This begins to get tired and old.
Today's mail brought:
Dear Mr. [ArticulateDad]
<--Interesting. The envelope was addressed to Dr. [ArticulateDad]. Is this a bit of informality, or simply an (un)intended slight? Am I petty to notice these things?-->
Thank you for your interest in the Department of [Field] at [Leading Ivy League Institution]<--in their own humble opinion as gleaned from their website--> We have completed the faculty search and chosen a candidate who best fits our needs at this time.
On behalf of the search committee, I thank you for your interest in the position and wish you well in your job search.
Sincerely,
[FirstName LastName]
Chair, Faculty Search Committee
[SIGH] I'd say, with my growing expertise on these matters, that this is a middling sort of rejection letter. It's polite enough. Perhaps too brief. But at least they wish me well in my job search, rather than pursuing other opportunities. I feel like I'm describing the bouquet and finish of a nice Merlot, rather than the repeated misery of yet another place where what I have is not what they want.
The problem is what are departments' needs? But then, if I knew, would I be able to reform myself to fit their mold? Mostly, I try to avoid the postings that specify in a bit too much detail exactly what they are looking for. But it all depends. The size of the program determines a great deal about the sorts of classes one will need to cover. I'm happy teaching.
I try to read each posting individually, judging it on its own merits. (I'd like to think each committee extends the same courtesy to me.) I research the school and the department and try to envision myself working there, teaching there, interacting with those faculty as colleagues. I investigate other departments with which I might seek collaborations. I look at faculty research interests within and beyond the department. Only when I'm satisfied there is something workable (and let me tell you, if I've applied for nearly 50 jobs this year, my standards can't be too restrictive, now can they?) I draft up a cover letter, and whatever other materials are needed, and I send them off.
So far, what I've gotten in return does not quite fit my needs at this time.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Sometimes distraction is good
Lately, I've been consumed by my efforts to create a Personal Research Website (PRW). This morning, I received the following email:
Dear Dr _____________
The Appointments Committee was pleased to receive your application, and read it with interest. I am sorry to have to tell you, however, that the Committee has decided not to take this application further.
Thank you very much for your interest in our post. The Committee has asked me to wish you well in finding a suitable position in the future.
Best wishes,
[SIGH]
At least they were quick. The closing deadline was less than a month ago. Of course, maybe that's a bad sign, that I was dropped at the first cut. At a certain point you get used to it I guess. I'm not sure I've reached that point yet. I don't really want to become an expert on how not to get an academic job. It's, uh... not really the expertise I'm seeking.
But, distraction can be good. I've been putting in hours and hours developing the content, organization, and appearance of my PRW. In a sense it's my way of telling (myself and) the world that I really do have a job. This is my career. I'm building it, one step at a time. I can't allow myself to be bogged down by the misery of rejection letters, of failing so far to land myself a faculty post somewhere.
I didn't allow myself to be guided in my doctoral studies by what had been done before. To be honest, I really can't understand a PhD that is. Perhaps this present difficulty I'm having in landing a job is the consequences of those choices. But my work couldn't really be all that bizarre, unfathomable, and worthless. They did grant me a PhD. That ought to say something.
I suppose a cynic out there might contest this conclusion. Perhaps indeed there are many unworthy PhDs granted every year. If that's the case, I simply don't believe mine is one of them.
I'm quite convinced that my own little niche is not quite as small as one might suppose. This PRW is intended to allow me a means for organizing my thoughts and research. Hypertext allows a multidimensional organization that seems perfectly suitable for interdisciplinary work. But this website is also intended to give a public face to the field, to convince others that it is real, and the ways in which it is useful.
Wish me luck in staying distracted by my work!
Dear Dr _____________
The Appointments Committee was pleased to receive your application, and read it with interest. I am sorry to have to tell you, however, that the Committee has decided not to take this application further.
Thank you very much for your interest in our post. The Committee has asked me to wish you well in finding a suitable position in the future.
Best wishes,
[SIGH]
At least they were quick. The closing deadline was less than a month ago. Of course, maybe that's a bad sign, that I was dropped at the first cut. At a certain point you get used to it I guess. I'm not sure I've reached that point yet. I don't really want to become an expert on how not to get an academic job. It's, uh... not really the expertise I'm seeking.
But, distraction can be good. I've been putting in hours and hours developing the content, organization, and appearance of my PRW. In a sense it's my way of telling (myself and) the world that I really do have a job. This is my career. I'm building it, one step at a time. I can't allow myself to be bogged down by the misery of rejection letters, of failing so far to land myself a faculty post somewhere.
I didn't allow myself to be guided in my doctoral studies by what had been done before. To be honest, I really can't understand a PhD that is. Perhaps this present difficulty I'm having in landing a job is the consequences of those choices. But my work couldn't really be all that bizarre, unfathomable, and worthless. They did grant me a PhD. That ought to say something.
I suppose a cynic out there might contest this conclusion. Perhaps indeed there are many unworthy PhDs granted every year. If that's the case, I simply don't believe mine is one of them.
I'm quite convinced that my own little niche is not quite as small as one might suppose. This PRW is intended to allow me a means for organizing my thoughts and research. Hypertext allows a multidimensional organization that seems perfectly suitable for interdisciplinary work. But this website is also intended to give a public face to the field, to convince others that it is real, and the ways in which it is useful.
Wish me luck in staying distracted by my work!
Bill Ford?
Off topic, to be sure, but I couldn't resist.
Has anyone else noticed the conspicuous inclusion of Bill Ford's picture in all these recent Ford Motor Company ads lately? Let's see: why would I need to know the name and face of a CEO? Hmmm. Well, they could just be trying to soften their image. I mean, they are rolling out hybrid vehicles. But wait. Hybrids? That's kind of popular these days isn't it? I mean, even the POTUS has been making grunts in the direction of weakening our dependence on imported oil. (He wouldn't do that unless the polls, which he doesn't read of course, were telling him something).
Here's my prediction: Bill Ford is running for Senate or, who knows, the white house. Could just be my own suspicion. And frankly, I don't know the first thing about him. I've never heard of him nor seen his face until recently. What's his political persuasion? I have no idea. But he's a handsome guy for sure. And he's got that politician look, sort of a cross between Al Gore and John Edwards. Take a look. What do you think he's running for?
Give credit where credit is due. The photo was snagged from http://media.ford.com/images/large/people/WFC_JR_photo.jpg
Has anyone else noticed the conspicuous inclusion of Bill Ford's picture in all these recent Ford Motor Company ads lately? Let's see: why would I need to know the name and face of a CEO? Hmmm. Well, they could just be trying to soften their image. I mean, they are rolling out hybrid vehicles. But wait. Hybrids? That's kind of popular these days isn't it? I mean, even the POTUS has been making grunts in the direction of weakening our dependence on imported oil. (He wouldn't do that unless the polls, which he doesn't read of course, were telling him something).
Here's my prediction: Bill Ford is running for Senate or, who knows, the white house. Could just be my own suspicion. And frankly, I don't know the first thing about him. I've never heard of him nor seen his face until recently. What's his political persuasion? I have no idea. But he's a handsome guy for sure. And he's got that politician look, sort of a cross between Al Gore and John Edwards. Take a look. What do you think he's running for?
Give credit where credit is due. The photo was snagged from http://media.ford.com/images/large/people/WFC_JR_photo.jpg
Monday, March 13, 2006
To what do we lend a voice?
