More back and forth

Dear Articulate:
How did your trip to Beautiful Nowhere go? Tell all.
Otherwise, hope all's well.
Cheers,
Tasse

Hi Tasse,

Nice to hear from you. The trip went well. I was impressed with the degree of camaraderie among the faculty, and the commitment of students (about 30 showed up and stayed through my hour-long teaching demo, on the Thursday of finals week!). It's a small school in the middle of nowhere, but it might be a pleasant place to pass some time. But, they haven't made a decision yet. So, I sits and waits. They say I should hear something by Friday. I'm going to Scotland in a week. There's a conference on _____________ where I'll be presenting a paper. I may not be able to make a decision until I get back. I had thought, if they offer me the job, I might try to negotiate it into a one-year post. They've got quite a few job postings lately, which tells me they've got money which could be shifted around.

But, I had a talk with the Rocket Scientist last night. Sounds like she's unwilling to move for anything less than a tenure-track job, since she fears otherwise she'll be holding a series of one-year jobs. I had hoped (assuming I get an offer for one-year) that she would consider looking for work in some major east coast city, within a four-hour flight of Beautiful Nowhere. But, it looks not. So, I've got some tough decisions ahead of me. Since we currently live near a small regional airport (with a diminished flight schedule) any commute for me, to anything less than a major hub, becomes exceedingly difficult. It took 14 hours to get to Beautiful Nowhere (three legs), which likely means I'd only be making the return trip a couple times a month, unless I can also finagle their M-W-F schedule into a M-W-Th or something. I'm just afraid if I don't get something now, to fill out my CV with a Visiting Assistant post, I may be out for good.

I just simply don't get it, Tasse. I can't fathom what's missing from my applications. I don't know if I told you: I had a long talk with The Leprechaun a couple weeks back. I said: I need your help, my career is going nowhere slowly. So we talked for about 45 minutes! I asked if there was any way he could offer me a class or two to teach next year. He was non-committal. In the end he suggested that he would call some of the places I'm applying to, to nudge them into a second look at my file. He said, from his experience, that often helps.

The most eye-opening part of our talk was when he explained (his view of) the filtering process search committees go through. He said: Let's say there are 100 applications, and 20 of them stand out. So, the chair begins with that pile... "Hey, this looks interesting, [Interesting area]... Mary you know anything about this? No... hmm... what about this, [Outlying area]... Joe, you know anything about that area? No... hmmm... [Interdisciplinary Topic]... hmmm." And so it goes until all 20 of the standouts have been put aside, since no one is familiar with their research. Then they attack the 80 who all look familiar: [Conservative topic] scholars, [Mainstream topic] scholars, [hip trendy topic] ... and that's the end.

I laughed: You mean to tell me, we're ushered through grad school, and taught to raise interesting questions, to find our niche, to stand out, to be unique, novel in our approach... but when it comes down to hiring, we're all supposed to look the same?

Patience. I know. Not even a year into my imaginary 3-year fellowship. I know. Well, for what it's worth, attached are my two most recent cover letters, and my current CV. Perhaps you can find something glaringly out of place in them. I'm also trying to decide about applying to [Medium State University] for a couple Instructorships (a one-year in [subfield 1], and a two-year in [subfield 2]). But, I'd prefer if the rank were Visiting Asst. Prof., and I'm worried about the commute. So, I can't decide.

By the way, I gave the [Host Department] Colloquium talk here last Thursday which focused on the issue raised in my NEH fellowship proposal. Overall it was well-received. Let's hope the NEH committee likes it as much.

Be well,
sorry to trouble you with my troubles,
I hope your family is thriving,

Articulate

Dear Articulate:

Long ago I had this same "conversation" with [Mentor] (it actually may have been a conversation, since I'm not sure that e-mail was completely in place yet...). First of all, what's "missing" from your applications is...the US economy and the state of academic markets. In other words, if there were twenty jobs open it wouldn't make your work "good," and getting stiffed, doesn't make it "bad." Your "problems" are a result of economic conditions. Period.

