As an academic, I have always found June a sad month.  Yes: it marks the end of the teaching and examining year and the chance to catch up on research tasks and to deal with overdue administrative paperwork.  It normally heralds a summer holiday at some point within the next three months, and the chance to visit new places and recharge the batteries.

But it also marks the end of a close relationship with another group of students.  During my career I have taught second year classes from time to time, but much more of my undergraduate teaching has been at either first year or third year level.  For many years I taught first year practical classes - both general practicals and those relating to statistical methods and their applications in geography.  I also lectured to the big first year classes (often of over 250 students), introducing audience participation and discussion formats even within groups of that size.   I remember an institutional auditor, in the days when subject reviewers visited classes, attending one of my lectures and expressing a fear of anarchy when I launched one of these discussion sessions inviting students to come up with their own definition of age classes within a population, illustrating the way in which ideas of age banding are subjective and socially constructed..

But it's not easy to get close to a first year class of 250.

Third year groups are a different matter.  Although my third year option class once reached 84 students (and a senior colleague accused me of running a 'Mickey Mouse' course that clearly only attracted students because it was so easy - I inevitably saw things differently), I have generally taught final year groups of between 20 and 35.  Although I have taught such classes in collaboration with colleagues, I have often taught them on my own.  During my career I have also led 29 residential field classes at Easter - 1 in Oxford, 3 in Normandy, 12 in Paris, and 13 in Berlin.  In all these third year classes, of one sort or another, I have endeavoured to get to know my students, to see them as individuals, to try to find out what motivates them, and to encourage them to surprise themselves with what they can do, and what they know at the end of a course that they didn't know at the beginning.

Field class interactions have particular rewards. I am not thinking here about the night when, staying in East Berlin shortly after the wall came down, I was awakened at 4 in the morning (as was the whole neighbourhood) by some our students singing 'Barbie Girl' at full volume in the street.  I am instead thinking of the occasions when, at the end of a day of field observation in strange city a student has said 'Now I feel like a real geographer for the first time': these have been really rewarding moments.

It is the rapport that one builds up with a third year group, and with the individuals within it, that leads to my feeling of sadness at this time of the year.  One has just got to know a group really well - and then it's all over and they graduate and go.  The academic calendar turns another page and we start preparing for another year, and another fresh group to start working with.

I admit I feel this a little less since I stopped taking Easter field classes (my last one was in 2008 when I was already three-and-a-half-years into my PVC role), but it is still there - a regret at time passing. Today I feel it particularly in relation to the group of elected Students' Union officers with whom I work very closely during their year of office - and who then come to the end of their tenure leaving me to start building a new relationship with next year's group.

Last Friday the degree results were declared for my department, and I have already sent congratulatory e-mails to a number in my class (and received warm messages back). And at the end of this week there will be the changeover in the Students Union officers.  Another year is over, and a new one starts.

I will be starting my annual leave towards the end of July, so there will only be four blogging days in that month - 7th, 11th, 21st, and 26th.

Most academics go through the whole of their working lives without ever having to deal with the death of a student.  But in an institution of around 24000 students, although most of them are young adults it is inevitable that there will be occasional deaths - from cancer, car accidents or other causes.  Since I became PVC I have been involved in trying to co-ordinate our response to such events in a way that is most appropriate to the wishes of the families concerned. For parents to witness the death of their offspring is a singularly untimely experience, and I am keen that as a caring institution we should play a constructive role in remembering the loss of one of our community as well as their family.

Parents and partners sometimes think that the most appropriate action on our part would be to allow themto cross the stage at a graduation ceremony to receive some sort of public recognition of the achievements of their loved one. My experience of this is almost entirely negative.  As an example, the last time this happened in my presence the partner of the student (who had been murdered in a random street killing by a schizophrenic who was not taking his medication) was in a state of considerable distress by the time she came onto the stage, nearly broke down in the arms of the presiding officer, and was helped back to her seat where her sobs disturbed those around her. The whole atmosphere of the ceremony had been altered for all those present.  This is not an isolated example.  Because of these examples we have now put a stop to parents or others collecting certificates at general degere ceremonies - both for their own good and for the inteersts of the other 1000 or so people in the hall.

