I've been remiss in my updates, I know. Because I have been remiss in my updates, I have spared everyone my angst, my pondering, my self-doubt, and all of the other mood variations that have accompanied this process!
I have been worried about the job search for years now. Entering the M.A./Ph.D. with the idea that finishing the terminal degree was the difficult part, I gradually became aware of the "gloom and doom" discourse surrounding the job search process. The rhetoric was rhetoric of "settling"--settling for a lesser university than the one we attend, settling for a non-tenure-track position, although that is not what we envisioned when we started, settling for a position teaching something we do not particularly want to be teaching (either permanently or with an eye to "moving on"). There is also some discussion of what it takes to get the job, and I have not been incredibly proactive. I have a lot of teaching experience, and some administrative experience. Both could theoretically help me, but I don't really want a job in administration, I have come to realize, so I won't be using that experience as fully as I might. I have one publication, and a reprint of that publication that I discovered recently, and a smattering of very minor, kind of quirky conferences. I have a couple of research awards to my credit and a couple of teaching awards from long, long ago--awards that I'm not sure I live up to, but no one has to know that!
Early in the process, I was advised that my best chances to get a job were in the field of composition rather than literature. Because my impression of the job market was so bleak, I reluctantly accepted this advice, and resolved myself to apply for mostly comp positions. I lost this resolve, however, at the beginning of the semester, both while perusing the job ads and while considering some of the things I dislike about teaching comp--namely, the emphasis on current political events. After having worked for several years to earn a doctorate in English, I did not want to engage students in the classroom with current events. So although I did apply for some comp jobs, most of the jobs I applied for were lit jobs. Truthfully, I don't really consider myself qualified to teach "rhetoric," and that's where serious rhet/comp jobs tend.
I only applied for 16 jobs, of which one has been cancelled and one postponed until the budget is reevaluated in April. This is a small number, comparatively speaking. I admit to being selective. I did not apply to any positions with an eye to "moving on"--I can't do that. I have too many family obligations. I did not apply to places where I did not reasonably think we might like to live, or to places that would have excessive cost of living. I had other criteria, too. Basically, I am looking for someplace conducive to family life where we can settle at least until my son graduates from high school. I'm not sure I had that actual event as a conscious goal, but it sounds about right. I have come to realize that I had less well-articulated expectations, too, but those were not part of my motivation as I was choosing places where I would apply.
I have written before about the large national convention. The way I see it, it has its benefits. The school and the applicant only have to pay for one trip to interview (at least the preliminary interview). Because everyone comes to a single location, applicants come from across the country rather than looking in a single geographical area for ease of travel to interviews. More applicants at the convention means more to choose from, perhaps being surprised by an unlikely candidate that is a "risk." Basically, there is a bit more cross-pollination of the discipline. This, for me, does not make up for some of its more grievous drawbacks. First, there is the cost. The convention is always held in very, very expensive cities, in the most expensive hotels. Candidates are not reimbursed by their expenses the way they would be if they were presenting papers at the convention. An applicant must make plans to attend the convention far in advance, but the hiring departments can wait literally until the week--or a few days--before the convention because they are assured that the serious job seeker will certainly plan to be in attendance. It dehumanizes the process a bit, to my mind. I object to feeling that my attendance or non-attendance is a reflection of how badly I want a job--life is more complicated than that, you know? Also, the schools may choose to interview more candidates than they are considering seriously, meaning on the one hand that an ostensibly "less attractive" candidate may be given a fair shot, but also meaning that the hiring departments have the option of stringing along many more candidates than they might otherwise, causing expense, inconvenience and nervous anxiety to a greater number of individuals. I'm a real half-empty sort. My cynicism comes out at times like this.
Now, I hate traveling alone. I resent the expense and inconvenience of career-related travel, at least at this stage, because it is very difficult and I never have enough money to make it an enjoyable experience. If I could take the family and have enough money that the expense would not be a huge source of stress, it wouldn't be so bad. But I REALLY hate traveling alone. I have significant anxiety when traveling alone. So this preference certainly comes into play.
Both the rational objections and irrational reactions play into my decision not to attend the convention. My other fear is that I would pay for the ticket, registration, hotel, etc., and not have any interviews at all. As it turns out, I would have had two!!
So I was in the uncomfortable position of having to turn down two interviews. Both, however, expressed continued interest. One I have not heard back from. One will interview me by phone in January, after the convention. It has been impressed upon me how fortunate I am, how grateful and gracious I should be, and (before I got the phone interview) how rare this is and how I shouldn't really expect it. Much of this, I believe, was said in the name of trying to get me to change my mind--which I resent on several levels, and won't go into right now.
