ADVENTURES IN ACADEMIA: 

An External View of Professional Practice As A Casual Academic

By Mickey Skidmore, AMHSW, ACSW, FAASW

As I recently completed my first term with a new University I find my thoughts were largely focused this past month on academic aspects of my professional practice. Establishing relationships with new colleagues is exciting; while continuing with well established networks is reassuring. And re-engaging in roles or tasks that I previously provided during the COVID era was also welcoming.

For background purposes, I am not, nor have I ever portrayed myself as a proper or formal academic. While I am familiar with the broad contours of research and its role in Social Work practice, it is not something I would classify as a professional strength. I would say I know enough about research to read a professional journal, and be able to take away the key points of the article. I also recognise the value of integrating research, theory and practice as fundamental pillars of the Social Work profession.

Social Work has long been recognised and seen primarily as a practice driven profession. What I bring to the teaching experience is 40 years of clinical experience; practicing Social Work in two countries and being recognised as an AASW Fellow where I offer real life stories and anecdotes of professional practice that hopefully is more relatable to students beyond the didactic theoretical content they receive in the classroom. This is especially poignant and I believe effective for skills-based units in Social Work programs.

Having served as a casual academic for three Social Work programs, I have been exposed to viewpoints that seem to be challenges for many if not all Social Work programs in NSW. The primary scuttlebutt that I hear is that despite SW programs imploring their University to cap the admission numbers of students (due to not having the capacity to adequately manage more), they are experiencing and accepting a rash of new SW student admissions. The most logical explanation would seem to be the desire to acquire the international student fees is simply to great to turn down.

Of course this feeds into the next issue, that many SW programs are accepting more students into their programs despite not having an adequate corresponding field placement arrangements to match these numbers. (Some) students report having been guaranteed placements only to discover that this may not come to pass. Others lament having to take on the task/responsibility to secure their own placements, or express considerable dissatisfaction with the process by which their placements are arranged or allocated. With limited placement options available, many students express disappointed that their placements are not related to any of their preferences.

Recently, it appears there may be growing momentum from international students in particular, around the argument that field placements translate to 1000 hours of unpaid work, which many question as unfair or unreasonable. Furthermore, they relate the negative impact this often has on their mental wellbeing; their family; and may endanger their current employment; often with few guarantees that potential job interviews will recognise any of this as acceptable experience for the future roles they seek. The structural framework for field placements has long been established. My own experience more than 40 years ago in the United States parallels this model. However, I think the time to review this practice and engage in serious conversations of how this might be done differently is probably overdue.

Beyond these broader institutional concerns, I personally struggle with dynamics of students on the micro-level. I have observed some characteristics of students that I find challenging. 

In general, I find that most international student’s experiences and expectations around tertiary education is largely didactic — where the teacher (expert) provides course content, and the student memorises and spits back the key concepts via assignments or examinations to demonstrate their grasp and competency with the course material. Thus, skills based or experiential learning is an unusual experience, and the concept of reflection, in particular of such learning is often not a typical or natural concept that is on their radar. Beyond thakt, they struggle and seem poorly prepared or ill-equiped with Social Work programs that culminate their overarching program aims towards encouraging students to develop their own sense of critical thinking. As so many of them have been indoctrinated in approaches where the teacher essentially tell the students what to do, the prospect of discovering their own sense of style; organisation; and therapeutic use of self is for many an overwhelming prospect. In short, I am averse to telling you what to think; yet rather strive to provide a framework to guide you about how to think. 

Whether it is attributable to English not being their first language; or there is a deep seeded indoctrination of students wanting to be told what to do; or simply because students of this era exhibit inadequate listening skills; the structure of many of my conversations with students too often reflect the following pattern:

“If your project is green, blue or yellow then you are on track and your project is approved.”

“So, my project is green, is that okay?”

“We will return from our 10 minute break and start at 3:15.”

“So, how long is the break? When do we return?”

