Support Staff Positions Job Description Director Of Facilities: Fill & Download for Free

Recall the contents of Newt Scamander’s suitcase. His menagerie of animals is put together with respect and sensitivity, and he approaches their care with sophistication and empathy.Newt would need a lot of room. And Hogwarts would be delighted to offer it.And why wouldn’t they? Shortly after the end of the “Fantastic Beasts” films, Albus Dumbledore and Newt will be heroes; the Wizarding World will beat a path to their doors with offers and opportunities. And so Dumbledore will be appointed headmaster at Hogwarts, and guess who his first new hire will be?Newt Scamander would have appreciated the financial and practical support for his love of magical beasts Hogwarts could offer him. He would have been one of the most popular professors of his day, and would have been many a young witch’s not-so-secret crush. You can’t normally say Hogwarts picks its profs for their good looks, can I get an amen?I could easily see the academically inclined Newt taking a whirl as professor of magical beasts at Hogwarts, probably 30 or 40 years before Hagrid’s day. He would go to Hogwarts both to find some stability after years of wandering, and because he realises the school can help him revolutionise how the Wizarding World treats magical creatures. (His service would not deprive Hagrid because of the decades separating their careers.)Newt would become one of the most honoured professionals there, and his reinvention of a field all but devoid of experts would result in the formation of a new program at Hogwarts: Magical Zoology (soon dubbed “Magizoology”).There would soon be a major new facility as well: a zoologium (to coin a word), funded by the Ministry of Magic and located outside the main castle. In this combined farm, ranch, laboratory, animal hospital, and outdoor teaching centre, the director and staff would study, develop, and raise magical animals, and teach students about certain ones that were both safe and instructive.Well, instructive, at least. Like many a hands-on animal handler in and out of the Wizarding World, Newt wouldn’t know danger from one of his charges if it bit him on the nose. You don’t fear things you understand, and Newt, like Hagrid after him, understands his critters.Although Dumbledore would initially approach Newt with the groundskeeper position, (only because it was the closest thing they had at the time), the new headmaster knew that Newt would be a long flight of stairs above such common duties. He would invite Newt to write his own desired job description.And Newt, to Dumbledore’s gratification, would have a grand vision of what he could do for the school, and it would go way beyond groundskeeper.“Professor of Magizoology” and “Director of the Ministry of Magic-sponsored British Zoologium At Hogwarts Castle” are the least of the titles this future legend would receive. One suspects that the bright young man was so single-minded that over the course of years, he both discovered and catalogued loads of new magical creatures, and revised and standardised the system for classifying them.Newt’s textbook, probably written no later than 1940, was still the definitive text on the subject half a century later. (Admittedly, wizarding texts probably hang around far longer than do muggle ones; Newt’s book probably replaced one written in 1614.)One suspects that the bright young man not only discovered and catalogued loads of new magical creatures over the years, but revolutionised the system for classifying them.But not to worry; Hagrid’s later posts would be filled. Albus Dumbledore was a master of filling, sometimes even creating, certain posts requiring minimal competence for vulnerable people who came his way; and both “groundskeeper” and “keeper of the keys” were such jobs.In this way, Argus Filch, Sybill Trelawney, and, yes, Rubeus Hagrid, were all given purpose in life in the form of ‘special’ posts that were within their limited capabilities. (And there were surely many others over the years.) For all his faults, Dumbledore did change a number of lives for the better with thoughtful and compassionate decisions like these.We know, then, that two lucky individuals would take the groundskeeper and keeper of the keys positions, which would almost certainly make them Newt’s staff who would run day-to-day operations of the Zoologium and maintain the school grounds.And wouldn’t it be neat if his old pal Jacob from New York got the post of groundskeeper - dividing his time between it and a new four-day-a-week bakery in Hogsmeade - while his wife, Queenie, became keeper of the keys and eventually, the divination professor? We know Jacob is going to be as good as an honourary member of the Wizarding World before “Fantastic Beasts” is done. How wonderful if he went full circle and became part of Hogwarts as well?

