What They Don’t Tell You… becoming Dean

As we head into Thanksgiving week, I wanted to capture a few reflections from my first four months in the Dean role. Stepping into this position has been energizing and meaningful, and I wish I had taken this leap sooner. I have spent these early months meeting people across campus, listening to their stories, learning what they hope for, what they are working toward, and what challenges they face, and also taking the time to get to know them as people. At Elon we often talk about having the relationship rich culture, and I can attest that it is genuine and woven into the organization’s DNA.

Inside the library, I have spent a great deal of time getting to know the team both personally and professionally. Out of all these conversations, a path forward has begun to take shape. Not just a strategic plan, but a larger direction that feels both philosophical and practical… and very timely.

Before getting into that, I want to share something more personal. There is an idea from The Body Keeps the Score that our bodies track stress, change, and pressure in ways we do not always recognize. This semester my own body has given me two quiet data points: I have gained ten pounds AND my resting heart rate has steadily climbed.

On the surface, it is easy to dismiss this data. I have led very intense environments as an associate dean at some highly innovative libraries, with tight deadlines, complex projects, and difficult interpersonal dynamics. By comparison, Elon has been open, welcoming, and genuinely warm. The library is very nurturing. And while there is stress, it isn’t like I have not encountered that before.

Yet perhaps the body responds to what a change actually represents. It is not about how packed a calendar is or how long the to do list appears. There is a psychological gravity to this role. It signaled a shift in responsibility, a new level of visibility, and the awareness that people are looking to me for direction. Actually, something beyond direction.

I remember the afternoon I received the dean role offer. There was a sudden gravity, a deep sense of responsibility that went beyond budgets and planning. Perhaps it was the social and psychological dimension of leadership becoming real. It was the realization that people are counting on you to solve their problems and fix things, shape the trajectory, and hold space for an entire organization. Not only the library, but the campus ecosystem that relies on our work. The feeling eased the next day, but it stays in the background.

Even when my day to day feels positive, something still registers. It is not anxiety but something quieter and harder to name, a steady awareness underneath. At times it feels a bit like Dorian Gray, where the outward composure remains steady while the inner cost accumulates in subtle ways. My mind stays focused on meetings, planning, and relationships, but my body seems to be tracking the larger transition taking place: the expense of it all.

This Is More Common Than People Admit

A fellow dean recently told me they went through something similar and eventually ended up on blood pressure medication. My guess is that many senior leaders carry this invisible layer, the steady load underneath our visible work. And don’t get me wrong. There are many joys in the dean role, moments where you see people succeed or watch an idea take shape or resolve a delicate matter. But there are also hidden burdens that come with it too. As an associate dean I realize now that I always had guard rails. Now I am the guard rails. It is not something that is easy to talk about unless you are speaking with someone who has lived it.

The First Semester Reality

My first semester has been active. We have two frozen positions and absorbed a five percent financial reduction. We are preparing for the Elon and Queens University merger: there was a lot of accreditation work and some social dimensions to that news too. I uncovered how much we rely on unwritten practices rather than documented processes: I actually miss Workday? But this adds to the complexity when there is no cohesive underpinnings that stitch things together.

I am learning a lot about enrollment, the demographic realities facing higher education, and the rising cost financials affecting libraries. I went from a flexible schedule at CMU to being on campus five days a week at Elon, plus frequent evening and weekend events. Our lead archivist recently left to become the State Archivist of North Carolina, and two longtime library leaders are planning to retire in 2026.

When you connect these pieces, my rising heart rate starts to make sense. Even when my front brain is task focused, the background part of my mind is seemingly subconsciously tracking the size and scope of all that is happening in a very short period.

I also regret not taking any downtime between jobs. I ended at CMU on a Wednesday. Movers came on Thursday. Friday I cleaned up. Saturday I drove down. And Monday I started working. There was real urgency to get in before the semester began, but I wish I had been able to take even two weeks to transition. Not for a vacation, but to let the shift settle, to decompress, and to arrive with a clearer mind rather than jumping straight from one set of responsibilities into another. Looking back, that missing pause probably added to the background load my body has been carrying. But it was so beneficial to be here in early August… I wish I had ended my time at CMU a bit earlier.

A Moment of Unusual Potential

At the same time, I see incredible potential right now. It seems undeniable that we are in a moment of transition across higher education and within libraries. Given where we are at Elon, I will have the chance to appoint key members of my leadership team, which aligns with this emerging period of change. This creates a natural opportunity to strengthen alignment and support the directions we already value. It is less about sweeping change and more about guiding the library toward where it is wants to grow. My role is to help shape that energy into a clear, steady path forward. I’m realizing that this job isn’t really about change management. It is culture work. It is a thoughtful shift in how we imagine what the library can be over the next decade and how we manifest that in actions and beliefs.

Tracking the Signals

As for my weight gain and heart rate, I will be curious to see how those data points change heading into winter break. Bodyweight is something I can influence. When I track my food, I tend to lose weight. When I stop paying attention, the lbs slowly accumulate. I’m meeting with a campus dietitian in December to reboot some habits and get back on track.

The resting heart rate feels different. It seems less like a behavior and more like a signal, something my body is picking up about this transition that I have not fully processed yet.

I am committing to write a follow up post in April or May. By then we will be finished with strategic planning, adjusting or preparing for retirements and our new structure, and grappling with next year’s budget allocation. It will be interesting to see what the biometric data reflects at that point, whether it levels out, rises, or falls. Either way, it reminds me that the body keeps score, and that leadership is as much internal work as it is external work.

Buddhist Reflection

The other day I had seven hours of nearly back to back meetings. I arrived on campus ready to dive in, but something felt off. My breathing was slightly elevated, which I noticed during a casual morning hallway conversation. It was strange because I was not worried or under pressure that day. Yet my body was telling me something I had not acknowledged.

On my way to the first meeting, I stopped at one of the quiet outdoor meditation spots on campus and did a ten minute silent Tonglen practice. My heart rate dropped to fifty nine. It was a reminder that leadership is not only what happens in meeting rooms or email inboxes. It is also how we manage ourselves.

Slowing down helped me move through the rest of the day with more steadiness, and I could feel the elevated pacing ease. It made me think that alongside things such as change management, financial stewardship, and HR responsibilities, there is another essential part of leadership. It is the contemplative awareness that lets us pause, reset, and respond. It helps us notice when we are off balance and gives us the capacity to recalibrate. I am realizing that restorative practices are not luxuries, but a necessary part of leading well and living well.

To be continued…