With all respect to The Leprechaun's theory, you *did* make it to the very finals of a very good job where your competitor was...another [Your Dissertation Topic] guy. So it's really about luck and pluck. That is, work hard, don't get bitter, keep your nose clean and hope for luck. You're a white male, about which you can do nothing, and you chose to avoid trendy lit crit stuff; but you've got an excellent resume and something will come through.

Now, even with all this, there are always things any of us can do to make ourselves more marketable (but almost nothing that will *guarantee* employment). I've tried to suggest that you keep moving forward, applying for grants, take the "negatives" of your situation (no teaching job) and turn them in to strengths (3-year research fellowship in a gorgeous place). And I've said to you what I say to myself quite a bit: listen more, talk less.

Please feel free to call, or send me a number and a time to call if you want to talk about any of this.

Cheers,

Tasse

Harbinger?

This morning, I was in a mood for groveling, a little bit. Frustrated by the lack of feedback, the dearth of phone calls, absence of interviews. So, I headed over to my doctoral department (since I'm still on the same campus, just a post-doc in another department). Knocked on the door of one ex-professor. He was prepping for a lecture, so we agreed to set up a time for coffee. Then, I headed over to the chair's office, you know, the one who ignored my fellowship application. I told you I was in the mood for groveling.

I asked when would be convenient for him, and didn't even roll my eyes when he suggested I come back a couple hours later. So, I did, a couple minutes before 10:30. He talked to me for 45 minutes! Gah! Bear in mind, that's about 38 minutes more than I've ever spoken to him before (all put together!). I may have finally broken through his defenses, presenting myself as one of his students, in need of his assistance. (You know, the Timid Scholar routine, as best I can play it).

In the end, I instilled in his mind that I am eager and willing to do just about whatever it takes to convince him to give me a class to teach next year. He was noncommittal, but at least he's thinking about it. And, he suggested perhaps he could make some calls on my behalf to departments where I've applied, saying (from experience) that sometimes a call to the committee or department chair to urge a second look at the CV can be the foot in the door that is needed to get an interview. He even followed up by calling one department (a T-T post which I had mentioned) that would actually be only about an hour flight from where we live, meaning actually, really, honestly commutable.

I had earlier sent a brief note to Dr. TassePlein just catching him up on what I'm doing, and mentioning in passing my travails with Dr. Icouldn't Careless at LVU. His response was nice. He was surprised though that I hadn't heard back from Temporary Post U in Beautiful Nowhere. He had mentioned last week that he had gotten a call from them. In the middle of typing my reply, my cell phone rang... HR at TPU. Look, now let's not blow this out of perspective. But, you know what, this is the first call I've gotten this year. No telephone interview. They're just going to fly me out there next week!

The HR guy suggested May 18. Nothing doing.

I'm giving a colloquium talk that day.
Okay... how about next week? Friday or Thursday?
Fine, fine, that'd work.

It's an interview. That's a big step. Of course Beautiful Nowhere will likely be a full-day's travel each way, making it the commute from hell. I'm not yet really sure if it's even workable. But, it's a one semester post, three classes. We'll see.

So, I have this fellowship proposal to finish and submit today. Um, yeah, today. I've got to work up my conference paper for this weekend. What's it 15 minutes? I can do that.

I'll have a teaching demo in Beautiful Nowhere next week. I don't know yet what they'll be wanting. I'll get word, once they've worked out my travel arrangements. That gives me incentive to write up this syllabus for my application to Tough Commute U. Then, of course, there's my colloquium talk, May 18. I wonder when I'll hear from Scotland about this June conference? What about Italy? Should I go to this International Society for Innovative Interdisciplinarity there in August? I'm not presenting. I didn't submit an abstract this year.

This morning, I was thinking I'd get through this month, then plan to take some time off of the grind, to get perspective, to let go. I need to remember what I need and what I want (different things!). That's the perspective I sometimes lose. Well, we'll see what comes of my interview. Meantime, um... I've got some work to do.

