Once upon a time, way back in my last year of grad school, I had a campus interview at the American University of Foreign Parts. (Not its real name, obviously.) I don't know what I said or did in the phone interview to luck into a campus visit, apart from mentioning that I had been to a couple of countries that don't quite border Foreign Parts but are in the same general corner of the world, so I guess they figured I was at least halfway serious about the job. Which I was. But anyway, for some reason they paid my way to fly all the way out to Foreign Parts.
It was in the dead of winter and the air was hazy with smoke. I remember rows and rows of communist-era concrete apartment blocks, and old women selling sacks of potatoes and apples out of their cars by the roadside. And brightly colored frescoes in the porticoes of the church across the street from my hotel.
The student guide who showed me around the city asked me if I thought I could live there. I think I said yes, by which I meant I don't know, but I'd like to try.
As you've probably gathered already, I didn't get the chance; the department secretary told me they had an inside candidate, so I figured my odds were not good. It's probably just as well that I didn't, since it was a three-year contract position, so I would have been looking for work two years ago at the height of the job market crash. But I do wonder, now and again, what my life would have looked like if I had gotten the offer.
I think I might make it back to Foreign Parts this summer. (At any rate, I will certainly travel to at least one bordering country -- where I have never been, and always wanted to go; one of the big draws of the job in Foreign Parts was that Other Country was only a train ride away.) So I've been thinking a lot, these last few days, about what almost was, and wondering.
Showing posts with label job search. Show all posts
Showing posts with label job search. Show all posts
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
one nice thing about the academic job market
Four years ago:
visited 21 states (42%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or try another Douwe Osinga project
Today:
visited 32 states (64%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or try another Douwe Osinga project
It would be nice if fewer of them had been flying visits involving constant pressure to impress people, but one can't have everything.
ETA: I don't know why Maine keeps getting cut off, but the last time I tried to do this, it cut off the whole eastern third of the US, so I guess this version is an improvement. (I have not been to Maine, for the record.)
visited 21 states (42%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or try another Douwe Osinga project
Today:
visited 32 states (64%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or try another Douwe Osinga project
It would be nice if fewer of them had been flying visits involving constant pressure to impress people, but one can't have everything.
ETA: I don't know why Maine keeps getting cut off, but the last time I tried to do this, it cut off the whole eastern third of the US, so I guess this version is an improvement. (I have not been to Maine, for the record.)
Friday, December 26, 2008
Christmas / MLA good wishes
A belated merry Christmas to everyone who's reading this, and good luck to everyone who's headed out to MLA this weekend!
It occurs to me that in the Regency romance of the academic job market, I have become the Elder Sister Who Married the Poor Curate, and consequentially can be of no help whatsoever in bringing the younger ones Into Society. But you do have my very good wishes for a successful Season.
Or, to employ a somewhat less embarrasing comparison: may you have a fine three days of hunting, catch the deer, boar, fox, or knight of your choice, and have to exchange your winnings with nobody.
It occurs to me that in the Regency romance of the academic job market, I have become the Elder Sister Who Married the Poor Curate, and consequentially can be of no help whatsoever in bringing the younger ones Into Society. But you do have my very good wishes for a successful Season.
Or, to employ a somewhat less embarrasing comparison: may you have a fine three days of hunting, catch the deer, boar, fox, or knight of your choice, and have to exchange your winnings with nobody.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
what does it say about me...
... that I went off to look at the MLA job list as soon as it went live, despite the fact that I already have a job and have zero intention of applying for any other jobs this year?
It's like crack, I tell you. Crack. (Also, Swarthmore? St. John's? Not that they'd have me, but I am so tempted...)
Best of luck to all readers who are job-marketing this year. I don't envy you. Not really.
It's like crack, I tell you. Crack. (Also, Swarthmore? St. John's? Not that they'd have me, but I am so tempted...)
Best of luck to all readers who are job-marketing this year. I don't envy you. Not really.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Details, graduation, other stuff...
-- The rain stopped just long enough for graduation (and has now picked up again, in time to remind me to stay home because papers and final exams don't grade themselves). I knew only half a dozen or so of the graduating seniors, since most of my students here have been underclasspeople, but it was nice to have a bit of ceremony to provide a closing parenthesis to my year here. Opening Convocation (yesterday, a million years ago) was one of those "wow, I'm actually faculty now" moments for me, and this was another one; I still get a kick out of wearing the robes, even though I got the cheap off-the-rack ones and I envy the people who have floofy tams and colorful stripes.
-- So, the new place: It is a small public university in the South, with a pretty, historic campus and some interesting quirks; as such, it feels like my natural habitat, although it is definitely farther South than anywhere I've lived before. 4-4 load, small classes, a few more upper-level Ren lit courses on the books than there are at New SLAC; also, they have a real medievalist, so I don't have to be the Brit Lit to 1800 person. So all in all, it's got many of the traits I like about my current job, while it may be a better fit in the long run than New SLAC could ever be. It will be known here as Misnomer U., partly because it makes both "New SLAC" and "Last Chance Saloon" into misnomers, partly for a reason that is unbloggable because it would identify the place, but trust me, the nickname is apt.
-- The new town looks pleasant enough, from what I saw of it; it is significantly bigger than New SLAC Town (there are very few places smaller than New SLAC Town) but still quite walkable. It is, however, very much in the middle of nowhere -- the closest New City-sized places are two to three hours away -- and there seems to be, literally, no public transportation at all. This is not good news for those of us who hate and fear driving, but I guess I'll have to get used to it, and at least I have a car that isn't falling apart.
-- I've turned down or cancelled three interviews for one-year positions. I felt a bit iffy about this, since I don't yet have a written contract in hand, and one of them was a campus interview for what would have been a dream job if it were only tenure-track -- but I'm exhausted and burnt out from this whole process, and I just did not need that extra level of stress on finals week, and the folks at Dream SLAC needed to make a hire on a tight timeline with limited interview slots, so it was definitely the ethical thing to do. At least I have the ego boost of knowing that Dream SLAC thought I was campus-visit-worthy.
