Drafting, drafting, writing... but this is scary. Do I have the courage to write my own proposal*? It's a funny thing. Why would I not?
It's started off well enough. I want to write a hard-hitting, direct proposal. One that says: these scholars have said this. They are wrong. They are wrong because they did not consider this. It is alright, it's not their expertise. But this, this, this... look here. Consider this. You see, it's not as simple as they all supposed, as you might have supposed. Yes, I'm writing simply, because the things that have been overlooked are all right there in our faces everyday. And yet, so far so many have missed them. But, here, read this. It's intimated here. This scholar has asked these questions. Here's another. But not from our standpoint. So, here's what I'm going to do... this, and this. Yes, it doesn't sound like what's been done before. It's not the same approach. But don't you think it's worthy of being looked at? And here are my credibles for doing this work.
So, I write. It's funny how I sit for so long, contemplating what to say, then when I start to write... I'm afraid. I'm scared by how quickly the thoughts flow. So, back to it, then.
* Edited to clarify: I meant, do I have the courage to write a proposal that is truly my own, one that reflects what I really wish to do, not simply one that I think will sell?
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Knowing your audience
Yesterday, one of the things I did accomplish in working on my NEH grant proposal was writing to them with a couple questions. Here's the one that concerns me at the moment:
Hearing that I must choose a single field for the panel's makeup puts a whole new spin on the enterprise. It reduces my confidence level a notch, since I've had little success lately in getting scholars in my own field to pay my work much heed. Oh no you haven't, you might say, isn't that BIG article of yours, your dissertation distillation about to be published? Well, yes, but it's going to appear in a new journal, focusing on a new sort of approach to the discipline, rather than a traditional old school journal.
Ah, but why should I assume that the [field 1] panel will be made up entirely of close-minded denizens of long-established traditionalism. Well, perhaps they won't. Unfortunately, this appears to be newish territory. Of the [field 1] projects that have been funded by the NEH, all of them appear (on the surface at least) to be much more traditional projects, than what I intend to propose. Let me be clear, it's not that I disrespect those traditionalists. There is nothing wrong with established discipline. It's just not my thing. And, more importantly (if a bit too defensively) there's nothing wrong with new methodologies and approaches either.
The first rule is always know your audience. Sometimes, I'm not so sure I know this one. So, it's a challenge. It's Physics for Surfers or Anthropology for Chemists. That's my immediate task. Now to have at it.
I have a PhD in [field 1], and am currently a Visiting Scholar inFor clarification, the NEH classification that involves field 1 doesn't really describe the sort of work I do, it's a very traditional sort of description for [field 1/subfield 1] and doesn't begin to touch on [field 1/interdisciplinary subfield] which is much closer to my work. I could simply choose [field 2], but that didn't seem right, especially in light of the response:
[field 2]. My proposed project deals with establishing a common
language and methodology for the integrated study of these two fields. Is there any reason not to list the field as "Interdisciplinary"?
Dear Dr. [YouKnowWho]:Aye, so there's the rub. Indeed, I would like to think that field 1ers are sympathetic to my work. But, so far none of them this year have deigned so much as to shortlist me for a faculty post. Does this reply mean that the panels for reviewing NEH grant proposals are not interdisciplinary? That's unexpected. I've applied for numerous grants, and have received several. My understanding to this point is that the committees were all made up of a variety of disciplinarians.
Yes, there is a reason to refrain from using the "interdisciplinary" category. It doesn't help us to assign your application to a panel. We don't have any interdisciplinary panels. We do have panels in subject areas. There is always a [field1] panel. We usually do not have enough applications for a [field 2] panel, so [field 2] is grouped with [generic, only slightly related to field 2 discipline]. You should put down the field in which you would like to have your application evaluated. Probably [field 1] is the right choice, if you think that [field 1ers] would be sympathetic to your project.
Hearing that I must choose a single field for the panel's makeup puts a whole new spin on the enterprise. It reduces my confidence level a notch, since I've had little success lately in getting scholars in my own field to pay my work much heed. Oh no you haven't, you might say, isn't that BIG article of yours, your dissertation distillation about to be published? Well, yes, but it's going to appear in a new journal, focusing on a new sort of approach to the discipline, rather than a traditional old school journal.
Ah, but why should I assume that the [field 1] panel will be made up entirely of close-minded denizens of long-established traditionalism. Well, perhaps they won't. Unfortunately, this appears to be newish territory. Of the [field 1] projects that have been funded by the NEH, all of them appear (on the surface at least) to be much more traditional projects, than what I intend to propose. Let me be clear, it's not that I disrespect those traditionalists. There is nothing wrong with established discipline. It's just not my thing. And, more importantly (if a bit too defensively) there's nothing wrong with new methodologies and approaches either.
The first rule is always know your audience. Sometimes, I'm not so sure I know this one. So, it's a challenge. It's Physics for Surfers or Anthropology for Chemists. That's my immediate task. Now to have at it.
Monday, April 24, 2006
A modest proposal
Departments should grant the chair of hiring committees at least a partial release from teaching and other duties during the term of their chairship, so that they can dedicate the requisite time to honestly and completely treat their junior colleagues (yes, I mean those of us applying for jobs) with dignity and respect. Each should be treated with the same courtesy and degree of concern that any good professor affords a bewildered and confused freshman, away from home for the first time, and testing their way through the world. We deserve it, every last one of us. If you can't spare one professor for one term, then you simply don't deserve to have one the finest's finest among you.
Is it really too much to ask that a single staffer be asked to compile notes on every application, with genuine and honest feedback, and that one professor take the time at the end of a search to spend 15-20 minutes drafting a brief note to each applicant, commenting on strengths and/or weaknesses, giving encouragement, redirecting to alternate careers, advising?
Let's calculate it out, shall we: 1 applicant receives an offer; 103 receive rejection letters. Okay, 20 min x 103 = 34.33 hours, less than a week's worth of work, full-time. Assuming the staffer is worth their salt, the letters might only take 5-10 minutes each to draft. We're talking about $1000-2000 in salary, less than a week's worth of someone's time. How much does a faculty search cost, in terms of time and energy? A hell of a lot more than that. Isn't it really a question of priorities here?
I've mentioned before that my dissertation chair, Dr. TassePlein, chaired a hiring committee a few years ago at my doctoral institution. He is a fine man, a good professor, a caring (if sometimes aloof) mentor. Following the conclusion of the search, he took the time to write a separate note to each of the applicants. It was a sign of his dignity, and his respect for the work that each of the applicants had accomplished in getting to the point of applying for a faculty post. During the search, there had been hosted lunches for graduate students to meet with the interviewees. Only later did I realize that these lunches were not hosted by the department, but paid for by Dr. TassePlein
A year or so later, he was gone, having taken a position at another school, so his family could finally be together (he had been commuting to our campus for seven years). Another search was opened. Graduate students had to organize our own lunches with the candidates. I wrote to the chair of the department to ask if there might not be any funding to support these lunches (we're talking, what $200 a pop). No, he said, the department couldn't afford to spend money on such things. I wrote back to all the grad students in the department, saying that I would pay for the lunch of anyone who could not afford it. And I meant it. With my wife working as an engineer, and me receiving a decent stipend, we lived much better than most of my colleagues. Graciously, the search committee chair (who, granted probably made about twice what we were pulling in) offered to cover the lunches.
It's all a question of priorities, dignity, respect. It really doesn't take much. But, as the song goes, it takes more than words.
Is it really too much to ask that a single staffer be asked to compile notes on every application, with genuine and honest feedback, and that one professor take the time at the end of a search to spend 15-20 minutes drafting a brief note to each applicant, commenting on strengths and/or weaknesses, giving encouragement, redirecting to alternate careers, advising?
Let's calculate it out, shall we: 1 applicant receives an offer; 103 receive rejection letters. Okay, 20 min x 103 = 34.33 hours, less than a week's worth of work, full-time. Assuming the staffer is worth their salt, the letters might only take 5-10 minutes each to draft. We're talking about $1000-2000 in salary, less than a week's worth of someone's time. How much does a faculty search cost, in terms of time and energy? A hell of a lot more than that. Isn't it really a question of priorities here?
I've mentioned before that my dissertation chair, Dr. TassePlein, chaired a hiring committee a few years ago at my doctoral institution. He is a fine man, a good professor, a caring (if sometimes aloof) mentor. Following the conclusion of the search, he took the time to write a separate note to each of the applicants. It was a sign of his dignity, and his respect for the work that each of the applicants had accomplished in getting to the point of applying for a faculty post. During the search, there had been hosted lunches for graduate students to meet with the interviewees. Only later did I realize that these lunches were not hosted by the department, but paid for by Dr. TassePlein
A year or so later, he was gone, having taken a position at another school, so his family could finally be together (he had been commuting to our campus for seven years). Another search was opened. Graduate students had to organize our own lunches with the candidates. I wrote to the chair of the department to ask if there might not be any funding to support these lunches (we're talking, what $200 a pop). No, he said, the department couldn't afford to spend money on such things. I wrote back to all the grad students in the department, saying that I would pay for the lunch of anyone who could not afford it. And I meant it. With my wife working as an engineer, and me receiving a decent stipend, we lived much better than most of my colleagues. Graciously, the search committee chair (who, granted probably made about twice what we were pulling in) offered to cover the lunches.
It's all a question of priorities, dignity, respect. It really doesn't take much. But, as the song goes, it takes more than words.
Dear search committee
Dear search committee,
Thank you for your consideration in posting an available position in your department. A total of well more than 100 departments have posted notices this year regarding expected vacancies in my field. After careful review of all the postings, which included EEO notices, descriptions of their institutions, listings of possible course and committee assignments, and requests for applicant materials, I have narrowed my applications down to about 50 semifinalists, to which I have painstakingly provided materials according to their individual specifications, some asking for teaching philosophies, or course syllabi, a CV, graduate -- some even undergraduate -- transcripts, student evaluations, writing samples or representative publications. Each application has taken me from one hour to several days to prepare.
Following careful deliberation with my wife and family, consultations with numerous colleagues and advisors, I have been so far unable to find an institution worthy of my further consideration. I would like to emphasize that the quality of schools represented has been diverse, but mostly holding to very high standards, each with their own inherent worth, and that the failure to hire me implies no reduction of those qualities. Please be advised that I expect to reopen the search in the coming year (pending budgetary approval), and encourage you to repost a revised position, if you wish to be considered for my application. I congratulate you on your having found a new colleague to serve at your institution this year, and wish you all the best for the future.
Thank you for your consideration in posting an available position in your department. A total of well more than 100 departments have posted notices this year regarding expected vacancies in my field. After careful review of all the postings, which included EEO notices, descriptions of their institutions, listings of possible course and committee assignments, and requests for applicant materials, I have narrowed my applications down to about 50 semifinalists, to which I have painstakingly provided materials according to their individual specifications, some asking for teaching philosophies, or course syllabi, a CV, graduate -- some even undergraduate -- transcripts, student evaluations, writing samples or representative publications. Each application has taken me from one hour to several days to prepare.
Following careful deliberation with my wife and family, consultations with numerous colleagues and advisors, I have been so far unable to find an institution worthy of my further consideration. I would like to emphasize that the quality of schools represented has been diverse, but mostly holding to very high standards, each with their own inherent worth, and that the failure to hire me implies no reduction of those qualities. Please be advised that I expect to reopen the search in the coming year (pending budgetary approval), and encourage you to repost a revised position, if you wish to be considered for my application. I congratulate you on your having found a new colleague to serve at your institution this year, and wish you all the best for the future.
Dear applicant
April 17, 2006
Dear applicant [1],
Thank you for your interest in the [Small Liberal Arts College] [subfield] position. A total of 104 applicants submitted files for the [subfield] position vacancy. After extensive review of files, which included CVs, supporting materials, and three references [2], the committee narrowed the pool to 11 semifinalists. Semifinalists were requested to send in samples of course syllabi and scholarly writing, as well as additional supporting materials on teaching and scholarship. [3] Three finalists were invited for on-campus interviews. [4]
After careful deliberations, the committee selected Dr. ____________, formerly Assistant Professor of [subfield] at [Big State School, Flagship], who has accepted our offer. [5] We would like to emphasize that the quality of our candidate pool was very high, [6] and many individuals gained our attention and respect. [7] We congratulate you on your career accomplishments to date, [8] and wish you the best for the future.
[1] That's a fine start! It shows the high level of respect afforded to us nameless, faceless hordes.
[2] Thanks for reminding me. I've applied for so many positions, I had forgotten the specifics of your requests. It's important to know, so, say, I can calculate out exactly how much the postage must have cost me to mail the materials.
[3] This sounds like the kind of listing you would present to distraught parents who can't understand why their freshman, who "got straight A's" in high school could possibly have received a "C" in your class. "Well, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, these were the course requirements, which every student needed to abide by, and I'm sorry to say, your child didn't deliver. 11 of my students received an A, 14 received a B, and your child was among the 16 receiving a C."
[4] My, how unusual. Three, did you say? [I feel like being Owl, for a moment]. You know, my cousin's best friend once said that he had interviewed on a campus where they invited 5. Can you believe it, five! And you know, it was just...
[5] Oh, how exciting for you! What's the ring look like? Ooooh, I'm gonna cry.
[6] No shit! We all have PhDs, don't we? I mean, at least the majority of us didn't just buy them at Wal-Mart.
[7] Like the ones we took the extra 15 seconds to address by name... but you, my friend, were not among them. So, naaah!
[8] Whatever the hell they may be. Really, we only skimmed the materials you sent us. Honest, we've got student papers to read, and tests to grade. We can't be bothered to actually give a damn about you, that's why we prefer to address you all in aggregate, rather than actually giving you the attention and respect that we pretend to have.