Beautiful Nowhere

Here's the description of Beatiful Nowhere, from one of the links sent me by Human Resources at TPU:

Beautiful Nowhere is a rural community located in a scenic, mountainous region 30 miles south of Small City [known for housewares manufacturing] and 48 miles north of Never Heardofit. The area is noted for its quality of life and numerous recreational opportunities. The university falls within _____ County which is home to three state parks, two federal parks, seven lakes, the _____ Rail Trail (hiking, bicycling, x-country skiing trail), and the 50-mile long gorge of the __________ Canyon. ... Regional attractions include the Small City Museum of [Housewares], the _____ Lakes and wineries ..., and the _________ River and ___________ Mountains range.

Sounds pretty. We'll see how the interview goes, and I'll try to figure out if the logistics will work.

Oh I'm a dues-paying member of the academic class
paying dues
paying dues
where's the class?
where's the class?

I'm a dues-paying member of the academic class
will the dues that I pay
give me class
give me class?

Check, check

• NEH Fellowship proposal submission
• Check
• Campus visit to Temporary Post U scheduled
• Check
• (OUCH! I leave my home airport around 9:00 on Wednesday morning, and arrive in Beautiful Nowhere just before 11:00 pm local time. Thursday, interviews and teaching demo, all day. Depart by plane Friday afternoon, arriving back home around 10:30 pm local time)
• Can I really do this? [SIGH] It's my choice. But right now, it's a selection of one... like a restaurant that's sold out of everything but the cabbage soup. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not sure I won't like cabbage soup. I might love it. I just... well, I just wish I had more choices.
• Other aspect, revealed over the phone today with the chair of the search committee (the prof who's going on sabbatical for the term, thus the reason for the post): I'd be teaching three classes, yeah, but two sections of one of them, making it 4 classes, right? We'll see. I'm not going to get too worked up about anything for now. If it looks good, it's probably worth making the sacrifices for a semester. If it doesn't work out, well, I'm no worse than I started, and, hey, I got a nice vacation in the airports in Beautiful Nowhere.
• Prepare paper for conference this weekend
• Uh... not yet.
• Oh... I discovered it's not 15-20 minutes... but 30. Then again, if I schedule for 20 minutes of talk, with 10 minutes of discussion, that's not so bad. Besides, I'll likely run 20 minutes into 23 or so. Better to be concise and done early, than wordy and run over. Hopefully there'll be discussion.
• Then, I've got to work up my teaching demo, the syllabus for my application to Tough Commute U. (and finally send it off). Then, when I can breathe again, I'll finish reading this book for the review, and write up and send in my review.
• What then? [SIGH]
• Hmmm. I wonder if our house is actually going to close. Today is the (extended) deadline on resolving all issues. Since we refused to give another dime, it's up to the agents to deal with whether they're going to fill the gap (or speak reason into the buyer). Doesn't matter to me. I just want to know one way or the other.
  

Self-reflective of late

What's it all about? I feel overwhelmed with my own thoughts lately. Overwhelmed by the myriad tangents set before me. One of the biggest difficulties of being where I am--in a sort of limbo between finishing the PhD and finding meaningful employment that engages that PhD part of my life--is that I feel directionless, ungrounded.

Let me put this in some perspective. Let's say I get funded for the NEH fellowship (I won't hear until December, so it's not even worth thinking about too seriously). Okay, then I have 9 months to a year during which I'm focused. I'm given funding and, at least as important, encouragement to pursue a particular project for a specified period of time. That's great! Let's say I'm offered the post in Beautiful Nowhere. Okay, then I'm given 3 or 4 classes to teach. I'm given a concrete purpose, a specified task, and a circumscribed time frame.

Now, let's look where I am today. I'm a Visiting Scholar in [Field 2]. That's the equivalent to having a janitorial pass into some large corporation. I can wander the halls, thumb through things. If I'm gone in a week, they'll likely forget me in two. Oh, I'm sure a few of them would be curious every now and again: gee, I wonder what happened to Articulate... what's he up to these days? Then it would pass. This isn't self-pity. I suppose I'll forget them in the same way. Not that I'll forget my time here at the University of Paradise, nor the kindness this department has granted me. But, I'm not connected to it. If I sit in the lab playing solitaire all day, or plug away at my research, it matters little to them.

