The campus visit is a very, very strange process. As far as I know, it is a unique process in that it is so sustained and takes so much performing on the part of the candidate. I had a few of what I call "shining moments" when I really felt like I was myself; otherwise, I felt that it was my duty to conceal much of what I consider my identity. And this is a struggle for me.
In retrospect, I wonder if perhaps they have already found their ideal candidate, and simply could not back out of having me up. . . But perhaps I am taking things too seriously, or perhaps I am misreading bad manners or unprofessional behavior. I will also say that I am a little bit shy in unfamiliar circumstances. Mr. D'Arcy's statement to Elizabeth in the BBC version, "We neither of us perform to strangers," comes to mind. But I am not a lively conversationalist at first meeting in unfamiliar circumstances, and I never felt sufficiently at ease to open up. I had a beer at dinner, but I get ahead of myself.
The adventure started on Tuesday--the day spent on airplanes and at airports. My agony at leaving my babies--their surprising ability to take it all in stride. While I was trying to figure out how to pay for the plane ticket, in the 2-3 days I delayed between being invited to campus and booking the flight through Travelocity, the price jumped over $500 and I had to settle for 2 stops going. I flew into Dallas first, then Chicago, then on to my final destination and small nominally Catholic midwest college. In Chicago, I learned that my flight, scheduled to arrive at my destination for 5:45, had been cancelled about 30 minutes before I was supposed to board. Originally, I received a phone message telling me that they had rescheduled for the next morning at 8. I stood in line for what seemed like an hour so that I could be transferred to another airline's flight, arriving at 8:15. As soon as I knew the updated flight information, I called the department head who interviewed me and informed her that I would be arriving late. The result? Well, by the time I would arrive, the professor who was to pick me up would surely have gone home, so I could call for the hotel shuttle when I arrived. So my initial impression? I have been downgraded from a warm greeting and casual supper to "fend for yourself." Perhaps this might have been unjust had I not known that the professor in question did not have, for example, the family obligations that I would have in her place. She may or may not have a partner, but she does not have children.
I did find the shuttle, which was coming for some business men and would certainly have left without me had I not opted to wait in the 37 degree weather. It was windy and refreshing after the day of stuffy compartments and terminal after terminal. I reached the hotel--very plush--called home, and then decided to order food if it was still available. It was. I had a lovely burger and an even lovelier draft Guiness. It was the high point of my visit. I charged the food to the room and paid for the Guiness myself.
I was picked up from the hotel at about 8:45 the next morning by one of the committee members--the only male on the committee, and the only remaining male in the department after the ostracized member of the department, whom I did not meet, retires. I do not make good small talk in the morning. I was also unable to find out much information about the members of this department, who have not published widely. However, to my credit, I did manage. I fell silent perhaps more often than others would have. Repeatedly throughout the day, I was asked if I had any questions. I didn't. I rather came to have my impressions confirmed or refuted. I feel as though I should have had questions. I had some, but they were incredibly focused--very, very specific. And they did not lend themselves to small talk.
About a week and a half before the visit was scheduled, I was sent a packet of information about the town and the school. Included were two department publications, an undergraduate literary magazine and a spiral-bound book of student essays. I skimmed the literary mag, read the bios of the student contributers, and devoted most of my plane journey on Tuesday to reading the essays. Immediately it became apparent that the essays were, with only 2 exceptions, angry second-wave feminist readings of texts. They were ambitious in a way, except that the theory so obviously proceeded from the faculty rather than from any conviction on the part of the students, and they were poorly executed. The one essay that gave a Christian perspective on a work of literature was very well executed, though perhaps less ambitious, and tied for third place. I wondered about the focus of the issue, and determined to ask about it.
The first stop on my visit was the inquisitorial squad--the 4 department members in good standing. While I was waiting for them to arrive, I glanced out of the window and noticed stained glass windows below me. I asked if it was a chapel, and was told that it had been, but was now the place where the choir practiced. There was a new chapel built in the 1970s. The room itself had a long table. I sat nearer the windows, and the first 3 members arrayed themselves on the opposite side of the table. A joke was made about it. the fourth sat on my side when she finally arrived. The dress was decidedly casual--faded button-down shirts and jeans were apparently the order of the day.
So I was questioned. I don't remember too much of this part. I was asked a number of questions about teaching. I was asked to talk about my dissertation. Especially in relation to teaching. I didn't really know what to say, and I'm afraid I may have rambled. Teaching was much easier for me to address for some reason. In all, I felt okay about it. I don't think I screwed anything up in any kind of significant way. I was asked for the first time about how would teach a "gen ed" class vs. majors, and I said that I wouldn't approach it differently, I would simply provide more context. I would still ask challenging questions. And though I didn't say it, I think I conveyed that I would still have high standards.
My turn came for questions. I didn't have many. Perhaps I should have. But I asked about the book of essays. I asked about the fact that the dominant critical perspective was feminist, and whether this derived from a particular course, or whether it was a point of view that predominated in the courses taught in the department. And I put them on the defensive--the male member of the committee in particular. Oh, and the lesbian novelist, but less so. It was blamed on the student editor. I was told that there was a women's writers seminar that year and that many of the papers came from the seminar. Of course, that doesn't explain the paper on Shakespeare. And there are other critical perspectives from which one can approach women writers, including more current models of feminism. The paper on "The Yellow Wallpaper" was the worst. It was simply commended because the male author had learned so much about women's oppression. It was nothing new, unusual, or even particularly interesting, and it was not well-written, but rambled--as did all of the papers that won awards. But the choice of papers was attributed to the student editor and her strong opinions, and I was told that she would again be the editor and (he suspected) would again have a very strong (by implication, different) opinion that was reflected in her choices. I suggested that they have her write an editor's note. I really did. This was my first shining moment. I was also told (by the male professor) that most of their students were young women, and that young women were naturally attracted to that perspective. And then I was asked--nay, it was demanded of me--"Why do you ask that question?" I backtracked a little, good-naturedly saying that I probably phrased the question poorly, that I was really interested in whether the essays were related to a single course, which was true. That was one possible justification for the single-mindedness of the essays. But it wasn't the only reason I could see. It seemed to me that the students were being taught how to think about women's position in society--that they were being taught to see women as victims--and that bugged me.
Next, I was ushered to the human resources guy. I wasn't very impressed by the benefits--especially about the security of those benefits, which seemed doubtful. There was a lovely tall tree--spruce?--a northwestern cypress of sorts--outside of his office, and the wind howled around the buildings. He was a pleasant guy, and I was learning a little about the demographics of the campus--not many young families--when my escort came. One small thing that contributed to my overall bad impression happened here. When I bought the plane ticket, I was told that if I sent a receipt, which I did immediately, they would have a check waiting for me when I got there. Once I was there, I was told to speak directly to the HR guy about my refund. The info I had sent had not been processed. Nothing was handled by the department. It was up to me.
My next stop was the president of the university.
I'll continue from here tomorrow.
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