It doesn’t require a deep dive into current Vermont economic data to see why VSU’s administration has made workforce development a key focus of its mission — a human-centered one, despite various academics’ objections.
As the daughter of immigrants, both of whom worked labor-intensive jobs when my siblings and I were young, I was taught the main purpose of a college education was to secure a fulfilling job with good pay. When I couldn’t master fourth-grade math, my father invested in a tutor. Dad’s stern message, beyond convincing me that mastering math was essential for college, was this: Without college, I could become financially dependent on someone else, someone who might be very wrong for me.
Many Vermont families today face similar life realities. Perhaps those academics who consider workforce development a “woefully inadequate” mission should take more than a cursory look at alarming economic data substantiating those realities. Citing lofty mission statements of universities in more affluent geographies, does nothing but underscore the lack of empathy for what many Vermonters are facing.
A February U.S. Census report, for example, indicates Vermont has a shortage of qualified, essential workers in critical fields: health care, law enforcement and education. Swift shutdowns in Vermont during the pandemic impacted women-dominant industries the most, and many women who left their jobs have not returned.
It’s doubtful the health care professionals, accountants, attorneys, journalists, marketers, technology pros and political leaders here would have even been able to launch fulfilling careers, let alone thrive, had they not focused their education on studying for those careers. Aren’t these workers also capable of, as one academic puts it, “realizing their highest potential — a life of scholarship, service and professional contributions to improve the quality of life for all and for future generations?”
As Vermont’s population ages, the shortage of skilled tradespeople increases as well — especially construction workers, electricians, plumbers, roofers and other housing-related professionals. Those workers are essential not only to ensure a thriving economy in the present, but to improve our overall quality of life for the future.
I can’t imagine that business leaders, such as John Casella, Mark Foley, Mary Cohen, Judy Fox, Devon Neary, Brian Kilcullen, Lyle Jepson, Paul Gallo, and, of course, Mayor Mike Doenges, consider preparing job-ready graduates to meet the needs of Vermont’s economy anything resembling a so-called misguided mission.
Regarding aspirations students cite to professors, I’ve encountered few students who don’t claim that their dream goals are to help others, make a difference, and change the world. The business administration students I’ve taught echo those aspirations, but they add, “and, of course, I want to get a great job and make lots of ‘bank’!” The difference is that business students are much more transparent about it.
Anyone who thinks a business degree does not instill intellectual, cultural and human sensitivities, as well as professional and technological expertise, has probably not taken a business course in a long time. They likely are the same individuals who claim that higher-ed itself should not be run like a business.
Perhaps those detractors are more expert in renaissance history than in current affairs, but the truth is much more murky: Until recently, the business administration curricula at many tuition-dependent universities subsidized under-enrolled curricula in other areas of those institutions. Now that under-enrolled courses are being phased out, the academics who teach them are crying foul.
My father died seven years before I earned my MBA in finance and leadership, from New York University. I taught business at NYU for five years and went on to teach at other institutions. In almost every course, I required that students produce some type of career plan. In fact, the only students I’ve ever met who weren’t concerned about such a plan were those with wealthy parents.
The reality is that workforce development is about personal development as well, as it empowers students to accomplish the very goals they recite to their professors: to create and live meaningful lives, to improve the human condition and to realize their highest potential.
Focusing on workforce development teaches students how, and why, it’s important they are always able to support themselves financially. That alone is an intrinsic human-centered vision and mission, one worthy of any reputable university.
Liz DiMarco Weinmann lives in Rutland.
