In the hour before school begins on a chilly fall morning of 2015, 14 students sit around a table.  Some spin in their chairs, some scroll through pages on the laptops in front of them, but all await the start of another meeting.  The morning sun streams through the windows of the Humanities Center with increasing intensity, and the seat at the corner head of the table continues to remain empty.

As the minute hand passes 30, the scheduled time of the meeting, fifteen sets of eyes belonging to the Student Government Cabinet and one of their faculty advisors, Upper School History and Social Studies teacher Jeanne Barr, glance at the seat, the door, the clock, and the others in the room.  Their second faculty advisor, Dean Edward Amos, has been absent several times since the start of the school year weeks before, and he has been attending meetings with rapidly decreasing frequency.  

Soon after this monday, Amos abandoned his mandatory correspondence with previous SGTV (Student Government Television) editor and current senior Max Moog, and was no longer seen during Friday morning assembly sessions, another duty of a Student Government Faculty Advisor. By the time the school year came to a close, “Where’s Amos?” became a joke shouted out in Student Government forums.

Yet in the Spring of 2016, the position of Student Government Faculty Advisor was written into the Dean of Students’ job description.  Among responsibilities under the head of  “Student Life Oversight and Supervision”–such as coordinating the advisory program, monitoring grade-level meetings and activities, overseeing clubs and affinity groups, and supervising all major student events–the job description states that the Dean will “co-advise Student Government.”

Before one of the two positions of faculty advisor was assigned to the Dean, Upper School faculty members could elect to serve instead of teaching one of their classes. The problem: When History and Social Studies teacher James Nau resigned two years ago, no other teacher was willing to give up a class in order to oversee Student Government.

With a lack of faculty volunteers, an administrator–Amos–offered to take on the role.  When Amos left Parker last year, there were again no volunteers.  Mandating that the Dean serve as Student Government faculty advisor solved the vacancy problem, in addition to positioning the Dean in a role that would make him or her more involved in student life.

Clearly, the intention of this action was well placed, but how wise is it to put in place a policy when, as of now, the only trial has been unsuccessful?  

I have confidence that the current Dean of Student Life, Chris Bielizna, will do an excellent job as Faculty Advisor this year, considering his excitement and his determination to learn how to work with students in this setting.  Already, he has been active in attending cabinet meetings, plenary sessions, and viewing weekly SGTV episodes to grant adult, not administrative, approval.  

But the year has just begun.  If Bielizna, or any future Dean, decides that he does not want to put much effort into Student Government, that would–it would appear–be entirely allowed.  The amount of time and determination he puts towards this commitment is up to his discretion, and we have seen before that it can be minimal even for those who have volunteered to take on this role.  

As long as the role is written into the Dean’s job, the most anyone can do is sit and hope for the best.