A link on Inside Higher Ed brings with it a huge uptick in site visits (I've had well over 300 unique visitors in the past two days, according to last count), and incidentally a bit of soul-searching about the nature of the blog, and the voice that is being heard. To what do I lend a voice?
This is my second link on Inside Higher Ed. The first was Silence is definitely NOT golden about the near silence I received from my dissertation committee, after submitting a complete draft. I realize in reading other blogs over the past few months (see my blog roll!), that each one's relationship with their mentors is quite different. And I recognize that much is determined by our own personalities and propensities.
This most recent link from IHE was a posting of what I dubbed a tacky rejection letter. As I mentioned there, perhaps it's a bit of sour grapes. Nonetheless, there is a wide range of tactfulness exhibited in academic rejection letters. There's little reason why search committee (or grant committee) chairs can't make the extra effort to exude a bit of courtesy, a modicum of respect, a degree of genuine openness to the diversity of ideas, backgrounds, and experiences, without making rejected candidates feel inadequate or unappreciated. Failing to get the job or grant is quite insult enough.
But I'm not writing now simply to rehash those earlier posts. I'm wondering what this all means. I've written over 100 posts, but only a few of those have been picked up by others. I am still new to the blogosphere, I confess. There is a temptation with a captive audience (knowing so many visitors will come) to get on the stump with a megaphone and rant. But what is the appropriate topic of my posts? And, secondarily what will my audience hear?
As teachers and scholars we deal with this everyday. We prepare lecture notes or conference papers; we labor over the outline, our path through the data and ideas, our conclusion. Yet, we don't have ultimate control over what will be heard, much less what will be retained.
There are many topics about which I am passionate. Yet some of them seem tangential to the purpose of this blog. It's a constant wrestling with ideas, and that process is good. Not only how to say things, but which things should be heard. If I remain silent on something important, am I culpable in the end for collusion with what I failed to oppose?
I think of Socrates at his trial. There was one argument he made that always struck me as tragic: I never opposed these laws when I was free to oppose them, though I think they are unjust. How can I defend myself against them now that I am no longer free?
This is my second link on Inside Higher Ed. The first was Silence is definitely NOT golden about the near silence I received from my dissertation committee, after submitting a complete draft. I realize in reading other blogs over the past few months (see my blog roll!), that each one's relationship with their mentors is quite different. And I recognize that much is determined by our own personalities and propensities.
This most recent link from IHE was a posting of what I dubbed a tacky rejection letter. As I mentioned there, perhaps it's a bit of sour grapes. Nonetheless, there is a wide range of tactfulness exhibited in academic rejection letters. There's little reason why search committee (or grant committee) chairs can't make the extra effort to exude a bit of courtesy, a modicum of respect, a degree of genuine openness to the diversity of ideas, backgrounds, and experiences, without making rejected candidates feel inadequate or unappreciated. Failing to get the job or grant is quite insult enough.
But I'm not writing now simply to rehash those earlier posts. I'm wondering what this all means. I've written over 100 posts, but only a few of those have been picked up by others. I am still new to the blogosphere, I confess. There is a temptation with a captive audience (knowing so many visitors will come) to get on the stump with a megaphone and rant. But what is the appropriate topic of my posts? And, secondarily what will my audience hear?
As teachers and scholars we deal with this everyday. We prepare lecture notes or conference papers; we labor over the outline, our path through the data and ideas, our conclusion. Yet, we don't have ultimate control over what will be heard, much less what will be retained.
There are many topics about which I am passionate. Yet some of them seem tangential to the purpose of this blog. It's a constant wrestling with ideas, and that process is good. Not only how to say things, but which things should be heard. If I remain silent on something important, am I culpable in the end for collusion with what I failed to oppose?
I think of Socrates at his trial. There was one argument he made that always struck me as tragic: I never opposed these laws when I was free to oppose them, though I think they are unjust. How can I defend myself against them now that I am no longer free?
Saturday, March 11, 2006
A web administrator I am not!
Let's just say, several hours of frustration later... and a desperate chat with my brother (who thinks I'm about as bright as someone who would call a tech support line only to discover that indeed the computer won't work unless it's plugged in)... and I finally finally finally got the website up and running to the point that I can begin to start to do something with it. This will be an awkward few weeks, as I report on what I'm doing, as I come to grips with a new sort of relationship with the public, and my field, and myself. I'll have to do a bit of soul-searching as I figure out how much of my real self I'll allow to be revealed here.
One thing I believe... this blog is not really about my research. It's about me, and my experience as a human being, as a scholar, as an academic, dealing with the ups and downs of that state of being. In a sense, the details of my research is somewhat irrelevant here, perhaps distracting. Then again, who am I if not defined by my work? But... I'll be working on those issues over the next few weeks, as my "professional research website" takes form, and I'm sure you'll all be privy at least to a bit of this wrestling with myself.
One thing I believe... this blog is not really about my research. It's about me, and my experience as a human being, as a scholar, as an academic, dealing with the ups and downs of that state of being. In a sense, the details of my research is somewhat irrelevant here, perhaps distracting. Then again, who am I if not defined by my work? But... I'll be working on those issues over the next few weeks, as my "professional research website" takes form, and I'm sure you'll all be privy at least to a bit of this wrestling with myself.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Oooh, got my candy... now I can play
Had a wonderful dinner with friends (and two of their three kids, their #1 was with grandma). I made goulash with spaetzle, followed by home-made green tea ice cream. Yum!
Then, I checked my email... and I've got my IP address! Yea... now I can play. I'll let you all know how it goes.
Then, I checked my email... and I've got my IP address! Yea... now I can play. I'll let you all know how it goes.
Tacky, but I'd expect no less
[SNORT]
Got a rejection letter from my old department in today's mail. You know, the department that wouldn't consider me for a post-doctoral faculty fellowship. This is from the same chair who wrote I am sorry if I slipped up if the obligation was mine. This was for a faculty post in the same department. The fellowship was intended to hedge my bets.
The funny thing is this is nearly the exact letter they sent out two years ago when they first opened the search. See... by the time they got around to interviewing then, ALL of their top picks had already accepted posts elsewhere. And it took them a full season to convince the dean they should be allowed to reopen it.
As a model for tacky rejection letters, I think this one is tops:
Dear Dr. ________:
Thank you for applying for the position of Assistant Professor of ______________. We had many fine candidates, making the process of selecting a small group of finalists difficult and lengthy. I am writing to report that your candidacy for the post is no longer under consideration.
[So far nothing too bad. Nothing pleasant, but standard drab... then he writes:]
The finalists chosen were considered to have the skills, knowledge and experience that closely meet our needs. We appreciate your interest in employment at the [University of Paradise], and wish you success in pursuing other opportunities.
[Oh, so you mean everyone else was considered not to have the skills, knowledge and experience that fit your standards... I see.... Oh, and by the way, good luck in landing a dishwashing job somewhere. You know, other opportunities] And... to top it off, the signature is a really bad pixelized digital reproduction.
Okay, a little bit of sour grapes on my part I suppose. But it is one of the worst written letters I've gotten. A little bit of dignity and respect for having completed a PhD wouldn't hurt, now would it?
Got a rejection letter from my old department in today's mail. You know, the department that wouldn't consider me for a post-doctoral faculty fellowship. This is from the same chair who wrote I am sorry if I slipped up if the obligation was mine. This was for a faculty post in the same department. The fellowship was intended to hedge my bets.
