Beloit College Mindset List Highlights Generational Differences

...but perhaps not in the manner that it intends.

The Beloit College Mindset List, now in its 15th year of existence, is published annually by Beloit College in Wisconsin. Its aim is to point out generational touchstones and differences between the manner in which "they"--the incoming freshman class--see the world and the manner that "we"--the "adults"--see it.

The problem lies, of course, in defining the "we" and the "they".

The issue with "they" likely seems self-evident to those within our field and many without it, but I cannot let it go unstated. Increasingly, non-traditional (and yes, I know the limitations of that term, but you know what I mean) students are entering college, meaning that we can no longer take for granted that our freshman classes are filled with 18 year olds fresh out of high school. It also assumes that a college career is four years, as it references the incoming freshman class as the class of 2016. Still, I will grant this, though I'd appreciate if they at least mentioned these caveats.

Perhaps my biggest disconnect here, however, is with "we". Let me first lay my biases on the table: I'm 30 years old, a GenX/Millennial cusper (depending on whose definition you use). I was, in fact, the subject of the list published in 1999 about the class of 2003. I am also a mid-level professional currently entering my eighth year working post-masters in higher education. The latter, I would think, should qualify me as part of the "we"; after all, it is those of us currently working in higher ed who need to know who our students are and where they are coming from, and yet some of the touchstones against which they contrast the incoming class' experiences do not resonate with me. While I don't know the ages of Tom McBride and Ron Nief, the minds behind the Mindset list--and as a matter of personal policy refrain from speculating about one's age--I feel comfortable stating that they have at least a few years on me. As such, it is my belief that some of the experiences they reference are written more for their peer group than my own. Here I highlight a few, with the limitation that for expediency's sake, all research [sic] done for this came courtesy of Google and Wikipeda. There's a generational touchstone for you.

I realize I speak simply for myself, and not necessarily for my peer group (though I think much is generalizeable), but It's a Wonderful Life was never the Christmas tradition for me that is assumed in #54. Similarly, while Romper Room (#17) was finally cancelled in 1994, it was never even on my radar. My childhood was populated with Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, Reading Rainbow, and Zubilee Zoo on PBS. Those slightly younger may include Barney and Friends, and I believe those slightly older would include The Electric Company.

I'd be inclined to side more with the incoming class over the shooting of Mr. Burns vs. J.R. (#55). The Simpsons, which I started watching as a short on Tracy Ullman, was perhaps as formative to my childhood as any of the children's programs listed above. As a point of reference, assuming that perennially ten year old Bart and perennially eight year old Lisa were those ages at the show's inception, they would be two and four years older than I, and even they would be too young to recall the assassination attempt on J.R. Ewing in Dallas. Similarly, Star Wars (#28) has always meant little more to me than the films (and I'll note that without a proper upbringing, they are far more familiar with Episodes I, II, and III than IV, V, and VI). After all, while the Strategic Defense Initiative, colloquially (and derisively) dubbed Star Wars was renamed and repurposed during the Clinton Adminsitration, the hubbub that gave it its new name took place while I was in elementary school. Finally, just a few things that, in my opinion, are simply not accurate: Despite the ubiquity of mp3s and iPods (#15) most have listened to and still listen to the radio in some fashion. And unless a boarding pass is demonstrably different than an airline "ticket" (and if it is, this shows another disconnect) today's students know them as well.

I point these things out not simply to make it all about me (told you, Millennial...) but instead to point out that as we look as the differences between the incoming students and those who will be teaching them, it's important to note that there is a generational disconnect within the educators as well.

Yeah, I just met you... and this is crazy...

--or-- Riding in Cars with Candidates

I'm currently chairing a search committee and we're in the midst of on-campus interviews. The higher ed interview process is already a strange beast, but one of the areas where this manifests itself is one-on-one time with the candidate. As the chair, it has been my role to get candidates from the hotel to campus the morning of the interview.

Clearly I'm using my personal vehicle. This is no problem. I make it a point to keep it a little cleaner than I might otherwise (whoops, forgot about the clothes headed to Goodwill in the back) and be sure there is space for them to place their bags and personal items. But in the 10 or so minutes we're together in the car, what should be on the radio?

Left to my own devices, I almost always have my iPod plugged in. In most cases I'm listening to podcasts--typically either sports or marching/athletic music--but the music present represents quite a range from the serene to the ign'ant. My radio station presets tell a similar tale; The range on my primary setting is, in order: Rap, Urban Adult Contemporary, Top 40, Top 40, Variety, and Country. I've been sticking to the radio for practical reasons, partially selfish; if I'm listening to a podcast, it's because I'm interested in the subject matter and actually want to hear the podcast, not the candidate, talk. In the same vein, I'm not going to ride around silent--it's not realistic and gives you no hiding place should silence become awkward. So I go the radio route. I know that rap and country tend to be the most polarizing, so I keep it quite literally to the middle of the set.

With the first candidate I transported, I went the Urban AC route. They tend to stay on the mellower side, but I forget that Urban AC radio has done to me what Nick at Nite did long ago: I'm old enough that stations that once played music from when my parents were younger now play music from when I was younger. As luck would have it, they were playing Queen Latifah's Unity (who you callin' a...) Fortunately we were engaged in conversation so it wasn't at the forefront, but certainly potentially awkward.

With the most recent candidate, I instead went the pop radio route. I kept the volume a bit lower as well, not that my speakers were going hammer previously. But during a lull in conversation, we realized what was on. You guessed it (or read it on Twitter earlier): Call Me Maybe. We commented briefly on its current ubiquity and moved on from there. Not extremely awkward, but perhaps a bit.

Have you found yourself in the car either with a candidate or as a candidate? Do you remember what was on the radio?