Here you have a job post for Director of Computation-based Science and Technology Research Center (CaSToRC) of the Cyprus InstitutePosition DescriptionThe Director of the CaSToRC will be responsible for the general operation and conduct of all affairs of the research center. He/she will work in Cyprus, and will be offered a tenured Professorship, with an internationally attractive salary and benefits package, commensurate to his/her high degree of responsibility and qualifications.It is expected that that Director will also be an active researcher is one of the thematic areas pursued by CaSToRC which include:Scientific Computing and Data Intensive ApplicationsComputational physics, chemistry and biologyComputational Science for Energy systems, Climate, Weather & Environmental Science and medical physics/imaging Applications of High Performance Computing in digital cultural heritage, visualization and engineeringThe incumbent should be an outstanding scholar with strong leadership qualities, with a minimum of 5 years’ experience in research management. He/she must have a scientific record of the highest international level, research expertise and leadership competencies in computational science, science and technology and of the importance of science and technology capacity building in Europe and in the Eastern Mediterranean. Previous responsibility for institution building and/or managing complex projects from development to implementation would be a strong advantage.The candidate must have excellent managerial, interpersonal and leadership skills, with strong capacities for managing human resources, and for generating and maintaining contacts in the academic, business and governmental sectors, as well as obtaining support from them for the Center. Proficiency in spoken and written English is indispensable.The Director of CaSToRC will be responsible for the conduct of all affairs of the research center, and will report to the Vice President for Research of CyI.Duties and Responsibilities The selected candidate will undertake the responsibility of the general management of the CaSToRC and will be part of the managing team of the Institute:To plan, develop and implement the research agenda of the Center.To develop and implement strategies appropriate to the Center’s mission and objectives.To recruit the Center’s research staff, and to generally manage, develop, appraise and motivate the staff members of the Center to carry out and achieve the center’s research objectives.To develop and oversee the Center’s financial budgets.To develop and improve the research and laboratory facilities of the CenterOverseeing the planning and implementing the design of the computing and other facilities appropriate to the Center’s research program.To collaborate closely with the CyI leadership for the continuous development of the Center and of the Cyprus Institute overallTo raise financial and other resources to support the research agenda and development of the CenterTo undertake tasks and initiatives in relation to her/his faculty appointmentApplicants should submit: (i) a CV including a list of publications, a compilation of research grants obtained, and relevant managerial experience, and (ii) a short, up to two pages vision statement and iii) a list of five potential referees (incl. their contact details)

Buckle Up. Long story.So in 2002 I was recruited by an organization to work for a company in Afghanistan. I was to run a very large project with certain security implications and a lot of scrutiny both in DC and abroad. I had three theoretical supervisors: My nominal in-country boss (who was a super guy and very hands-off about my job, as he knew my role and observed I was quite good at it), the owner (residing in New Jersey) of the company with which I had been placed (who was a total and complete moron as you’ll see) and the organization that placed me with the company (who were also hands-off so long as I did what I was there to do. Again, I did it well).Under me, I had about 400 or so local nationals and some US and UK personnel. I was responsible for everything from housing to security or development of the project, start to finish. My role, in my opinion, was to clearly set out the goals and timeline, ensure the staff had the resources they needed to do the job, be the guy them shielded the staff from stupid interference from outside, solve problems they couldn’t, and generally stay out of the way. Many of the guys I worked with were way more experience and much better trained than I was, but we all worked extremely well together, as they were almost all supremely professional and competent.We were operating in a very kinetic environment at the time. Besides the fact that Afghanistan in 2002 was just barely above survival/subsistence level for the majority of the country, there was still significant fighting and instability in most places outside Kabul. We worked everywhere. We also worked without the direct support of the NATO forces deployed there. I could, at my sole discretion, call on direct support from any of the NATO contingents if the heat got so bad we were in danger of catastrophic loss or