The funny thing is this is nearly the exact letter they sent out two years ago when they first opened the search. See... by the time they got around to interviewing then, ALL of their top picks had already accepted posts elsewhere. And it took them a full season to convince the dean they should be allowed to reopen it.
As a model for tacky rejection letters, I think this one is tops:
Dear Dr. ________:
Thank you for applying for the position of Assistant Professor of ______________. We had many fine candidates, making the process of selecting a small group of finalists difficult and lengthy. I am writing to report that your candidacy for the post is no longer under consideration.
[So far nothing too bad. Nothing pleasant, but standard drab... then he writes:]
The finalists chosen were considered to have the skills, knowledge and experience that closely meet our needs. We appreciate your interest in employment at the [University of Paradise], and wish you success in pursuing other opportunities.
[Oh, so you mean everyone else was considered not to have the skills, knowledge and experience that fit your standards... I see.... Oh, and by the way, good luck in landing a dishwashing job somewhere. You know, other opportunities] And... to top it off, the signature is a really bad pixelized digital reproduction.
Okay, a little bit of sour grapes on my part I suppose. But it is one of the worst written letters I've gotten. A little bit of dignity and respect for having completed a PhD wouldn't hurt, now would it?
I sit and stare
What am I waiting for? It feels like I'm sitting around with nothing to do. Of course, that's not exactly true.
I drafted up a decent preliminary outline for my planned research website. Yup, I decided to go ahead with the plan. I ordered the hosting service (signed up for a 2-year pre-paid contract), and registered a domain name (plus 2 free variants, i.e. .net, .info, .org). Turns out the [MySite].com domain (which I wasn't so interested in) was already registered. I wonder if that will lead to confusion?
I thought this would be easier however. Have I said it before? I hate waiting! Tick... tick... tick. I signed up, they were supposed to call to confirm. After an hour, I called them back, and was able to confirm over the telephone. I'm supposed to get an email with directions for how to get started. Tick... tick... tick.
Yeah, I'm impatient. What's the big deal? Hmmm. I've gotten used to composing my thoughts at the computer. I want to get started setting up the website. I haven't figured out how to do that locally on my computer. I've been reading over documentation for WordPress. There's a learning curve. I want to do this right from the start, so I establish a system, and will be able to just post content.
Meantime, I'm like a kid promised a trip to the candy store, but somehow we're not in the car yet. There's some more delay.... I want my candy!
I drafted up a decent preliminary outline for my planned research website. Yup, I decided to go ahead with the plan. I ordered the hosting service (signed up for a 2-year pre-paid contract), and registered a domain name (plus 2 free variants, i.e. .net, .info, .org). Turns out the [MySite].com domain (which I wasn't so interested in) was already registered. I wonder if that will lead to confusion?
I thought this would be easier however. Have I said it before? I hate waiting! Tick... tick... tick. I signed up, they were supposed to call to confirm. After an hour, I called them back, and was able to confirm over the telephone. I'm supposed to get an email with directions for how to get started. Tick... tick... tick.
Yeah, I'm impatient. What's the big deal? Hmmm. I've gotten used to composing my thoughts at the computer. I want to get started setting up the website. I haven't figured out how to do that locally on my computer. I've been reading over documentation for WordPress. There's a learning curve. I want to do this right from the start, so I establish a system, and will be able to just post content.
Meantime, I'm like a kid promised a trip to the candy store, but somehow we're not in the car yet. There's some more delay.... I want my candy!
A typical morning
[... knock... scritch... jingle jingle... kschwoo...]
Painter: Ducky opened the door.
[He carries a stuffed "Ty silk" duck, which in fact more resembles a platypus, or a flattened duck. This is his "friend".]
Me: uhnnn
Painter: Hi daaady! Will you please get me some milk?
Me: Uhnnn... what time is it? What does the clock say?
Painter: 6...2...3
Me: Unh hnn... it's 6:23. That's too early.
Painter: When will you get me some milk?
Me: at 7...
Painter: what are the numbers?
Me: 7..0..0
Painter: Oh... okay... why won't you get me milk now, daddy?
Me: It's too early.
Painter: But why?
Me: We go through this every morning. And every morning I say I'll get you the milk at 7. Daddy needs his sleep. Why don't you just come snuggle?
[Problem is... we have a "Full" bed... The Inventor (1;4) is already in bed nursing by this point... The Painter has left the door open, so the three cats have migrated to the bed ooh... warm spot!. It's a good thing the wife and I are both small.]
Painter: Now it says 6...2...8
Me: uhnn urgggh
[Painter proceeds to stretch out, pushing me with his feet.]
[I get up to pee. I crawl back in bed... there's really little point in this. I get up at 6:43, and wander to my computer, to mindlessly check email and Bloglines.]
[Half a minute later...]
Painter: Daaaddy? Will you get me some milk?
Me: I'd be deligh-
Painter: Cause the milk-time clock says it's 43-o'clock, and that means it's milk time.
[SIGH!]
Painter: Ducky opened the door.
[He carries a stuffed "Ty silk" duck, which in fact more resembles a platypus, or a flattened duck. This is his "friend".]
Me: uhnnn
Painter: Hi daaady! Will you please get me some milk?
Me: Uhnnn... what time is it? What does the clock say?
Painter: 6...2...3
Me: Unh hnn... it's 6:23. That's too early.
Painter: When will you get me some milk?
Me: at 7...
Painter: what are the numbers?
Me: 7..0..0
Painter: Oh... okay... why won't you get me milk now, daddy?
Me: It's too early.
Painter: But why?
Me: We go through this every morning. And every morning I say I'll get you the milk at 7. Daddy needs his sleep. Why don't you just come snuggle?
[Problem is... we have a "Full" bed... The Inventor (1;4) is already in bed nursing by this point... The Painter has left the door open, so the three cats have migrated to the bed ooh... warm spot!. It's a good thing the wife and I are both small.]
Painter: Now it says 6...2...8
Me: uhnn urgggh
[Painter proceeds to stretch out, pushing me with his feet.]
[I get up to pee. I crawl back in bed... there's really little point in this. I get up at 6:43, and wander to my computer, to mindlessly check email and Bloglines.]
[Half a minute later...]
Painter: Daaaddy? Will you get me some milk?
Me: I'd be deligh-
Painter: Cause the milk-time clock says it's 43-o'clock, and that means it's milk time.
[SIGH!]
Thursday, March 09, 2006
A professional research website?
One thing I've been contemplating lately is creating a professional research website. What do I mean? Here's part of my motivation: I've had a near constant web presence since about 1994. It's my public face to the world.
My current webpages at my graduate university consist of dozens of connected pages, including the posting of several papers I've written, along with my CV, comments on research, and personal pages. One page of mine, an annotated bibliography from my first-term as a doctoral student, gets about 5-10 hits per week from various search engines, drawing individuals with widely divergent interests toward a single reference covering over 100 articles and books. I think it's a useful resource, and would like to add to it, and set up several more.
Recently, I've renewed a commitment to raising the awareness of my area of study, as well as a desire to pump up my public profile. So... creating a website dedicated to my area of study seems like a good idea. And, it would allow me a way to maintain my web presence under my real name. My university account expires one year after I graduated, which was last June. My Visiting Scholar status grants me an email address (and access to letterhead and the library and such), but no webspace, so far as I know. I just emailed the chair and my sponsor to ask. But even so, there may be a benefit in establishing a web presence for the area of study, as a point of contact for the various researchers and the curious. From what I can tell, it would cost me about $100/year, plus all the time I commit to it.
