ph.D. I knew when I started the program that there are still some academics who believe that anything other than the Ph.D. is substandard. I simply can’t quit my day job and go to school full-time, at this stage in my life. The DPA is geared toward students like me.

 

Does this mean that I can never become a faculty member? No. Does it mean that I cannot become an administrator? (Well, technically, I’m an administrator now, but I’m referring to upper-level executive positions.) Again, no. What it does mean is that I need to document my academic credentials by actively seeking out research & publishing opportunities and begin to focus my long-range interests.

 

That is the difficult part for me — honing in on my interests. I am curious by nature and have numerous areas of interest. If only there existed an interdisciplinary part-teaching/part-administration position that incorporated public policy, administration, digital media and philanthropy. Now that would rock. Sometimes I wish that God would write on the wall for me or leave a note under my pillow like the tooth fairy and just tell me what to do.

I don’t know how I fell behind on my required reading … ah, yes – now I remember! I put aside Understanding Research Methods for a weekend and read Shadowfever, instead. Shadowfever is the fifth and final installment in a saucy, spellbinding tale of the epic battle between good and evil. It’s a cross between paranormal romance (and we’re not talking Twilight-chaste; there are some – ahem – heated scenes) and suspense. Personally, I think the author used too much gratuitous swearing, but the storyline was gripping … unlike Understanding Research Methods, which I have to force myself to read. (It isn’t really fair to compare a textbook to a novel, I suppose.)

 

Under the looming deadline of my midterm exam next week, I finally caught up on my required reading. There are no evil fae trying to take over the world in my statistics manual, but I do feel like I’ve been victorious in a small conquest. I have a better understanding of paradigms (not to be confused with paranormal), independent & dependent variables and correlation coefficients.

 

I still need to practice calculating some formulas (prof said there will be word problems along with short answer essay questions) and review the chapter summaries, but I am not as nervous about the test as I was a few days ago.

 

Perhaps I’ll reward my labors with another novel after the test! Next on my list is Android Karenina, a mash-up of Tolstoy’s classic with a steampunk twist. I made it through the first few chapters during the Christmas break, so I’m looking forward to finishing it.