In need of inspiration
I've spent most of today avoiding working on my NEH proposal. I need some of the drive and inspiration that led What Now? to go in about two weeks from should I even apply to hot dang, I've done it. I've been thinking about this application for the same length of time (since the end of February), but I've done little to make it a reality. I'm closer... but my approach to grant applications looks more like What Now?'s cleaning fantasies than anything else.
Then again, I do get things done, eventually. I just mull, and muse, cogitate, masticate, and ruminate, ... then bam, I spit out the cud, and there's the finished application. (I just couldn't resist giving Prof. Me another disgusting image to contemplate, sorry).
The problem is... I'm just grazing today. And getting nothing done. I made a to-do list, and I was checking things off. I submitted an abstract for the Scotland conference on Friday. I've got this Berkeley paper to prepare, then my host department colloquium talk.
Oh yeah... and I've been avoiding writing to the hiring committee chair at LVU. I really think it's something I ought to do. I might get some good feedback (or silence, which is nothing I haven't dealt with before). And, I need to decide whether to apply for the open lectureship, which I simply can't decide. Deadline is May 1, the same day as the NEH deadline. I'm still planning to apply for [Tough Commute U.], deadline: May 15.
There are ten items on my to do list, prioritized by deadline. None of them are expendable, so priority by importance is irrelevant. The first two are done. The third is simply a matter of putting something in the mail tonight. The fourth is the NEH grant. Need to get back to work. Okay, a quick lunch, then I have about three more hours to get cracking before The Rocket Scientist comes to take me home.
Then again, I do get things done, eventually. I just mull, and muse, cogitate, masticate, and ruminate, ... then bam, I spit out the cud, and there's the finished application. (I just couldn't resist giving Prof. Me another disgusting image to contemplate, sorry).
The problem is... I'm just grazing today. And getting nothing done. I made a to-do list, and I was checking things off. I submitted an abstract for the Scotland conference on Friday. I've got this Berkeley paper to prepare, then my host department colloquium talk.
Oh yeah... and I've been avoiding writing to the hiring committee chair at LVU. I really think it's something I ought to do. I might get some good feedback (or silence, which is nothing I haven't dealt with before). And, I need to decide whether to apply for the open lectureship, which I simply can't decide. Deadline is May 1, the same day as the NEH deadline. I'm still planning to apply for [Tough Commute U.], deadline: May 15.
There are ten items on my to do list, prioritized by deadline. None of them are expendable, so priority by importance is irrelevant. The first two are done. The third is simply a matter of putting something in the mail tonight. The fourth is the NEH grant. Need to get back to work. Okay, a quick lunch, then I have about three more hours to get cracking before The Rocket Scientist comes to take me home.
Political philosophy quiz
Warning: Political opinions follow.
Saw this on Ahistoricality. I took the quiz twice. Below is the second result, but they were fairly consistent across trials.
Interesting. I have nearly always considered myself an independent, that is, until the last presidential election. I was, and continue to be, so disgusted with George Bush and company, and all that they represent, in destroying our country, in destroying our standing in the world, in destroying the mutual respect of others that is a hallmark of what America has and can be. I contributed twice, rather hefty sums to the Democratic National Committee, and proudly displayed stickers and signs in support of Kerry/Edwards. The stickers remain on my vehicles. I won't take them off, until those other idiots are out of leadership in my country!
I am embarassed for the things we have done. I am ashamed to talk with my Croatian friends, for our misuse of their territory to transport torture victims. I feel deeply distraught over our hypocrisy, especially in light of the (undoubtably deserved) war crimes trial of now-deceased Slobodan Milosevic. I'd love to see some of our own perpetrators stand trial at the Hague. I won't prejudge their fates. That's what trials are for. But I would not weep (in sadness at least) to see Donald Rumsfeld in the dock, arguing before a world court that degrading and humiliating treatment, beatings, torture, and murder, the unnecessary death of thousands, tens of thousands, likely more than a hundred thousand people (discussion), is somehow justified. Yes, it is less than what has been done in Darfur, less than what happened in Cambodia, less than Rwanda, less than Nazi Germany. But unjust, inexcusable, and indefensible nonetheless.
My favorite TV show (in fact the only new show that I even watch regularly, is ABC's Commander in Chief which is FINALLY back on the air, after about a three month hiatus. I like the character of Mackenzie Allen (played by Geena Davis), the fiery, idealistic, and driven independent president. I think the show makes some strong political statements about many of the failings of the current administration, without excusing the limitations of the opposition. Maybe it is time for a shakeup of the decrepit two-party system we have, IFF we can ensure that the neo-cons go down, for a very very very long time!
Saw this on Ahistoricality. I took the quiz twice. Below is the second result, but they were fairly consistent across trials.
Interesting. I have nearly always considered myself an independent, that is, until the last presidential election. I was, and continue to be, so disgusted with George Bush and company, and all that they represent, in destroying our country, in destroying our standing in the world, in destroying the mutual respect of others that is a hallmark of what America has and can be. I contributed twice, rather hefty sums to the Democratic National Committee, and proudly displayed stickers and signs in support of Kerry/Edwards. The stickers remain on my vehicles. I won't take them off, until those other idiots are out of leadership in my country!
I am embarassed for the things we have done. I am ashamed to talk with my Croatian friends, for our misuse of their territory to transport torture victims. I feel deeply distraught over our hypocrisy, especially in light of the (undoubtably deserved) war crimes trial of now-deceased Slobodan Milosevic. I'd love to see some of our own perpetrators stand trial at the Hague. I won't prejudge their fates. That's what trials are for. But I would not weep (in sadness at least) to see Donald Rumsfeld in the dock, arguing before a world court that degrading and humiliating treatment, beatings, torture, and murder, the unnecessary death of thousands, tens of thousands, likely more than a hundred thousand people (discussion), is somehow justified. Yes, it is less than what has been done in Darfur, less than what happened in Cambodia, less than Rwanda, less than Nazi Germany. But unjust, inexcusable, and indefensible nonetheless.
My favorite TV show (in fact the only new show that I even watch regularly, is ABC's Commander in Chief which is FINALLY back on the air, after about a three month hiatus. I like the character of Mackenzie Allen (played by Geena Davis), the fiery, idealistic, and driven independent president. I think the show makes some strong political statements about many of the failings of the current administration, without excusing the limitations of the opposition. Maybe it is time for a shakeup of the decrepit two-party system we have, IFF we can ensure that the neo-cons go down, for a very very very long time!
You scored as New Democrat. New Democrats emphasize fiscal conservatism, and have a strong preference for the free market. They believe in small-scale programs that provide targetted help to those in need, while working with the business community.
What's Your Political Philosophy? created with QuizFarm.com |
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Internal candidate
Hmmm. My curiosity was piqued the other day regarding the filling of the post at LVU. The name of the successful candidate was already listed on the departmental website as a lecturer. But, since said candidate has already filed the dissertation, it couldn't be a matter of an ABD. My curiosity finally got to me, so I did a quick search on the university website, and discovered that yes indeed, said candidate has been teaching classes there for a couple terms already. Internal candidate!
And now they have a lectureship opened up. Is it worth applying yet a fifth time to the same school? Well, if internal candidacies really result in "conversions" to tenure-track posts, damn right. On the other hand, from what my informant told me, they aren't necessarily looking for someone with my brand of interdisciplinarity.
The frustrating thing is that there aren't any hard and fast rules. There's so little to latch onto, like a rock climber on a sheer face. If I apply, it may result in nothing. If I don't apply, it surely will. On the one hand, if they're really interested in more traditional [subfield 1'ers] then I'm out. But, maybe they just filled their quota of traditionalists, and they want to branch out a bit. Who knows! This is just so frustrating, going around in circles.
I think I'll email the prof who chaired the last search committee. I know him. He's friendly with my dissertation chair. He was a visiting prof in my doctoral department a few years ago. I'll just ask him for some feedback on my application. I figure, if he's offended by my asking, then I won't really have burnt any bridges. Rather, I'll simply discover that the bridge was never there.
And now they have a lectureship opened up. Is it worth applying yet a fifth time to the same school? Well, if internal candidacies really result in "conversions" to tenure-track posts, damn right. On the other hand, from what my informant told me, they aren't necessarily looking for someone with my brand of interdisciplinarity.
The frustrating thing is that there aren't any hard and fast rules. There's so little to latch onto, like a rock climber on a sheer face. If I apply, it may result in nothing. If I don't apply, it surely will. On the one hand, if they're really interested in more traditional [subfield 1'ers] then I'm out. But, maybe they just filled their quota of traditionalists, and they want to branch out a bit. Who knows! This is just so frustrating, going around in circles.
I think I'll email the prof who chaired the last search committee. I know him. He's friendly with my dissertation chair. He was a visiting prof in my doctoral department a few years ago. I'll just ask him for some feedback on my application. I figure, if he's offended by my asking, then I won't really have burnt any bridges. Rather, I'll simply discover that the bridge was never there.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Avoiding the party
Here I sit in the computer room of a friend's*, with The Painter next to me, watching Monsters, Inc. on another computer. It's a housewarming party. And I have nothing to say to anyone. It's sad that I have so much trouble being happy for anyone these days. I'm constantly comparing their circumstances to my own, and feeling the worse for it.
Mutual friends or relatives ask me, "so, what are you up to these days." It's embarassing. What do I say? I tell them the truth, then slink away as quickly as I can.
Well, that's about all for now.
* This is one of those times that I really wish to coin a word. I've lamented this absence for years. What do you call a couple, who both happen to be friends. "A couple friends" doesn't work, since it doesn't connote their relationship to each other, simply that they are both friends of mine. "A couple who happen to be friends of mine" is exceedingly awkward. So, what do you say? "This couplefriend of mine" Yech!
Mutual friends or relatives ask me, "so, what are you up to these days." It's embarassing. What do I say? I tell them the truth, then slink away as quickly as I can.
Well, that's about all for now.
* This is one of those times that I really wish to coin a word. I've lamented this absence for years. What do you call a couple, who both happen to be friends. "A couple friends" doesn't work, since it doesn't connote their relationship to each other, simply that they are both friends of mine. "A couple who happen to be friends of mine" is exceedingly awkward. So, what do you say? "This couplefriend of mine" Yech!
Friday, April 21, 2006
Circumstances being what they are
I'm slowly catching up on things, including my Bloglines feeds. ABDMom is stressing under the weight of life, wondering if she's taken the right job. I know it will all work out for her, but there are choppy waters ahead. It reminds me that circumstances are not always what they appear, and that in the best of them, our ability to focus on the good rather than the bad is our sole recourse. (Easier said than done, I know).
It's a lot like parenting: it's much easier for us to notice the misbehavior, but we have to work at "catching them being good". Life throws us all a few curve balls. Sometimes we need to vent. Let's hope the vents lead outside!
Yesterday, I noticed a new posting for a lecturer in my [Field/Subfield 1] at [Lake View University]. LVU would in some ways be a dream job for me, in particular because they are one of a very few schools that has an established program in [interdisciplinary subfield]. If I apply, this will be my fifth application to that school (once for grad school; twice while I was still writing the dissertation; once already this season). I was surprised about the posting, since I applied for a tenure-track job there last November, and hadn't heard anything regarding it's conclusion. Did the search deadlock, and this is an interim fill? Was the funding pulled?
I've attended two conferences on their campus: one for the [Society for Innovative Interdisciplinarity]; the other a sister international conference. Both were excellent. I have known several of the faculty members for years, including one on the committee who was on a panel I organized for the international conference there.
Once I had ascertained that in fact the search had been successful, I wrote to my contact on the committee, to see if he could give me any feedback on my application, and indirectly whether there is any point in my applying there yet again, for this lectureship.
Here's a bit of our exchange:
So, chin up everyone (including myself). There is yet hope.
It's a lot like parenting: it's much easier for us to notice the misbehavior, but we have to work at "catching them being good". Life throws us all a few curve balls. Sometimes we need to vent. Let's hope the vents lead outside!
Yesterday, I noticed a new posting for a lecturer in my [Field/Subfield 1] at [Lake View University]. LVU would in some ways be a dream job for me, in particular because they are one of a very few schools that has an established program in [interdisciplinary subfield]. If I apply, this will be my fifth application to that school (once for grad school; twice while I was still writing the dissertation; once already this season). I was surprised about the posting, since I applied for a tenure-track job there last November, and hadn't heard anything regarding it's conclusion. Did the search deadlock, and this is an interim fill? Was the funding pulled?
I've attended two conferences on their campus: one for the [Society for Innovative Interdisciplinarity]; the other a sister international conference. Both were excellent. I have known several of the faculty members for years, including one on the committee who was on a panel I organized for the international conference there.
Once I had ascertained that in fact the search had been successful, I wrote to my contact on the committee, to see if he could give me any feedback on my application, and indirectly whether there is any point in my applying there yet again, for this lectureship.
Here's a bit of our exchange:
Oh well, back to the drawing board. What I can say, from my informant's CV, he has taught at 6 schools since receiving the PhD more than 20 years ago. Two of them for five years, and the current post at LVU he has had for more than a decade. I come to understand that he knows from which he speaks, having gone through the drill himself, with "crappy jobs at no-account schools". From that standpoint, even if ABDMom has taken the wrong job, it is a step in the right direction. Even the wrong job can lead to the right one.I noticed the new listing for a lecturer in [subfield 1] at [LVU]. I sent a quick note to [another Colleague of ours who was not on the committee], since I hadn't heard anything regarding the conclusion of the tenure-track search. [Colleague] assures me that it has closed, and the position has been filled.Hi [Articulate],
Sorry you weren't informed. I interviewed here for a job in 1983. Even having interviewed, I was never told the outcome of the search, though after about ten years I began to have suspicions that I was not the first choice.As I continue to pursue a faculty post, I wanted to ask if there is any feedback you might be able to provide me regarding my application. This has been an exceedingly discouraging process for me.I think the process is discouraging for many young scholars. Years of training and great natural gifts, yet fighting to win sometimes crappy jobs at no-account schools...you know what I mean. The [LVU] search was very much for a "straight" [Subfield 1'er] --someone who had potential to be a significant figure in [the subfield], had already published in that area, and had teaching experience in a similar environment. The job announcement may have sounded interdisciplinary, but I believe it really meant interdisciplinary "within [subfield 1]."