Both schools are the south, small regional branches of a state schools--a nice change from where I am now, but one that would entail much more teaching. The one that will interview me seems to have a smallish, eclectic department--the personalities come through on the web page (especially that of the head of the search committee), and they seem like people I would like to work with. The department seems literature-centered, which is just wonderful. I can teach theory if required--I even like to teach some theory, but when the theory becomes the motivation for teaching the literature, I become frustrated. It seems as though this may be a department of like-minded people. On the other hand, they seem to have hired a good number of assistant professors lately, recent Ph.D.s, suggesting that they are looking to "grow" the department, which is also good. The research requirement seems fairly lax, which would give me the opportunity to get my footing (this is a difference from the other department that contacted me--they seem to expect higher publication rates). And it is a literature position! There is a composition teaching requirement, but it is a lit position. All in all, exactly what I could wish for. But of course, there has to be a drawback. And really, it's a doozy. . .
The town is very, very small. Painfully small. Small population; only a single Catholic church in the county (!). No shopping to speak of as far as I can tell. The town itself only has one of each "level" of school--elementary, middle, high--and they don't have orchestra. :( I'm not sure if there would be a montessori preschool. Their is a neighboring town that is a bit bigger, but still very, very small. About an hour away, there's a town with TWO Wal-Marts! *sigh* I always imagined myself moving on to a larger town, not smaller. I worry about choice in medical care, schools, any number of things. Besides housing. Now housing is very, very cheap, which means a smaller cost of living. If it comes down to it, then, it will be a difficult decision, but I will have to consider my family first. I do not want my son's education or my daughters' care to suffer so that I can take a position my first year out. Of course, it may not come to this at all, as phone interviews do put one at a disadvantage, so no use counting chickens. . . On the other hand, it is good to know what the factors are in the decision.
The other town is closer geographically to where I am now, and is certainly larger. There is also a larger Catholic population, which means Catholic schools are a possibility! There is even a zoo and museum in the town, which would be nice. The state is poorer as a whole, and is suffering cuts to the university system as we speak (as are many states). Actually, I think this goes for both states, but one seems better off than the other. And I don't think I'm likely to hear back from school #2. I am happy to have heard from them in the first place, though. I'm not sure these two interviews would have justified the expense and inconvenience and neuroses of attending the convention, however. Had I heard from another one or two, I might regret my decision--or maybe not.
What I have gained from this years' job search so far (and it's not over by any means!) is a significant confidence boost. It no longer feels as though I lack the professional activities necessary to get the job. I also do not feel that it is far-fetched for me to get the kind of position--namely, in Brit Lit--that I really want to get--the kind that I envisioned when I started grad school. That is a relief, and an incredible realization. I have been feeling so negative for so long--almost to the point of feeling that I had wasted my time getting the Ph.D., though I'm not sure what I would have done otherwise. Now, I at least know that there are universities out there who are looking for someone like me, who will be interested in my application. I also know that I can get a position doing what I want to do--teaching what I want to teach. I do wish that the teaching loads were a bit lower, though.
Now I need to apply for some more positions--whenever they happen to show up!
Showing posts with label job search. Show all posts
Showing posts with label job search. Show all posts
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
I AM still alive. . .
Just in case you were all wondering. Just very, very busy. I posted some new pics on the family blog, for those of you who are family and friends. There are two new posts. I'm writing a paper today that I was supposed to lead up to on the book blog, but didn't. I need to present the paper Tuesday afternoon.
I have reached a pause and a waiting stage with the job search, having applied to a disgraceful 15 positions. Trouble is, there are not many that I would take if they were offered to me. I am well seated for a job in rhet/comp, but I would rather shoot myself in the foot than try to get excited about making students talk/write about politics. I like teaching writing; I've never been interested in politics. I would much rather have the students think about aspects of their lives that affect them that they may NEVER have to vote on. There are so very many things in life that are arguable. So most of the positions I have applied to combine composition and literature teaching duties. That, I could live with. Most of them have abysmal teaching loads--akin to community colleges, with research requirements. That's not what I've been working for for the past 10 years--at least, unless the classes are small. That would be okay.
I have applied for one position that I would really like to have. It's a very conservative Catholic college. So conservative, in fact, that their health insurance plan doesn't cover birth control! (NOT Steubenville or Ave Maria) (Don't Google it) The subject field is marginally related to mine, but I think I made a good argument for it. I hope. We'll see. It's different. It's challenging. It's interesting. And I don't think I would have to pretend to be something I'm not--at least, not much!