Any thoughts anyone?
My current webpages at my graduate university consist of dozens of connected pages, including the posting of several papers I've written, along with my CV, comments on research, and personal pages. One page of mine, an annotated bibliography from my first-term as a doctoral student, gets about 5-10 hits per week from various search engines, drawing individuals with widely divergent interests toward a single reference covering over 100 articles and books. I think it's a useful resource, and would like to add to it, and set up several more.
Recently, I've renewed a commitment to raising the awareness of my area of study, as well as a desire to pump up my public profile. So... creating a website dedicated to my area of study seems like a good idea. And, it would allow me a way to maintain my web presence under my real name. My university account expires one year after I graduated, which was last June. My Visiting Scholar status grants me an email address (and access to letterhead and the library and such), but no webspace, so far as I know. I just emailed the chair and my sponsor to ask. But even so, there may be a benefit in establishing a web presence for the area of study, as a point of contact for the various researchers and the curious. From what I can tell, it would cost me about $100/year, plus all the time I commit to it.
Any thoughts anyone?
On hold
Some days I just feel like feeling sorry for myself. Sometimes I curse myself for being too damn self-reflective. God, I wish I could just be indulgently selfish sometimes and not contemplate the causes and effects of my inner drama. But, alas, that's not me. If I can't feel miserable and guilty, what good am I? ;) Not that I can't be selfish... but I have to make myself suffer for it.
It's been a rough week, to some extent. For me, rough means especially that I have to wait for something from someone. I hate to wait. One of my favorite songs has long been Franz Schubert's Ungeduld, as much for it's title as anything else.
I am constantly working out contingencies, and alternate plans, and laying out on the table all the life possibilities I can imagine. I have no problem considering these things. But I'm totally thrown off when something arises that I hadn't considered (even if it's something small, like my wife arriving home an hour later from work than planned... dinner is waylaid, movie night is delayed).
Mostly, however, I'm waiting for this journal to give me word on my article. Sure, it's not even been two weeks. But, of course, I have no way of knowing how long the process is expected to take. They've given me no time frame other than hope to be back in touch with you quite soon. And, that is only one thing I'm waiting for. More importantly (though my anticipation is guided by less hope at this point) are the remaining schools I've applied to. Even getting their curt we're pleased to announce the hiring of Dr. What-Do-You-Mean-You've-Never-Heard-Of-Me Google-Turns-Up-Nothing. Good luck in your career letters at least give me closure.
I know that I am not the center of everyone else's universe, that their sense of time does not revolve around my desire to hear. But, as I recently commented on Confessions of a Community College Dean: The unemployed have the leisure of time to ruminate.
It's been a rough week, to some extent. For me, rough means especially that I have to wait for something from someone. I hate to wait. One of my favorite songs has long been Franz Schubert's Ungeduld, as much for it's title as anything else.
I am constantly working out contingencies, and alternate plans, and laying out on the table all the life possibilities I can imagine. I have no problem considering these things. But I'm totally thrown off when something arises that I hadn't considered (even if it's something small, like my wife arriving home an hour later from work than planned... dinner is waylaid, movie night is delayed).
Mostly, however, I'm waiting for this journal to give me word on my article. Sure, it's not even been two weeks. But, of course, I have no way of knowing how long the process is expected to take. They've given me no time frame other than hope to be back in touch with you quite soon. And, that is only one thing I'm waiting for. More importantly (though my anticipation is guided by less hope at this point) are the remaining schools I've applied to. Even getting their curt we're pleased to announce the hiring of Dr. What-Do-You-Mean-You've-Never-Heard-Of-Me Google-Turns-Up-Nothing. Good luck in your career letters at least give me closure.
I know that I am not the center of everyone else's universe, that their sense of time does not revolve around my desire to hear. But, as I recently commented on Confessions of a Community College Dean: The unemployed have the leisure of time to ruminate.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Dependence/Independence
A couple days ago, I mentioned how Dr. TassePlein wished me to be a better student of institutions. There was more to it than that. He wanted me to be more aware of interpersonal politics. What leads someone to behave in a particular way towards or about another person?
Let me tell you a little story about one of your cohorts. You know TimidScholar, right? When he asks me for something, I think he's so fragile, so needy, that I want to take care of it right away. I don't feel that way about you. You come across as self-sufficient. That's good, but somehow you need to convince certain people over the next couple years that you're TimidScholar.
The point he made was that, if you come across as self-assured, and independent, this instills confidence in you, but doesn't motivate action. You need three people you can reliably depend upon to write your letters, to take care of you. You need them to feel that your career depends upon them. Not in a whiny way, but they need to feel a commitment and an obligation to your success.
For someone like me this is a constant struggle. I'm motivated not out of my status (though digging one's way out of a pit is quite motivating) but by my ideas. They drive me, which I admit sometimes leads me to overstep propriety, when I act as if, as if I have the power or authority to make things happen. Sometimes, this works; things do happen.
The summer after my second year as a PhD student, I organized and chaired a full-day (!) session at an international conference. Including myself, there were 10 scholars, from the USA and Europe. They ranged in status from independent scholars to emeritus full professors. They represented a variety of disciplines and methodological approaches to the question. They came for the simple reason that I asked them, that I had organized the panel.
The idea had come from a friend of mine, Dr. Virtuosity (who couldn't believe I'd actually done it). She had casually asked one day, as we were both bored at a conference, what would be my dream team for a panel? So, I compiled it, drafted a session proposal, invited them all. Most of them agreed. And it was accepted.
Yeah, sometimes it works. But... I still don't have a job. Something isn't working. Dr. TassePlein's comments bring me to understand that I am not so totally self-sufficient as I or others might believe. There is a hierarchy and a custom to academia. I need the involvement and support of others to succeed, which it's as important for them to realize as it is for me. So, no, I can't become TimidScholar, but I sure can cultivate some timidity in the midst of my temerity.
Let me tell you a little story about one of your cohorts. You know TimidScholar, right? When he asks me for something, I think he's so fragile, so needy, that I want to take care of it right away. I don't feel that way about you. You come across as self-sufficient. That's good, but somehow you need to convince certain people over the next couple years that you're TimidScholar.
The point he made was that, if you come across as self-assured, and independent, this instills confidence in you, but doesn't motivate action. You need three people you can reliably depend upon to write your letters, to take care of you. You need them to feel that your career depends upon them. Not in a whiny way, but they need to feel a commitment and an obligation to your success.
For someone like me this is a constant struggle. I'm motivated not out of my status (though digging one's way out of a pit is quite motivating) but by my ideas. They drive me, which I admit sometimes leads me to overstep propriety, when I act as if, as if I have the power or authority to make things happen. Sometimes, this works; things do happen.
The summer after my second year as a PhD student, I organized and chaired a full-day (!) session at an international conference. Including myself, there were 10 scholars, from the USA and Europe. They ranged in status from independent scholars to emeritus full professors. They represented a variety of disciplines and methodological approaches to the question. They came for the simple reason that I asked them, that I had organized the panel.