If these were one-off conversations that would be one thing. The fact that this is more of a pervasive pattern — seemingly underscored with considerable fear (lacking confidence in their own abilities) — is disconcerting. In fact, I would estimate that close to half of all inquiries students pose to me is about content or material that was thoroughly reviewed in class, or outlined clearly in the course outline or learning guide. I’m not sure if other educators experience this, or how they interpret this if they do. However, I find this most puzzling.

Since emerging from the COVID era, I find far too many students who for lack of a better way to describe it seem poorly motivated overall. They sign up for classes, then complain that for various reasons it is not convenient for them to attend their classes. They take acceptation to the notion that there are attendance requirements to some of their courses. They feign or make flimsy excuses about their non-attendance and then express outrage or distain when they are not accepted reasons for their absence. Punctuality is often completely disregarded, presenting for class thirty minutes or even an hour late. Many exhibit a “phone-it-in” attitude where they feel that they really do not need to attend their classes. For a profession who’s first word in its title is “Social”, I find this most peculiar that Social Work students would clammer to be on par with Psychologists or other medical professionals, yet exhibit such an unflattering sense of entitlement as students during their Social Work education.

Too often I find international students have been entranced (duped) with a fairy-tale like story that an MSWQ degree is a simple, quick, two-year program and an easy path to permanent residency in Australia. And when they are confronted with the vigorous demands involved in such an effort; along with the financial challenges they are stunned that such an endeavour might adversely impact the mental wellbeing. (In my own experience, I had come to the conclusion that I needed to devote all my energies completely to completing my MSW. If I could not realistically commit to that, my success at such an endeavour was unlikely). 

Student are often caught off guard by the difficulties they face with their job search efforts as well. Having taught in both in both undergraduate and MSWQ programs, my own observations are that the undergraduates are better prepared overall than the MSWQ students. It is a tricky and challenging undertaking for there to be some version of a comparable quality among the two programs upon completion. To date, I’m not convinced this has been achieved yet.

As I reflect on these observations, I am mindful of not wanting to embrace an adversarial or contentious relationship with my students. I genuinely want all my students to do well. The basic expectations I hold for students include: punctuality; attendance; general respect; active listening; and following basic instructions. Even though I come from a different generation, I do not feel these expectations are onerous or overly demanding. And considering how many of my students seem desperate to be told what to do, one would think that following instructions would align well with their expectations too. 

As most of my students are preparing for a career in Social Work practice, there are some difficult responsibilities that are part of my role. Beyond providing constructive feedback regarding the quality an content of their assignments, I also feel that feedback around these broader observations — letting them know that many of these attitudes and behaviours are not okay and do not serve them well in their preparation for Social Work practice. And in some cases, it is a poor reflection on them as individual professionals. Striking a healthy, reasonable and respectful balance with these complexities is the challenge that I find myself working on these days.

Some have suggested that the influence of neo-liberal capitalism is the primary “boogie-man” that accounts for the negative impact on Universities. (Even a quick Google search on the subject highlight the decline in several outcomes in this regard). I have even heard suggestions from colleagues that given the nature of international student fees that it was inevitable that corruption became “baked” into the system. So is it surprising that holding students accountable for these basic expectations might be frowned upon in some University programs? 

In my years of teaching, I have come to recognise that in the context of genuine, fair-minded evaluation, that marks or grades for most assignments will generally come close to settling in a bell-curve outcome pattern. At some level, I think even students understand and accept this. However, what if there were pressure from the University to limit — or even prohibit the number of Distinction or High Distinction marks, even if that means ignoring the genuine merits of the student efforts — in order to force or ensure a bell curve outcome? Can you imagine the outrage of international students in particular (who pay premium tuition fees) if this dirty little academic secret were to be confirmed and then discovered?

These broader (macro-level), dynamics are dynamics I hope to avoid for the time being, focusing instead on how to strike a more reasonable balance in my exchange with students. After all, as I approach the twilight of my career, one of my primary objectives for the aspect of my practice is to hopefully inspire and hand the torch over to the next generation of Social Work practitioners. 

The recent announcement of the Government’s intentions to cap international student numbers beginning next year will no doubt only serve to make things even more interesting.