injury. However, it was HIGHLY encouraged by my placement organization that I do not do so, as it would jeopardize the entire project success, and I was given the tools and leeway to see that we never got ourselves in such a situation. (later I did have an event where I had to call the army in - but that's a different story - link below).Sean Griffin's answer to What's the most desperate situation you've ever had at work?The owner of the company agreed with my placement organization that I theoretically had the authority to do that, but he was just clueless about the conditions and never believed it would come to that. He was of the mind that he alone could solve any problem that came up, but none would because of his name. Yeah… right.Anyway… We lived pretty below the radar. We kept odd schedules, drove really non-descript vehicles and kept to ourselves. We didn’t build some massive compound, but lived in one neighborhood in a series of interconnected and surreptitiously fortified houses.After my first month on the job, I shot a note out to the owner about my impressions of the project along with some observations on what was going well and what could be done better. I sent a list of recommendations and a budget for implementing them. Included in that list were several armored vehicles. Basically this:Level B6, nothing fancy. I wanted plain, basic white. In a pinch I could jam 10 people in it, it ran on diesel and I could get spare parts all day long. I wanted to have 6 or 7, one to be parked at each house and one at the main office. They were not to be used every day, but they were to be driven enough to keep well running.At first, he blew me off. I was told everything was fine, no changes were needed and I was frightened over nothing. Let me state clearly, I wasn’t frightened, I was trying to be prudent. We were operating in a war zone, performing tasks that were in public view and counter to the views of the Taliban, criminals and other destabilizing forces throughout the country. We were operating without security and in soft and semi-soft vehicles and facilities. It was a wonder nobody had been hurt, kidnapped or killed by this point. I wasn’t frightened, I thought our profile and performance was just right, but I figured it was only a matter of time and I didn’t want to make it easy for the bad guys.Eventually though, the environment got worse to a point where bombings were commonplace and word was coming to me that anti-government elements were planning to kidnap foreign personnel in the city if possible. I curtailed staff travel. I sent an email all around detailing the situation, the reasons for my action and a plan moving forward. My in-country boss agreed, my placement organization agreed and the owner ignored it.Pretty soon however, he began to notice payments being made to various and sundry security equipment supply companies for trauma bags, blast film, blast blankets, body armor/helmets, safety and medical training and other stuff. He went ballistic. I got a call one day where he was just apoplectic. He threatened to yank me out, said he wasn’t paying any of the bills and that he would take the money back from me directly for all the stuff. I let him rant on a bit and when he wound down, I asked one question. “Could he please send me a copy of our insurance certificates for Kidnap and Ransom?” He told me no, that I didn’t need that stuff and to just mind my own job. We had it and everything was fine. (everything was not fine, and we didn’t have K&R policies). Then he hung up. I kept the staff off the job.About three days later, he called me back and was very friendly and solicitous on the phone, like we’re the best of friends. My bullshit meter pegged full red. He told me that he liked me a lot, and he understood that I was trying to take care of the people with me, and that he appreciated it. He said he’d had a change of heart about the security stuff, and that he had a surprise for me! He had just bought an armored vehicle. It was the best, and I would love it. He spared no expense. My bullshit meter broke.I allowed that I appreciated him doing so, and that while one vehicle was a good start, we needed more. Additionally, could he please send me the details on the shipping and customs so I could be ready to clear it when it arrived. I assumed that like EVERY OTHER NON-MILITARY ARMORED VEHICLE IN AFGHANISTAN it would transit from Dubai to Pakistan and then be trucked up into Afghanistan by way of Jalalabad. At this point (2002) there wasn’t really much of a special process or licensing thing for the import of armored vehicles. But we still had to go through customs and then get it plated. It was at this point when he started getting defensive again. I didn’t need to worry about it, he had it all handled and he would take care of everything. I said fine, and just let me know when I needed to collect it.Things outside had calmed down a bit and it appeared the threats had subsided. Everyone went back to normal work routines.About a month later, I got a random call from a shipping company, telling me that a charter cargo flight is in-bound from Dubai to Kabul airport. I am not expecting