Right now, I'm taking a breather from being swamped. I had three big things back to back. Now I've got a week and a half before I head to Scotland for a conference and presentation. 15 minutes. That's what I get. So, I'll work up a presentation this week. But, I just gave a 90-minute talk on essentially the same stuff last week, so it won't be much of a challenge, I'd think.

Then, I come back. I'm committed to spending some good quality time with my boys and my wife this summer. I've got some minor revisions of my dissertation distillation article, then that's really in press. I've said I want to submit four articles this summer. One of them would be new, based on what I presented a few weeks ago at the regional SOD conference. The other three I'm thinking would be worked up from old materials that I never published. That's ambitious, but within the realm of possibilities.

What else? I'll work up and submit a grant proposal for my longitudinal study. But, I'm still seeking some grounding, some direction. These grant and fellowship apps are--yes, working up research that I want to do--but mostly grabbing for a hand-hold, hoping to find some place to hold on for a while, some direction, some concrete tasks to accomplish.

But what then? I'm somewhat at a loss at the moment for what to do with my life if an academic career seems unattainable in the next year or so.

I had a wonderful date with my wife on Saturday. We walked along the beach, and had dinner. I asked her (what I always ask): where do you want to be in 5-10 years? And she replied as is her wont: You always ask me that... I don't know! We discussed where and how we'd like our boys to grow up. We asked each other about our current priorities (even when they don't change, it's good to reiterate them ever so often): freedom; financial independence; a garden; leisure to plant and to play with our boys; respect and being valued at work. These aren't big things, but they're the important ones.

The Rocket Scientist asked me if I'd be happy as a director of research and development for some corporation, or setting up my own company with some venture capital. Yeah, I probably would. I'd likely be better paid, and less stressed than being a professor. Who knows? Maybe that's my path. For now, I wait to hear from TPU in Beautiful Nowhere. And I sit, and wonder.

Talk with the Leprechaun

I mentioned the other day that I spent 45- minutes with my doctoral department chair, whom we'll call the Leprechaun. I was quite surprised at the extensiveness of our chat, since, as I've mentioned before, he's a man of few words. I gave him his due, with my obsequious gesture of asking him when might be convenient to talk (even though he had just looked at his clock in a signal that he was considering how much time he might have immediately). I thought it best to give him the sense that I knew I was imposing, that it was his time, and he could control it.

When I returned, I got right to the point and said "I need your help. My career is going nowhere slow, and I'm hoping you can give me some feedback, direction, advice." I guess that wasn't what he expected. It was a curious time, since we were both talking around things. He, not wishing to say directly what he thinks of my work, and me trying not to directly challenge him for things like letting my fellowship application to the department die without any consideration.

But, he gave me a clearer sense of what a typical search committee might be looking at than I had previously. At least, he stated somethings that I had only suspected. Here's the sense he gave:

Okay, so the committee has a stack of about 100 applications. 80 of them look pretty much alike. Then they pull out 20 over here. "Hmmm," says one, "[uncommon methodology subdiscipline], that's interesting. Hey, Joe, you know anything about [uncommon methodology]? No. Mary? Hmmm. Okay, well let's just put this one aside." And so it goes, until they put all those 20 aside, and decide to concentrate on the 80 that look alike, the mainstream candidates.

"Wow," I said. "I mean, this is a bit funny. We're all shepherded through grad school, taught to be unusual, to stand out, to ask interesting questions, to be unique. And yet, you're telling me that when it comes to hiring, they want us all to look the same."

Well, that was eye-opening. For both of us. For me, because it puts perspective on some of the comments I've gotten in the past, intimating that while my research looks interesting, I need to find a way to convince committees I'm ready, willing, and able to teach Introduction to... courses. Of course I can teach those. I've been studying [Field1] at the university level for, god what is it, 16 years now? I know this stuff. That's not a problem.

The Leprechaun seemed to imply that no matter what, if there's a large stack of look-alikes, it's that stack that's attended to first, rather than the standouts. How backwards. And yet, I guess the trick is to look enough alike, but still stand out from that crowd, like wearing a bright orange shirt with purple stripes at Disneyland, but donning a MickeyMouse hat like everyone else. [SIGH].

