On the Road (or Up in the Air)

The writer is a current president

For presidents, a single work trip may include a donor lunch, a college fair, and a basketball game all on the same day. Frequent costume changes are a feature of the job I did not anticipate.

To be sure, presidential travel can be fun, exciting, and sometimes memorable—I’ve met celebrities who reduce me to fan-girl silence and partaken in ceremonies where I’m moved to tears. So many “pinch me” moments. Often, my spouse can tag along, providing much appreciated (and sometimes needed) support and allowing us to create shared memories. Travel can be a presidential perk.

There are, of course, downsides. The physical rigor can be grueling. Changing time zones wreaks bodily havoc. I always carry over-the counter sleeping pills from Costco because it’s hard to settle into sleep in a new hotel room every few nights. I used to wear college branded sweat suits on planes for comfort (and brand recognition) until my luggage went AWOL before an important event. 

Packing for multiple climates and types of events means that during my presidency, I’ve had to do wardrobe upgrades. Suits, dresses, and accessories that incorporate the school colors are my staples. I get a lot of stuff from ThreadUp, an upcycling app. One whole closet in my house is now devoted to official college event gear.

While most people know that on your own campus, presidents have no friends, I’ve managed to forge good relationships with a number of my peers and we share war stories, funny memes, and encouraging texts. They’ve given me tips like, “when you receive a nasty email, pretend that—like the junk mail you get at home—it’s addressed ‘Dear Occupant.’ ” When work travel puts me in a city where one of these peers serves a local institution, I try to sneak in a visit with them for my own emotional well-being.

For an extrovert, which many of us leaders are, loneliness on the road is an even bigger reality. I love meeting new people, but traveling without a companion can make me feel untethered. Often, I wake in a strange hotel room and ask myself, “where am I today?” Then I text a friend back home a picture of a great meal or a piece of graffiti I observe on the sidewalk and feel a little more connected.

Then there’s the eating. Constant eating. Some days on the road I’ve been scheduled to meet with five different donors and then speak at an evening cocktail party. That might mean two breakfasts, a lunch, a high tea, a reception with hors d'oeuvres, and a formal dinner. Pair all this eating with no time for exercise and on come the pounds.  

It also seems like a natural law that scandals inevitably break out on campus precisely when you are in the most remote and unreachable locales. I’ve taken many a Zoom call in my pajamas to consult with the leadership team while I’m 12 time zones away. My team knows that I would rather wake in the middle of the night to help work through a problem than find out the next day by seeing our institution on the front page of the newspaper. 

Finally, it can be challenging to strike a balance between being present and consistently available on campus, while also maintaining enough visibility in the broader community and wider world, especially during a fund-raising campaign. It takes years of deep cultivation in person to earn the right to ask for a major gift, so we hit the road. Again and again and again.

As someone who grew up in a low-resource family, traveling still feels like a privilege. And I will confess that—given all the abuse we sometimes take in these roles—it’s nice to occasionally be treated like a VIP. The opportunity to experience new (to me) places, meet people from different walks of life, and extend the hand of friendship is a tremendous honor.