Books like Successful Fund Raising for Higher Education — picked by fans

When I received tenure in 1990, I bought this book for myself as a gift.

I thought that now that my university, at the time Ohio State, had agreed to invest in me, I should think more seriously about the idea of a university. I enjoyed it tremendously. It is lively, colorful, and witty. Written by the former dean of arts and sciences at Harvard, the book offers a wide-ranging overview of the American university.

Even if some of the statistics are dated, this book remains one of the most appealing introductions to, and overviews of, the American research university.

When I became a chairperson at Ohio State the year after I received tenure, I found this book on my desk, a gift from the provost, presumably sent to all new chairpersons.

The book had a good bit of practical advice on a wide range of subjects, and I have held on to my copy, even though I have long since moved on to other positions. The chapter on “Faculty Evaluation” was particularly helpful to me when for the first time I had to evaluate colleagues and recommend salary adjustments.

When I became a dean, I bought a few books on being a dean, and for some time, even after my term ended, continued to follow the literature.

Most such advice is commonsensical, but one needs to be reminded of common sense. The Academic Deanship offers a thoughtful and often wise account of the broader responsibilities and daily work of deans. Chairpersons, who work closely with deans, might also benefit from its perspectives.

When I became a dean in 1997, much of my serious reading moved from my discipline to higher education.

It made sense to me that the differences between chairperson, dean, provost, and president had more to do with demands on one’s time than the kind of work one needs to do, and indeed, I learned much from this book, which makes the case for strong and charismatic leadership.

While it is among the most compelling books on presidential leadership and its possible impact on a campus, much of the advice is transferable to persons in less senior positions.

In Daniel Karpowitz’s book, he takes readers behind the scenes in college-in-prison classrooms to explore what a liberal arts education can offer people who are incarcerated, and the educators who facilitate them. Karpowitz was a mentor and a guide as I was building my own college-in-prison program. His steadfast belief in the human capacity for transformative learning shines through in these accessible, riveting pages of what it means to read the canon from a position of marginalization.

Gordon looks at the second generation of women to attend college, 1890-1920, with a spotlight on two large universities (University of California, Berkeley and the University of Chicago), one elite women’s college (Vassar) and two smaller southern colleges for women, Agnes Scott, near Atlanta, and Sophie Newcomb, affiliated with Tulane. The book’s comparative focus enables the reader to assess different types of institutions and to contrast women’s experiences in several academic settings, each with its own history and complexities.

Recent concern with intersectionality (instances where categories of race and gender overlap) makes research into Black women’s colleges vital. Founded in 1881 as a Baptist female seminary in Atlanta, Georgia, Spelman College became a leading women’s liberal arts college. The book tracks the impact of four college presidents from the outset to the 1950s. The authors show how the formal academic curriculum, extra-curriculum (college-sponsored activities), and hidden curriculum (informal and even inadvertent influences) instilled an imperative to excel.

The editors and contributing authors present research and theory interspersed with unique personal experiences of the journey taken by first-generation students as they move through college. The volume provides the reader with up-to-date data on two- and four-year colleges, and discusses the intersection of first-generation status with varied student identities including LGBT, low-income, African-American, Latinx, Native American, and undocumented. The last section of the book offers an introduction to practices, policies, and programs across the U.S., and directs educators, policymakers, and administrators to make campuses inclusive for diverse first-generation college students. At the Intersection is a resource for understanding and effectively responding to first-generation students’ divergent, shared, and intersectional identities in order to understand and alter their access, retention, learning, and well-being on the college campus.

High school graduates with disabilities are often unaware of today’s new and rapidly developing options and limitations to postsecondary educational resources. This comprehensive guidebook provides excellent strategies for students who will be requesting disability access in preparation for the transition from high school into two and four-year colleges. Navigating the Transition from High School to College for Students with Disabilities includes an array of this information for both college-bound students and disability support staff. These include user-friendly campus resources, lessons for understanding and requesting access to campus accommodations, support for applying for financial aid, and strategies for meeting professional expectations.

As a double UVA grad, I knew that Jefferson was the founder and that the school had been built largely by enslaved laborers. This book uplifted and depressed me: I was uplifted by the ferocity with which Jefferson pursued the importance of a secular university (owned by the state and without religious affiliation) and the revolutionary flexibility of its curriculum.

I was depressed by how much of the structure and the University’s early life were completely intertwined with slavery. Some of the stories are shocking.