It was eye-opening for him as well, since in the midst of explaining the process to me, he remarked on several other (more senior) scholars in [Field 1] who are nonetheless asking questions outside the mainstream. For some, he had barbed criticism, but for others he seemed truly pleased that someone, some department, had given them the chance. I think that was the crucial point at which he began to see me in a different light, not as the maverick former student, but possibly as someone who in ten or twenty years will be seen as a pioneer of the sorts of questions that come from my niche interdisciplinary subdiscipline.

Besides, if he helps me get a job, he may be finally done of me. I'm sure he'll be glad to see me walk out his door for good. For now, I've got this interview next week at TPU in Beautiful Nowhere.

Another nibble, and yaiiee, this one tastes good

Got an email this morning from the administrator for Larry Strope's Center at Big West Private University.

Dear Dr. Dad,

Thank you for applying to the position opening at the Center for Interdisciplinary Research in [Field 1] and [related science field] in the Department of [Field 1] at Big West Private University. As our committee proceeds with the search process, we would greatly appreciate additional materials for consideration.

The letter goes on for three more paragraphs.

Excruciating. Not pain... nerves. Ooh this would be good. Here's from the job posting:

Teaching responsibilities at the undergraduate and graduate levels will include courses in the candidate’s areas of expertise.

Um... like, I'd be teaching what I'm really interested in? This would be, from what I can tell, a well balanced research/teaching post.

I think I want this job. Relax, relax.

But can I just say that, after a year of virtually nothing (other than the interview for the one-term gig at Beautiful Nowhere), to get two requests for supplemental materials in the one week is quite exhilarating.

Head poke

Just poking my head in. As you must have surmised... I'm on blog hiatus. I've let my bloglines reading lapse (over 300 messages taunting me), and I've let my voice here go silent.

I'm in transition, seeking a new path for my current trajectory, and a fuller understanding of just where I'm headed. I've contemplated starting a new blog, for my new self, letting PhDBlue fade as a closed chapter of my life. But is it closed? I suppose, one can always reopen a chapter, reread the lines.

Last night, Rocket and I were talking. I spoke of some of my new fantasies. Not necessarily fantasies about if and when I reach great success. But ... well, I said there's a part of me that would be happy to take a job like the one in Beautiful Nowhere, settle down to being a professor, buy a small farm, raise chickens, grow vegetables, open a little restaurant or B&B, can my own jams and sauces, sell them, on days I don't feel like being elsewhere.

She said, you know, it's okay to have different parts of your self, and to let them come out. It's okay to be complex, and to appreciate that complexity.

So, just now, I'm trying to settle in for the long haul that my current projects require. The screenplay will take me sometime. If I can "sell" the idea, it will take even longer to realize. And my analysis: I'm trying to do something quite different with Applied Research Field than has been done. I'm trying to look at things in a way that has been overlooked. And I'm trying to learn as much as I can about what has been done, and how, so that I can piece together many of the tools that are currently available. No need to reinvent the wheel, when I just wish to make a better chassis.

If I do start a new blog, I'll let you all know. Meantime, friends, thank you for being there these past couple years. And thank you for your patience with me as I enter my cocoon. Who knows? Maybe life as a butterfly awaits.

Welcome to tomorrow

A happy, healthy, and prosperous 2007 to all my friends in the blogosphere!

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow.

Last week, I commented on growing weary of the chase for a faculty post. I've thought a good deal about the matter during the past couple weeks. (Couple weeks?, you say, you've been obsessed by the matter as long as I've known you. Conceded.)

My first year on the search, '04-'05, the year I finished my dissertation and became PhD, I was far less picky. Ironic, isn't it? I would have been content to take just about any post that afforded me the title of assistant professor somewhere, anywhere. I would have been eager to teach any service course, to cover every committee assignment, sit through all department meetings without a huff or complaint. But then... a season passed with only close calls.

Last year, many of you met me, as this blog came into being, granting me an outlet for my frustrations and hopes, my fears and opportunities. The season came and went. The only interview I had last year was for a one-term sabbatical replacement in Beautiful Nowhere. In the end, another close call (2 against 3, as I was told). And now.