-- I was going to do a post about what I learned from my three years on the job market, but the more I think about it, I'm not sure I've learned that much at all. Only this: I returned, and saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all. And yet those accidents of time and chance determine the shape of the entire story when you tell it afterward, and in time you forget about them and think: I deserved this or It was meant to happen this way.
I keep wondering about the two other people who took PhD exams in Renaissance lit with me. I hope they've found something; they deserve it, and it's because of them that I'm all too aware that I had an unfair advantage at this game by virtue of being healthy, single, and debt-free. And so it goes. I suppose everyone has their share of unfair advantages and disadvantages, and by and large they balance each other. But I hope those two people made it through.
-- So, the new place: It is a small public university in the South, with a pretty, historic campus and some interesting quirks; as such, it feels like my natural habitat, although it is definitely farther South than anywhere I've lived before. 4-4 load, small classes, a few more upper-level Ren lit courses on the books than there are at New SLAC; also, they have a real medievalist, so I don't have to be the Brit Lit to 1800 person. So all in all, it's got many of the traits I like about my current job, while it may be a better fit in the long run than New SLAC could ever be. It will be known here as Misnomer U., partly because it makes both "New SLAC" and "Last Chance Saloon" into misnomers, partly for a reason that is unbloggable because it would identify the place, but trust me, the nickname is apt.
-- The new town looks pleasant enough, from what I saw of it; it is significantly bigger than New SLAC Town (there are very few places smaller than New SLAC Town) but still quite walkable. It is, however, very much in the middle of nowhere -- the closest New City-sized places are two to three hours away -- and there seems to be, literally, no public transportation at all. This is not good news for those of us who hate and fear driving, but I guess I'll have to get used to it, and at least I have a car that isn't falling apart.
-- I've turned down or cancelled three interviews for one-year positions. I felt a bit iffy about this, since I don't yet have a written contract in hand, and one of them was a campus interview for what would have been a dream job if it were only tenure-track -- but I'm exhausted and burnt out from this whole process, and I just did not need that extra level of stress on finals week, and the folks at Dream SLAC needed to make a hire on a tight timeline with limited interview slots, so it was definitely the ethical thing to do. At least I have the ego boost of knowing that Dream SLAC thought I was campus-visit-worthy.
-- I was going to do a post about what I learned from my three years on the job market, but the more I think about it, I'm not sure I've learned that much at all. Only this: I returned, and saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all. And yet those accidents of time and chance determine the shape of the entire story when you tell it afterward, and in time you forget about them and think: I deserved this or It was meant to happen this way.
I keep wondering about the two other people who took PhD exams in Renaissance lit with me. I hope they've found something; they deserve it, and it's because of them that I'm all too aware that I had an unfair advantage at this game by virtue of being healthy, single, and debt-free. And so it goes. I suppose everyone has their share of unfair advantages and disadvantages, and by and large they balance each other. But I hope those two people made it through.
Monday, May 5, 2008
because late-season miracles seem to be my specialty...
I have a job offer. It is tenure-track. I said yes.
That is all.
That is all.
Friday, April 11, 2008
to love that well which thou must leave ere long
"Have I told you this before?"
"No, we only met about half an hour ago."
"So little time to pass?" said Merlyn, and a big tear ran down to the end of his nose.
-- T. H. White
So it is April again. A chillier sort of April than the ones they have at home, with barer trees, but recognizably spring.
Three weeks of classes left. Two and a half, actually, since I have another campus interview coming up (apparently the phone interview on Tuesday did not go as badly as I thought it did), but at this point I have had SO many unsuccessful campus interviews that I'm not holding out a lot of hope. There is still a possibility of good news from the Last Chance Saloon (now the Second-Last-Chance Saloon, I guess), or I might be able to score a VAP or lecturer position somewhere. I was, after all, in exactly the same position this time last year. Late-season miracles seem to be my specialty.
If not -- well, I have a tentative offer of a summer adjunct position back in Parental City; the pay is peanuts, but the class sounds interesting, and it will, at least, delay my unceremonious exit from the profession by a couple of months. This is starting to seem like a good enough reason to take it.
For some reason, all the uncertainty seems to remind me, all too sharply, of how many things I love and value about this profession. I remember feeling this way last year, as well. I ought to know better. I know by now that the system is badly screwed up, that it's a lot of work for little reward, and that the compulsion that keeps desperate jobseekers checking the MLA list is not so very different from a gambling addiction. I know, also, that I'm not a particularly brilliant or inspiring teacher, although I hope I'm at least competent, and I have never cherished the illusion that anyone is interested in my scholarship except myself (and that's on a good day).
But, but, but. An uncertain and precarious future sharpens your focus. You notice the here and now, even in April (and I am used to April being a blur of paperwork and imperatives). Three students from the Honors seminar talking excitedly about their final project. Clusters of violets along the paths, and mornings that begin late enough to notice them. Showing Branagh's rendition of the St. Crispin's Day speech to students who have never seen it. If I never work in academia again, I want to remember these things.
If I never work in academia again, I'll be glad I had them.
"No, we only met about half an hour ago."
"So little time to pass?" said Merlyn, and a big tear ran down to the end of his nose.
-- T. H. White
So it is April again. A chillier sort of April than the ones they have at home, with barer trees, but recognizably spring.
Three weeks of classes left. Two and a half, actually, since I have another campus interview coming up (apparently the phone interview on Tuesday did not go as badly as I thought it did), but at this point I have had SO many unsuccessful campus interviews that I'm not holding out a lot of hope. There is still a possibility of good news from the Last Chance Saloon (now the Second-Last-Chance Saloon, I guess), or I might be able to score a VAP or lecturer position somewhere. I was, after all, in exactly the same position this time last year. Late-season miracles seem to be my specialty.
If not -- well, I have a tentative offer of a summer adjunct position back in Parental City; the pay is peanuts, but the class sounds interesting, and it will, at least, delay my unceremonious exit from the profession by a couple of months. This is starting to seem like a good enough reason to take it.
