When the World Is Changing Fast, College Moves Slow

More from Bruce’s Higher Education files:

In many industries today, change is constant. New tools emerge, new skills are needed, and job roles are redefined.

But in colleges? We form a committee. We write a proposal. We revise it. Then we wait.

And wait.

It can take years to create a new degree program. Not just a course, but an entire program.

Part of the delay is internal, but a big part comes from state-level approvals and accreditation bodies that move slowly. Their standards matter, but their processes were built for a different era.

Meanwhile, the world keeps moving. Cybersecurity threats evolve daily, and new surgical technologies are introduced regularly. Digital media, health care, skilled trades, AI, sustainability—none of these fields stand still.

The industry may have changed direction when a new program is approved, staffed, and launched.

This is not just an education issue. It is a workforce issue. Students end up with outdated skills. Employers struggle to find job-ready applicants. And the public wonders why college still feels out of sync with real life.

The job market is tough right now. Even highly motivated graduates are struggling to land junior roles. Companies want experience, so colleges must provide relevant, current, and adaptable training.

Career-connected learning is more important than ever. Real-world experiences, industry-informed curriculum, and partnerships that help students apply what they learn are no longer optional but essential.

We have done good work. Guided Pathways was created to help students stay on track, complete their programs, and move into meaningful careers. It was a step in the right direction. However, even that model is under pressure when we cannot build and adapt programs quickly enough to meet changing demands.

We need a new model: flexible, modular programs that can evolve with the world. These programs let us pivot based on what is happening in the workforce, our communities, and the global economy.

I will be honest. I do not have a solution. This is going to be hard. Most of us at community colleges run small programs. When you try to offer more options, enrollment gets spread too thin. Some classes fill up, and others may get canceled.

But the bigger issue is this. We are trying to prepare students for a fast-changing world using systems not built for speed (cue the Stray Cats).

If we do not start talking about this seriously, we will continue to send students into a world we did not equip them for.

#HigherEd #CommunityCollege #CareerConnectedLearning #WorkforceDevelopment #EducationReform #GuidedPathways #FutureOfWork

Coddle Less, Challenge More

More from Bruce’s higher education files:

At some point, we forgot that college is supposed to prepare students for life, not protect them from it.

Too often, students are bubble-wrapped around everything. Cheating? It’s barely addressed. Expectations? They’re softened to the point of meaninglessness.

I know I cannot fully understand every student’s challenges. I come to this work with much privilege, life experience, job security, and resources that many of my students may not have. Like many of my colleagues, I do everything I can to support them, listen to them, and create an environment where they can succeed.

But support does not mean lowering the bar or removing every obstacle in the name of comfort.

We are not helping them. We are stunting them. They are in for a rude awakening when they hit the real world (not that school isn’t the real world), whether transferring to a university or starting a new job. No boss is giving them a deadline extension because they were unprepared.

College should absolutely be a learning environment. But learning also includes learning how to meet expectations, deal with consequences, and function like an adult.

We need to be firmer. Kinder, yes, but clearer. Supportive, absolutely, but not indulgent. If we do not raise the bar, we do them a massive disservice.

You cannot bubble-wrap adulthood.

And yes, a few years ago, a post like this would have landed in Human Resources or with my dean. Thankfully, I have tightened the audience and turned off the drama faucet.

Please let me know what your thoughts are.

Code that Travels

In my JavaScript class at Clark College, students learn not just how to build for the web but also how to apply their skills to related technologies like Google Apps Script.

Today, we reworked a web app we built earlier this quarter into a Google Sheets-based tool. The logic is the same, but the platform is different. Students got real experience adapting their code to automate and enhance spreadsheets using Apps Script.

Two years ago, I became familiar with Apps Script when I created an app for teachers teaching CS50 at Harvard University courses that makes it easy to collect, submit50, and style50 scores into a Google Sheet.

It was one of those great teaching days, where students are engaged, asking the right questions, and making the leap from knowing how to code to understanding where and how to use it.

Still banning AI? Cool. I’ll be over here teaching.

I teach web development at a community college, and my students use AI.
In CTEC 121, our intro to programming class, students work with the CS50 Duck Debugger. It’s an AI tutor available 24/7. No appointment is needed, and there are no weird vibes. Just help when they need it. The Duck shows up more reliably than most people do for Student Hours.

In my more advanced classes, AI becomes a pair programmer. It asks questions, challenges ideas, and helps students actually think about their code instead of staring at error messages like they’re written in ancient Greek.

But AI isn’t a replacement for real understanding. Soon, I’ll be bringing back in-person assessments. Nothing fancy. Just me, the student, a computer, and a problem to solve. One-on-one. No hiding behind copied code or clever prompts. Just a chance to show what they really know and get some honest feedback in the moment.

Meanwhile, some professors still ban AI, as if it were a cheat engine. They ignore it, trash it, and pretend students aren’t already using it.
Let’s get real. AI is already part of how modern developers work. Ignoring it doesn’t make you rigorous. It makes you irrelevant.

We can teach students how to use today’s tools or keep grading like 2009.

I’ll be over here building the future with a duck, a slice of pizza, and a cup of Dunkin’ coffee.

The Difference Between Being Welcomed and Being Used

On speaking at conferences and other events:

I’ve spoken at more conferences than I can count, from corporate ballrooms to college lecture halls, from events that ran like symphonies to ones that felt more like garage bands missing a drummer.

Some events treat speakers like respected guests. Others treat them like content cattle, herded in and out without a word.

I just wanted to tell you about the good ones.

There was Lotusphere, back in the day. If you know, you know. Rocky Oliver, Susan Bulloch, and the team made it feel like home. You showed up, and everything worked: travel, tech, timing, etc. You weren’t a slot on the agenda. You were part of a living, breathing community. And you left knowing your work mattered.