anything, so this is news to me. What’s even more interesting, is that the flight is due to arrive in about a hour, and there’s no ramp or discharge approvals. -Short aside - At this time, NATO controlled all the airspace in Afghanistan. The landing facilities both military and commercial were operated by NATO personnel. As part of my job, I had the run of the airport and ramp access. While I wasn’t the guy who scheduled cargo flights, I knew the process. I had, on a recently previous occasion REALLY PISSED OFF the French Commander of Airport Operations when I blocked the only active taxiway with an AN-124 for about two hours. (whoops, that really was my fault). The AN-124 flight had been properly scheduled and cleared, but still not done well. So they were a little sensitive about me and my folks, and now we had a plane coming that wasn’t even on the schedule.AN-124 Afghanistan.The airport was a mess at the time. There were still active minefields all around it, lots of UXO and only the one runway was working. There was one taxiway and some cross ramps but space was at a premium and the NATO folks worked very hard to keep everything going smoothly. When a cargo flight landed, there was no commercial cargo handling equipment, we had to bring our own. Forklifts, trucks, containers, whatever. getting them screened, cleared on, ready and waiting took several hours and about a dozen NATO folks to babysit. WE HAD TO PRE-PLAN THIS. Different size planes go to different spots to keep traffic flowing.So my arriving plane has not been given any ramp space, nor have we coordinated whatever equipment we need to move whatever the cargo is (I still didn’t know). We also don’t know the size of the plane.Day exploded, I haul ass to the airport and hit the ground ops office. They have a copy of the manifest, which has all the info I need. The French Commander is really pissed. I’m doing it again. All I can do is look him right in the eye and take the hit. He can’t turn the flight away, the worst he can do is divert it to Bagram. I can handle that. I don’t want to, but I could make that work. It’s an hour drive away, but no big deal. But I’d really rather try to get it down here if possible. Luckily, there was room. The airport was busy, but not packed. The passenger flights had already come in and wouldn’t leave for several hours. There were a couple of cargo planes down, but still room for one more. And this time, we had an IL-76. Big, but not huge.IL-76, Kabul Airport (copyright to the respective owner).After about 20 minutes of the French Commander giving me my monthly ration of merde while his staff professionally got the plan done behind him for me (thanks all - they were super great people), I got the approvals. The info was transmitted to the aircraft and tower and we got on to waiting for the flight to land. Remember the manifest? It was the armored car. So, rather than desperately trying to organize some cargo handling equipment, I just went outside and waited. I did wonder if I needed to find some fuel, but figured worst case, we’d just tow it off the plane and deal with the problem later. ISAF ramp staff had a tractor we could use.French Airport Security, Kabul 2002.Airplane lands, ramp comes down. And now we get to see the best armored vehicle the owner bought, sparing no expense. It was a pimp-mobile. I got a pimp car. What rolled off the ramp was a joke.I’ll summarize:USED solid black GMC Yukon short wheel base with aftermarket brush guards, only one rear passenger door that opened (on the passenger, not driver’s side), SUNROOF, “L” shaped rear seat, VHS player and TV, PRINTER and cocktail bar.It had room for two small suitcases in the cargo space due to the armored bulkhead in the rear, and a 10.5 gallon PREMIUM gasoline tank. *I had, once upon a time, some pictures of the damned thing, and I cannot for the life of me find them. If I ever do find them I will edit this story to add them.It had a normal street suspension and brakes, and, so far as we could tell, a normal automatic transmission. Someone had taken and modified a regular Yukon into a DIY armored car. Regular street tires, no additional wiring for 2-way radios, GPS or anything else. One set of keys. ONE.There was no such thing as premium gasoline in Afghanistan at that time. At least not commercially available. There were no spare parts for a used GMC Yukon in Afghanistan. There were very few paved roads of any quality.It had been up-armored, but I had no paperwork to describe to what level, or by whom. It was heavy, and squatted on those silly street tires like a toad. We were going to stand out like a bunch of idiots or the American Embassy if we ever took this abomination anywhere.We towed it off the ramp and out of the way, and sent the plane off. We got some gasoline and drove the thing back to the office. It wallowed through every hole and lump in the road and the check engine light came on before we pulled into the office lot.I got out, locked it and carried the paperwork upstairs. As I went through all of the paperwork it became apparent what had happened. The owner of the company had a cousin who owned a used car dealership in Las Vegas. He (the cousin) happened to find at auction this used “armored SUV” and described it to the company’s owner, who decided that he rather liked the idea of having his own “look how important I am limo” status symbol for when he came to Afghanistan to visit. It got bought and shipped over. It wasn’t for us, no. It was for him. When I called to say it had arrived and that it wasn’t going to be suitable (and he had broken the customs rules by flying it in to the base and bypassing customs altogether), he got pissed and let the cat out of the bag. Between the “you’re so ungrateful” diatribe and the “you’re just a crybaby wimp for wanting armored cars” screed, he admitted we weren’t going to be allowed to use it anyway, since it was just for him when he came over. I laughed and said “thank Christ for that!”. I had the title, all the cost information, the airway bill and everything. I knew to the penny what this cost and it wasn’t less that what I had originally asked for, truck for truck. Yeah, I wanted a couple, but this was no bargain.Needless to say, I was already on the horn to the placement organization to let them know what was going on. Their advice was to get rid of it if I could and get what I wanted. It was up to me. The board of directors of the company had placed me and given me my authorities, so I could do whatever was within my remit without need for additional permission.At this time, there weren’t many folks driving US-made vehicles in Afghanistan. The embassy had a few, and a couple of contracting firms had a handful, but there really weren’t many, and the market to sell was non-existent.Enter General Karl Eikenberry. “Eikenberry served two tours of duty in the war in Afghanistan. His first tour in Afghanistan, from September 2002 to September 2003, he filled two positions—his primary duty was as the U.S. Security Coordinator for Afghanistan and the second position was the Chief of the Office of Military Cooperation-Afghanistan (OMC-A).” (wiki).Gen. Eikenberry worked at Camp Eggers in downtown Kabul, very close to the Presidential Palace. From time to time, I had business at Camp Eggers. One day, not too long after I got the black beast, I happened to be walking along the main thoroughfare in the camp called “Gator Alley” when I noticed that there were a number of Chevrolet Suburbans parked there. This was the moment I thought all my problems were solved.This photo was taken by me a few years later (2009), but this is the spot in Camp Eggers where they would always park the Suburbans and later, Ford Expeditions.I approached a soldier standing by the vehicles and asked whom I needed to speak to about them. He directed me to an office next door and to ask for Major ***. Turns out, Major *** happened to be General Eikenberry’s special projects guy. We spoke for a bit, and I asked about perhaps organizing fuel and maintenance and parts through them for my beast. Major *** said that probably wasn’t possible, and why did I have such a vehicle in the first place? I gave him the sad song about the Yukon, and how I wanted to get rid of it.He sat for a minute and then told me to wait. He got up, went inside his connex office for a few minutes and then came back out. Guess who was in the market for a fancy armored vehicle? Could I bring it by the next day for him to have a look at? Could I? Oh hell yes I could!Next morning, bright and early, I’m up and having the boys wash and shine our black beast. I drive it over to Camp Eggers and motor down Gator Alley. There’s Major *** waiting to have a look. He hops in, heads out and returns a few minutes later. It’s perfect for General Eikenberry’s needs. Something he can use real quick to get between the Embassy, Eggers, the Palace and the Airport. Slightly upscale, and just right for impressing various Afghan military leaders and tribal officials. How much?I look Major *** right in the eyes and name, to the penny, the exact cost of the truck, shipping and the fuel we put in. It came out at just under $104K. He didn’t even haggle. We signed a bill of sale, I gave him the keys and paperwork and we went to the contracting office to collect my cash.I was pretty proud of myself. I got rid of a totally unsuitable vehicle at break even, made the army happy, and didn’t have to worry about that albatross any more. Good day’s work.About a week later, I got word the owner of the company was flying over. He’s going to spend a week in the office to see how things are going, visit some family and generally lord around town as a rich and powerful man. He’s excited because he has a fancy ride to cart around in. We hadn’t told him it had been sold. When asked what to do, I said just get him as normal in a regular vehicle and I’d meet him later.Apparently, when he exited the airport to find no new armored limo, he was pretty pissed. So pissed in fact, that he didn’t go to the house to unpack and rest, but came straight to the office to find and scalp me.So I’m sitting in my office, minding my own business when the owner screeches in and starts yelling. And I mean yelling! Like, people down the hall poking their heads out to see whats up yelling. Afghans don’t yell in public. Not in anger. It’s just not done unless you want a fight. If you’ve done something wrong, it’s time to hold hands and have a quiet discussion over tea. That’s how you know an Afghan is upset with you, when he takes your hand and sits you down for a talk about what a fuck-up you are or have made. This guy was having none of that — he was full on screaming at me.Now, in my office there were three people normally. Me, the in-country boss and a finance guy. We were all there. I take the abuse for a bit, never moving from my chair and then the owner takes a breath and asks where his truck is. He knows the answer, I sold it, but he needs to hear it from me. I oblige. “I sold it”.