For some reason, all the uncertainty seems to remind me, all too sharply, of how many things I love and value about this profession. I remember feeling this way last year, as well. I ought to know better. I know by now that the system is badly screwed up, that it's a lot of work for little reward, and that the compulsion that keeps desperate jobseekers checking the MLA list is not so very different from a gambling addiction. I know, also, that I'm not a particularly brilliant or inspiring teacher, although I hope I'm at least competent, and I have never cherished the illusion that anyone is interested in my scholarship except myself (and that's on a good day).
But, but, but. An uncertain and precarious future sharpens your focus. You notice the here and now, even in April (and I am used to April being a blur of paperwork and imperatives). Three students from the Honors seminar talking excitedly about their final project. Clusters of violets along the paths, and mornings that begin late enough to notice them. Showing Branagh's rendition of the St. Crispin's Day speech to students who have never seen it. If I never work in academia again, I want to remember these things.
If I never work in academia again, I'll be glad I had them.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
post o' random opinions
1) Two-hour freshman comp classes are the worst idea ever. I completely suck at teaching them, but even if I didn't, they would still be a lousy idea. I don't think I have an attention span that long, at least not for freshman comp.
2) Phone interviews after four hours of teaching two-hour freshman comp classes are also a bad idea. And I really wanted that job, too. :(
3) It is April. There should be leaves on the trees already. I COMMAND YOU TO LEAF, DAMMIT.
4) Going to see a Shakespeare play with your students = awesome. Traveling six hours to see a Shakespeare play and assorted other Big City Things with your students = completely exhausting. Grading papers while away for the weekend with your students = SO not happening.
5) It is a really, really good thing that I can teach Henry V from memory. It is also good that I have lots of beer in the house. I think I may start drinking before class by the end of this week. I wish you could get Duck-Rabbit beer in this part of the country, because that would be completely appropriate.
6) If you type "appropirate" by mistake, you have probably already had too much to drink. And an unhealthy fixation on pirates in Renaissance drama.
7) If a student refers to a character named "Mistress Dollhouse" in the proposal for the final Shakespeare paper, or proposes to compare Shakespeare to soap operas, this cannot end well.
2) Phone interviews after four hours of teaching two-hour freshman comp classes are also a bad idea. And I really wanted that job, too. :(
3) It is April. There should be leaves on the trees already. I COMMAND YOU TO LEAF, DAMMIT.
4) Going to see a Shakespeare play with your students = awesome. Traveling six hours to see a Shakespeare play and assorted other Big City Things with your students = completely exhausting. Grading papers while away for the weekend with your students = SO not happening.
5) It is a really, really good thing that I can teach Henry V from memory. It is also good that I have lots of beer in the house. I think I may start drinking before class by the end of this week. I wish you could get Duck-Rabbit beer in this part of the country, because that would be completely appropriate.
6) If you type "appropirate" by mistake, you have probably already had too much to drink. And an unhealthy fixation on pirates in Renaissance drama.
7) If a student refers to a character named "Mistress Dollhouse" in the proposal for the final Shakespeare paper, or proposes to compare Shakespeare to soap operas, this cannot end well.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Cross-dressing! Pirates! Double bed-trick!
Conference paper went over decently well, I think. I must admit that at least three minutes of it were devoted to explaining the exceedingly complicated plot of The Fair Maid of the West, and I didn't even get to the part about castration (that will be my next conference paper, I think). But the rest of it had some semblance of an argument, and I met some Other People Who Are Excited About Heywood, which is such a rare experience that it makes me very happy indeed.
It's sort of weird being at a conference where I know next to nobody, and of the handful of names I do recognize, most of them are members of search committees that have rejected me, or are about to do so. (I haven't gotten the official word from my most recent campus visit, but the SC member who's here didn't even look me in the eye when I passed him, which is damning.) One of my office-mates from grad school is presenting tomorrow, and I'm going to her panel session if I can get up early enough, but I have yet to run into her.
I seem to have landed a nearly-impossible assignment for the teaching demo at Last Chance Saloon College (it is something highly specific, involving an author and a historical event that are way outside of my field, AND the instructions were incredibly confusing). Ugh. Since I seem to strike out even with schools that request teaching demos on topics that are right up my alley, I'm not holding out much hope for this one. (Also, why -- WHY -- does every school request something completely DIFFERENT for the demo class? Wouldn't it be great if the MLA could mandate that all teaching demos be, say, forty-five minutes long and on a short story, poem, or scene from a play of the candidate's choice?)
It's sort of weird being at a conference where I know next to nobody, and of the handful of names I do recognize, most of them are members of search committees that have rejected me, or are about to do so. (I haven't gotten the official word from my most recent campus visit, but the SC member who's here didn't even look me in the eye when I passed him, which is damning.) One of my office-mates from grad school is presenting tomorrow, and I'm going to her panel session if I can get up early enough, but I have yet to run into her.
I seem to have landed a nearly-impossible assignment for the teaching demo at Last Chance Saloon College (it is something highly specific, involving an author and a historical event that are way outside of my field, AND the instructions were incredibly confusing). Ugh. Since I seem to strike out even with schools that request teaching demos on topics that are right up my alley, I'm not holding out much hope for this one. (Also, why -- WHY -- does every school request something completely DIFFERENT for the demo class? Wouldn't it be great if the MLA could mandate that all teaching demos be, say, forty-five minutes long and on a short story, poem, or scene from a play of the candidate's choice?)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
on going home (maybe)
This was a good day. We had a rockin' discussion in the Shakespeare class, all about Falstaff's speech on honor, and whether there's ANY way to see the king's actions as honorable, and the implications of Hal's "if a lie may do thee grace" line, and whether Hal actually likes Falstaff. And a few people who haven't spoken all semester piped up. And I had a phone interview that led to an almost immediate invite for a campus interview, at a place I'll call Last Chance Saloon College.
I'd want the job in any case, since it looks like it will be positively my last shot at a tenure-track job this year, but Last Chance Saloon College also happens to be in the great state of ... uh, Basketball. In fact, it is only an hour-and-thirty-minute drive from the University of Basketball, and not that much farther from the Beloved Alma Mater.