The idea had come from a friend of mine, Dr. Virtuosity (who couldn't believe I'd actually done it). She had casually asked one day, as we were both bored at a conference, what would be my dream team for a panel? So, I compiled it, drafted a session proposal, invited them all. Most of them agreed. And it was accepted.
Yeah, sometimes it works. But... I still don't have a job. Something isn't working. Dr. TassePlein's comments bring me to understand that I am not so totally self-sufficient as I or others might believe. There is a hierarchy and a custom to academia. I need the involvement and support of others to succeed, which it's as important for them to realize as it is for me. So, no, I can't become TimidScholar, but I sure can cultivate some timidity in the midst of my temerity.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
The hardest part
As Academic Coach relates, in a comment to A three year plan: ...it is difficult to stay on track with work when you are working in relative isolation. A-yup. But that's not the hardest part.
Of the things that Dr. TassePlein said during our talk on Saturday, the deepest comment, which I might easily have ignored, regards the nature of my research itself. His question went something like this: Are you doing something that others consider of central importance?
I think of the post My department is dreaming of a wedding from about a month ago, over at In Favor of Thinking. In discussing one particular job candidate, she wrote:
...one of the visitors ... was so fantastic that we are all ... completely in love with him. He's smart, accomplished, thoughtful, energetic, nice, good-looking -- basically he seems like a completely amazing person, who's perfect for this position. Fantasies abound about how he will revolutionize the way we approach a certain area, how he will help us do more hires in the future, how he will be a wonderful resource and colleague...
Let's dissect that a bit. What made him so amazing (by the way, I wonder if they snagged him)?
Smart: okay, we're all smart. Check.
Accomplished: okay, more articles, more presentations, etc. Check.
Thoughtful: we're back to the smart again. It's not a matter here of objective features, but how we come across. Still nothing out of the ordinary it would seem.
Energetic: Sure, got that.
nice, good-looking: Well... I leave off on this one.
But here's the clincher, I'd think: he will revolutionize the way we approach a certain area.
Eureka! There's the bull's-eye. There's concensus that he represents something innovative and needed. She goes on: he will be a wonderful resource and colleague.
This is the secret ingredient: to come across as someone with something to give that everyone needs.
Now, one approach would be to chase the next big thing, like a gambler at the roullete wheel, trying to guess if red 7 or black 13 will come up next. Or to focus one's energies on whatever seems to be the current big thing.
That's not my approach. I know what I do. I love what I do. These are my questions. The trick for me, the task at hand, is to forge that something into something big, to create enough buzz for my area of research that everyone starts thinking about it, wondering about it, and wanting it on their campus, in their department.
In a sense it's no different from a business approach that says I'll focus on getting the public interested in my service, not on competing with other businesses. If everyone needs what we have to offer, there'll surely be enough work for everyone. It's like Academic Coach's comment cited above. She went on to remark: I would recommend hiring a coach to meet with at least occasionally. My own private practice is full, so this is not self-promotion.
So, in the midst of beefing up my academic street cred, I need to be building my area of research. And that's just exactly what I plan to do.
Of the things that Dr. TassePlein said during our talk on Saturday, the deepest comment, which I might easily have ignored, regards the nature of my research itself. His question went something like this: Are you doing something that others consider of central importance?
I think of the post My department is dreaming of a wedding from about a month ago, over at In Favor of Thinking. In discussing one particular job candidate, she wrote:
...one of the visitors ... was so fantastic that we are all ... completely in love with him. He's smart, accomplished, thoughtful, energetic, nice, good-looking -- basically he seems like a completely amazing person, who's perfect for this position. Fantasies abound about how he will revolutionize the way we approach a certain area, how he will help us do more hires in the future, how he will be a wonderful resource and colleague...
Let's dissect that a bit. What made him so amazing (by the way, I wonder if they snagged him)?
Smart: okay, we're all smart. Check.
Accomplished: okay, more articles, more presentations, etc. Check.
Thoughtful: we're back to the smart again. It's not a matter here of objective features, but how we come across. Still nothing out of the ordinary it would seem.
Energetic: Sure, got that.
nice, good-looking: Well... I leave off on this one.
But here's the clincher, I'd think: he will revolutionize the way we approach a certain area.
Eureka! There's the bull's-eye. There's concensus that he represents something innovative and needed. She goes on: he will be a wonderful resource and colleague.
This is the secret ingredient: to come across as someone with something to give that everyone needs.
Now, one approach would be to chase the next big thing, like a gambler at the roullete wheel, trying to guess if red 7 or black 13 will come up next. Or to focus one's energies on whatever seems to be the current big thing.
That's not my approach. I know what I do. I love what I do. These are my questions. The trick for me, the task at hand, is to forge that something into something big, to create enough buzz for my area of research that everyone starts thinking about it, wondering about it, and wanting it on their campus, in their department.
In a sense it's no different from a business approach that says I'll focus on getting the public interested in my service, not on competing with other businesses. If everyone needs what we have to offer, there'll surely be enough work for everyone. It's like Academic Coach's comment cited above. She went on to remark: I would recommend hiring a coach to meet with at least occasionally. My own private practice is full, so this is not self-promotion.
So, in the midst of beefing up my academic street cred, I need to be building my area of research. And that's just exactly what I plan to do.
Monday, March 06, 2006
A three year plan
That's what Dr. TassePlein called for. He started by saying: You know, most people prefer success; but really failure is much better for us. We learn a lot more from failing. It gives us room to move, to improve.
He said I needed to think about just what I was willing to take, and what my needs were at the moment. Then, he said, You've got quite a few good things going for you. You're living in a beautiful place. And you've got a spouse who has a good job, and can support you. So, you've got to figure out whether you could remain in that place for a while, while you beef up your academic credentials.
Hmmm. So I said, well, the answer is: Yes! We could stay here, indefinitely it would seem. My wife's job appears secure (at least for the next few years) and her income is enough to support us. So, yes.
Good, then. So what you need is a 3 year plan. Let's suppose I came up with the TassePlein-MacArthur $150,000 3-year fellowship. What are you going to do? Sorry, he explained, he can't really come up with the 6-figure award. But the point was well taken.
Hmmm. In discussing it later with my wife (who seemed actually quite pleased and excited about the prospect of keeping her job for a while, and the thought of not having to move again anytime soon), I said we should just consider her making about 60% of her income, and the rest is a fellowship for me. That way, we'll both feel better. She is an engineer. Just take a look at the salary differential, and you'll get what I mean.
The point he made was that I'm in a really good position to not have to take whatever comes along, and not having to lower my standards and expectations. The right job will come for me. My job is to make it more and more difficult for anyone to ignore my application. Since I'm not dependent upon making income for us to meet our expenses, then I can take this time as an opportunity. If I start thinking like I'm on fellowship, I can use this time to my advantage, and get a leg up on my career, and a head-start on tenure.
So, while I will continue to apply for jobs, and continue to pursue adjunct and other possibilities, it's best if I take the attitude that this is a part of my career, rather than feeling waylaid. Most importantly, as Dr. TassePlein explained about the next big project: I should aim to be in the middle of it when I start a job. That means getting going on it now.
I've really got two projects: one this longitudinal study, for which I'm doing a thorough literature review; the second, an ongoing analysis that follows up on some of my dissertation work, and involves the development of a new methodology for comparative work between my two main disciplines.
None of this is really new. I've been working towards these goals over the past few weeks. What's new is a renewed vigor, and a more stable attitude toward the task. I like the idea of a three-year plan (taking into account the hopeful outcome that I'll actually be employed during that time). And I like the idea of viewing my time as being on a fellowship.