So, chin up everyone (including myself). There is yet hope.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
What goes
Took a slow morning. The Rocket Scientist and I went out for a nice early lunch, then meandered to our respective work locations.
My textbook was waiting for me on campus, as I suspected. I have to make up a prioritized list of things to do. The first is an abstract for this Scotland conference. Tomorrow is submittal deadline. I've been working on that this past hour.
I'm quite behind on reading blogs, since I've hardly looked at any this past week. Not sure when I'll catch up. Not at the top of my priority list, though important in its own way. Blogging keeps me sane and connected to people who understand what I'm going through.
Our tax refund has finally worked its way through a big delay. We have a rather hefty tax refund this year, since we had only one income, and that for only half a year, along with quite a few expenses (paying the mortgage on a vacant house, and child care, and moving). For some reason however, it was delayed in processing, because of some red flag. It's finally made it beyond the "error checking" department, and we should be expecting that check within the next month.
That, and the house. I figured it out, and it doesn't look as bad as it had been feeling. In the end (assuming this actually goes through without a hitch) we will have realized just under 6.5% annualized growth for the 8 years we owned the place. In historical terms, that's not so bad. The sad part is that, from what other places have sold for in the past year or so, I am confident that (had we had a better agent from the start) we likely could have gotten $30,000-50,000 more for the place, and sold it last summer, when it first went on market. The under contract price is fully 18% lower than our initial asking price! Youch!
Lesson One I learned from this: don't take advice that says push the price to the upper limit, with the plan to pull back by fits and starts. Price it slightly under the market in the first place, and hope that more than one offer will push it back up. Selling it quickly for $10,000-15,000 less than hoped is far better than selling it later for much less!
Enough of that. I wish it over and done with. Back to real work. I begin to feel connected once again to my career, but still a bit wary of it. I don't have a job yet. I don't have any imminent interviews. The telephone remains silent. Those are not changed immediately by publications and conference presentations. But at least if I'm active, I'm enjoying the work, I'm receiving feedback, and I remain distracted by things I enjoy from things I'd rather not contemplate.
We'll see how things go. It is true that often good things fall in the laps of those who are looking the other way.
My textbook was waiting for me on campus, as I suspected. I have to make up a prioritized list of things to do. The first is an abstract for this Scotland conference. Tomorrow is submittal deadline. I've been working on that this past hour.
I'm quite behind on reading blogs, since I've hardly looked at any this past week. Not sure when I'll catch up. Not at the top of my priority list, though important in its own way. Blogging keeps me sane and connected to people who understand what I'm going through.
Our tax refund has finally worked its way through a big delay. We have a rather hefty tax refund this year, since we had only one income, and that for only half a year, along with quite a few expenses (paying the mortgage on a vacant house, and child care, and moving). For some reason however, it was delayed in processing, because of some red flag. It's finally made it beyond the "error checking" department, and we should be expecting that check within the next month.
That, and the house. I figured it out, and it doesn't look as bad as it had been feeling. In the end (assuming this actually goes through without a hitch) we will have realized just under 6.5% annualized growth for the 8 years we owned the place. In historical terms, that's not so bad. The sad part is that, from what other places have sold for in the past year or so, I am confident that (had we had a better agent from the start) we likely could have gotten $30,000-50,000 more for the place, and sold it last summer, when it first went on market. The under contract price is fully 18% lower than our initial asking price! Youch!
Lesson One I learned from this: don't take advice that says push the price to the upper limit, with the plan to pull back by fits and starts. Price it slightly under the market in the first place, and hope that more than one offer will push it back up. Selling it quickly for $10,000-15,000 less than hoped is far better than selling it later for much less!
Enough of that. I wish it over and done with. Back to real work. I begin to feel connected once again to my career, but still a bit wary of it. I don't have a job yet. I don't have any imminent interviews. The telephone remains silent. Those are not changed immediately by publications and conference presentations. But at least if I'm active, I'm enjoying the work, I'm receiving feedback, and I remain distracted by things I enjoy from things I'd rather not contemplate.
We'll see how things go. It is true that often good things fall in the laps of those who are looking the other way.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Home, tired... some news
We're home, finally. A long, long day. The Painter has decided that he doesn't really like taking three-leg flights, and he'd much prefer just to fly one airplane between two cities. That's his request. I concur.
Got an email that an abstract I sent off a few weeks ago, for a regional conference (local chapter of SOD), has been accepted. So, I'll be presenting at their meeting in Berkeley next month. It's a good way for me to step back into the conference circuit. I've never presented at SOD, so this is also a way for me to test the waters (which is the whole point of these regional shindigs, I suppose).
Then, I have my host department colloquium talk a couple weeks later. Also, received an email with a final call for abstracts for an upcoming conference in Scotland, that would be right up my alley with the work I'm doing at the moment (connected to both what I'll present in Berkeley and to my colloquium talk). A couple people I'd like to rub elbows with are already among the confirmed speakers, so I think I'll draft something up in the next few days.
That and an NEH grant proposal, if I can figure out how to cast my present ideas in a way that might attract their support. I think I can, but their deadline in May 1. We'll see.
Meantime, I also have to finalize my syllabus for this application to [Tough Commute U.]. I suspect the new edition of the textbook will be in my mailbox, awaiting my return to campus. I got an email this week from one of the professors at TCU in the hiring department, in response to a missive I sent him. 1) Yes, there is "considerable interest" in their department for the sort of work I feel most aligned with; and 2) re: whether this is a sabbatical replacement or an anticipated vacancy, the reply was
I'm babbling now. Slap happy from the time zone shifting. Good night.
Got an email that an abstract I sent off a few weeks ago, for a regional conference (local chapter of SOD), has been accepted. So, I'll be presenting at their meeting in Berkeley next month. It's a good way for me to step back into the conference circuit. I've never presented at SOD, so this is also a way for me to test the waters (which is the whole point of these regional shindigs, I suppose).
Then, I have my host department colloquium talk a couple weeks later. Also, received an email with a final call for abstracts for an upcoming conference in Scotland, that would be right up my alley with the work I'm doing at the moment (connected to both what I'll present in Berkeley and to my colloquium talk). A couple people I'd like to rub elbows with are already among the confirmed speakers, so I think I'll draft something up in the next few days.
That and an NEH grant proposal, if I can figure out how to cast my present ideas in a way that might attract their support. I think I can, but their deadline in May 1. We'll see.
Meantime, I also have to finalize my syllabus for this application to [Tough Commute U.]. I suspect the new edition of the textbook will be in my mailbox, awaiting my return to campus. I got an email this week from one of the professors at TCU in the hiring department, in response to a missive I sent him. 1) Yes, there is "considerable interest" in their department for the sort of work I feel most aligned with; and 2) re: whether this is a sabbatical replacement or an anticipated vacancy, the reply was
At the moment this is difficult to answer. We're certainly hoping to make an appointment in the area of [interdisciplinary subfield], but our department has just undergone a comprehensive academic review and we need to await the conclusion of that process before the Provost will release money for appointments. We are hopeful, but that's the best I can offer for now.So, it's still a promising opportunity. It's silly how I expend so much energy on a job even before I've applied. But that's the way it is, especially when the post could potentially turn into something really good, and in consideration of the fact that I have not only the "two body problem" but a "four body problem". I simply don't wish to apply for a job entailing such a logistical nightmare, unless I'd seriously be interested in suffering it. It looks more and more in this case that I would.
I'm babbling now. Slap happy from the time zone shifting. Good night.
Heading home
It's been a week! We accepted a VERY LOW offer on the house. But we won't go hungry. At least it'll be out of our hair, and we can move on.
My dissertation distillation article will be published.
I'm still floundering a bit, looking for direction, meaning, purpose. But I'm latching on to some ideas. The longer I go without any real movement on the job front, the more I feel I should just go off in my own direction. I find it distasteful to accept advice that pushes me toward appearing like the crowd.
If I were to accept it, it would be in a sense accepting defeat. I recall years ago someone I knew who indicated he would do anything to work in his chosen field. And he described the choices he had made. I'm not willing to do that. That is, I don't desperately need to be a professor. What I want is to be able to pursue my interests, to teach a new generation of thinkers, to inspire people with ideas, to ask interesting questions, and follow the paths that those questions initiate. If I can't do that by being a professor, then I just have to figure out how.
It's important to me to remember the difference between what I need and what I want. The more I can recall what I don't in fact need, the more able I will be to turn down something that is less than what I want. Meantime, I sits and waits.
Heading home soon. It was overall a nice visit with my mom. See you on the other side.
My dissertation distillation article will be published.
I'm still floundering a bit, looking for direction, meaning, purpose. But I'm latching on to some ideas. The longer I go without any real movement on the job front, the more I feel I should just go off in my own direction. I find it distasteful to accept advice that pushes me toward appearing like the crowd.
If I were to accept it, it would be in a sense accepting defeat. I recall years ago someone I knew who indicated he would do anything to work in his chosen field. And he described the choices he had made. I'm not willing to do that. That is, I don't desperately need to be a professor. What I want is to be able to pursue my interests, to teach a new generation of thinkers, to inspire people with ideas, to ask interesting questions, and follow the paths that those questions initiate. If I can't do that by being a professor, then I just have to figure out how.
It's important to me to remember the difference between what I need and what I want. The more I can recall what I don't in fact need, the more able I will be to turn down something that is less than what I want. Meantime, I sits and waits.
Heading home soon. It was overall a nice visit with my mom. See you on the other side.
Monday, April 17, 2006
A tickle
Had a wonderful dinner with the wife at Dali's in Cambridge. Tapas and sangria. Expensive, but a little splurge. Grandma (and her boyfriend) watched the boys. We had a nice talk over dinner, and afterwards. I so much want a real fireplace; my mom has one, so we started a nice fire when we got home. We have one of those gas fires in [Paradise]. It's like watching your stovetop... not exactly inspiring or romantic.
I just checked my email, and found the following (re: my dissertation distillation article) in my box:
That's nice. Well, now back to the wife. She's waiting by the fire. :)
I just checked my email, and found the following (re: my dissertation distillation article) in my box:
Dear [Articulate],
I've just received the evaluation on your article and am pleased to let you know that the evaluation was positive. Please accept this email as notification that your article... has been accepted for publication ...With best wishes,
[Name], Editor
That's nice. Well, now back to the wife. She's waiting by the fire. :)
Atlas shrugging
I feel the earth shaking a bit. I wonder. The house may sell, at a price that doesn't exactly make me smile... but sold, and done with is better than the alternative. This should be a relief, in some ways it is... but I'm not quite happy with the results.
I'm miserable, miserable feeling useless. Sitting on the sidelines. I'm tired, very tired of struggling for a job that like selling the house, I'm no longer certain will make me happy to receive.
I got an emailed rejection letter this afternoon. They hired an associate professor from another school. What am I competing against? And toward what end?
This afternoon we went to a party a couple blocks from the Boston Marathon route. We watched bits of it. The first group were wheelchair racers. I heard the cheering and shouting. From a distance I didn't think I'd take part... but watching people struggle, hold in mind a goal, work towards it, I cheered, I applauded, I felt like crying.
Yes, they deserved approbation, so I gave it, freely. Goals. Striving. Where is meaning, purpose? What's the point of this struggle anyway? The PhD... it's done. What's it mean? My mother has a friend who's been an adjunct for what 30 years? Adjunct at top schools too. She says I need to market myself as a [Field 1/subfielder], that I should try to fit in, present myself like the rest of the crowd.
First off, I can't... I won't. I don't blend. It's not in my nature. Does that make me uncollegial? I can't tell. Would it make me untenurable? I don't know. I'm just tired now... very tired.
There's a part of me, one that is growing today, that says, chuck it all.... Maybe I'll talk to some venture capitalists and see if I can get some ideas off the ground. Make me Director of Research & Development, give me a salary, and research funds, and I'll turn it into cash. I don't know how... but I've got ideas. I'm good with ideas. Follow through. That's harder... but not impossible. I did finish the dissertation, my dissertation. And I did it in quick time. Five years. That wasn't too bad.
Well, that's how I'm feeling today. As my grandmother used to say: tell me about it in a week... if you remember. Keep checking. We'll see if I remember.
I'm miserable, miserable feeling useless. Sitting on the sidelines. I'm tired, very tired of struggling for a job that like selling the house, I'm no longer certain will make me happy to receive.
I got an emailed rejection letter this afternoon. They hired an associate professor from another school. What am I competing against? And toward what end?
This afternoon we went to a party a couple blocks from the Boston Marathon route. We watched bits of it. The first group were wheelchair racers. I heard the cheering and shouting. From a distance I didn't think I'd take part... but watching people struggle, hold in mind a goal, work towards it, I cheered, I applauded, I felt like crying.
Yes, they deserved approbation, so I gave it, freely. Goals. Striving. Where is meaning, purpose? What's the point of this struggle anyway? The PhD... it's done. What's it mean? My mother has a friend who's been an adjunct for what 30 years? Adjunct at top schools too. She says I need to market myself as a [Field 1/subfielder], that I should try to fit in, present myself like the rest of the crowd.