I don't think I realized I was homesick until this very day, but I am. I miss crape myrtles and Virginia pines and homemade pecan pie from the farmer's market and the smell of the University of Basketball library, and I want it to be short-sleeve weather already instead of endless cold and rain. And I have a grand total of about four actual friends in the entire Midwest, as opposed to moderately friendly work-related acquaintances. That didn't bother me so much when I was hoping to be here for life and expecting that my new colleagues would eventually turn into friends, but for the last month it has felt very isolating.
So I want this job very much. And yet I have mixed feelings about wanting it so much: partly because I've had so many hopeful-seeming interviews that haven't led to anything, and partly because one of the reasons why I chose an uncertain VAP over a nice safe postdoc was that I'd lived my whole life in two adjacent states, and there were always people I knew from high school at college, and people from my college at grad school, and I'd never had the experience of starting over in a totally new place. And I wanted that adventure, and I've mostly enjoyed it and I'm glad I have had it. But I meant to make a go of it for longer than a year. So I think I'm discovering that I'm more of a homebody at heart than I thought I was, and I'm not sure I like knowing that, especially since I know this job is as yet only a very uncertain hope.
Well. Wish me luck at the Last Chance Saloon.
I'd want the job in any case, since it looks like it will be positively my last shot at a tenure-track job this year, but Last Chance Saloon College also happens to be in the great state of ... uh, Basketball. In fact, it is only an hour-and-thirty-minute drive from the University of Basketball, and not that much farther from the Beloved Alma Mater.
I don't think I realized I was homesick until this very day, but I am. I miss crape myrtles and Virginia pines and homemade pecan pie from the farmer's market and the smell of the University of Basketball library, and I want it to be short-sleeve weather already instead of endless cold and rain. And I have a grand total of about four actual friends in the entire Midwest, as opposed to moderately friendly work-related acquaintances. That didn't bother me so much when I was hoping to be here for life and expecting that my new colleagues would eventually turn into friends, but for the last month it has felt very isolating.
So I want this job very much. And yet I have mixed feelings about wanting it so much: partly because I've had so many hopeful-seeming interviews that haven't led to anything, and partly because one of the reasons why I chose an uncertain VAP over a nice safe postdoc was that I'd lived my whole life in two adjacent states, and there were always people I knew from high school at college, and people from my college at grad school, and I'd never had the experience of starting over in a totally new place. And I wanted that adventure, and I've mostly enjoyed it and I'm glad I have had it. But I meant to make a go of it for longer than a year. So I think I'm discovering that I'm more of a homebody at heart than I thought I was, and I'm not sure I like knowing that, especially since I know this job is as yet only a very uncertain hope.
Well. Wish me luck at the Last Chance Saloon.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
lameduckery
It's official. I am the VAP who didn't get the tenure-track job. There isn't much else to say, really. (Well, actually there is a hell of a lot I'd like to say, but it's better said in a less public venue.)
I saw this coming, as you've probably gathered from my last post; I saw it coming as soon as I saw the course eval numbers from last semester, actually. But it still stings like nothing else has ever stung except the breakup of romantic relationships, and I don't date any more precisely because I'm lousy at dealing with the emotional fallout. Apparently it is possible to get exactly the same fallout without actually having sex. Whee.
Going to fill out job apps now. And drink.
I saw this coming, as you've probably gathered from my last post; I saw it coming as soon as I saw the course eval numbers from last semester, actually. But it still stings like nothing else has ever stung except the breakup of romantic relationships, and I don't date any more precisely because I'm lousy at dealing with the emotional fallout. Apparently it is possible to get exactly the same fallout without actually having sex. Whee.
Going to fill out job apps now. And drink.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Translations, Part III: The Campus Interview
In lieu of actual news...
Preparations:
"Oh, sure, there are direct flights to East Podunk."
Once a day, at five o'clock in the morning, on Billy-Bob's Discount Airline and Bait Shop. You might want to double-check and make sure your seat is bolted down.
"You'll be staying at the Dewdrop Inn in West Podunk, and one of the faculty members will meet you for dinner at the hotel restaurant."
We try not to let the candidates actually see East Podunk until after they've signed a contract.
"Teaching demonstrations will be held in Professor Sawyer's class."
Professor Sawyer has just discovered a great new way to get his fence painted.
"You should prepare a fifty-minute lecture for an audience of students and faculty."
No students will show up. But that's OK, because you'll find out that our faculty can slouch, roll their eyes, and fall asleep in class with the best of them!
The Itinerary:
"Prep time for teaching demo"
One of the faculty members will let you sit in his office. By way of being friendly, he will also keep up a steady stream of small talk, which will force you to think up appropriate replies. This will continue until someone takes you to the classroom, precisely fifteen seconds before the demo is supposed to begin.
"Lunch with students"
Brush up on your campaign promises.
"Open Q and A session with faculty"
Stealth job talk.
"Chapel service (optional)"
You are not only expected to attend, but to brush up on the appropriate responses for the denomination with which the college is affiliated.
Small talk:
"Our best students here are as good as the best students anywhere."
Both of them. We try not to think about the others.
"The cost of living in East Podunk is great!"
There is nothing to buy and nowhere to go, so the university doesn't bother to pay us anything.
"What do you like to do for fun?"
Quick, name a hobby that isn't too weird and can be conducted in the middle of a mud flat! Cooking is good if you're a man, but probably too gender-stereotypical if you're a woman. Um, how's your chess game?
Talking with Administrators:
"Here at Podunk Land-Grant U., we are very oriented toward student satisfaction. I think it's very important to have a quantifiable way to assess satisfaction, don't you agree?"
If your evals drop below 4.8 out of 5, you're out.
"Have you thought about the possible impact of quantum physics upon Shakespeare studies?"
I am a physicist.
"What do you think of Stanley Greenfunkel?"
Look at me! I know all about the big names in your field!
"Er ... Stanley Greenfunkel?"
I am an idiot. I don't know the big names in my own field.
"Er ... Stephen Greenblatt?"
I am arrogant. I don't hesitate to correct the Dean.
