Clutching a bottle of Diet Coke in one hand and a leather-bound planner in the other, Todd Olson, vice president for student affairs, hurries into his.office. Glancing back and forth between his watch and his day planner, he doesn’t look as if he’ll stay long.
Though he has already had five meetings today, two more are scheduled for the afternoon. After taking a minute to gather his thoughts he rushes out the door again.
“On average, I’ll have eight, nine or ten meetings a day,” Olson says matter-of-factly. This is just a typical day for a senior Georgetown administrator.
“How was your day? … Oh, good!” he gushes after passing a colleague in the hall. Olson is on his way to another meeting, this time with Building Bridges, a joint faculty and student panel which aims to improve the undergraduate experience.
All attention turns to Olson as he enters the conference room and jokes and shares stories with the panel’s members. But just as Olson is capable of bringing a bit of joviality into a room, he also has a penchant for quickly getting down to business when there’s work to do.
“Folks, let’s get started,” Olson says as he sits down and opens his notebook, pen at the ready.
As the meeting progresses and different members of the panel debate ways to engage students in service and leadership, Olson breaks in to query his colleagues.
“What are the benefits of having students as a teacher or leader?” he asks. “What do we hope for students in these roles?”
Later in the meeting he asks if the university should “Harbin-ize” residence halls. He’s referring to the unique cluster configuration of Harbin Hall as a way to bolster a feeling of community on campus. Community is something Olson cares deeply about.
“I want to see a lot of students getting engaged. I want to make sure every Georgetown student feels like a part of campus,” he says.
Olson often serves as the face of the administration to faculty and students alike. His responsibilities encompass a variety of campus-related issues, including support of students’ academic and personal wellness and intervention in crises affecting the student body. When tragedy strikes, he is usually the man on the frontlines.
Olson is well-prepared for the job. He received a Doctorate in Education from the University of Denver, where he served for 16 years in several student affairs positions before coming to Georgetown in June 2002 as Associate Dean of Student Affairs. He became a vice president in March of 2004.
A prolific reader, Olson has copies of “Essentials of Psychology and Life” and Malcolm Gladwell’s sociology work, “The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference,” among a clutter of other books on his desk, illuminated by sunlight streaming through the corner window of his fifth floor Leavey Center office. Countless other sociology, religion and psychology books line his shelves, along with several framed pictures of his wife and three children.
Olson is by all measures a family man. Hanging adjacent to an official university calendar and telephone directory are two big, green paper turtles made by his children. As he searches for a lost document laying somewhere in the clutter of his desk, he takes a moment to glance at his visitor and rattle off the ages of his daughter and two sons.
“My biggest influence is my family. It shaped a lot of who I am,” Olson says.
As a child he worked on his family’s Minnesota lake resort during the summer, marveling at his family’s cohesiveness and ability to work together.
“I was always interested in communication working effectively, observing what’s going on, and suggesting how to resolve conflicts,” he says.
Olson’s day is winding down but his last event takes him off-campus for a speech at a high school in northern Virginia. Fighting traffic on I-66, he sees a motorist in a broken-down car by the side of the road.
“Oh, I’m sure someone’s called this in already, but just to make sure.” he says as he whips out his new Blackberry mobile phone and dials the Virginia State Police’s non-emergency number.
“Hello . hello, I’d like to report a . hello? Can you hear me? Oh .”
Olson isn’t always good with new technology. He’s struggling with the phone.
At the high school, he speaks to a crowd of anxious parents and their not-so-anxious students about the opportunities and troubles of the transition to college life.
“My job is looking after all the needs of students at Georgetown struggling in a variety of ways,” Olson says to the crowd. “Civility, character issues at every level, respect for diversity and differences – these are the models students should take for being citizens of their community.”
Olson is blunt in explaining to parents and students that alcoholism and illegal drug use are problems on college campuses everywhere, including Georgetown.
“The quantity and frequency of alcohol consumption is inversely related to the quality of your relationships,” Olson says, encouraging students to practice common sense.
“What [college] is, is 225 days. What it is that fills those days is important. . Princess Margaret once said, `I have always had a dread of becoming a passenger in life.’ I sincerely hope that this is not your case, that you become passengers in life,” he concludes.
Olson certainly takes his own advice to heart. He says that he hopes to remain as engaged as possible in the development of a better undergraduate experience for future Hoyas. An expansion of leadership programs, themed community housing and higher numbers of faculty-in-residence are all on his docket.
As the evening finally concludes, it is evident Olson is eager to get home to his family. On the way to drop off a visitor at a etro station, his phone rings again. It’s his wife.
“Do you want me to stop for something at the grocery store?” Olson volunteers. “Okay, sounds good. See you later!”