What we now offer bereaved parents and others is a small personal event, generally held in one of the University's nicer rooms such as the Tapestry Room or the Chancellors Room, where what is said and done can be very much more tailored to the wishes of those present than in a big degree ceremony.  The family can bring more people along. Those who have taught the student and who knew him or her well can be present and can talk to the family. We can make the event more or less formal, as the family wishes.  Refreshments can be served if desired.  The feedback we have received after these events has been uniformally extremely positive.  I remember one event for a student who had collapsed and died in May of his final year from an undiagnosed heart condition.  A small event in the Chancellors Room that I felt would last at most 20 minutes turned into an extended celebration of the life of the student, with the father speaking about his son's enthusiasm for his final project work (which he had handed in shortly before collapsing) and with academic and administrative staff from his department sharing reminiscences with the family.  We were there for over an hour, and afterwards received a letter, via a family friend, to say that what we had done had really brought comfort to the grieving parents.

These can inevitably be rather tear-jerking events. Those of us who play a particular role in them have to try to blend professionalism with natural sympathy. But the most emotional occasions are those where we are celebrating, prematurely, the achievements of a student who is terminally ill.  On occasion we allow this to happen via attendance at a degree ceremony if the timing is appropriate. I don't know how many people at one of last year's degree ceremonies noticed that the last student to cross the stage, and to have quite a long conversation with the presiding officer, was actually a second year student with complex cancers who was not expected to be able to complete her full degree programme.

But the most remarkable event I have ever been involved in, and one where the tears flowed amongst almost all of the 50 or so people present, was for a terminally ill medical student.  We held the event in the Tapestry Room and she had invited a large number of old school friends and fellow students.  At her request we gowned up and formed a procession of staff who had taught her.  It had been agreed that in presenting the student with a record of her achievements I would make a short speech - which I found very difficult to do but somehow got through it.  When I had finished the student herself, to my amazement, asked if she could say a few words.  And she then gave us a very polished speech with advice to the medics on how to provide dignity to a young woman, like herself, with terminal cancer, and with thanks to the university for her life here in Sheffield.  It was an astonishing performance.  What her family now have to remember the occasion by is a wonderful album of photographs, taken by the university photographer, including pictures of all those who were present.

I am rather proud of what we do to mark the deaths of students.  We do it quietly, but appropriately.  It's not something that will ever be celebrated in key performance indicators or other metrics, but it is an example of the unviersity community at work.  Readers will have guessed that these reflections have been occasioned by a recent death.

On and off during the day I have been writing some notes on the HEFCE meeting I attended in London yesterday.  Since September 2009 I have been a member of the Strategic Advisory Committee on Taching Quality and the Student Experience, which advises the main Board of the Higher Education Funding Council for England on key issues around students.  I cannot, obviously, go into details here about some of the issues discussed yesterday, since they are subject to further consultation and may yet change in relation to government policy (or may even, just possibly, influence policy itself). 

But the HEFCE meeting has its own intrinsic interest because it is one of the few occasions when the breadth of the higher education landscape really comes home to me.  Most academics exist within a very particular corner of higher eduation.  We have our disciplinary links that stretch across institutions, but in many cases those links are to other universities that are roughly similar to our own.  As a geographer working in a British university my research links over the years have been with colleagues in Oxford, Liverpool, Sussex, Dundee, Glasgow, Queen Mary, UCL and similar places  - almost all of them pre-1992 universities.  Outside the UK my connections have been similar - Paris I, Paris IV, Lisbon, the Humboldt in Berlin, Amsterdam, Utrecht.  A research partnership with a colleague at the Portuguese Open University (Universidade Aberta) has been an exception.  As PVC for Learning and Teaching my connections have been primarily with other Russell Group universities (although having taken on a more recent role as co-chair of the Higher Education Academy's PVC network I have increasing numbers of contacts in other parts of the sector - although almost entirely with universities that are structrued rather like us).

In 2005 I was sent by our then VC to attend my first HEFCE annual conference, and found myself in conversation with someone from an institution I had never heard of.  The wider world of UK higher education started to open up for me.