Driving to the Airport:
"The committee was SO impressed with your research and your teaching demo! You're such an amazing candidate! I'm sure you'll be getting lots and lots of offers!"
One of them won't be from us.
Preparations:
"Oh, sure, there are direct flights to East Podunk."
Once a day, at five o'clock in the morning, on Billy-Bob's Discount Airline and Bait Shop. You might want to double-check and make sure your seat is bolted down.
"You'll be staying at the Dewdrop Inn in West Podunk, and one of the faculty members will meet you for dinner at the hotel restaurant."
We try not to let the candidates actually see East Podunk until after they've signed a contract.
"Teaching demonstrations will be held in Professor Sawyer's class."
Professor Sawyer has just discovered a great new way to get his fence painted.
"You should prepare a fifty-minute lecture for an audience of students and faculty."
No students will show up. But that's OK, because you'll find out that our faculty can slouch, roll their eyes, and fall asleep in class with the best of them!
The Itinerary:
"Prep time for teaching demo"
One of the faculty members will let you sit in his office. By way of being friendly, he will also keep up a steady stream of small talk, which will force you to think up appropriate replies. This will continue until someone takes you to the classroom, precisely fifteen seconds before the demo is supposed to begin.
"Lunch with students"
Brush up on your campaign promises.
"Open Q and A session with faculty"
Stealth job talk.
"Chapel service (optional)"
You are not only expected to attend, but to brush up on the appropriate responses for the denomination with which the college is affiliated.
Small talk:
"Our best students here are as good as the best students anywhere."
Both of them. We try not to think about the others.
"The cost of living in East Podunk is great!"
There is nothing to buy and nowhere to go, so the university doesn't bother to pay us anything.
"What do you like to do for fun?"
Quick, name a hobby that isn't too weird and can be conducted in the middle of a mud flat! Cooking is good if you're a man, but probably too gender-stereotypical if you're a woman. Um, how's your chess game?
Talking with Administrators:
"Here at Podunk Land-Grant U., we are very oriented toward student satisfaction. I think it's very important to have a quantifiable way to assess satisfaction, don't you agree?"
If your evals drop below 4.8 out of 5, you're out.
"Have you thought about the possible impact of quantum physics upon Shakespeare studies?"
I am a physicist.
"What do you think of Stanley Greenfunkel?"
Look at me! I know all about the big names in your field!
"Er ... Stanley Greenfunkel?"
I am an idiot. I don't know the big names in my own field.
"Er ... Stephen Greenblatt?"
I am arrogant. I don't hesitate to correct the Dean.
Driving to the Airport:
"The committee was SO impressed with your research and your teaching demo! You're such an amazing candidate! I'm sure you'll be getting lots and lots of offers!"
One of them won't be from us.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
impending doom
Does anyone else get filled with unspeakable dread every time they open their university e-mail account these days?
Sunday, December 30, 2007
MLA
So, I'm home. And trying to catch up on four days of Internet deprivation. Random bits 'n' bobs of MLA commentary, in no particular order:
-- First off, it was great meeting so many other bloggers, although I'm a little intimidated at how smart and witty and charismatic y'all are in person (I always worry that I am not really interesting enough to have a blog, but I'm pretty sure no one else at the table had this problem). Many thanks to Dr. Crazy for organizing the meet-up, and I'm sorry I couldn't stay later, because it was quite fun.
-- I did not go to any panel sessions this year. I feel kind of guilty about this, but they all seemed to be taking place while I had interviews, or too early in the morning, or during the blogger meet-up or my grad department's party.
-- Interviews. Tolerably OK for the most part, except for the Catholic SLAC where one of the search committee members grilled me for half an hour with highly specific and argumentative questions about my dissertation description, and then moved on after he had reduced me to a gibbering wreck but before I had managed to produce an adequate response to his latest objection to something I said, and I had to keep glancing at my watch the whole time because I had another interview an hour later, so I probably came across as horribly disinterested. Those Jesuits, man, they're tricky. Actually, this was the first year where a significant number of interviewers wanted to talk about research in any depth, and I don't think I talk about research nearly as well as I talk about teaching (I've had more practice at the latter), but it was kind of flattering to meet people who seemed to be interested in my work, even when they were a shade too interested.
... Oh yeah, and there was the one where I knocked on the door too early and they were still finishing up with the last candidate, who happened to be an AP scoring buddy of mine. I think I handled it reasonably well ("He's a great guy, and if you don't hire me, you should hire him"), but it was still kind of awkward.
... And the one where I went to the wrong hotel. I mean, seriously, who the hell puts TWO Embassy Suiteses (Embassies Suite?) right around the corner from each other, and THEN calls them the "Embassy Suites Downtown" and the "Embassy Suites Downtown - Lakefront?) That's just asking for trouble, especially when only one of them is marked on the map that comes with the conference brochure, and it is the wrong one.
Apart from that, they were OK, and I don't think I really choked on any of them, although my energy was definitely running low for the late-afternoon ones.
-- I can't believe they put the interview area in an actual pit! Really, going down that second escalator was like descending into Hades. Whose idea was that?
-- Yay for deep-discounted and free books! And free wine. The book exhibit is the Best Amenity Ever. Pretty good haul this year -- I splurged on my own copy of Deloney's The Gentle Craft and Approaches to Teaching Renaissance Drama, which looks really awesome. And the freebies included advance proofs of the new Ursula LeGuin, as well as something called How Not to Write a Novel, which was hilarious (and gives me hope that my own unfinished magnum opus might not be too awful, after all).
-- The University of Basketball had its usual crowded hotel-room party (this time in a room with a mini-fridge, which feels like a step up in the world; usually they keep the beer in the bathtub). A bunch of the current grad students were there, as well as 3/5 of my dissertation committee (and let me tell you, it is weird being hugged by former committee members, especially if they are male). It's also kind of weird being asked over and over when you're going to turn the dissertation into a book, and told it would make a great book, when you don't actually have the slightest inclination to do anything of the sort. I mean yeah, it's good that they think well of my work, but I had the hardest time explaining to Committee Member Hosting the Party that I like having a job with a 4-3 teaching load and no expectation that I will ever write a book unless I feel like it, and I consider this lack-of-expectation a perk. I get the sense that they do understand I'm happy with the new job, and they're happy for me, but still slightly bemused.