Fast-forward to the CS50 Educators Conference at Harvard University, and the magic was still alive. Bernie Longboy? A total rock star. Thoughtful, organized, deeply human. She ensured that sessions ran smoothly and that you felt welcome.

And here’s the kicker: it was my 60th birthday while there. You know what they did? They surprised me by singing Happy Birthday. They gave out cupcakes to all of the attendees. Mine even had a candle. I’ve never forgotten it. Because it wasn’t performative. It was personal. It was real.

Compare that with another event I spoke at in May 2024, a gathering of Washington State 911 leaders. The audience? Fantastic. Truly engaged and gracious. But the person who booked me? Not a word before, not a thank-you after, no acknowledgment. I gave a personal talk, shared vulnerable stories, and left the room without a nod. It didn’t just feel awkward. It felt like I didn’t exist.

Thank goodness for Municon 2025, which I spoke at last week. They knew how to do it right. Communication was clear. Support was solid. And they treated me with genuine warmth and respect. It doesn’t take a parade. Just a little consideration.

Because here’s the truth: speaking takes effort. You step away from your day job, your students, and your family. You rehearse. You prepare. You give a piece of yourself.

We only ask to be treated like humans, not placeholders or PowerPoint operators. Say hello, thank you, and offer a pizza or a rubber duck if you’re feeling extra generous. 🤣

Because we’re not here to be grilled. We’re here to bring the fire.

Tenure Made Me a Worse Professor (But I’m Taking It Back)

Today, May 24, marks my second anniversary of tenure. And I’ve got a confession. Tenure made me a worse professor.

Not worse in the “I don’t care anymore” sense. I still show up. I still teach my heart out. I still hand out pizza and rubber ducks, as if they were course materials. But something shifted during that long, grueling tenure process and hasn’t entirely returned.

The tenure process trains you to be careful. You learn to document everything, justify everything, and reflect on everything until your teaching feels more like a performance than a practice. You stop experimenting because experiments might not look great on paper. You stop taking risks because risks don’t always make for clean committee reports.

And if you’re not careful, you start teaching like someone is always watching. Because for a while, someone is.

That’s what happened to me. I slowly backed away from the version of myself who took bold swings and tried weird ideas. I started playing it safe, saying no to chaos and yes to control. I polished everything, trimmed the messy parts, and stopped leaning into the stuff that made my teaching mine.

But here’s the thing. I’m two years in now. I’ve got the stability. The security. The keys to the castle.

And I’m done playing small.

I want the pre-tenure Bruce back, who did things that made students laugh, think, and engage. The one who brought music into lessons. The one who asked, “What if?” instead of “Will this fit in my tenure binder?” The one who knew learning is supposed to be messy, unpredictable, and sometimes a little loud.

If tenure turned down your volume, I hear you. If it made you cautious, you’re not alone. But now that we’re here, we can choose how we show up again.

I’m choosing to take it back, one student, one duck, one slightly chaotic lesson at a time.

Let’s go.

Student Support Takes Time (And No, There’s Still No Pizza)

You wouldn’t walk into a restaurant 2 minutes before closing and expect a full-course meal, right?

So, why do some students show up for office hours two minutes before they end and expect a deep-dive code review, academic therapy session, and life coaching?

I get it. Life is busy, and sometimes the timing doesn’t work out. But just like a good meal (or a good slice of pizza), meaningful help takes time to prepare and serve.

If you need help, feel free to come in earlier. I’m literally doing this on the weekends, too. We can troubleshoot, brainstorm, or even debug your existential crisis. Rubber ducks and pizza references are optional. Office hours aren’t just for emergencies. They’re your reservation for success.

However, I want you to know that I will help you regardless of whether it’s late or last-minute. I’ve got your back.

And if my posted student hours don’t work for you, just let me know. We’ll find a time that does.

Accessibility Is for Everyone: Reflections on GAAD

Thursday, May 15, 2025, marks the 14th anniversary of Global Accessibility Awareness Day (GAAD).

This day is all about sparking conversations, encouraging reflection, and promoting learning around digital inclusion and access for people with disabilities.

Thank you to those who design and build physical and digital things that make the world more accessible for everyone.

At Clark College, accessibility isn’t just an add-on; it’s woven into the foundation of every course in our Web Development program.

#GAAD #GlobalAccessibilityAwarenessDay #A11y

Turning It In Isn’t the Starting Line

We must discuss whether you’re waiting until the assignment due date to care about your work.

Learning to prioritize is part of school and an essential learned skill. I want all my students to understand this: the due date isn’t the day to start working on your assignment. It’s the day you finish it. By the time you hit submit, you should have already asked questions, gotten help, made revisions, and made an effort to complete the assignment.

Students often turn in an assignment and then ask for feedback. This will not make a good impression in an employee/employer relationship. Don’t hand your boss, customer/client, or anyone else relying on you a half-baked project; expect them to be happy with it.

School is your opportunity to learn real-world solutions. It is where you learn to manage your time, advocate for yourself, and build standards of expectation. It is your chance to learn good management practices before facing the expectations and consequences of employment.

My advice is to treat your assignments like they matter before you submit them. Ask questions early, get help, and don’t wait until the last minute to care.

Respect Where It’s Due: Care Workers, This One’s for You

Let’s give it up for the care workers in facilities everywhere. The real MVPs hold it all together while the rest complain about bad Wi-Fi.

You show up. You stay late. You deal with things most people couldn’t handle for five minutes. And you do it with heart, humor, and patience that deserves a medal.

CNAs, nurses, therapists, custodians, and kitchen crews make it all run. You see people at their most vulnerable and still show up with respect and humanity.

So yeah, thank you for your quiet dignity, hustle, and grace. We see you, and honestly, we’d fall apart without you.