The season has come to its ebb. It's not over, for sure. But the new year (reflecting a break between terms) seems to mark a separation between early and late postings. Most of the latter will be one-year interim fills, which other than local possibilities, I don't anticipate applying for (for pragmatic and logistical reasons). In any case, the majority of my applications are already out. Most of what remains is waiting. I wait to hear if the two which have requested supplemental materials will be inviting me for an interview. I wait to see if any of the other schools will contact me, either for supplemental materials, or to set up a telephone interview.

I am still quite excited about the post at Big West Private. There's a history there with that position, as I've been in touch with the center's director for a couple years now. The more I think about the position, the more I realize it is in many ways the type of position I've been hoping for. At the moment, just about everything else pales in comparison, which leads me to the sentiment at the end of "I grow weary of the chase" (linked above).

And it leads me perhaps closer to striking out on my own (in earnest this time, not in consolation while I continue to wait). I have been self-employed for just about all of my adult life (other than waiting tables, which is rather close to freelancing, in any case). In part it's due to my drive and spirit; in part, it's also due to my stubbornness and thirst for freedom (both of which are somewhat anathema to surviving in a university department). As a graduate student, the former qualities made up for the latter. So far, I haven't been afforded the chance to see if that continues to facultyhood.

What I have resolved is that now ends the time in which my self-identity is defined by my lack of a university title. From here on, I'm Articulate Dad, PhD: researcher, writer, entrepreneur, husband, father, brother, son. If yet a faculty post comes along, whether an offer from Big West Private, Western Flagship, or somewhere else, I will consider it, in consultation with my wife and family. But I resolve to be whole without it.

I didn't call it blues for nothing!

Well, I hope I didn't scare you all off with that last posting. I'm just so worn out, so bitter, so sad, these days.

Silence. No call today. Today was supposed to be the deadline by which I would hear back from TPU in Beautiful Nowhere. I'm an old hand. I know what that means. At least I don't have an impossible commute to look forward to.

Applied for another job this week, and plan to submit for a second when I get home in two weeks, late postings, both tenure-track (assumedly to replace someone who took a post elsewhere). I decided not to apply for one temporary lecturer post that would be a tough commute, since lecturers make so much less than asst. profs at that insitution (about a third of which, or possibly half after taxes, would be eaten up by commuting), and the rank was non-negotiable. This just takes so much out of me. There is no consolation prize, no award for second-best.

Sure, there are many things to keep me from getting too discouraged, to help me keep it all in perspective. But in the end, I still have no job, no real validation for the work and effort I put into the PhD, and continue to pour into my research. Perhaps my wife's proposal is the best: we just pick someplace we want to live (near a major market airport) where she can forge a good career, and I just keep plugging away. Lord knows we can't make much of a life out here, where a house half the size of the one we sold rents for three times as much as our old mortgage. Buying a house out here is simply out of reach without a second income, and the prospects for me in that regard seem negligible at best.

Not that all things in my life are down. In fact, the lack of career prospects seems the only real downer. But then, that's what this blog is most about. There are strong incentives for chucking it all, and starting over. But I feel like a gambler who knows just one more shot will win me the jackpot. The hope keeps me coming back. Only time will tell.

At the airport in Beautiful Nowhere

Maybe it's the music... this place seems to be lost in the 1980s. So everything I hear brings up melancholy.

I really just feel like crying, to let it all out. My whole life these past few years is crushing on me. I miss my dad. I just want to call him up, and have him reassure me now. But it won't happen. I'm on my own.

I'm the youngest of my dad's three sons. When he died, my mother said to me:

You know, this means you're the head of the clan now.

You see, I'm the one married, with kids. I'm the one with a PhD. I'm stable. But I don't always feel that way.

My eldest brother called me last night (about 1:00 in the morning local time). He was at the airport, returning from a job interview. Here's a guy, who during the internet boom was worth over a million on paper. And now, he's been out of work, having only temporary jobs for a couple years, living off unemployment. We've already lent him thousands. Every month is a new crisis.