Sure, ideally the fellowship would be funded other than by my wife. I can and will continue to apply for fellowships and grants along with the faculty applications. But those things I can't control. What I do with what I have I can!
He said I needed to think about just what I was willing to take, and what my needs were at the moment. Then, he said, You've got quite a few good things going for you. You're living in a beautiful place. And you've got a spouse who has a good job, and can support you. So, you've got to figure out whether you could remain in that place for a while, while you beef up your academic credentials.
Hmmm. So I said, well, the answer is: Yes! We could stay here, indefinitely it would seem. My wife's job appears secure (at least for the next few years) and her income is enough to support us. So, yes.
Good, then. So what you need is a 3 year plan. Let's suppose I came up with the TassePlein-MacArthur $150,000 3-year fellowship. What are you going to do? Sorry, he explained, he can't really come up with the 6-figure award. But the point was well taken.
Hmmm. In discussing it later with my wife (who seemed actually quite pleased and excited about the prospect of keeping her job for a while, and the thought of not having to move again anytime soon), I said we should just consider her making about 60% of her income, and the rest is a fellowship for me. That way, we'll both feel better. She is an engineer. Just take a look at the salary differential, and you'll get what I mean.
The point he made was that I'm in a really good position to not have to take whatever comes along, and not having to lower my standards and expectations. The right job will come for me. My job is to make it more and more difficult for anyone to ignore my application. Since I'm not dependent upon making income for us to meet our expenses, then I can take this time as an opportunity. If I start thinking like I'm on fellowship, I can use this time to my advantage, and get a leg up on my career, and a head-start on tenure.
So, while I will continue to apply for jobs, and continue to pursue adjunct and other possibilities, it's best if I take the attitude that this is a part of my career, rather than feeling waylaid. Most importantly, as Dr. TassePlein explained about the next big project: I should aim to be in the middle of it when I start a job. That means getting going on it now.
I've really got two projects: one this longitudinal study, for which I'm doing a thorough literature review; the second, an ongoing analysis that follows up on some of my dissertation work, and involves the development of a new methodology for comparative work between my two main disciplines.
None of this is really new. I've been working towards these goals over the past few weeks. What's new is a renewed vigor, and a more stable attitude toward the task. I like the idea of a three-year plan (taking into account the hopeful outcome that I'll actually be employed during that time). And I like the idea of viewing my time as being on a fellowship.
Sure, ideally the fellowship would be funded other than by my wife. I can and will continue to apply for fellowships and grants along with the faculty applications. But those things I can't control. What I do with what I have I can!
Get famous!
Here's the first bit of advice that the Mentor (whom I'll call Dr. TassePlein) had for me: well, you could get famous.
After the chuckles, here's what he meant: Beef up the academic credentials.
After the chuckles, here's what he meant: Beef up the academic credentials.
- Publications (preferably in "A" journals).
- I spoke about the Journal of SOD.
- No self-pity, he said, you can't afford it.
- Not self-pity, I said, just wondering if it's the right venue.
- Look, the editors change every couple years. Here's the new editor: write to him and tell him what you've got in mind. I'm sure he'll give you feedback. But only send them your "A" work!
- Get your next project underway.
- Ideally, you will start your next job in the middle of some exciting research, not before it starts or after it's done.
- Get into the pecking order. Figure out what people need, and offer it to them.
- I need you to be a better student of institutions. Right now, you're at the bottom rung, whether you like it or not, whether it's fair or not. People want you to behave "keyed in to your status." You don't have to suppress you. Your an enthusiast, that's fine. You just have to figure out how to climb that ladder. The first step is getting into the pecking order, so someone outside sees you as inside. You don't want to be invisible, like a faculty spouse at a party. The only reason people talk to them (unless you have a personal interest) is because you want to get into the good graces of their spouse. So, talk to the department (and see if you can take on some task that no one wants).
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Mentoring update
No, of course, I didn't send my mentor the open letter posted here a couple days ago. Though, I suppose I could have.
But after the treatment from my former department chair, I did feel it necessary to touch base with my mentor. Yesterday morning, I forwarded him the email from the chair, and added some commentary and questions that were intended to provoke feedback. He responded quite promptly by email that perhaps we should talk on the phone. So we did, for nearly an hour.
It was quite productive and encouraging. My conversations with the mentor tend to be a series of loosely-connected tangents (I think it reflects both our personalities), so I always take notes, to make sure I've got some pithy bits to reflect more on. I don't think I'll blog too extensively about it now, because there's a lot there. Expect more commentary in the coming days.
He made it clear that he's committed to my success, and is available to me as much as I need him. The one thing that was absent from his comments, that I kept expecting, was any indication that I should hang it up, that I should reconsider my career goals, that I need to lower my expectations. Ultimately, those decisions are mine alone. But, his remarks were encouraging in that he sees my goals as realistic. Like I've said before, a few words is sometimes all it takes.
But after the treatment from my former department chair, I did feel it necessary to touch base with my mentor. Yesterday morning, I forwarded him the email from the chair, and added some commentary and questions that were intended to provoke feedback. He responded quite promptly by email that perhaps we should talk on the phone. So we did, for nearly an hour.
It was quite productive and encouraging. My conversations with the mentor tend to be a series of loosely-connected tangents (I think it reflects both our personalities), so I always take notes, to make sure I've got some pithy bits to reflect more on. I don't think I'll blog too extensively about it now, because there's a lot there. Expect more commentary in the coming days.
He made it clear that he's committed to my success, and is available to me as much as I need him. The one thing that was absent from his comments, that I kept expecting, was any indication that I should hang it up, that I should reconsider my career goals, that I need to lower my expectations. Ultimately, those decisions are mine alone. But, his remarks were encouraging in that he sees my goals as realistic. Like I've said before, a few words is sometimes all it takes.
Ah, but the question is... which one?
Taken today, at the local Botanic Gardens. I've realized that the signs that speak to us tell us more about ourselves than about metaphysics.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Here's your degree. NOW LEAVE!
If I believed in some sort of mystical metaphysics, I might conjure up some demon or god seeking to challenge me at this point in my life. I showed my wife my open letter to my mentor, which ends with the mantra "patience...". She remarked, you're getting a lot of practice for that these days. A-yup!
Yesterday: Gah! Okay, I started yesterday getting an undeserved parking ticket, which I had to appeal, and now I'm waiting for their response (which I almost expect to be complete disregard for reason, like a doubling of the fine which I shouldn't have to pay in the first place).
Then, in the afternoon, I sent an email to my former department chair, where I had applied for a university faculty fellowship, which permits recent PhD grads one or two years of half-time teaching/half-time research to help jump start their careers. I hadn't heard anything, and couldn't find a "decision by" date anywhere in the materials. The department chair is supposed to send the application along with a recommendation to the dean. The whole thing is paid for by the university president, so the department gets a free teacher and colleague out of it!
After I submitted the materials to the department chair in December, I emailed him for confirmation, and asked if there were any questions or concerns regarding my application materials. I received no response. So, a few days later, I stopped by his office on campus, to see if he had any issues. Nope! Got it fine. Everything's okay.
Actually, those couldn't have been his words. He never speaks more than 3 words at a time, bringing the grand total of words he has ever said to me, to about 27! In six years. But the brunt of his reaction when I stopped by was that nothing more was needed from me. Apparently that was because he must have tossed it all into the dust bin as soon as he received it.