You know, though, I'm not--and I never have been--comfortable being labeled by my politics, which really come down to a choice of the lesser of evils. . . I would really rather be known as a Catholic academic (though really the Catholic part doesn't come up that often, so it's like saying "a Catholic person") who believes in personal integrity and the potential of every human individual. Someone who believes that education can make a difference in the person--I'm not particularly worried about the larger scope. I have my opinions, but that's not really what I'm setting out to change. In a conversation today, I was told, "well, you're more conservative than me, so. . ." (and no reflection at all on the person saying it--that she said it, I mean!--because I don't doubt that it's true, though I think that most of us can find some common ground!!) and while I like that it was acknowledged without insult or judgement, and that there was no assumption that all academics think the same, still there was something a little unsettling about it. . . For one thing, in day to day life, it's not how I present myself to the world.
Still don't want to go to the big convention to be interviewed (potentially)--can't afford it, really. Not having student loans just plain sucks. Besides that I can't leave Chiclette and Doodle. I'm afraid that I would be neurotic with anxiety over leaving them. Chiclette is not weaned, and Doodle--well, it really takes two of us to keep things running smoothly.
I've got a lot on my plate with teaching and thinking about my administrative tasks next semester. Not what I want to blog about. The teaching seems good sometimes, discouraging or overwhelming other times. I do get some kind of satisfaction out of it, but never so much as when it's all over!
I have reached a pause and a waiting stage with the job search, having applied to a disgraceful 15 positions. Trouble is, there are not many that I would take if they were offered to me. I am well seated for a job in rhet/comp, but I would rather shoot myself in the foot than try to get excited about making students talk/write about politics. I like teaching writing; I've never been interested in politics. I would much rather have the students think about aspects of their lives that affect them that they may NEVER have to vote on. There are so very many things in life that are arguable. So most of the positions I have applied to combine composition and literature teaching duties. That, I could live with. Most of them have abysmal teaching loads--akin to community colleges, with research requirements. That's not what I've been working for for the past 10 years--at least, unless the classes are small. That would be okay.
I have applied for one position that I would really like to have. It's a very conservative Catholic college. So conservative, in fact, that their health insurance plan doesn't cover birth control! (NOT Steubenville or Ave Maria) (Don't Google it) The subject field is marginally related to mine, but I think I made a good argument for it. I hope. We'll see. It's different. It's challenging. It's interesting. And I don't think I would have to pretend to be something I'm not--at least, not much!
You know, though, I'm not--and I never have been--comfortable being labeled by my politics, which really come down to a choice of the lesser of evils. . . I would really rather be known as a Catholic academic (though really the Catholic part doesn't come up that often, so it's like saying "a Catholic person") who believes in personal integrity and the potential of every human individual. Someone who believes that education can make a difference in the person--I'm not particularly worried about the larger scope. I have my opinions, but that's not really what I'm setting out to change. In a conversation today, I was told, "well, you're more conservative than me, so. . ." (and no reflection at all on the person saying it--that she said it, I mean!--because I don't doubt that it's true, though I think that most of us can find some common ground!!) and while I like that it was acknowledged without insult or judgement, and that there was no assumption that all academics think the same, still there was something a little unsettling about it. . . For one thing, in day to day life, it's not how I present myself to the world.
Still don't want to go to the big convention to be interviewed (potentially)--can't afford it, really. Not having student loans just plain sucks. Besides that I can't leave Chiclette and Doodle. I'm afraid that I would be neurotic with anxiety over leaving them. Chiclette is not weaned, and Doodle--well, it really takes two of us to keep things running smoothly.
I've got a lot on my plate with teaching and thinking about my administrative tasks next semester. Not what I want to blog about. The teaching seems good sometimes, discouraging or overwhelming other times. I do get some kind of satisfaction out of it, but never so much as when it's all over!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Commitments
Taking a few short minutes to post. October promises to be a brutal month. I have deadlines to meet, papers due, papers returned, a test to write and give, and I've really settled in to the drudgery of the semester. I need to finish preparing my application materials and actually print them to mail them. I need to set up a dossier with the career center. I need to revise a dissertation chapter before the "revise and resubmit" becomes a "who were you again?" I don't even have the time to do the things that I need to do, much less the things I want to do. I'm sure I've forgotten something.
I have mixed feelings about going to the national convention where all interviews are held. I have resented from the beginning the "meat market" approach to job hunting, though that's not the whole story. There is a "meat market" quality, but my understanding is that the people who want to play the self-promotion game with no scheduled interviews are the ones who flit from booth to booth handing out their vitas. That is soooo not me! Although I don't see myself participating in that procedure, I also resent the intimidation and pressure of the centralized interviews, the depersonalization, the prospect of interviewing as one of many, many candidates. I also resent the expense of it all. This conference is generally held one of several cities that rank among the most expensive in the country. The scale of the conference is intimidating; the travel is intimidating; the expense is intimidating. I tend to perform well under pressure, but that doesn't mean I can't resent it beforehand!! The conference also takes place at a time that is inconvenient for me--midsemester break, between a prominent Christian holiday and a prominent secular holiday. A time traditionally associated with family, if one goes for that kind of thing. I don't like to leave my family at the most mundane of times. I feel rather like an essential part of my family dynamic right now, and the thought of leaving makes me apprehensive. And I just plain don't like traveling by myself--I've never done it much, really.
