With the fall semester in the rearview mirror, I can honestly say that balancing the roles of college president and college parent was not as easy as I thought it would be. It's not that my daughter and I ran into any major problems, but I did have to be very conscious of separating the personal from the professional. I entered the semester trying to anticipate how I would play the role of father/president in a way that would be supportive of Emma and her interests while maintaining some distance if I was asked to interact with the campus on her behalf. I quickly learned that my tendency was to be more president than father to her, more administrator than dad. Every situation was unique and each taught me something different.
Emma was enrolled in a course called "Environmental Problems and Midwestern Ecosystems," which required a group project—a field experiment. Emma's group did a study of the attraction white-tailed deer have for sweetness. The experiment involved placing trays of sweetened corn in two different locations, one of them being the grounds of the president's house, which abound with deer.
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In July 2010, Mark Putnam became president of Central College, in Iowa. His daughter Emma, formerly a student at Northeastern University, in Boston, transferred to Central College as a junior this past fall. What is it like having your daughter attend the college where you are president? What is it like attending the college where your father is president? Here they each provide their perspectives on how the first semester went.
One day I arrived home and Emma asked me to help her carry trays of the corn placed far in our backyard to her car so she could take them to the lab to be analyzed. My initial instinct was to see if I could get someone else to help her, as I was heading on to the next thing on my calendar. Then I realized she was not asking the president; she was asking her dad. On the boots went and I assisted, taking the time to learn about her experiment.
Near the end of the semester I again arrived home late in the afternoon. She was home along with the members of her research group. They were practicing their group presentation of the research project, and Emma asked me to listen, watch, and offer a critique. This was another interesting moment. For Emma, this was just her dad observing and giving some advice. No big deal. For her peers, this was the president suddenly grading their work. Keeping things lighthearted, I managed to offer some tips and encourage them in their assignment.
Through the course of the semester, I quizzed her on Spanish, talked a bit about art history, and was the recipient of several ceramic pieces she crafted. I learned how important it is that I be her dad, even though I can never fully separate myself from my role as president.
At the same time, there were times when I had to exercise some restraint by allowing her to express her frustration with the administrative process and determining that I would not intervene on her behalf. This semester Emma is studying abroad at our program in Granada, Spain. As is the case with any program, there was a process for application and approval. The program was requiring her to submit an official transcript of her previous academic work, and when she told the program office that her transcript was already a part of her student records on campus, she was told that the office was not able to use the transcript on file. She wanted me to step in, but this was an occasion on which I had to be the president more than I had to be her father.
I advised her to request the transcript, but I noted in my mind how we, as administrators, sometimes create barriers, hindrances, and complications in our organizations that should be reconsidered. I have to admit that while I have been careful to avoid special intervention for Emma, her experience has offered me a view of the student experience I would not otherwise have had. In fact, from time to time she will drop a hint that something requires my attention on behalf of her fellow students.
All things considered, this has worked out very well. I think we've both found a way of balancing the expectations and interests of others in our relationship. There are members of the faculty who warmly remind her that they have the "boss's daughter" in class. Occasionally, she will be asked to play the role of "Emma the emissary." Her classmates sometimes refer to her as the "Princess." Those titles remind me that the complications we face in sharing the same college are as challenging for her as they are for me.
For my part, I think her friends have grown comfortable interacting with me in official or formal settings, as well as in the informality of our home, where sweats and a baseball cap are the normal dress code. I also have a sense that people observe our relationship and use it as a point of reference in determining how approachable I am. Although I know Emma understands the role I play and how our lives intersect in complicated ways, I have learned one thing for sure—she is more interested in having a dad than a president.