-- First off, it was great meeting so many other bloggers, although I'm a little intimidated at how smart and witty and charismatic y'all are in person (I always worry that I am not really interesting enough to have a blog, but I'm pretty sure no one else at the table had this problem). Many thanks to Dr. Crazy for organizing the meet-up, and I'm sorry I couldn't stay later, because it was quite fun.
-- I did not go to any panel sessions this year. I feel kind of guilty about this, but they all seemed to be taking place while I had interviews, or too early in the morning, or during the blogger meet-up or my grad department's party.
-- Interviews. Tolerably OK for the most part, except for the Catholic SLAC where one of the search committee members grilled me for half an hour with highly specific and argumentative questions about my dissertation description, and then moved on after he had reduced me to a gibbering wreck but before I had managed to produce an adequate response to his latest objection to something I said, and I had to keep glancing at my watch the whole time because I had another interview an hour later, so I probably came across as horribly disinterested. Those Jesuits, man, they're tricky. Actually, this was the first year where a significant number of interviewers wanted to talk about research in any depth, and I don't think I talk about research nearly as well as I talk about teaching (I've had more practice at the latter), but it was kind of flattering to meet people who seemed to be interested in my work, even when they were a shade too interested.
... Oh yeah, and there was the one where I knocked on the door too early and they were still finishing up with the last candidate, who happened to be an AP scoring buddy of mine. I think I handled it reasonably well ("He's a great guy, and if you don't hire me, you should hire him"), but it was still kind of awkward.
... And the one where I went to the wrong hotel. I mean, seriously, who the hell puts TWO Embassy Suiteses (Embassies Suite?) right around the corner from each other, and THEN calls them the "Embassy Suites Downtown" and the "Embassy Suites Downtown - Lakefront?) That's just asking for trouble, especially when only one of them is marked on the map that comes with the conference brochure, and it is the wrong one.
Apart from that, they were OK, and I don't think I really choked on any of them, although my energy was definitely running low for the late-afternoon ones.
-- I can't believe they put the interview area in an actual pit! Really, going down that second escalator was like descending into Hades. Whose idea was that?
-- Yay for deep-discounted and free books! And free wine. The book exhibit is the Best Amenity Ever. Pretty good haul this year -- I splurged on my own copy of Deloney's The Gentle Craft and Approaches to Teaching Renaissance Drama, which looks really awesome. And the freebies included advance proofs of the new Ursula LeGuin, as well as something called How Not to Write a Novel, which was hilarious (and gives me hope that my own unfinished magnum opus might not be too awful, after all).
-- The University of Basketball had its usual crowded hotel-room party (this time in a room with a mini-fridge, which feels like a step up in the world; usually they keep the beer in the bathtub). A bunch of the current grad students were there, as well as 3/5 of my dissertation committee (and let me tell you, it is weird being hugged by former committee members, especially if they are male). It's also kind of weird being asked over and over when you're going to turn the dissertation into a book, and told it would make a great book, when you don't actually have the slightest inclination to do anything of the sort. I mean yeah, it's good that they think well of my work, but I had the hardest time explaining to Committee Member Hosting the Party that I like having a job with a 4-3 teaching load and no expectation that I will ever write a book unless I feel like it, and I consider this lack-of-expectation a perk. I get the sense that they do understand I'm happy with the new job, and they're happy for me, but still slightly bemused.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
and so this is Christmas...
So, yeah. Another year, another big family Christmas. I hate watching my grandparents get older and frailer, especially since there are no new babies or children to counterbalance things. My younger cousins are all in college now, here for a flying visit before running off to pursue their own interests, and I keep feeling like I ought to get married and have a baby, or ought to have done so years ago. This is a stupid idea for an almost infinite number of reasons, but I miss having kids around, and I miss all the silly things you only do at Christmas if there are kids, such as having a big tree with garish felt ornaments and waking up early in the morning to watch them turn the stockings inside out. I miss the noise and the cheerful chaos of my childhood Christmases. I miss Aunt Anna's pierogi (she has been dead for eleven years, and I never learned to make them very well; I stick to cookies and fudge). I miss not being aware of aging and mortality; I miss taking it for granted that I will have children of my own someday, and not wondering and worrying about whether it will ever happen. Sigh. Early-thirties terminally-single angst, I guess.
Another MLA. This will be my third, and some of the excitement has worn off, although it is nice to know what to expect (mostly, that no one I meet there will ever call me again). All the same, I have to admit I kind of like the MLA, even though nobody else does. (My mom brought me to a cocktail party there when I was seven months old and she was a desperate jobseeker; I think this experience warped me for life.) Anyway, the book exhibit always throws me into paroxysms of geeky joy, and, I dunno, there's just something cool about being surrounded by thousands and thousands of English professors. I'm like, hey, these are my people. And I get to say hello to the ones from the Beloved Alma Mater, which is nice.
Uh, yeah. Warped. For life, I tell you. Mothers, don't take your babies to the MLA.
Hope to see some of y'all there!
Another MLA. This will be my third, and some of the excitement has worn off, although it is nice to know what to expect (mostly, that no one I meet there will ever call me again). All the same, I have to admit I kind of like the MLA, even though nobody else does. (My mom brought me to a cocktail party there when I was seven months old and she was a desperate jobseeker; I think this experience warped me for life.) Anyway, the book exhibit always throws me into paroxysms of geeky joy, and, I dunno, there's just something cool about being surrounded by thousands and thousands of English professors. I'm like, hey, these are my people. And I get to say hello to the ones from the Beloved Alma Mater, which is nice.
Uh, yeah. Warped. For life, I tell you. Mothers, don't take your babies to the MLA.
Hope to see some of y'all there!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Translations, Part II
It's been a while since I've done a job market post. The news is mostly good, but unbloggable. So, in lieu of actual information, have some pointless snark.