The HEFCE committee reflects that breadth.  The person I know best on the committee is, perhaps inevitably, a DVC from another Russell Group university.  Other committee members include PVCs DVCs and VCs from a number of post-92 institutions, and colleagues from the 94 group,  But there is also representation from the specialist or 'monotechnic' sector of conservatoires, art schools and similar institutions, as well as a representative of a further education college that delivers higher education programmes.  In addition we have attendees from the National Union of Students, the Higher Education Academy, JISC, and the Quality Assurance Agency.  To look round the room, on the 12th floor of the Centrepoint Building in London where our meetings are held, is to recognise the diversity of higher education and the broad numbers of stakeholder groups involved.

However, without this recognition of breadth there is a danger that individual mission groups and other interests seek to pursue their own agendas to the disadvantage of other parts of the sector.  I think there is a growing recognition that these fragmenting pressures meant that higher education did not speak clearly enough with one voice over recent months in the fees debate.  And there is now a clear danger that we will not provide a broad view on the forthcoming White Paper. As a sector we need to present robust and coherent arguments on the value of the future of all higher level educational activity: we need to celebrate the broad portfolio of opportunities presented to potential students, and to do so without appearing to disparage parts of the sector other than our own.  Leadership in these endeavours needs to come from HEFCE itself, but more especially from Universities UK - but with individual vice-chancellors and the spokesmen for different sectional interests buying into the big general message as well. Otherwise 'divide and rule' could be the fate of UK higher education..  

Earlier this evening I was at an alumni event in the centre of Sheffield. During the course of it one of those present, whose own son is hoping soon to go to university, put to me the view that in the new post-2012 fees regime the current first year for most students will become an expensive waste of time.  Our alumnus argued in favour of accelerated 2 year degrees.

In my view it is true that the frist year at university is not as productive for many students as it should be. To some extent there is a levelling process - those who have arrived with good study skills mark time to some extent while others who have benefited less from their earlier education catch up.  A number of students do 'coast'.  But a lot of others struggle to find their feet and need support in doing so.  I have written before about the need to inject excitement and inspiration into our first year teaching, but it is also the case that some students need to more functional skills of literacy, the construction of an argument, basic numeracy, self-discipline, and self-motivation developed in them.  And that is so even in a university, such as ours, with high entry standards.

Interestingly, a week or two ago, at a meeting of the Careers Advisory Board, some of the employer representatives there said that they often found Sheffield students disappointing - the word 'complacent' was used.  There was mention of the belief that because they have succeeded in getting into a good university, our students expect that a good job will then fall off a tree into their laps. If this is so it may be because the focus up to the age of 18 has been so strongly on achieving a place at a high-ranked institution, with little recognition of what will be needed to succeed there - or beyond.

So, if many students go through their first year coasting intellectually, not being stretched, and not putting in a great deal of effort - existing in a social world rather than an acacdemic one, and believing that ultimately all will be well - how might we change that attitude?

Here are two suggestions - the first instrumental, the second developmental.

Firstly, we could incorporate performance in first year assessments in the final degree classification.  We already show first year results in transcripts, but we could go much further, so that a student who does well in their first year assessments sees that benefit directly in their final summative record of performance.

Secondly, and I think this would have to be alternatively, we could introduce a mini Graduate Award based on first year achievements - possibly with some reward in the form of a reduced fee for the following session.  Such a mini award might validate student involvement in volunteering, learning a language, society activities, community projects, or activities within their own departments.  With strong encouragement (and / or a name and shame routine for those who do not get involved) this might help to show students that they need to start taking control of their own ultimate development right from the start of their first year.

I would be interested in reactions to these two ideas.

I make no apology for writing this a day late - I didn't get to bed until 0130 and have left it to the following morning to produce the day's blog.  A timetable of the day might be the best way to deal with the events.

0845 Pick up from my hotel in Istanbul with three colleagues from the International Faculty, to head off to do a launch for a new Sheffield EMBA programme. We are driven across the bridge from the European to the Asian side of the city.