He called to ask if I would front him the money (loan is the word he used, but it's a euphemism) to cover a hotel room, since his flight wasn't until the morning. Otherwise, he said, he'd have to just find a bench in the airport to sleep on. It was hard, but the right thing to do, to say "no". Applying my rule, it was easier for him to do without, than for me to provide. Sure, I could cover the cost. But really, I didn't want to. I didn't want to enable him anymore. His addiction is money. I'm tired of hearing him call a job offer for 75 grand "shit" as he did recently, show off his new GPS system, then call me to cover his hotel bill.

I love you, but I can't do it.

I'm in an existential crisis. I travel through life these days, mostly feeling remote, removed from what passes. I'm conscious of every bite of food I take, sitting at the airport, as if it were some object of study, something unfamiliar.

Fly like an eagle... to the sea...
time keeps on slippin slippin slippin
into the future

The music plays. Slippin' slippin' slippin' into the future. Where will I be in a year? No matter. Where will I be in five or ten? I think of road-tripping with my boys. What will we talk about? I miss my dad. The sadness comes. I tear up, and wrinkle my face.

There... she... goes
there she goes again

The music plays on. So many things go well in my life. And yet I feel stalled. I'm unsure of what I want. Ah, the leisure of being unemployed gives us time to ruminate. There's value in rushing through; we lack the time to question, to self-doubt. Is it not so, that for each one there are many worlds? How do we know which fork in the road is right? I guess the harder thing is wondering when the forks will appear. When will I be able to decide? At least if I make a choice, there're new landscapes, new horizons, until that next fork appears.

It matters not how straight the gate
How wracked with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul

It's easy to steer, far harder to set a course.

Conflicted... now what?

I feel like I should have something to say; I've tried to write this post several times since yesterday evening. I'm so overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. I'm relieved that finally some place has deigned to interview me. In fact, I'm feeling quite confident that this place will offer me the temporary gig. I know that they have yet to meet the other candidates, but something tells me that I've set the standard. Everything has gone smoothly. I don't seem to have made any mis-steps, there were no awkward moments, no answers to questions I wish to restate. No person here who raises my hackles.

But what do I do with that? See, part of me is down that this is only a temporary post. I felt a great rapport with quite a few of my would-be colleagues. Many of the conversations have seemed to be selling me on the place, explaining away the downsides with all the ups. But (if I come) I'll just be passing through. It doesn't really matter how much I like or dislike the school or the location. It's only temporary. How can you build a love or hate for a place that you visit for a few months? Perhaps I'll make a mark (I'm sure I will, if I come... I'll enjoy it). But then it's over. Will this get me closer to my goal of obtaining a tenure-track post? Would something else be better?

It's not so easy as that. I suppose, had I gotten a job straight out of graduate school, I wouldn't have had the leisure to worry about it. I might complain about how that job wasn't perfect (but what job is). But I would accept it as inevitable. Maybe go back on the market a few years later. The longer I remain seeking however, the higher my hopes are for finding that perfect job. The more I settle with the likelihood of finding a series of temporary posts, the more I wonder where I really want to be, whether I can get there, and how. Recall Academic Coach's image of the Academic AWOL. We're dealing with a similar phenomenon: the longer I spend looking for work, the less likely I am to be excited or satisfied with anything less than stellar. Only, I'm not quite sure what stellar would look like.

Let's say I'm offered this job. The job itself would be fine. The department and faculty would be good to work with. It's a small school, in many ways with a "service" mission, but quality still. The students are dedicated. Maybe it's not where I'd like to be in ten years, but that's not an option for me at this point. It's only a one-term sabbatical replacement. But the commute, being away from my family. I'm sure I could make it work. If they offer to hire me, I'm sure they'll work with me (as long as I perform and produce for them, which I would). So, it's doable.

Part of me is hoping something more local will work out. Yet, I recognize psychologically it's better for me to have an offer where they sought me out, rather than some adjuncting locally, where I sought them. It's a conflict. In ways, a local gig would be better (especially if the school itself were more prestigious). Yet I expect teaching adjunct for Big Name school, I'd likely feel as low man on the totem pole, often ignored, simply there to fill in. At Temporary Post U. in Beautiful Nowhere, I'd probably feel like a superstar, the dashing hero who comes in to hold things together. That'd be a nice feeling (though I'd surely miss my family).