The MLA or phone interview:
"Tell us about your dissertation."
I don't remember which one you are, and I can't look it up because my daughter used the cover letters to line the birdcage.
"What attracts you to Podunk Land-Grant University?"
Are you fleeing a scandal, or are you just very fond of mud flats?
"Oh, I think mud flats are fascinating!"
I want a job, dammit. I don't care where.
"What are your greatest weaknesses as a teacher and as a scholar?"
Please eviscerate yourself for the search committee's amusement.
"I'm a perfectionist."
I'm a bullshitter.
"Here at Malcolm X College, we are very interested in diversity. How would you support this important value of ours?"
Do you freak out around black people?
"Here at Lars Oleson and Olaf Larson College of Minnesota, we are very interested in diversity. How would you support this important value of ours?"
Please don't be white. If you have to be white, please don't be Lutheran.
"I think diversity comes in many forms. You can have geographic diversity, socioeconomic diversity, diversity of interests and experiences. At a college in Minnesota, to take a hypothetical example, a Southern person might be very diverse..."
I am a heterosexual white person. I cannot help you. But I do know how to make red velvet cake!
"How do you see yourself fitting in with the mission and values of our college?"
Do you accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior?
"How would you teach an Intro to the Humanities lecture course, covering art, music, literature, and theater from 800 BCE to the present, incorporating multicultural perspectives, to a group of 50 to 75 remedial students who don't want to be there?"
Are YOU Jesus Christ and our personal savior?
"With a population like that, my philosophy is that you meet the students where they are, and take them where they need to be."
I'd show a lot of movies.
"Do you think all English majors should be required to take a Shakespeare class?"
The other committee members and I are on opposite sides of a bitter dispute about this. Whatever you say, it will offend at least one of us.
"What do you like to do for fun?"
Are you a weirdo?
"I do a bit of creative writing."
I write fanfiction. About my dissertation texts.
"Have you got any questions for us?"
You MUST MUST MUST ask a question! Otherwise, you will never find the Holy Grail! But it must be a safe question. Oh, and you don't get to find out which questions the safe ones are until after you're hired, but don't let that stop you.
"Tell me about your students."
I am boring, but at least I won't embarrass you in public.
"You can expect to hear from us by the second week in January."
You will never hear from us again.
The MLA or phone interview:
"Tell us about your dissertation."
I don't remember which one you are, and I can't look it up because my daughter used the cover letters to line the birdcage.
"What attracts you to Podunk Land-Grant University?"
Are you fleeing a scandal, or are you just very fond of mud flats?
"Oh, I think mud flats are fascinating!"
I want a job, dammit. I don't care where.
"What are your greatest weaknesses as a teacher and as a scholar?"
Please eviscerate yourself for the search committee's amusement.
"I'm a perfectionist."
I'm a bullshitter.
"Here at Malcolm X College, we are very interested in diversity. How would you support this important value of ours?"
Do you freak out around black people?
"Here at Lars Oleson and Olaf Larson College of Minnesota, we are very interested in diversity. How would you support this important value of ours?"
Please don't be white. If you have to be white, please don't be Lutheran.
"I think diversity comes in many forms. You can have geographic diversity, socioeconomic diversity, diversity of interests and experiences. At a college in Minnesota, to take a hypothetical example, a Southern person might be very diverse..."
I am a heterosexual white person. I cannot help you. But I do know how to make red velvet cake!
"How do you see yourself fitting in with the mission and values of our college?"
Do you accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior?
"How would you teach an Intro to the Humanities lecture course, covering art, music, literature, and theater from 800 BCE to the present, incorporating multicultural perspectives, to a group of 50 to 75 remedial students who don't want to be there?"
Are YOU Jesus Christ and our personal savior?
"With a population like that, my philosophy is that you meet the students where they are, and take them where they need to be."
I'd show a lot of movies.
"Do you think all English majors should be required to take a Shakespeare class?"
The other committee members and I are on opposite sides of a bitter dispute about this. Whatever you say, it will offend at least one of us.
"What do you like to do for fun?"
Are you a weirdo?
"I do a bit of creative writing."
I write fanfiction. About my dissertation texts.
"Have you got any questions for us?"
You MUST MUST MUST ask a question! Otherwise, you will never find the Holy Grail! But it must be a safe question. Oh, and you don't get to find out which questions the safe ones are until after you're hired, but don't let that stop you.
"Tell me about your students."
I am boring, but at least I won't embarrass you in public.
"You can expect to hear from us by the second week in January."
You will never hear from us again.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
So.
Think interview was neither great nor awful. At any rate, it is Out of My Hands, and that at least is one fewer thing to worry about.
They do not prepare you in grad school for things like having the student member on the search committee ask you questions about the class she's taking with you right now. (Actually, they don't prepare you in grad school for having undergrads on the search committee at all. I keep thinking I should do a whole post about the things your grad school professors won't tell you about interviewing at smaller colleges, except I feel like I should actually get a t-t job before I take it upon myself to dispense advice.)
They do not prepare you in grad school for things like having the student member on the search committee ask you questions about the class she's taking with you right now. (Actually, they don't prepare you in grad school for having undergrads on the search committee at all. I keep thinking I should do a whole post about the things your grad school professors won't tell you about interviewing at smaller colleges, except I feel like I should actually get a t-t job before I take it upon myself to dispense advice.)
Monday, November 26, 2007
Too. Much. Happening. At. Once.
I have a phone interview for the t-t job at New SLAC. Tomorrow. This is both very good and very ill-timed, as it comes right on the heels of two hours of student conferences for freshman comp, and right before New Colleague's Poetry Reading. And this afternoon, the secretary dumped a pile of writing proficiency exams that need to be scored ASAP in my lap, and the day after tomorrow, I teach Modern American Play That I Have Never Taught Before And Have No Idea How To Teach As Yet.
OK, I have known about this interview for almost a week, so I have theoretically had time to prepare, but dammit, it doesn't count as time if it's over Thanksgiving break!