First off, I can't... I won't. I don't blend. It's not in my nature. Does that make me uncollegial? I can't tell. Would it make me untenurable? I don't know. I'm just tired now... very tired.
There's a part of me, one that is growing today, that says, chuck it all.... Maybe I'll talk to some venture capitalists and see if I can get some ideas off the ground. Make me Director of Research & Development, give me a salary, and research funds, and I'll turn it into cash. I don't know how... but I've got ideas. I'm good with ideas. Follow through. That's harder... but not impossible. I did finish the dissertation, my dissertation. And I did it in quick time. Five years. That wasn't too bad.
Well, that's how I'm feeling today. As my grandmother used to say: tell me about it in a week... if you remember. Keep checking. We'll see if I remember.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Brief check-in
I'm at my mom's place in Boston. It was an exhausting yesterday, travelling most of the day. But we had a mostly good day today. A nice Passover dinner with family and friends.
The Painter turned 4 today! It's amazing. Hard to imagine I've been a dad for four years. In some ways that's more important than the PhD, than having an academic career. I'll be a dad all my life now, no matter what I do. But I still feel it's not enough. What sort of life lesson will I be teaching my sons, if I can't succeed in the career that means most to me?
And in other news: We finally got an offer on the house. It comes in about 8% lower than our already ridiculously reduced asking price. But it's a real offer, and it's in writing. Now we can negotiate, and hope to come out with something we're pleased with. But it looks like the house may sell after all, which if it does, will be a great relief.
Oh... and I sketched out another children's story on the plane ride here. My mom says she's too busy to illustrate... but I think I'll move ahead with these ideas anyway. For now, I'll sketch out some primitive illustrations myself, and we'll see. The first is based on my grandfather; the second on my father. If nothing else, this is a cleansing experience for me.
The Painter turned 4 today! It's amazing. Hard to imagine I've been a dad for four years. In some ways that's more important than the PhD, than having an academic career. I'll be a dad all my life now, no matter what I do. But I still feel it's not enough. What sort of life lesson will I be teaching my sons, if I can't succeed in the career that means most to me?
And in other news: We finally got an offer on the house. It comes in about 8% lower than our already ridiculously reduced asking price. But it's a real offer, and it's in writing. Now we can negotiate, and hope to come out with something we're pleased with. But it looks like the house may sell after all, which if it does, will be a great relief.
Oh... and I sketched out another children's story on the plane ride here. My mom says she's too busy to illustrate... but I think I'll move ahead with these ideas anyway. For now, I'll sketch out some primitive illustrations myself, and we'll see. The first is based on my grandfather; the second on my father. If nothing else, this is a cleansing experience for me.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Sign off
Heading out of town tomorrow. Haven't packed yet. Only once did I pack far in advance of a trip. That was in 1996, for my first trip overseas. I was to be gone for 11 weeks, and I was excited! I had everything tightly folded, rolled, and packed in ziploc bags at least a week in advance. That's the one anomaly in my life of packing on the run. I guess for campus visits I might pack a day in advance... but that's about it.
Tonight, I'll grab what I can think of, and toss it in a bag. Tomorrow a.m. I head to campus, where The Painter has gymnastics class. I'll take both boys, drop off #1 in class, walk across campus with The Inventor, to check my campus mail box. I hope the textbook will arrive in campus mail tomorrow. But, in any case, I'll show off my beautiful boy to my colleagues. There are a lot of babies in my host department. It's nice to see. I doubt it's just the field, however. I think it's just the culture of this department.
Then, we head back home, and off to the airport around lunchtime. We'll be in Boston until Wednesday. I suspect I'll have some internet access. But, this is a vacation. So, I'll do my best to just focus on being dad, husband, son, and brother. Those are good roles too. I may be better as a scholar than any of those, but practice is always good.
Tonight, I'll grab what I can think of, and toss it in a bag. Tomorrow a.m. I head to campus, where The Painter has gymnastics class. I'll take both boys, drop off #1 in class, walk across campus with The Inventor, to check my campus mail box. I hope the textbook will arrive in campus mail tomorrow. But, in any case, I'll show off my beautiful boy to my colleagues. There are a lot of babies in my host department. It's nice to see. I doubt it's just the field, however. I think it's just the culture of this department.
Then, we head back home, and off to the airport around lunchtime. We'll be in Boston until Wednesday. I suspect I'll have some internet access. But, this is a vacation. So, I'll do my best to just focus on being dad, husband, son, and brother. Those are good roles too. I may be better as a scholar than any of those, but practice is always good.
My dad's poetry
Oh... and I began a blog-based website (elsewhere) for my dad's poetry a few days ago. (If you're really interested, you can ask me for the URL). I've been trying to type up a few poems every night. Some of them are quite disturbing (but remember, most of what I'm looking at now are from the 1970s). I don't want to edit him just yet. It's a cleansing experience to finally type all these things up.
I've sometimes wondered at our job as scholars, especially those of us whose work involves historical figures in one way or another. We study a lifetime's worth of work, sometimes published in a spare volume or two. The book on the shelf contains the person more so than their grave somewhere. I almost feel like setting a stone on top of collected works, to say, "I've been here. This person was loved, respected, thought about."
Compiling and writing up my father's words is a ritual of containing him, embracing him, far more tangible, more involving than his burial.
I've sometimes wondered at our job as scholars, especially those of us whose work involves historical figures in one way or another. We study a lifetime's worth of work, sometimes published in a spare volume or two. The book on the shelf contains the person more so than their grave somewhere. I almost feel like setting a stone on top of collected works, to say, "I've been here. This person was loved, respected, thought about."
Compiling and writing up my father's words is a ritual of containing him, embracing him, far more tangible, more involving than his burial.
Oh, and by the way (Yesterday, I...)
Yesterday morning I woke up with an idea in my head. Fortunately, it was before the boys awoke. So, I went to my computer, and sketched out the draft of a children's book. Now if I can only convince my mother to illustrate it, we'll be good to go. She was an art teacher long ago, and for the past decade a potter, so it's not so bizarre to ask her.
Busy, busy, distracted
I go out of town tomorrow (for Passover in Boston with family). The Rocket Scientist has had big presentations yesterday and today, as a critical phase in her present program, so she's feeling somewhat relieved that it is all (almost) over.
I've realized there are many things on my plate at the moment (and none of them having to do with the seder). In no particular order:
I've realized there are many things on my plate at the moment (and none of them having to do with the seder). In no particular order:
- Need to write book review for [Field 2] journal sometime in the next month
- Need to submit grant proposals for my longitudinal study (first deadline May 1)
- Need to prepare my host department colloquium talk (May 18)
- Need to complete my current project.
- Received a call for papers for a [Field 1] journal which is planning a special issue for which this project would be ideal. Need to write up article on that aspect of the project.
- Probably will be able to write up an expanded article more fully involving the other aspects of the project as well.
- Need to finalize syllabus and submit application for one-year gig at [Tough Commute U.] (I'm still waiting on the latest edition of the textbook... hopefully it will arrive tomorrow a.m. before I head out of town). Deadline for reciept of materials: May 15.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Calm as a breeze
In honor of B*'s comment to my earlier post today and Prof. Me's stomach churning, here's a poem of mine from way back when.
Calm as a Breeze (5/28/92)
I am calm now,
gentle as a breeze that is hardly felt,
who wafts silent odors of budding roses
and rosemary leaves from a distance of miles.
Now I am that breeze,
and my song is that of tiny birds,
together in a nest,
waiting, almost patiently, for worms;
but not worms of pain and sorrow,
worms of satisfaction,
worms of delight, delicacies;
for tiny birds, as children,
who sing a song of their own choosing,
can find delicacies and beauty in all things.
Calm as a Breeze (5/28/92)
I am calm now,
gentle as a breeze that is hardly felt,
who wafts silent odors of budding roses
and rosemary leaves from a distance of miles.
Now I am that breeze,
and my song is that of tiny birds,
together in a nest,
waiting, almost patiently, for worms;
but not worms of pain and sorrow,
worms of satisfaction,
worms of delight, delicacies;
for tiny birds, as children,
who sing a song of their own choosing,
can find delicacies and beauty in all things.
A tome all my own
The other day, while stopping by the two-story campus library annex dedicated to my Field 1 and another Field, when I met up with my friend who suggested I simply write to the textbook company to request a desk copy of the latest edition, I was informed (by said friend) that my bound dissertation had just arrived in the library, and could be found on the new books shelf.
I wandered upstairs, which houses the [Field 1] collection, stepped up to the shelf, and gazed with affection at the shelf, where its largest book, about the width of a standard ream of paper, black spine, with engraved letters announcing the title and [MyLastName] placidly lay. I sat a good half hour or so, thumbing through the pages of my book. No, it's not been published by a university press. I probably won't attempt to transform it directly into a real book. I've sent off my dissertation distillation article, and that will probably serve. I'm moving on, though I'm sure I will use pieces of that work in articles and possibly books in the future.
For now, it was simply a moment to gaze, in pride, in awe, in satisfaction. Yes, I actually like my little paper. It was the culmination of years of work. I hope to draw on it for more years than it took to produce. It was the final act in my move toward the PhD. It was something all my own, for which I wrote the conclusion.
I'm thinking about Professor Me's campus love letter. For most of the past 23 years I have measured time in semesters and quarters. The beginning of years has been August or September. June marked a hiatus of sorts (except the several times I took or taught summer classes). The university has been my home since 1983, when I first stepped foot on the campus of the City College of New York, as a freshman.
I laugh when I'm asked to provide all my transcripts, including undergraduate ones. After CCNY, I spent four years saving the world, then enrolled (then dropped, when I couldn't afford the out-of-state fees, since I had just moved to the state) in one course at a community college, while waiting to begin in the fall at [SmallEasternCollege]. After a year, I transferred to [Massive Midwestern University]. That marked my third tour as a freshman.
Four years later, I began a Master's program at [Top Southern Private University]. I mentioned in passing to the dean that I had not in fact graduated, to which I was told I needed to complete my bachelor's degree before the end of the year. So, I enrolled in an independent study course, wrote the term paper, and transferred the credits back to receive my undergraduate degree, with about 50% more credits than I really needed.
Two and a half years later, I received a Master's degree, then moved to [High City] to live with my soon-to-be wife. I performed, did odd jobs, and finally taught 6 terms at [Bomb Shelter Community College]. Then, ultimately, I returned to study for the PhD at [The University of Paradise]. Each school has bittersweet memories for me, some good, some bad.
Mostly, however, the university, the academy, is my home, my life, my love. I can't imagine life without a campus. But with such varied experience, I don't fear to find affection for wherever I wind up. They are to me like a box of crayons, a collection of hues and colors, each to be handled in turn.
I wandered upstairs, which houses the [Field 1] collection, stepped up to the shelf, and gazed with affection at the shelf, where its largest book, about the width of a standard ream of paper, black spine, with engraved letters announcing the title and [MyLastName] placidly lay. I sat a good half hour or so, thumbing through the pages of my book. No, it's not been published by a university press. I probably won't attempt to transform it directly into a real book. I've sent off my dissertation distillation article, and that will probably serve. I'm moving on, though I'm sure I will use pieces of that work in articles and possibly books in the future.
For now, it was simply a moment to gaze, in pride, in awe, in satisfaction. Yes, I actually like my little paper. It was the culmination of years of work. I hope to draw on it for more years than it took to produce. It was the final act in my move toward the PhD. It was something all my own, for which I wrote the conclusion.
I'm thinking about Professor Me's campus love letter. For most of the past 23 years I have measured time in semesters and quarters. The beginning of years has been August or September. June marked a hiatus of sorts (except the several times I took or taught summer classes). The university has been my home since 1983, when I first stepped foot on the campus of the City College of New York, as a freshman.
I laugh when I'm asked to provide all my transcripts, including undergraduate ones. After CCNY, I spent four years saving the world, then enrolled (then dropped, when I couldn't afford the out-of-state fees, since I had just moved to the state) in one course at a community college, while waiting to begin in the fall at [SmallEasternCollege]. After a year, I transferred to [Massive Midwestern University]. That marked my third tour as a freshman.
Four years later, I began a Master's program at [Top Southern Private University]. I mentioned in passing to the dean that I had not in fact graduated, to which I was told I needed to complete my bachelor's degree before the end of the year. So, I enrolled in an independent study course, wrote the term paper, and transferred the credits back to receive my undergraduate degree, with about 50% more credits than I really needed.
Two and a half years later, I received a Master's degree, then moved to [High City] to live with my soon-to-be wife. I performed, did odd jobs, and finally taught 6 terms at [Bomb Shelter Community College]. Then, ultimately, I returned to study for the PhD at [The University of Paradise]. Each school has bittersweet memories for me, some good, some bad.
Mostly, however, the university, the academy, is my home, my life, my love. I can't imagine life without a campus. But with such varied experience, I don't fear to find affection for wherever I wind up. They are to me like a box of crayons, a collection of hues and colors, each to be handled in turn.
Monday, April 10, 2006
They keep coming
Saturday brought an oddly worded rejection letter from one of my lower ranked opportunities. It was both gracious and affronting. Here are some bits:
** Get on with it already. I don't care how much effort you put into it. It's not like it doesn't take time to write FIFTY application letters!
*** Not best fit, or best according to these specific criteria, mind you. Just the best.
[SIGH]
Today, brought a rather more interesting one, from one of my more more highly prized postings:
Then, the letter closes:
** See what I mean?
*** Okay, this could be seen as a bit condescending... but then, hey, I'll take it in stride.
Interesting. From the comments I've gotten in the past, that committees often draft different letters for different stages in the search, I'll take this as genuine sentiment. Of course, I realize that I was not among the top three or four who were invited to campus. But, it was a thoughtful letter. As disappointing as they all are. But thoughtful nonetheless.