0915 Arrive at Sehir University.  Sehir is a new institution, founded only in 2008 and taking its first students in 2010.  It is a public university but supported by a strong private foundation. It already has impressive premises and, as I find out later from talking to the President of the Foundation, a very strong set of educational and wider principles.  We have already 'inspected' it to assure ourselves that it will be an effective partner for Sheffield and found it so.  Reputation is measured in Turkey by the admissions grades of the lowest-ranked students to be admitted from the national entrance exam: and Sehir already lies in 3rd place among the 20 or so universities in Istanbul.  The Executive MBA programme, will have its core teaching delivered by colleagues from our International Faculty in Thessaloniki, but a number of Sheffuield staff will also be involved.  It is Professor Mehmet Demibag from the Management School who has brokered the arrangement.  But although we are here for a Managament programme, I discover in conversation with Sehir colleageus that there are real opportunities for links in Industrial Engineering and in International and Commercial Law.  I shall follow these possibilities up on my return to Sheffield.

1000 We do the launch event.  There are television teams from three Turkish channels present and afterwards I do an interview to camera for one of them.  (Yesterday I did a 20 minute live interview on a major Turkish channel after the mid-morning news, with an interviewer who roamed widely over issues of university admission, globalisation, the Russell Group, research-led learning and a number of other key topics.)  Our launch involves brief speeches from the President of the University's foundation, from the Rector (who is a distinguished political scientist who has a weekly TV political chat show that I had watched the previous evening), the Principal of our International College, and me.  The President of the Foundation speaks about the blend of Greek philosophy, British modernity and pragmatism, and Turkish Islamic-inflected moral values.  Although he speaks in Turkish I pick up on key elements of his message - and the rest is explained to me afterwards.

1200 We head to a restaurant in a beautiful park looking over the Bosphorus for a lunch to celebrate what we are sure will be a successful collaboration. The President of the Foundation explains his philosophy of trying to bring different cultures and understandings of the world together.  He has a PhD on the economic history of Tokugawa Japan - in other words before the Meiji Restoration of 1868 and the opening of Japan to the rest of the world - and we can see some parallels with the history of Ottoman and modern Turkey.  I also found out how the Islamic attitude to the paying of interest results in such monies being donated to foundations for the support of education, health care and other projects of public benefit.   

1400 I am delivered back to my hotel to pick up my luggage and then driven on to the airport - a 1 hour journey of around 25 km through Istanbul's chaotic traffic.  I fly from Istanbul to Thessaloniki, changing airlines and planes in Athens.  The links between the two cities are immense but not always fully acknowledged.  The last Ottoman sultan was exiled from Istanbul to Thessaloniki after the final Balkan War, whilst the founder of modern Turkey (Mustafa Kemal Ataturk) was born in Thessaloniki. But a direct air link between the two cities only started last month, and operates only four days a week - and not when I need it.

2100 I arrive at my hotel in Thessaloniki and quickly head out to join others in a local taverna for a meal. The others are the head of the Management School (Professor Keith Glaister) and a colleague (Dr Tim Vorley), the President and International Officer of the Student Union (Josh Forstenzer and Mina Kasherova), and a senior colleague from Learning and Teaching Services (Tom Rhodes) who has looked after Sheffield's relationship with City College, our International Faculty, for many years.  We are joined by colleagues from Thessaloniki for a meal and the planning of discussions of agendas for the next two days.  Our main tasks are to forge stronger links between students in Sheffield and Thessaloniki, to discuss future plans for new activities, and to attend a meeting of the South-East European Research Centre.

2359 Our meal and group planning over, I head to a bar with Tim Vorley to talk through a visit we made two months ago to Sofia, and the day's launch in Istanbul.  We also consider the possibilities of an initiative to start delivering Sheffield programmes in Moscow.  But we are conscious of Napoleon's experience: we shall plan more fully and time our activities better than he did.

One question I was asked from the floor at the launch in Istanbul was what advantage would Sheffield gain from programmes delivered elsewhere.  My answer was that we have mbitions to deliver the Sheffield experience to students who for one reason or another will not be able to come to Yorkshire to benefit from our high quality education.  And in working in such an important country as Turkey we will raise its profile within Sheffield - to our staff and to our students.  As one of the fastest-growing economies in the world (a 9% GDP growth rate last year), Turkey demands our attention and we should recognise that connections with acacdemic colleagues and students will be of enormous benefit to us in extending our agility as an institution to play on the global educational stage.

My other blogs for this month are scheduled for 8th, 16th, 21st and 27th.