“Get it back” he says.“Not gonna happen”, I respond.He then proceeds to lecture me and the other two guys in the office (who have been fully read in every step of the way) that I had no right or authority to sell the truck, and that he was sure I lost money because it was very expensive, and he would find out who I sold the truck to and get it back and I was in very deep trouble.I stood up, went to the finance guy and instructed him to open the safe. I pulled out a box, took it to my desk and dumped it out. In addition to copies of all the paperwork, were bundles of brand new $100 bills. I told him I knew exactly how much the truck cost, including shipping, and I even got the money for the tank of gas we bought. It was all there, to the penny.He got silent. He turned red. He looked around the room and by god, my two co-workers were staring at him, dead silent and smiling. He looked back at me and said “you didn’t make a profit”. I told him no, I didn’t and that was the point. I didn’t try to. I just wanted to erase his mistake and do the right thing. He could take his money back, but he wasn’t getting the car. The US Army owned it and he wasn’t going to bluster them into returning it to him. I went back over what a shitty vehicle it was for what we needed and that I would be more than happy to brief him on why, personally. I didn’t make a profit because he would have taken the wrong lesson from the result.He stayed quiet for another long minute and then said, this isn’t over. With that, he turned and left the room. The door hadn’t latched before all three of us left were laughing out loud.A month later, I was home on leave. My return date was fast approaching and I still didn’t have a ticket back over to Afghanistan. I called the office in NY a couple of times and left messages, but hadn’t gotten a call back from anyone. So I finally called my placement folks the day before I was leaving and they said go ahead and get my own ticket and I’d be reimbursed.So I’m at the Atlanta airport when I get a call on my cell. It’s the NY office of the company. Bag in hand, I take the call. It’s the assistant to the HR lady, who tells me that I will not be returning to Afghanistan as the company has decided to replace me. I didn’t know this person, and I had nothing in writing. I was literally in the airport ready to board my outbound flight to Dubai via Paris. I was going. She told me I couldn’t, and I replied that until I heard from someone with authority to remove me, I was going. I explained that I had called the office several times with no reply, I had paid for my own ticket, and my contract wasn’t up. If I were going to be let go, there were steps that had to be taken and a phone call from a receptionist wasn’t one of them. I was polite, but that's the way it was.We hung up and I continued on to Paris. By the time I arrived, there were a number of voicemails on my phone from the home office. Additionally, in my email there were a series of urgent notices and forms for my attention. They had officially gotten around to letting me go in accordance with the terms of my agreement. But, actually, they hadn’t. The added complication was that my placement organization had some authority over the terms of my contract. I was actually their employee and not one of the company. Further, they were on the board of the company (albeit silently) and were the primary funder of the company. They had a lot of sway. I had been doing an excellent job, and the work product was top notch, beyond all expectation. My staff was happy and productive, we had no major security incidents, cost were low and the end client was pleased with the result. All of this information was in other emails waiting for me in Paris.At this point, I called the placement organization and they said keep going. They would sort it out. So on I went to Dubai.There were however, other factors at play.In the end, Dubai was as far as I got with that company. My placement organization determined that they had another situation that could use my help. The company came up with some ludicrous reasons for my termination, which I accepted, along with several pounds of flesh.In the final document, it was stated that “I had an underappreciation for the cultural complexities and nuance of interpersonal communications with Afghans, making me a poor fit for leadership within the firm”. (I sold the owner’s toy and he got mad).I was back in Afghanistan within two months and stayed for 11 additional years.