So, that was the latest.
Dear Dr. __________A paragraph follows here that outlines the boring details of what went on during campus visits, and the difficulties involved in their final decision, ... as if it matters to me. Then he closes with:
... Let me thank you personally for your interest in this position. The competition was enormous*, since so many of our applicants had such outstanding credentials. After long study of the numerous applications by our search committee**, we selected the three applicants we agreed were best***.
Again, many thanks for your interest in our program. Good luck in your continuing search for a teaching position. You should have little trouble, since your credentials are so excellent.* This is actually quite funny, since the chair of the committee had earlier informed me via email that they had a mere 45 applicants for the post, which is measly in terms of most postings.
** Get on with it already. I don't care how much effort you put into it. It's not like it doesn't take time to write FIFTY application letters!
*** Not best fit, or best according to these specific criteria, mind you. Just the best.
[SIGH]
Today, brought a rather more interesting one, from one of my more more highly prized postings:
Dear Colleague*:A paragraph (in fact the longest in the letter) follows describing the successful candidate's dissertation, and area of research specialization, and how it will expand existing areas, and forge new interdisciplinary avenues at their institution. I must admit, it's nice that they are that enthusiastic about the person they hired.
Thank you for your interest in joining our department and for providing us with the information and references requested in our announcement for two faculty positions.
While we received nearly two hundred applications**, we reviewed your materials carefully. We were impressed with the overall quality of the work being done in [Field1] research, and of the opportunities for younger members of the discipline to engage in scholarly exchange with other colleagues through conferences and publications***.
We are pleased to announce the appointment of ____ ____ to our position in [Subdiscipline].
Then, the letter closes:
The search for the other position has been continued. We hope you will consider reapplying when we distribute a revised position announcement next year.* That's a nice start.
With appreciation,
[SearchCommitteeChair]
** See what I mean?
*** Okay, this could be seen as a bit condescending... but then, hey, I'll take it in stride.
Interesting. From the comments I've gotten in the past, that committees often draft different letters for different stages in the search, I'll take this as genuine sentiment. Of course, I realize that I was not among the top three or four who were invited to campus. But, it was a thoughtful letter. As disappointing as they all are. But thoughtful nonetheless.
So, that was the latest.
Short day
I have to take The Inventor to his checkup this afternoon, cutting my day in half.
I attended lecture for this class I'm auditing. It's a cross-listed course, so three days a week, there is an undergraduate lecture, with an extra section set aside for graduate students (and me). It's actually quite exhilirating to be back in the classroom. At one point, I felt obliged to add a rather lengthy comment to the discussion, since it was veering in the direction of my own expertise. It was so nice to see the eye-open students nodding in recognition that these ideas were meaningful, meaty, interesting. The professor then felt inclined to introduce me to the class as one specializing in that area.
And the mind juices were flowing. I had to continue the discussion with the graduate students and professor on the way back to the department, adding things that I hadn't said in lecture. I spent much of the morning adding to my research website. I came up with several ideas for future projects that further bridge the gap between my two principal fields, and draw on a third. This is what I'm all about. I live for synthesizing ideas from seemingly disparate fields, drawing them together, and seeing it as organic and inevitable.
Now I've got about an hour left of productive time, so I best get to it.
I attended lecture for this class I'm auditing. It's a cross-listed course, so three days a week, there is an undergraduate lecture, with an extra section set aside for graduate students (and me). It's actually quite exhilirating to be back in the classroom. At one point, I felt obliged to add a rather lengthy comment to the discussion, since it was veering in the direction of my own expertise. It was so nice to see the eye-open students nodding in recognition that these ideas were meaningful, meaty, interesting. The professor then felt inclined to introduce me to the class as one specializing in that area.
And the mind juices were flowing. I had to continue the discussion with the graduate students and professor on the way back to the department, adding things that I hadn't said in lecture. I spent much of the morning adding to my research website. I came up with several ideas for future projects that further bridge the gap between my two principal fields, and draw on a third. This is what I'm all about. I live for synthesizing ideas from seemingly disparate fields, drawing them together, and seeing it as organic and inevitable.
Now I've got about an hour left of productive time, so I best get to it.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Close only counts...
Looking up an old email, I came across the following note from my advisor after my one campus interview last year. As they say, close only counts in horeshoes and hand-grenades. But at least it's good to remember I was close.
-----Original Message-----
From: Dr. TassePlein
Sent: Wednesday, December 08, 2004 10:47 AM
Subject: Re: FW: interview at [South-North University]
Dear _________:
I've just had a LONG conversation with [SearchCommittee Chair]. Obviously they liked you very much, and you are very much in the running for the position. Just a heads up: [SCC] mentioned to me that he thought that your answers tended to go on "about 50% longer than necessary." I told them that this was a sign of your enthusiasm, and perhaps the excitement of the interview, natural under the circumstances. The ONLY reason I'm telling you this should be clear: if they call back again because they can't decide, or because they want one last go round, you might keep it in mind. Since I, ahem, referred to you as a "visionary," he wanted to make sure that this didn't mean that you were a loose cannon. I assured him that you were the essence of a team player, and that what you liked best was working with interesting and imaginative groups of people. He also seemed puzzled by why you would ask about accelerating tenure. So I'd watch that kind of stuff too if you speak to them again.
Let me close this note by congratulating you on what sounds like a *splendid* interview. They really like you enormously, found you infectiously exciting, etc. and could very well end up making you an offer (apparently they have one more interviewee). But please, if it somehow doesn't work out, don't take it hard. It's a *marvelous* first dip into the market, and you've done a brilliant job.
Yrs,
____________
Some words for a job candidate
These words come from Goldsmith, Komlos, and Gold, The Chicago Guide to Your Academic Career, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001.
How long should I keep my hopes up?
John Komlos: I would consider two cycles to be appropriate, provided you really put your best foot forward. I mean by that that your dissertation was in hand and you applied to a wide array of institutions and did not limit yourself geographically or any other way. ...
Penny Gold: It's difficult to tell someone else, I think, how long to persist in looking. I don't know that I would have had the stamina to last through more than three hiring seasons myself. But one of my colleagues ... had been on the job market seven years ... before the tenure-track job... From my perspective, it is difficult to imagine how she could not have been hired earlier, as her credentials were stellar and she's a nice person to boot. But she's in a very competitive field, and an oversupplied subfield within that field.
How long should I keep my hopes up?
John Komlos: I would consider two cycles to be appropriate, provided you really put your best foot forward. I mean by that that your dissertation was in hand and you applied to a wide array of institutions and did not limit yourself geographically or any other way. ...
Penny Gold: It's difficult to tell someone else, I think, how long to persist in looking. I don't know that I would have had the stamina to last through more than three hiring seasons myself. But one of my colleagues ... had been on the job market seven years ... before the tenure-track job... From my perspective, it is difficult to imagine how she could not have been hired earlier, as her credentials were stellar and she's a nice person to boot. But she's in a very competitive field, and an oversupplied subfield within that field.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Just to clarify
Just to clarify matters a bit. I can't imagine my father reading his words, without laughing at his own melodramatic turn. In fact, I can't imagine him having made it through writing them down without gasping at his own imagery. As he well modelled in his own behavior, if we can't laugh at ourselves, there's little point.
Found an old notebook of my father's
Cleaning up a bit this morning, looking for some document to finally complete the paperwork and filings for my father's remaining few leavings, I came across an old notebook of his, hand written, April-May 1970. He was just shy of thirty-five. Today I am thirty-eight. My life is different, I am sure. But I am not quite sure how.
One of these days (perhaps I shouldn't say it that way, it sounds like I'll never do it)... I should find the time and energy to compile his writings, edit them, and write a reminiscence. He was a good man.
Late in life he taught me that our primary choice is whether or not we will be good; history alone decides if we are great. Why would he give me this advice? Because he suffered a contagious malady that lends its patients a drive to accomplish great things.
I will edit his work and write the reminiscence, some day, because he deserves it. Here are the first words that appear in the notebook:
4/15/70
One of these days (perhaps I shouldn't say it that way, it sounds like I'll never do it)... I should find the time and energy to compile his writings, edit them, and write a reminiscence. He was a good man.
Late in life he taught me that our primary choice is whether or not we will be good; history alone decides if we are great. Why would he give me this advice? Because he suffered a contagious malady that lends its patients a drive to accomplish great things.
I will edit his work and write the reminiscence, some day, because he deserves it. Here are the first words that appear in the notebook:
We see each other nowMy father once wrote a poem about looking in the mirror and seeing his father there. I do not see my father's face in the mirror. But I often see myself in his words.
through a patina of days piled one upon another,
less bright, more rich,
like layers of wax that yellow on the floor.
patina of days
like wax that yellows on the floor.
The night is not as young as it used to be.
4/15/70
Sometimes I'm Convinced of My Own Greatness
Sometimes I'm convinced of my own greatness,
Convinced there's a real hard core of greatness in me
and that I'll someday discover the way
to let it burst loose and sprinkle down all over the world
Like silver tinsel on a christmas tree,
Haphazardly tossed,
Accidentally lying there among the green needles,
Brightening things up in incandescent reflection.
and
sometimes i feel inadequate even to piss straight
into the toilet bowl
without dripping a few drops onto the octagonal
black and white tiled floor
even if the bowl filled the whole room
sometimes i feel so inadequate i'm sure i'd find
a way to drip piss someplace it's not supposed to be
no matter what
or get flushed down the enormous bowl
lodge in the pipes
and make the pissy water flood the whole fucking floor
every fucking floor in the whole fucking house.
Empire State Building.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Random bullets
Got some mildly good news today. I guess those three trailing letters are worth something:
- At the urging of a friend, I decided to simply write to the textbook company and request an examination copy of the latest edition. I wrote that I am currently a visiting scholar in a different department from my PhD, but that I anticipate teaching a course in the fall at another school (a bit of wishful thinking, but true), that I need to prepare and submit the syllabus by May 15. The request was cheerfully, and rapidly approved, so I'll be getting a copy of the newest edition in campus mail next week, in order to prepare my syllabus for my application to Tough Commute U. That made me feel a bit better about all this.
- Got word from my current host department, that they have approved my request for an extension to my visiting scholar status for another year (which is my hedge in case nothing comes through for the fall). At least I will retain access to the library and article databases and such. And most importantly, I will retain that shred of university affiliation.
- I sent out inquiries to a couple local schools, along with a cover letter, CV, and selected student evaluations, to see about adjunct teaching opportunities for the summer or fall. I think it's time I get back in front of a classroom again.
- I've realized that part of my difficulty in freely celebrating PhDMe's wonderful news has to do with my own feeling that her self-affirmation "I am this good. I can do this." leaves unspoken the correlary "if you don't have a job yet, you just ain't this good, sorry". She never said that. Those are my words. They are the nagging voice inside my head.
- It harkens back to those feelings I described in January, those fears of becoming smug, if I ever land that elusive tenure track job. I envy those whose paths have been/are easier. It takes nothing away from the quality of their scholarship and teaching. I wonder though, had my path been more smooth. Had I gotten the offer from my campus visit last year, would I have considered myself more deserving than those who didn't?
- I wonder at the sheer number of my friends out here who received multiple campus visits this season. Is it simply the differences between our fields, and the current supply of PhDs? Is it sheer luck? Or am I really lacking something that they have?
- Is it pigheaded arrogance that keeps me believing "I am that good too"? It's impossible to say. What I can say is that I do believe it. I do believe I have much to offer academia, that my research is innovative, interesting, and worthwhile, that it covers territory otherwise underserved, and that I am a good teacher.
- If ever there is truth in our self-delusions: this is my calling. I am meant to be a scholar.
- And so, I persevere. Apologies to PhDMe... I am proud of you, and pleased for you.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Might as well have said: desperation doesn't suit you
Ahhh. First thing, The Rocket Scientist is home. After a couple TV shows for the boys, I had calmed down enough to be good father again, so we played for a little while.
Then the wife came home, and I quickly had a couple shots of home-made strawberry vodka. (It's not entirely homemade, since I use Ketel One. I cut up fresh fruit--strawberries and mangoes are my favorites, fill a pint jar about 1/3 full with fruit, then cover with vodka, leave in the fridge for a week or so, shaking every now and then, then freeze. Yum!). Now I'm feeling much ... serener. Now, make no assumptions, I'm no drunk, though I enjoy a few glasses of wine once or twice a week. But I've learned, a shot or two of vodka has quite a calming effect when needed. And, somehow, it seems less drastic than Xanax! :)
So, on to the latest in my saga of unemployment...
Today's rejection letter at least made me laugh. As my wife put it: they do have a point.
Here's the gist of it:
:) What they didn't write was What were you thinking? Desperation doesn't suit you!
[SIGH] Ah well. Let's hope something comes through for next year. But, I'm trying to keep my wits and humor about me.
Then the wife came home, and I quickly had a couple shots of home-made strawberry vodka. (It's not entirely homemade, since I use Ketel One. I cut up fresh fruit--strawberries and mangoes are my favorites, fill a pint jar about 1/3 full with fruit, then cover with vodka, leave in the fridge for a week or so, shaking every now and then, then freeze. Yum!). Now I'm feeling much ... serener. Now, make no assumptions, I'm no drunk, though I enjoy a few glasses of wine once or twice a week. But I've learned, a shot or two of vodka has quite a calming effect when needed. And, somehow, it seems less drastic than Xanax! :)
So, on to the latest in my saga of unemployment...
Today's rejection letter at least made me laugh. As my wife put it: they do have a point.