Clearly, this is the crazy season, and I need to remember that the craziness lifts right around the second week of December and there is a great stillness, and then Christmas. A comforting rhythm. Interrupted by the redoubled craziness of the MLA, these last few years, but at least it's a pause for breath. I remember going for long walks during exam week when I was an undergrad, and being amazed at how suddenly all the deadlines had gone away. I need a long walk now.
Also, one of the writing exams referred to "playing bad mitten," which is one of the more adorable misspellings I have come across. BAD mitten!
Breathe. The day after the day after tomorrow is another day.
OK, I have known about this interview for almost a week, so I have theoretically had time to prepare, but dammit, it doesn't count as time if it's over Thanksgiving break!
Clearly, this is the crazy season, and I need to remember that the craziness lifts right around the second week of December and there is a great stillness, and then Christmas. A comforting rhythm. Interrupted by the redoubled craziness of the MLA, these last few years, but at least it's a pause for breath. I remember going for long walks during exam week when I was an undergrad, and being amazed at how suddenly all the deadlines had gone away. I need a long walk now.
Also, one of the writing exams referred to "playing bad mitten," which is one of the more adorable misspellings I have come across. BAD mitten!
Breathe. The day after the day after tomorrow is another day.
Monday, November 19, 2007
more job-searchy stuff
Whew, I'm done. Forty-one applications, I think. I amused myself during office hours by making a map of all the places I might be living next year, but I couldn't figure out how to post it without cutting off the eastern third of the country. Anyway, twenty-five different states.
I have never been to twelve of these states. Well, I've sort of been through Ohio, but not in a way that counts. You toss the dice and see where they fall, I guess.
I got to visit some interesting places last year, including one foreign country, so that was cool. Keep your fingers crossed I get to add a few more states to the life-list after this is over.
Is anybody else getting super-twitchy when they refresh their e-mail?
I have never been to twelve of these states. Well, I've sort of been through Ohio, but not in a way that counts. You toss the dice and see where they fall, I guess.
I got to visit some interesting places last year, including one foreign country, so that was cool. Keep your fingers crossed I get to add a few more states to the life-list after this is over.
Is anybody else getting super-twitchy when they refresh their e-mail?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
VAP's Dilemma; or, Yet Another Boring Job Market Post
So, this is my third year on the market. The first time around, I had a half-finished dissertation and no clue what I was doing, so I applied to fifty-odd jobs in the hope that some of them would stick. The second time, I was in a blind panic and applied for every early modern or generalist job on the table, interviewed every which way, and finally ended up in a visiting position here at New SLAC, after one of those fabled late-April miracles.
This year is different. Among other things, they say it's easier to get a job when you have a job, but I'm not sure yet how much easier it is. Then, too, the flip side is that it's a lot harder to apply for jobs when you already have a job, particularly if that job is at a SLAC that emphasizes faculty involvement in the life of the campus, whatever that means. Do I go to the English club meeting, or use the time to revise the teaching statement? Spend the weekend being convivial with the new colleagues, or send applications?
Mostly, I've chosen to put New SLAC stuff first -- partly because I think I have a better shot at being hired for a t-t job here than I do at a place where they've never heard of me before, but mostly because it's what I genuinely want to do. I like this job and I like hanging out with the people here, and I have an uneasy feeling that this, too, is a trap, because for all I know they don't like me enough to hire me for the tenure-track position, and it's best not to get your heart set on any particular job. But I'm here, and this is my life right now, so how am I supposed to not get attached to it?
At this point, it looks like I've definitely caught the attention of a couple of search committees, both at other SLACs that look like they would be quite decent places to work, one of which is in a cool and interesting if rather troubled city. And what worries me is that I should be excited about having one MLA interview lined up and another strong expression of interest this early in the season -- this time last year I would have been jumping for joy -- and this time around I'm not all that excited about these two unknown schools, more worried that I haven't heard anything from the search chair at New SLAC yet. Last year I was all about the great leaps into the unknown, and this year it's like my inner two-year old is stamping her feet and howling "Don't WANNA go anywhere!"
Well -- things will get resolved, one way or another, and in a way it's a comfort to know that so much of the process is out of my hands. It's a bit like getting on the bus in a strange city and seeing where the driver takes you, which is the very best way to take buses, except when you end up at the landfill. (Uh, I'm not sure this analogy is all that comforting after all. Never mind. It's late and I'm tired.)
This year is different. Among other things, they say it's easier to get a job when you have a job, but I'm not sure yet how much easier it is. Then, too, the flip side is that it's a lot harder to apply for jobs when you already have a job, particularly if that job is at a SLAC that emphasizes faculty involvement in the life of the campus, whatever that means. Do I go to the English club meeting, or use the time to revise the teaching statement? Spend the weekend being convivial with the new colleagues, or send applications?
Mostly, I've chosen to put New SLAC stuff first -- partly because I think I have a better shot at being hired for a t-t job here than I do at a place where they've never heard of me before, but mostly because it's what I genuinely want to do. I like this job and I like hanging out with the people here, and I have an uneasy feeling that this, too, is a trap, because for all I know they don't like me enough to hire me for the tenure-track position, and it's best not to get your heart set on any particular job. But I'm here, and this is my life right now, so how am I supposed to not get attached to it?
At this point, it looks like I've definitely caught the attention of a couple of search committees, both at other SLACs that look like they would be quite decent places to work, one of which is in a cool and interesting if rather troubled city. And what worries me is that I should be excited about having one MLA interview lined up and another strong expression of interest this early in the season -- this time last year I would have been jumping for joy -- and this time around I'm not all that excited about these two unknown schools, more worried that I haven't heard anything from the search chair at New SLAC yet. Last year I was all about the great leaps into the unknown, and this year it's like my inner two-year old is stamping her feet and howling "Don't WANNA go anywhere!"
Well -- things will get resolved, one way or another, and in a way it's a comfort to know that so much of the process is out of my hands. It's a bit like getting on the bus in a strange city and seeing where the driver takes you, which is the very best way to take buses, except when you end up at the landfill. (Uh, I'm not sure this analogy is all that comforting after all. Never mind. It's late and I'm tired.)
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