But what would I gain by taking the gig? More teaching experience. Okay, it'd be good to have some new student evaluations. But how can I tell that teaching is the element search committees have dropped me over? From what my old department chair said about the search process, I suspect it's not so much the lack of recent teaching, as the way I've presented myself. I go back to the advice I got a while back. Part of the problem lies in the fact that I'm branching out into new areas of research, hidden in the cracks betwen disciplines.

For TPU, that seems to be appealing. At the moment, I'm leaning more toward a program like TPU's where my ostensible subfield is a small part of the program, considered a service area to the other subfields, where I would teach a broad range of materials in the subfield, but have greater control over presentation and approach. I've mentioned before how I feel I would fit in best to either this sort of program or a very large one. I'm beginning to believe that the better fit is of this kind. I like the idea of having greater freedom of approach to the subject. The down side is, with a smaller program, I won't likely have my own graduate students.

Perhaps my best plan is to find this sort of job, to hold until I'm up for tenure, then reassess. If, at that point, I'm really eager for graduate students, to further develop my subarea, then I may have acquired the requisite reputation within my niche to warrant the attention of a larger program. Am I lowering my standards? Maybe not. I might just be seeking the best path for my ultimate goals, thinking where I want to be in 5-10, not worrying about where I am now. That might be a better plan. Taking the quiet path now, might allow me the space and freedom that I had in graduate school to really follow my own muse, to develop my own ideas.

Sorry for the long-winded rambling.

Sign off, redux

I finished the syllabus for the application to TCU, quite a good and thorough one. I'm sure I'll be able to use it wherever I wind up. I've printed off all of the relevant materials, and put them in a large envelope, entrusting my wife to express them out tomorrow. They just need to arrive by the 15th, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.

I have a cab coming at 7:30 am tomorrow to take me to the airport, on my way to Beautiful Nowhere. I've gathered up all the materials I'll be taking with me to prep for my teaching demo. For my sanity, I'll be reading up on the topic, as much to simply distract me, as to hone up. I think it will help me remain focused, rather than nervous. 50 minutes, that's the time I've got to fill. That should be easy. I've got to hit the sack soon, just as soon as I'm sure I've got everything packed and ready to go.

There are still more job applications (temporary posts all) to file when I get back to town. And I won't be able to come up for air any time soon. (Sorry, it's a perfectly common expression, but these days all I can think about when I say it is "bubble boy" at Lincoln Center). But I don't really want to at this point. I feel like I'm on a roll. I want to get out four articles this summer. That's my goal.

Get famous! That's my task. I've got to remember.

So much to do, so little time

Spurts! That's how my life seems to function, in spurts. I twiddle and twiddle, and diddle, and dum... then all of a sudden I'm swamped.

Let's see, no deadlines, nothing pressing (except job applications) from the start of the school year. Then, conference talk last week, interview this week, colloquium lecture next week, international conference in three weeks, revision requests for my forthcoming (dissertation distillation) article, due in a month. Still have to write up the book review for [Field 2] journal.

And, most pressing, I've got to write this syllabus (I've been so bad in procrastinating) for my application to Tough Commute U. and get that sent off to be received before the deadline of May 15... meaning, in all reality, I have to do it today, and express mail it tonight or tomorrow a.m. before my flight to Beautiful Nowhere.

I want to do my best at this interview. But I'm quite apprehensive about what the prospect of taking such a job might do for my family (especially the Painter). Partly, this is my own personal baggage. My folks were divorced by the time I was four (the age the Painter is now). My two older brothers, my mom, and I moved 200 miles away from my dad at that point. We got to see him only during holidays and a few weeks in the summer.

Okay, one semester is not a lifetime. We'll just have to see. What sort of scheduling can I work out? Is it possible to be on campus only four days a week, so I could go home every weekend? We'll just have to see. But this adds greater impetus to getting out other applications like TCU, since they may offer me alternatives. [SIGH] God, I wish I just had a real, permanent, full-time, tenure-track offer! I don't want to be forced to make these sorts of choices: your career or your family! It's just not right.