Here's the gist of it:
Dear Dr. [YouKnowWho]:
Thank you for your interest and submission of your vita to become a part-time temporary instructor for [Small Midwestern State U.]'s off-campus programs.
At this time, we offer undergaduate programs only in our state, and because of budget constraints it would be unlikely that we would fly an instructor from California. I'm very sorry we will be unable to utilize your expertise.
Should you have any questions regarding this correspondence, please feel free to contact me... Best wishes as you search for teaching opportunities.
:) What they didn't write was What were you thinking? Desperation doesn't suit you!
[SIGH] Ah well. Let's hope something comes through for next year. But, I'm trying to keep my wits and humor about me.
Melt down
You know, I love being a dad... I really do. But... I've come to realize, from experience, that I'm not the best at full-time stay-at-home fathering. About 3:30 or 4:00 I just melt down. Every little nuisance becomes a big deal. Maybe I just haven't worked out the proper routine, the right schedule.
[Ha!... that's a joke. Me? Routine? Schedule? Never heard of 'em.]
I spent about 4 months full-time (about 8:00-6:00) watching both boys last summer. I had been the primary caregiver for The Painter from six weeks until about 11 months (while preparing for my comps!), but they were shorter days, and I got little breaks in the middle most days.
I fully empathize with ABDMom's BH what he's about to go through. Some have patience, energy. Mine... well, mine runs out about 4:00 PM. Ah well.
Today, I copped out, but then it's better than the alternative. I put on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. Now we're watching Little Einstein's. [SIGH!] Hey, an hour of educational TV won't harm them. Thanks at least to our DVR. Days like this I fully justify the cost of having cable, even if I rarely watch.
Besides, #1 won't take naps... basically stopped when he was about 18 months. So, this is his quiet time... yeah, that's it. And it's fun to watch The Inventor repeatedly face dive onto the couch, while his brother is trying to watch.
So, just in case any of you out there are of the illusion that some of us miraculously know how to balance work and life, being productive academics and having a family... well, if there are any out there, I haven't yet met them. But then, what fun is a balance beam if you never fall off, eh?
[Ha!... that's a joke. Me? Routine? Schedule? Never heard of 'em.]
I spent about 4 months full-time (about 8:00-6:00) watching both boys last summer. I had been the primary caregiver for The Painter from six weeks until about 11 months (while preparing for my comps!), but they were shorter days, and I got little breaks in the middle most days.
I fully empathize with ABDMom's BH what he's about to go through. Some have patience, energy. Mine... well, mine runs out about 4:00 PM. Ah well.
Today, I copped out, but then it's better than the alternative. I put on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. Now we're watching Little Einstein's. [SIGH!] Hey, an hour of educational TV won't harm them. Thanks at least to our DVR. Days like this I fully justify the cost of having cable, even if I rarely watch.
Besides, #1 won't take naps... basically stopped when he was about 18 months. So, this is his quiet time... yeah, that's it. And it's fun to watch The Inventor repeatedly face dive onto the couch, while his brother is trying to watch.
So, just in case any of you out there are of the illusion that some of us miraculously know how to balance work and life, being productive academics and having a family... well, if there are any out there, I haven't yet met them. But then, what fun is a balance beam if you never fall off, eh?
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Can't beat that (rejection letter)
They won't give up. Back in September I saw one of those "anticipated vacancy" postings that mentions the department and the barest minimum of expectations. I wrote to the best contact I could find, the Dean to ask for a full job description. He replied, saying that he'd forwarded my inquiry to the department chair.
T'make a long story short: I never applied! After reading the full description, I decided it wasn't for me.
Today's mail brought the following:
Note to self: don't include your mailing address in such inquiries in the future. Who knows what mailing lists you may wind up on.
T'make a long story short: I never applied! After reading the full description, I decided it wasn't for me.
Today's mail brought the following:
Dear [FirstName LastName]:
We are pleased to announce that ____ ____ has accepted the position of Assistant Professor in ____ at [YouDidn'tEvenApplyTo U.] ...Thank you for your interest in the position, and we wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.
Note to self: don't include your mailing address in such inquiries in the future. Who knows what mailing lists you may wind up on.
Can't get me down
I'm feeling pretty good today. I decided to audit a graduate course in my host department. As part of my visiting scholar status, I am welcome to sit in on any class in the department, but this is the first time I'm actually doing it. Monday was the first day of Spring quarter here. It's actually a cross-listed course, so I'll be sitting in on the undergrad lecture twice a week, and meeting in a smaller section with four graduate students once per week. Somehow, sitting in on the class makes me feel more a part of the academic community than I have felt otherwise. Partly it's knowing that I have a great deal to contribute to the discussion. I'm viewing it as a bit of apprentice work, in case I wind up with my ultimate dream of a cross-appointment in [Field1] & [Field2].
The prof (who happens to be chair of my host department) asked us to bring along some suggested readings. I brought a small briefcase full of articles, and tossed four her way. Some I've had in readers for classes I've taught; others are simply on my reading list, but relevant to the subject. At the end of section, she said she'd need to talk to me about another aspect of our discussion today, since it's clear I've done more extensive reading on it than her. Also, she had made the comment that she was pleased how the graduate section turned out (I'm the only post-doc sitting in) because we're all [SecondFielders], which brought a smile to my face. I said it was good to be welcomed in the club.
So, nothing is going to get me down right now. Not the fact that power was out on campus for the undergrad lecture and the grad sectional, and for a few hours after. Not that I stopped by the office of one of my dissertation committee members, to follow up on a request for a letter of recommendation, to which he kindly suggested I have his file letter sent to Tough Commute U., in lieu of him writing a new one. Not the fact that my belt just broke (and since attending military academy 25 years ago I've felt naked without a belt). Nope, none of those things are going to get me down.
I've got another hour or so of working, then it's home for a long weekend of playing dad. The au pair is going out of town this weekend, leaving tomorrow early. I'm going to enjoy just being dad for a couple days, not worrying about anything else. And, I've decided that I'm going to try a modified schedule, working longer days M-Th, and taking the boys all day on Fridays. Just in case I do wind up with a commuting gig for next fall, I might as well get used to it now.
The prof (who happens to be chair of my host department) asked us to bring along some suggested readings. I brought a small briefcase full of articles, and tossed four her way. Some I've had in readers for classes I've taught; others are simply on my reading list, but relevant to the subject. At the end of section, she said she'd need to talk to me about another aspect of our discussion today, since it's clear I've done more extensive reading on it than her. Also, she had made the comment that she was pleased how the graduate section turned out (I'm the only post-doc sitting in) because we're all [SecondFielders], which brought a smile to my face. I said it was good to be welcomed in the club.
So, nothing is going to get me down right now. Not the fact that power was out on campus for the undergrad lecture and the grad sectional, and for a few hours after. Not that I stopped by the office of one of my dissertation committee members, to follow up on a request for a letter of recommendation, to which he kindly suggested I have his file letter sent to Tough Commute U., in lieu of him writing a new one. Not the fact that my belt just broke (and since attending military academy 25 years ago I've felt naked without a belt). Nope, none of those things are going to get me down.
I've got another hour or so of working, then it's home for a long weekend of playing dad. The au pair is going out of town this weekend, leaving tomorrow early. I'm going to enjoy just being dad for a couple days, not worrying about anything else. And, I've decided that I'm going to try a modified schedule, working longer days M-Th, and taking the boys all day on Fridays. Just in case I do wind up with a commuting gig for next fall, I might as well get used to it now.
The Rains Alive
Many years ago, in a different life lived, I had occasion to drive from Los Angeles to Death Valley, thinking it would take only a few spare hours. I was naive and young... and I hadn't counted on the weather gods' wrath. It rained... and rained... it poured sheets of rain. The sky remained an ominous grey the entire trip, 8 hours, 10, 12? I can't recall, but it was a day.
I was engaged then. I must have been about 19. Thankfully we never married. It would have been a mistake. But the two of us drove, in an old beaten up station wagon. We arrived well after dark, to discover that we could save a bundle by driving across the state border to Nevada, and spending the night there.
Those of you paying attention will note: it never rains in Death Valley! Ah... but it does, it does. Only... it rains but once or twice a year in Death Valley. And we got it all in that one day and night. As we all know from recent events, rain can be devastatingly destructive. But it is a purgative and nourishment like nothing else.
Where I live, it has rained nearly every day seemingly for the past two weeks. But, somehow, it is refreshing, rather than depressing. The skies are embracing the earth, kissing the plants and soil beneath, showering all us bipedal mortals.
There is a story about Alexander Hamilton, growing up in the West Indies (was it?). The story relates to why and how he came to America. He was sponsored by wealthy merchants (or bankers?), as I recall, at the behest of his minister. And why? Because of a letter he wrote, containing an essay on the force of nature which he observed in the strength of a storm. Rain can humble us all.
Here is a poem I wrote many years ago, recalling Death Valley from those years before:
The Rains Alive (8/6/91)
I love to walk in torrent rain
and watch the people run.
I love to talk in torrent rain
to myself or anyone.
I love the colors streetlights shine
against the grayish sky,
Where sovereign clouds direct our eyne
to view the heavens fly.
I love to taste the rainy air
and puff a misty sigh.
I love receiving zany stares
from sober passersby.
To me is rain a mirac sight,
mysterious and proud,
The drops that bend unbending light,
the clouds the sun enshroud.
A miracle, presented once,
allowed my thoughts to thrive:
I saw Death Valley rainy once;
I've seen the rains alive!
I was engaged then. I must have been about 19. Thankfully we never married. It would have been a mistake. But the two of us drove, in an old beaten up station wagon. We arrived well after dark, to discover that we could save a bundle by driving across the state border to Nevada, and spending the night there.
Those of you paying attention will note: it never rains in Death Valley! Ah... but it does, it does. Only... it rains but once or twice a year in Death Valley. And we got it all in that one day and night. As we all know from recent events, rain can be devastatingly destructive. But it is a purgative and nourishment like nothing else.
Where I live, it has rained nearly every day seemingly for the past two weeks. But, somehow, it is refreshing, rather than depressing. The skies are embracing the earth, kissing the plants and soil beneath, showering all us bipedal mortals.
There is a story about Alexander Hamilton, growing up in the West Indies (was it?). The story relates to why and how he came to America. He was sponsored by wealthy merchants (or bankers?), as I recall, at the behest of his minister. And why? Because of a letter he wrote, containing an essay on the force of nature which he observed in the strength of a storm. Rain can humble us all.
Here is a poem I wrote many years ago, recalling Death Valley from those years before:
The Rains Alive (8/6/91)
I love to walk in torrent rain
and watch the people run.
I love to talk in torrent rain
to myself or anyone.
I love the colors streetlights shine
against the grayish sky,
Where sovereign clouds direct our eyne
to view the heavens fly.
I love to taste the rainy air
and puff a misty sigh.
I love receiving zany stares
from sober passersby.
To me is rain a mirac sight,
mysterious and proud,
The drops that bend unbending light,
the clouds the sun enshroud.
A miracle, presented once,
allowed my thoughts to thrive:
I saw Death Valley rainy once;
I've seen the rains alive!
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Not much to say today
(Okay, I just know Prof. Me is going to expect this to drag on for six paragraphs... but we'll see.)
Actually, I don't feel like I have much to say here today. I've been working. It's going to be a short week for me, since the au pair is going with friends out of town early Thursday, which means I'm Dr. Dad at home all day on Thursday and Friday, rather than Dr. Me, Visiting Scholar.
I haven't yet submitted my application for Tough Commute U. but I expect to. Full consideration by date is May 15, so there's no rush. The hold up is simply my writing a new syllabus (rather than submitting old ones I've used in the past). One issue I'm dealing with is the edition of the text. I had chosen a particular text (six years ago, when I taught at the community college) and apparently that's the same text they currently use there. However, they're onto the next edition. Does it look bad for me to write up a syllabus with an "out-of-date" edition? I don't really feel like purchasing a copy of the new edition at the moment, since by rights I should get a free teacher's copy, but... Any thoughts would be appreciated.
Otherwise, I've just been working away. My current project is moving along. I want to get through the initial data analysis first, before working on the detailed analyses and comparisons. I'm halfway through the fifth data set right now. I've gotten a pretty good pace on this right now, which feels good. I think there's onlyl one more data set to analyze after this. Then I'll need some input from others regarding the data, to back up my own intuitions; then I can get to the comparative work. Finally, I've got a bit of reading to do in [Field 2], so I can have something intelligent to say about the linkages this data reveals between [Field 1] & [Field 2].
I'm going to work this into conference presentations and an article. If things look really good, I'll work up a grant proposal for a larger project along these lines. I'll also use this work in my host department colloquium talk in about 6 weeks.
So, here's what I have to do:
Actually, I don't feel like I have much to say here today. I've been working. It's going to be a short week for me, since the au pair is going with friends out of town early Thursday, which means I'm Dr. Dad at home all day on Thursday and Friday, rather than Dr. Me, Visiting Scholar.
I haven't yet submitted my application for Tough Commute U. but I expect to. Full consideration by date is May 15, so there's no rush. The hold up is simply my writing a new syllabus (rather than submitting old ones I've used in the past). One issue I'm dealing with is the edition of the text. I had chosen a particular text (six years ago, when I taught at the community college) and apparently that's the same text they currently use there. However, they're onto the next edition. Does it look bad for me to write up a syllabus with an "out-of-date" edition? I don't really feel like purchasing a copy of the new edition at the moment, since by rights I should get a free teacher's copy, but... Any thoughts would be appreciated.