Here was his reply:
I don't believe that faculty recommended to accept the fellowship proposal. I will check, but I believe that was the outcome, and I assumed you would have been notified. I am sorry if I slipped up if the obligation was mine.
Oh, gee, oh yeah... was that your job? What do you mean I don't believe the faculty recommended to accept? I think what it means is that he never did anything with my application. I suppose I could easily find out if such a vote ever took place, which I seriously doubt! But what's the point?
He and my dissertation chair had been rivals for the post of chair before I arrived on campus. My dissertation chair has left (and is now chair of his own department). Was I too naive to suppose that faculty rivalries would not be visited upon their unsuspecting former students? Was it naive for me to expect that a department that had granted me a PhD would actually have some commitment to my success?
So, I guess I'm on my own. No support from my former department. At least my dissertation chair/mentor is still writing me recommendations, and encouraging me (in his way).
Yesterday: Gah! Okay, I started yesterday getting an undeserved parking ticket, which I had to appeal, and now I'm waiting for their response (which I almost expect to be complete disregard for reason, like a doubling of the fine which I shouldn't have to pay in the first place).
Then, in the afternoon, I sent an email to my former department chair, where I had applied for a university faculty fellowship, which permits recent PhD grads one or two years of half-time teaching/half-time research to help jump start their careers. I hadn't heard anything, and couldn't find a "decision by" date anywhere in the materials. The department chair is supposed to send the application along with a recommendation to the dean. The whole thing is paid for by the university president, so the department gets a free teacher and colleague out of it!
After I submitted the materials to the department chair in December, I emailed him for confirmation, and asked if there were any questions or concerns regarding my application materials. I received no response. So, a few days later, I stopped by his office on campus, to see if he had any issues. Nope! Got it fine. Everything's okay.
Actually, those couldn't have been his words. He never speaks more than 3 words at a time, bringing the grand total of words he has ever said to me, to about 27! In six years. But the brunt of his reaction when I stopped by was that nothing more was needed from me. Apparently that was because he must have tossed it all into the dust bin as soon as he received it.
Here was his reply:
I don't believe that faculty recommended to accept the fellowship proposal. I will check, but I believe that was the outcome, and I assumed you would have been notified. I am sorry if I slipped up if the obligation was mine.
Oh, gee, oh yeah... was that your job? What do you mean I don't believe the faculty recommended to accept? I think what it means is that he never did anything with my application. I suppose I could easily find out if such a vote ever took place, which I seriously doubt! But what's the point?
He and my dissertation chair had been rivals for the post of chair before I arrived on campus. My dissertation chair has left (and is now chair of his own department). Was I too naive to suppose that faculty rivalries would not be visited upon their unsuspecting former students? Was it naive for me to expect that a department that had granted me a PhD would actually have some commitment to my success?
So, I guess I'm on my own. No support from my former department. At least my dissertation chair/mentor is still writing me recommendations, and encouraging me (in his way).
Friday, March 03, 2006
An open letter to my mentor
A la Wannabe PhD, but not quite. I won't likely send this. I think posting it here may serve.
An open letter to my mentor
Dear [Mentor]:
I'm feeling a need to chat a bit, to gain some guidance. I hope you will find the time to read this, and to respond.
The immediate impetus here is the issue of whether or not to renew my membership in the Society of Old Dinosaurs. I recall your comment regarding the job search: Don't get discouraged, it just may take a while to get things moving where you want them to be. And, I know you are right. Sure, some people get their first job straight out of grad school, but many just as inspiring folks languish for years before obtaining their first tenure-track post. It's not really about that.
But, the question to renew or not? stirs existential questions in me, regarding my staus in the field. As you may recall, when I applied to the [University of Paradise] in [OurSubdiscipline], I was a bit apprehensive about what area I should associate with, even to some extent what field. But your reassurances, and encouragement helped firm my resolve to come study with you. You actively recruited me, saying that [OurSubdiscipline] needed fresh ideas like the ones I presented.
I also remember in my second year, when I was feeling a bit discouraged, and considered seeking university approval to pursue an individualized interdisciplinary PhD, you kept me on the path. You said at the end of the day, you want a job, and there are no "interdisciplinary" departments. Stay in the program; it'll be fine. And it was. You encouraged me to draft up requests to emend the curriculum, to allow greater flexibility in my coursework, and you had them approved. And I wrote that dissertation, didn't I?
But just now I'm a bit back where I started. As they say: My jsme tu, kde jsme byli. I'm wondering whether this is my field and area at all. When I looked over the accepted papers for the SOD conference last October, I didn't find anything of interest. Sure, I didn't submit this past year. But I've not yet had a paper accepted there.
I told you I wrote this big article recently, and submitted it. But, I didn't send it to the Journal of SOD. I don't think I was too scared, just uncertain that it would be the right venue for my work, and figuring I'd rather have it published sooner, than set myself up for a long wait until they sent the manuscript back stamped not [OurSubdiscipline].
Perhaps it's not fair of me to assume a priori that it'd be turned down. But why do I feel this way about SOD? And if I do, is it really the place for me? More importantly, will I ever get a job in [OurSubdiscipline]? Okay, I guess it really is about that after all.
Patience... Don't get discouraged, it just may take a while to get things moving where you want them to be. Okay... okay.
Patience...
An open letter to my mentor
Dear [Mentor]:
I'm feeling a need to chat a bit, to gain some guidance. I hope you will find the time to read this, and to respond.
The immediate impetus here is the issue of whether or not to renew my membership in the Society of Old Dinosaurs. I recall your comment regarding the job search: Don't get discouraged, it just may take a while to get things moving where you want them to be. And, I know you are right. Sure, some people get their first job straight out of grad school, but many just as inspiring folks languish for years before obtaining their first tenure-track post. It's not really about that.
But, the question to renew or not? stirs existential questions in me, regarding my staus in the field. As you may recall, when I applied to the [University of Paradise] in [OurSubdiscipline], I was a bit apprehensive about what area I should associate with, even to some extent what field. But your reassurances, and encouragement helped firm my resolve to come study with you. You actively recruited me, saying that [OurSubdiscipline] needed fresh ideas like the ones I presented.
I also remember in my second year, when I was feeling a bit discouraged, and considered seeking university approval to pursue an individualized interdisciplinary PhD, you kept me on the path. You said at the end of the day, you want a job, and there are no "interdisciplinary" departments. Stay in the program; it'll be fine. And it was. You encouraged me to draft up requests to emend the curriculum, to allow greater flexibility in my coursework, and you had them approved. And I wrote that dissertation, didn't I?
But just now I'm a bit back where I started. As they say: My jsme tu, kde jsme byli. I'm wondering whether this is my field and area at all. When I looked over the accepted papers for the SOD conference last October, I didn't find anything of interest. Sure, I didn't submit this past year. But I've not yet had a paper accepted there.
I told you I wrote this big article recently, and submitted it. But, I didn't send it to the Journal of SOD. I don't think I was too scared, just uncertain that it would be the right venue for my work, and figuring I'd rather have it published sooner, than set myself up for a long wait until they sent the manuscript back stamped not [OurSubdiscipline].
Perhaps it's not fair of me to assume a priori that it'd be turned down. But why do I feel this way about SOD? And if I do, is it really the place for me? More importantly, will I ever get a job in [OurSubdiscipline]? Okay, I guess it really is about that after all.