Otherwise, I've just been working away. My current project is moving along. I want to get through the initial data analysis first, before working on the detailed analyses and comparisons. I'm halfway through the fifth data set right now. I've gotten a pretty good pace on this right now, which feels good. I think there's onlyl one more data set to analyze after this. Then I'll need some input from others regarding the data, to back up my own intuitions; then I can get to the comparative work. Finally, I've got a bit of reading to do in [Field 2], so I can have something intelligent to say about the linkages this data reveals between [Field 1] & [Field 2].
I'm going to work this into conference presentations and an article. If things look really good, I'll work up a grant proposal for a larger project along these lines. I'll also use this work in my host department colloquium talk in about 6 weeks.
So, here's what I have to do:
- Finish analysis for this project
- Write up new syllabus, and submit application to Tough Commute U.
- Work up conference talk from this work
- Work up article from this work
- Work on colloquium talk
- Decide on some project for grant apps, and get moving. NEH deadline: May 1
- NIH grant proposal, NSF grant proposal? What are the deadlines? (I told you I was interdisciplinary!)
Monday, April 03, 2006
We are multiple
'Rise like Lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number--
Shake your chains to earth like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you--
Ye are many--they are few.'
---Percy Shelley, The Mask of Anarchy, final verse
I do indeed feel multiple at times. And I recognize the chains. But mostly, I think they're my own.
I'm thrilled for PhDme her latest news. But I can't say I'm not jealous. Indeed I am. I'm jealous of her success, and ProfessorMe's and ABDmom's, and.... but then, I'm not jealous in that I want their lives. Nor am I jealous in the sense that I wish any less upon them. We have all struggled in our way. The PhD is quite an accomplishment (even if it seems some are less than deserving of it).
And, these are my friends, though I've known them only a few months, though I know them mostly only through their blog personae. We have and do share quite a bit, and I celebrate their successes. But, I am jealous in the sense that I wish a bit more professional success for me. Rather, I wish the one success that has been for me most elusive, an offer of a faculty post. I have had other successes, but unfortunately have discounted them. When it comes down to it, (as WhatNow? recently observed while recovering from a bout of jealousy herself) my life is pretty darn good.
Attitude is many things. If I am bitter, nothing will quite satisfy me, even a faculty offer. And, I've come to recall that my wife has never told me that bitterness is one of the reasons she loves me.
No, that's never been among the qualities she lists. That I make her laugh has often topped the tally. She enjoys that I am a fine cook. She is inspired by my ideas, that I get so excited by them. She relishes the moments when my pitch heightens, as I explain some project I want to work on. She enjoys my magic hands that seem to know just when and where she needs a caress or massage.
We are partners. We listen to each other. We are mirrors, reflecting each other's strengths, and fears. So what if I mooch a bit off of her employer's generosity, off of her talents and skills, that just at this moment happen to be far more usable and lucrative than my own?
Come to think of it, I've never heard her say she loves me for being rich, or for the ease with which she always knew I'd land that faculty post. No, she's as much to blame for encouraging me on this path. She's the one who's ever noted that twinkle in my eye as I attempt cross-disciplinary connections that perhaps were never meant to be (but which I will, to my dying day, insist must be made).
For those things, she loves me. And for all her talents, and her smile, and her laugh (that I am adept at raising)... for her magic hands (and the way she and I can crack up together over the most inane disturbance to a romantic moment that ever was), because she is caring, and giving, and loving, and supportive, I love her... for these reasons, we are together (even if she tried to run me over on my bicycle those 12 years ago).
Thanks to all of you who have recently written paeans to your loves and children. I'm with you there. It's good to remember the important things in life. I'm remembering, too.
Must it be a question of hierarchy?
I mentioned a little while ago that last job season I conducted three telephone interviews, each with a very different sort of school and program. Recently, in discussing this opportunity at Tough Commute University with a friend, she asked where that program lies in the rankings. To be honest, there's no way for me to answer that, since my niche is basically unacknowledged so far, because it is inherently interdisciplinary. The best programs have strong departments in each of the areas. Academia is filled with the hierarchies and divisions between types of schools, types of programs.
For the record, as I have written in several recent cover letters: Unabashedly excited by research, I am equally at home teaching survey courses, or lecturing to the general public. Where does that place me in the spectrum? I think for one thing, it means I might not be fully happy at a two-year school. Does that mean I look down on Community Colleges? In a sense that would be like saying a high school teacher has disdain for elementary teachers, or that those in geriatrics think pediatricians are unworthy!
Surely not. They are different. In some ways, the students are different, not always on a slide from worse to better, simply different. I want it understood that I speak not purely out of supposition. I taught as part-time adjunct at a smallish community college for two years, six semesters, summers included, after completing my Master's and before beginning the PhD. My lecture sections were mostly about 30-35 students. Some of the students were there to blow off life, some to seek further opportunities. Some of them I disliked, at least as many I was quite fond of. Some were rich, some poor, some international students, many locals.
It is not them however that leads me to the thought that I'd be unhappy there. I have thought long about where I might like to work. I have gone back and forth, never quite being sure. Do I want graduate students? PhD committee work? How much teaching? What about research opportunities? A four-year school, or a comprehensive, or a "Tier 1 Research" school? If I think back to my applications to doctoral institutions, I applied to four top-tier schools. Each of them well-known enough. One was private, the remaining schools were public. Three in the States, one in Canada.
For me, to a large extent it comes down to the balance between teaching and research. Perhaps I don't need graduate students of my own (within my own subdiscipline). I can always serve on PhD committees as outside reader. The better known I become in my niche, the more likely this will become. With the present experience I am having, I have come to believe there are far too many PhDs in my subdiscipline (even if I, as Mr. Interdisciplinary, only partly self-identify with it). I don't wish to contribute to that overabundance.
I think I could be happy at a comprehensive school, a 4-year liberal arts school, as much as at a doctoral-granting research school, assuming (and here's the key) that I could continue with my research. The gig at Tough Commute U calls for teaching 6 half-year courses. I think that's the limit for me. At my doctoral institution, tenure-track faculty taught mostly 4 courses per year. In my ideal world, a 2+2 or 3+2 teaching load would be just fine.
Why are research and teaching so often discussed as opposing forces, rather than as complementary enterprises. Teaching means I have to understand my work well enough to make it accessible, which strengthens my research, and enriches it by keeping it grounded. My teaching benefits from an active research program, because I continue to be passionately involved in aspects of what I'm teaching, keeping the arguments and materials fresh.
For the record, as I have written in several recent cover letters: Unabashedly excited by research, I am equally at home teaching survey courses, or lecturing to the general public. Where does that place me in the spectrum? I think for one thing, it means I might not be fully happy at a two-year school. Does that mean I look down on Community Colleges? In a sense that would be like saying a high school teacher has disdain for elementary teachers, or that those in geriatrics think pediatricians are unworthy!
Surely not. They are different. In some ways, the students are different, not always on a slide from worse to better, simply different. I want it understood that I speak not purely out of supposition. I taught as part-time adjunct at a smallish community college for two years, six semesters, summers included, after completing my Master's and before beginning the PhD. My lecture sections were mostly about 30-35 students. Some of the students were there to blow off life, some to seek further opportunities. Some of them I disliked, at least as many I was quite fond of. Some were rich, some poor, some international students, many locals.
It is not them however that leads me to the thought that I'd be unhappy there. I have thought long about where I might like to work. I have gone back and forth, never quite being sure. Do I want graduate students? PhD committee work? How much teaching? What about research opportunities? A four-year school, or a comprehensive, or a "Tier 1 Research" school? If I think back to my applications to doctoral institutions, I applied to four top-tier schools. Each of them well-known enough. One was private, the remaining schools were public. Three in the States, one in Canada.
For me, to a large extent it comes down to the balance between teaching and research. Perhaps I don't need graduate students of my own (within my own subdiscipline). I can always serve on PhD committees as outside reader. The better known I become in my niche, the more likely this will become. With the present experience I am having, I have come to believe there are far too many PhDs in my subdiscipline (even if I, as Mr. Interdisciplinary, only partly self-identify with it). I don't wish to contribute to that overabundance.
I think I could be happy at a comprehensive school, a 4-year liberal arts school, as much as at a doctoral-granting research school, assuming (and here's the key) that I could continue with my research. The gig at Tough Commute U calls for teaching 6 half-year courses. I think that's the limit for me. At my doctoral institution, tenure-track faculty taught mostly 4 courses per year. In my ideal world, a 2+2 or 3+2 teaching load would be just fine.
Why are research and teaching so often discussed as opposing forces, rather than as complementary enterprises. Teaching means I have to understand my work well enough to make it accessible, which strengthens my research, and enriches it by keeping it grounded. My teaching benefits from an active research program, because I continue to be passionately involved in aspects of what I'm teaching, keeping the arguments and materials fresh.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Up
Up since 4:54... well, actually since 4:23 when The Painter came in "to snuggle". That's his euphemism for:
I got an email back yesterday from the director of the the Institute for [Field 1] and [Interdisciplinary Field] at the tough commute school. As I explained, she's in a different field. I've met her at conferences of the Society for Innovative Interdisciplinarity. I wasn't sure she'd remember me, but I wrote her nonetheless, to apprise her of my new research website, and to inquire as to the status of the [Field 1] department on her campus, where the job posting is.
Her response was encouraging. Here are some excerpts:
It's more of that coasting I guess (though I'll take B*'s comment to heart: I have been through a lot of living lately). Nonetheless, I guess it's time for me to put my grant applications where my mouth is. These are good projects, and deserve at least my effort to draft up the grant applications, if not the funding and resources and recognition that ideally comes with them.
That's what got me up early. Dawn is beginning to appear outside. I see a mild blue-gray with hints of pink, in the sparse altocumulus clouds above the ocean, as I look southwest from my living room. I can't see the ocean from here, but it's not too far. Perhaps I'll curl up in bed with my wife for another few minutes of rest before the day begins in earnest.
I woke up because I have to pee, but I don't want to admit it, so I'll just crawl in bed with you and wiggle a lot until you get fed up and suggest I simply use the toilet, then put me back in my bed.But after the near-nightly ritual... I couldn't fall back asleep. I was thinking about research.
I got an email back yesterday from the director of the the Institute for [Field 1] and [Interdisciplinary Field] at the tough commute school. As I explained, she's in a different field. I've met her at conferences of the Society for Innovative Interdisciplinarity. I wasn't sure she'd remember me, but I wrote her nonetheless, to apprise her of my new research website, and to inquire as to the status of the [Field 1] department on her campus, where the job posting is.
Her response was encouraging. Here are some excerpts:
The web site looks interesting! What funding do you have for the various projects?Sounds good, as I suspected. Her first question lingers though. What funding do you have? Uh... me? Um... yeah, I'm working on that.
The [Field 1] department at [ToughCommute University] is in a state of flux right now, but is moving in the direction of [interdisciplinary approach to subject]. ...You might find it to be an interesting place to spend a year.
It's more of that coasting I guess (though I'll take B*'s comment to heart: I have been through a lot of living lately). Nonetheless, I guess it's time for me to put my grant applications where my mouth is. These are good projects, and deserve at least my effort to draft up the grant applications, if not the funding and resources and recognition that ideally comes with them.
That's what got me up early. Dawn is beginning to appear outside. I see a mild blue-gray with hints of pink, in the sparse altocumulus clouds above the ocean, as I look southwest from my living room. I can't see the ocean from here, but it's not too far. Perhaps I'll curl up in bed with my wife for another few minutes of rest before the day begins in earnest.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Another quality rejection letter
It's nice to know that at least some of my rejections come from people of substance. Today's mail brought the following letter:
Now that's a well written letter. Courteous, respectful, straight-forward and honest, without condescension. When I receive a letter like that I feel encouraged and welcome in the field, even in the face of rejection, rather than discouraged or put-off as too often occurs.
Dear Dr. ______________:
Thank you for your application for the advertised position in _________ at the University of _______________. The committee has completed its review of applications. The pool of applicants in general reflected a very high standard. The committee took considerable time and effort in rendering its short list. It is with regret that I inform you, we were not able to include you in our short list of applicants to be invited for campus interviews for this position. I wish to take this opportunity to wish you all the best in your continuing career path in the field.
Sincerely,
[Department Chair]
Now that's a well written letter. Courteous, respectful, straight-forward and honest, without condescension. When I receive a letter like that I feel encouraged and welcome in the field, even in the face of rejection, rather than discouraged or put-off as too often occurs.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Small milestones
I'll take 'em. I finished the initial analysis of the first set of data for my current small project. This is the analysis I was doing yesterday when the program crashed. I've taken to obsessively hitting Ctrl-S, since there's no automation of this function (It's a shareware program, but perhaps the best for what I'm doing). It's a good habit for me to get into (especially since this program doesn't prompt at close to save).
It's a cold and grey day here. It's "Cesar Chavez" day, so the entire campus is closed as well. Since I have a building and lab key, it was no problem for me to get in and work. But... I couldn't get lunch anywhere, and didn't think to pack a lunch today. Sorry to say, I didn't know it was CC day! So, I've been subsisting off of dried apricots and a bag of Chex Mix. (Now, why do I feel like a grad student today?)
It feels good to have reached a small milestone. I had a nice chat with the newest member of the faculty here in my host department. He's a couple years younger than me, but quite accomplished. And we share an interest in [InterdisciplinaryField]. As he put it, he's been lucky. And he has. But he's much more published than I. He gave me some ideas that I think I'll take away with me. Mainly he simply reiterated what I wrote a few days ago about publishing. I've got to simply take the attitude that what I have to say (even if it doesn't seem perfect) is worth sending out. I have to trust that it's at least good enough for feedback. And, who knows, maybe some of those articles will be stamped "pending revision."
Most importantly, I simply have to keep on keeping on.