Patience... Don't get discouraged, it just may take a while to get things moving where you want them to be. Okay... okay.
Patience...
Projection, hmmm... so what's really eating me?
I'm pissed. Yeah! I brought #1 to his gymnastics class, on campus... then dropped off the wife at work (we were running late). Then returned to campus, to find a parking spot. Last week, I got a $40 ticket on the van, since the permit they give parents of gymnastics students is only good for 20 minutes at a time. I paid it last week, it was really my fault (despite the fact that another parent had assured me that she'd been using hers for two years and never got a ticket). Okay, so I shouldn't trust other people, and I ought to just play by the rules. So I paid it. (Found out today she got a ticket last week also).
So, today, I walked straight from the parking spot to the pay machine and bought a permit for the whole day ($8), because the au pair was to come at 10:00 (which she did) to pick up the boys and swap vehicles, so I could park all day, then pick up the wife, and come home for dinner. So... what do I find, on the van, when we go out to swap vehicles? A ticket! 40 bucks again. No, I shouldn't have to pay it. See... there's a permit for that spot (you don't actually display them here, you just pay, and the computer is supposed to be updated). But apparently this meter jerk didn't look at his/her computer, just wrote a ticket, because that 20 minute permit is permanently displayed on my window. Aaaarrrrgh!
But, you know what? It's annoying, yeah. And I have to wait until tomorrow, when the webpay site is updated, so I can dispute it online, and I can't imagine that they won't okay the dispute, since I'll have the permit number with times and everything (including the spot number, which you have to input when you pay). But, it really hit a nerve with me. I don't know why. I realize when I fly off the handle like this, the blood pressure rises, and I get infuriated, there's usually something else eating me, that has nothing to do with the instigating event.
My knee hurts. It's lack of exercise I guess (mixed with overuse). I go from doing nothing, to riding my bike for an hour trip. So, it's been bothering me off and on for a couple months. I always sit cross-legged, so I guess that exacerbates it.
And, I've had the flu. But... I got this aticle done and out. (I guess the waiting in silence bugs me a bit, though rationally I realize I only submitted on Sunday, and it might be a few weeks before they get back to me.) And, the job search anxiety is starting to creep in a bit again.
This is my first day back on campus. I realize that there's really not much more for me here than there is at home, or the public library, or the toilet for that matter. I can read anywhere. Just need a pencil or a highlighter, or a pen and my notebook (if it's a library book).
I'm doing okay, really. I was saying to the au pair last night -- while trying to decide if I would finally go back to campus to work, leaving her and the boys in peace at home -- that I didn't really know what to do these days. Wise beyond her years (she's 19), she said, what do you mean? Work on that [longitudinal study] stuff. That's work! Gotta smile at that. Yeah. That's work. And that's on my list.
First, is more reading on this book for the review. Though, I think I should not plan to do that at the exclusion of everything else, as I have the past couple days. I don't work well that way, when I'm focusing on just one thing (unless, like with the dissertation during those final two weeks, the end goal is concretely clear). I think I'll mix and match, reading the book, reading some articles, bloggging, distracting.
I've got things to do, I know that. The hard part is consistently finding the motivation. At least, if I have a stack of papers to grade, I know there is something obvious (that I may be avoiding) that I can get back to. But, I'm awash in a sea of no deadlines. I can tell you, those of you lamenting too much work to do, too many papers to grade, too long departmental meetings, too boisterous search committee rancor, the grass over here ain't too green either!
In many ways, I've got it made. I am mostly free of financial worries (other than this stupid house that won't sell!). My wife is busy at work and well-paid; we've been good with our finances over the past several years (even the better part of a year that I was writing the disseration, and we were coasting off savings). It's not from inheritance I can assure you. Not that we're rich, by any stretch, but we're comfortable, living within our means.
But... I want to be a professor. I want to have that title, that recognition. I want to stand in front of a class again, and set those minds ablaze. I want to give conference talks, and invited lectures, and radio interviews. I'm anxious about it. No calls. Tick... tick... tick...
So, today, I walked straight from the parking spot to the pay machine and bought a permit for the whole day ($8), because the au pair was to come at 10:00 (which she did) to pick up the boys and swap vehicles, so I could park all day, then pick up the wife, and come home for dinner. So... what do I find, on the van, when we go out to swap vehicles? A ticket! 40 bucks again. No, I shouldn't have to pay it. See... there's a permit for that spot (you don't actually display them here, you just pay, and the computer is supposed to be updated). But apparently this meter jerk didn't look at his/her computer, just wrote a ticket, because that 20 minute permit is permanently displayed on my window. Aaaarrrrgh!
But, you know what? It's annoying, yeah. And I have to wait until tomorrow, when the webpay site is updated, so I can dispute it online, and I can't imagine that they won't okay the dispute, since I'll have the permit number with times and everything (including the spot number, which you have to input when you pay). But, it really hit a nerve with me. I don't know why. I realize when I fly off the handle like this, the blood pressure rises, and I get infuriated, there's usually something else eating me, that has nothing to do with the instigating event.
My knee hurts. It's lack of exercise I guess (mixed with overuse). I go from doing nothing, to riding my bike for an hour trip. So, it's been bothering me off and on for a couple months. I always sit cross-legged, so I guess that exacerbates it.
And, I've had the flu. But... I got this aticle done and out. (I guess the waiting in silence bugs me a bit, though rationally I realize I only submitted on Sunday, and it might be a few weeks before they get back to me.) And, the job search anxiety is starting to creep in a bit again.
This is my first day back on campus. I realize that there's really not much more for me here than there is at home, or the public library, or the toilet for that matter. I can read anywhere. Just need a pencil or a highlighter, or a pen and my notebook (if it's a library book).
I'm doing okay, really. I was saying to the au pair last night -- while trying to decide if I would finally go back to campus to work, leaving her and the boys in peace at home -- that I didn't really know what to do these days. Wise beyond her years (she's 19), she said, what do you mean? Work on that [longitudinal study] stuff. That's work! Gotta smile at that. Yeah. That's work. And that's on my list.
First, is more reading on this book for the review. Though, I think I should not plan to do that at the exclusion of everything else, as I have the past couple days. I don't work well that way, when I'm focusing on just one thing (unless, like with the dissertation during those final two weeks, the end goal is concretely clear). I think I'll mix and match, reading the book, reading some articles, bloggging, distracting.
I've got things to do, I know that. The hard part is consistently finding the motivation. At least, if I have a stack of papers to grade, I know there is something obvious (that I may be avoiding) that I can get back to. But, I'm awash in a sea of no deadlines. I can tell you, those of you lamenting too much work to do, too many papers to grade, too long departmental meetings, too boisterous search committee rancor, the grass over here ain't too green either!
In many ways, I've got it made. I am mostly free of financial worries (other than this stupid house that won't sell!). My wife is busy at work and well-paid; we've been good with our finances over the past several years (even the better part of a year that I was writing the disseration, and we were coasting off savings). It's not from inheritance I can assure you. Not that we're rich, by any stretch, but we're comfortable, living within our means.
But... I want to be a professor. I want to have that title, that recognition. I want to stand in front of a class again, and set those minds ablaze. I want to give conference talks, and invited lectures, and radio interviews. I'm anxious about it. No calls. Tick... tick... tick...
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