WhatNow? has been writing about some issues that speak to my present experience. The situations are different, but I think the underlying emotions are recognizable. The main thing I take away from it is the need to remember it's my life I'm living, it's my choices that have gotten me here, I'm in the steerage... and what's more, I kind of like it. I'm the one who's had most to do with forging this life, and I'm the principal player in all that happens next.
Granted, Dryden may be right, when he says misery is more entertaining than most other alternatives. But, frankly, I'm tired of my own whining. Timna may be right as well that others like to catch us at our whiniest. So maybe I won't be getting links for a while. I can suffer it.
No promises, though. But I'm going to make some effort to just enjoy my life. Misery makes us martyrs, leads us to disregard our own best interests in pretending our suffering serves some greater goal. Just think of Zacarias Moussaoui.
It's a cold and grey day here. It's "Cesar Chavez" day, so the entire campus is closed as well. Since I have a building and lab key, it was no problem for me to get in and work. But... I couldn't get lunch anywhere, and didn't think to pack a lunch today. Sorry to say, I didn't know it was CC day! So, I've been subsisting off of dried apricots and a bag of Chex Mix. (Now, why do I feel like a grad student today?)
It feels good to have reached a small milestone. I had a nice chat with the newest member of the faculty here in my host department. He's a couple years younger than me, but quite accomplished. And we share an interest in [InterdisciplinaryField]. As he put it, he's been lucky. And he has. But he's much more published than I. He gave me some ideas that I think I'll take away with me. Mainly he simply reiterated what I wrote a few days ago about publishing. I've got to simply take the attitude that what I have to say (even if it doesn't seem perfect) is worth sending out. I have to trust that it's at least good enough for feedback. And, who knows, maybe some of those articles will be stamped "pending revision."
Most importantly, I simply have to keep on keeping on.
WhatNow? has been writing about some issues that speak to my present experience. The situations are different, but I think the underlying emotions are recognizable. The main thing I take away from it is the need to remember it's my life I'm living, it's my choices that have gotten me here, I'm in the steerage... and what's more, I kind of like it. I'm the one who's had most to do with forging this life, and I'm the principal player in all that happens next.
Granted, Dryden may be right, when he says misery is more entertaining than most other alternatives. But, frankly, I'm tired of my own whining. Timna may be right as well that others like to catch us at our whiniest. So maybe I won't be getting links for a while. I can suffer it.
No promises, though. But I'm going to make some effort to just enjoy my life. Misery makes us martyrs, leads us to disregard our own best interests in pretending our suffering serves some greater goal. Just think of Zacarias Moussaoui.
A new day
Sorry for my self-pity last night. Sometimes I good cry or whine is needed to purge.
As I promised, today is a new day.
This morning, I drafted up and sent off an abstract for the chapter meeting of SOD, which is coming up in the beginning of May. The abstract was on one of my current smaller projects. And it gives me impetus to draw some conclusions. I've also decided this will play a major role in my host department's colloquium presentation in the middle of May.
Then, I've caught up on all my blog feeds. So, I won't have to write comments on five day old posts for a while.
I intend to have a good and productive day, and a wonderful weekend with my family, keeping priorities where they lie.
As I promised, today is a new day.
This morning, I drafted up and sent off an abstract for the chapter meeting of SOD, which is coming up in the beginning of May. The abstract was on one of my current smaller projects. And it gives me impetus to draw some conclusions. I've also decided this will play a major role in my host department's colloquium presentation in the middle of May.
Then, I've caught up on all my blog feeds. So, I won't have to write comments on five day old posts for a while.
I intend to have a good and productive day, and a wonderful weekend with my family, keeping priorities where they lie.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
What's keeping me in this fight?
At times I think it's sheer momentum. There are times when I think half the reason I am still here is what I've always considered a sorry excuse: because I already have so much invested. It's like the current U.S. administration's excuse for continuing headstrong on one failed policy after another.
Am I as guilty as they?
Maybe it's pure selfishness. I'm shocked by the headlines in my news feeds. More bombings every day. Now dozens die in Iran from earthquakes. Tsunamis and Hurricanes.
In the face of that, what's it matter if little ole me is a professor or not? Who cares? Does my plight have any impact on the suffering in the world?
But at the moment, I'm too invested, or too afraid of considering any real alternative. I can't exactly pack up, abandon my family and head to Indonesia for the Peace Corps. To be fair, there are times (often enough) when I believe I have much to contribute in academia, when I know in my heart that I am a good teacher (my student evals, albethey yellowing from age at this point, attest to that), when I'm excited by research, and convinced that my efforts will ease us closer to some hidden domain of knowledge. There are times when I believe, as my Jewish heritage teaches me, that this too, a life dedicated to knowledge, perhaps even above all else, is worthy.
I miss the stage: the applause, yes; but the faces too. I miss looking into the faces in the audience, speaking directly to them, seeing their tears or fears. That's meaningful! That's doing something I can be proud of.
That's the point. We can (I have, I know) justify our lives in myriad ways. It is possible to find value and worth in waiting tables, or gardening, even in changing a diaper. It's just... I'm not sure I can, anymore. I want to be a professor. Damn it, I want that!
Just now I feel embarassed and ashamed. I'm a mere statistic: an unemployed PhD.
Ah. Tomorrow's another day.
Am I as guilty as they?
Maybe it's pure selfishness. I'm shocked by the headlines in my news feeds. More bombings every day. Now dozens die in Iran from earthquakes. Tsunamis and Hurricanes.
In the face of that, what's it matter if little ole me is a professor or not? Who cares? Does my plight have any impact on the suffering in the world?
But at the moment, I'm too invested, or too afraid of considering any real alternative. I can't exactly pack up, abandon my family and head to Indonesia for the Peace Corps. To be fair, there are times (often enough) when I believe I have much to contribute in academia, when I know in my heart that I am a good teacher (my student evals, albethey yellowing from age at this point, attest to that), when I'm excited by research, and convinced that my efforts will ease us closer to some hidden domain of knowledge. There are times when I believe, as my Jewish heritage teaches me, that this too, a life dedicated to knowledge, perhaps even above all else, is worthy.
I miss the stage: the applause, yes; but the faces too. I miss looking into the faces in the audience, speaking directly to them, seeing their tears or fears. That's meaningful! That's doing something I can be proud of.
That's the point. We can (I have, I know) justify our lives in myriad ways. It is possible to find value and worth in waiting tables, or gardening, even in changing a diaper. It's just... I'm not sure I can, anymore. I want to be a professor. Damn it, I want that!
Just now I feel embarassed and ashamed. I'm a mere statistic: an unemployed PhD.
Ah. Tomorrow's another day.
Life's a rollercoaster, and all I want...
All I really want... is to get off and taste the fried dough!
[SIGH]
A bunch of random thoughts. I guess Prof. me is contagious.
I didn't get too upset this afternoon, when the program I was using crashed, and I lost about an hour's worth of work. That's okay. The analysis always goes quicker the second time around.
I've been getting pretty excited about this prospective one-year gig, 1500 miles away. Why? Why should I be pleased over a long shot (aren't they all?) that would be the worst continuing logistical nightmare of my life? Because I really want to get my career started. That's all I can say.
I wrote to a conference friend of mine, who's a prof. at a school less than an hour down the road from there. In response to my general inquiry (which was in part, I admit, just an excuse to be back in touch with him), he wrote:
Maybe this is a good sign though. Usually when I get excited about something, I forget all about the other irons I have in the fire, until I start smelling some smoke. When the smoke comes, it often means something completely unexpected has turned out. None of the three schools who called me for telephone interviews last year were what I expected. Each was quite different from the other: one medium-sized comprehensive state university (where I had the campus interview); one small liberal arts college; a one-year at a major research university.
What do I make of that? Hell, I don't know who'd be interested in me, or why. I can't say why those particular schools called me last year, nor why I've gotten nothing so far this year. But I've got applications out. If it weren't for the records I keep on my computer, I'd have no idea where I've applied. So, who knows? Maybe one of those schools will yet call me up.
I just want to feel a part of the academic community again. I feel like since I filed that diss, and walked across the stage, in my [borrowed] regalia, it's been like severed ties. I'm just this old floor lamp, sitting in the corner, with a frayed power cord, gathering dust.
My wife tires of my ups and downs (as do I). It's frustrating for her, because she realizes there's really nothing she can do. The one thing really lacking in my life is my professional career, about which she has no control. I'm doing everything I can it seems. So, all I can do is wait.
...
...
Have I said it before? I hate waiting!
[SIGH]
A bunch of random thoughts. I guess Prof. me is contagious.
I didn't get too upset this afternoon, when the program I was using crashed, and I lost about an hour's worth of work. That's okay. The analysis always goes quicker the second time around.
I've been getting pretty excited about this prospective one-year gig, 1500 miles away. Why? Why should I be pleased over a long shot (aren't they all?) that would be the worst continuing logistical nightmare of my life? Because I really want to get my career started. That's all I can say.
I wrote to a conference friend of mine, who's a prof. at a school less than an hour down the road from there. In response to my general inquiry (which was in part, I admit, just an excuse to be back in touch with him), he wrote:
Obviously it would fantastic for you to be at [that University] as they have one of the most exciting [field 1] and [interdisciplinary field] groups in Canada.A-yup, I know. That's why I'm excited. But it's just a posting... I haven't even worked up the new syllabus yet, to include with my application. But I've been working on it. Next, my friend went on to write that he anticipates having a post-doc opportunity at his school, that might be appropriate for me. So, there's another possibility.
Maybe this is a good sign though. Usually when I get excited about something, I forget all about the other irons I have in the fire, until I start smelling some smoke. When the smoke comes, it often means something completely unexpected has turned out. None of the three schools who called me for telephone interviews last year were what I expected. Each was quite different from the other: one medium-sized comprehensive state university (where I had the campus interview); one small liberal arts college; a one-year at a major research university.
What do I make of that? Hell, I don't know who'd be interested in me, or why. I can't say why those particular schools called me last year, nor why I've gotten nothing so far this year. But I've got applications out. If it weren't for the records I keep on my computer, I'd have no idea where I've applied. So, who knows? Maybe one of those schools will yet call me up.
I just want to feel a part of the academic community again. I feel like since I filed that diss, and walked across the stage, in my [borrowed] regalia, it's been like severed ties. I'm just this old floor lamp, sitting in the corner, with a frayed power cord, gathering dust.
My wife tires of my ups and downs (as do I). It's frustrating for her, because she realizes there's really nothing she can do. The one thing really lacking in my life is my professional career, about which she has no control. I'm doing everything I can it seems. So, all I can do is wait.
...
...
Have I said it before? I hate waiting!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Convergences
I'm not a religious person. Not superstitious either. But I've come to appreciate what I call convergences in life. A convergence is when something comes up again and again, from different angles.
When I was younger, my mother bought the oddest little car, an AMC Pacer. Suddenly I noticed them everywhere. Of course, that mostly reflected my own perception of the world. We're always best attuned to hearing our own name spoken over a noisy and distorted loudspeaker at a train station or doctor's office. So a convergence may mostly be one's own awareness of the world in particular ways. For me, being able to pick out connections to the same object (the "all roads lead to Rome" phenomenon) is a good sign that I'm on the right path.
This happened for me as my research focus emerged over the past decade. The more I read about disparate things that interested me, the more they seemed alike, the more connections I could draw. That's where my interdisciplinarity derives from. Sometimes however, these convergences emerge in more mysterious ways.
Yesterday, I mentioned a one-year job I'll probably apply for that would be a tough commute. This morning, while [obsessively] checking my webstats, I noticed one hit on my personal research website from the very city in Canada where that school is! Hmmm. I haven't even applied there yet. So, I looked more closely. The click (to the web-version of my CV by the way) was based on a Google search for one of my references. My PRW was the top page result. Sweet!
They say in advertising and politics, name recognition is king. So...
When I was younger, my mother bought the oddest little car, an AMC Pacer. Suddenly I noticed them everywhere. Of course, that mostly reflected my own perception of the world. We're always best attuned to hearing our own name spoken over a noisy and distorted loudspeaker at a train station or doctor's office. So a convergence may mostly be one's own awareness of the world in particular ways. For me, being able to pick out connections to the same object (the "all roads lead to Rome" phenomenon) is a good sign that I'm on the right path.
This happened for me as my research focus emerged over the past decade. The more I read about disparate things that interested me, the more they seemed alike, the more connections I could draw. That's where my interdisciplinarity derives from. Sometimes however, these convergences emerge in more mysterious ways.
Yesterday, I mentioned a one-year job I'll probably apply for that would be a tough commute. This morning, while [obsessively] checking my webstats, I noticed one hit on my personal research website from the very city in Canada where that school is! Hmmm. I haven't even applied there yet. So, I looked more closely. The click (to the web-version of my CV by the way) was based on a Google search for one of my references. My PRW was the top page result. Sweet!
They say in advertising and politics, name recognition is king. So...
in your face, folks... this is me, I'm here, oh... and by the way, got any jobs?More posts keep coming up. Mostly one-year gigs. But that's okay. I just want a jump start now. I can buy a new battery down the road. I just want to hear that engine purr.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Chinese Fortune Cookie
Ahh, if only there were an intelligence behind this!
Lunchtime the boys and I had lunch with my wife. We had a makeup gymnastics class for The Painter in the vicinity of her work and the timing was right. We had Chinese buffet. Pretty good. Here was my fortune:
Lunchtime the boys and I had lunch with my wife. We had a makeup gymnastics class for The Painter in the vicinity of her work and the timing was right. We had Chinese buffet. Pretty good. Here was my fortune:
Your skills and talents will be called on in unusual areas.Somebody, make a believer out of me!
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