So I go back and forth in my mind about the convention--do I go? Do I not go? Theoretically, attendance at the convention should not determine one's consideration for the position--theoretically. Do I go alone? Do I take the family (and drive)? But that's only part of it, really. . .
Graduating has been good for me, in a way. I have more of a feeling of wanting to be involved in the academic community than I have in a while. I have had more interest in developing my own work recently. What I lack is TIME. I'm heading towards becoming burned out all over again, and I'm not even teaching what would be considered a "full load"--I'm only teaching 2 courses this semester and one course (of who knows what, but I've been almost guaranteed that it won't be the one thing I want to teach--a Brit Lit survey) next semester because of my "administrative duties" which have expanded in new and time-consuming directions. Now, the unexpected part is actually the most fun and rewarding, but that doesn't change the fact that it's an incredible demand on my time. The funny thing is, it's probably classified more under "service" (and I don't have a "service" requirement) than with my normal job duties. *sigh* I am trying to wrap up a funded project that is a whole lot of fun, and really excites me, but has been slow going because of constraints on my time and the hours of the archives. My 5-day a week schedule, while good for child care, has made me feel like I'm meeting myself "coming and going," as the expression goes--every time I wrap up one class, it's time to prepare for the next. At times, I feel very competent, with a real sense of accomplishment. Other times I feel swamped, frustrated, or simply--tired. And I'm only teaching 2 classes. Standard load for a job search is 3+ courses each semester. And I tend to get sick of the course I'm teaching halfway through. I sometimes think I would do better in a trimester system, but I can't imagine that that would make me feel less swamped. So while I'm enjoying having--rather than pursuing--the Ph.D., the newfound ambition is overwhelmed by an increase in job duties. I feel like to get the job materials out will mean putting my classes on hold in a significant way. Funny thing is, the materials are already ready! It's a matter of tweaking things for specific jobs and printing!
I don't really feel ready to be on the market. That's where this post has been tending. I think I need this year to do other things. . . Publish, for example. Catch up on some bills. Spend time with my girls while they're still little and need me. Make cupcakes for Doodle's first birthday at school (which was Monday, and which I did!). Make the girls some fall-to-winter outfits. Oh! and get used to a higher teaching load--gradually, if at all possible. There's time for tenure-track when Chiclette is old enough for pre-preschool (a 2-year-old or 3-year-old class). And yet, I don't really want to be stuck doing what I'm doing for too much longer. Non-academic alternatives strike me as 1) boring, 2) more time-consuming. So I'm stuck for now. Anything else would require my husband to change jobs. And really, that's not practical. So I'll go edit a teaching philosophy now (not the thing to do after a crummy morning class. . .)
I have mixed feelings about going to the national convention where all interviews are held. I have resented from the beginning the "meat market" approach to job hunting, though that's not the whole story. There is a "meat market" quality, but my understanding is that the people who want to play the self-promotion game with no scheduled interviews are the ones who flit from booth to booth handing out their vitas. That is soooo not me! Although I don't see myself participating in that procedure, I also resent the intimidation and pressure of the centralized interviews, the depersonalization, the prospect of interviewing as one of many, many candidates. I also resent the expense of it all. This conference is generally held one of several cities that rank among the most expensive in the country. The scale of the conference is intimidating; the travel is intimidating; the expense is intimidating. I tend to perform well under pressure, but that doesn't mean I can't resent it beforehand!! The conference also takes place at a time that is inconvenient for me--midsemester break, between a prominent Christian holiday and a prominent secular holiday. A time traditionally associated with family, if one goes for that kind of thing. I don't like to leave my family at the most mundane of times. I feel rather like an essential part of my family dynamic right now, and the thought of leaving makes me apprehensive. And I just plain don't like traveling by myself--I've never done it much, really.
So I go back and forth in my mind about the convention--do I go? Do I not go? Theoretically, attendance at the convention should not determine one's consideration for the position--theoretically. Do I go alone? Do I take the family (and drive)? But that's only part of it, really. . .
Graduating has been good for me, in a way. I have more of a feeling of wanting to be involved in the academic community than I have in a while. I have had more interest in developing my own work recently. What I lack is TIME. I'm heading towards becoming burned out all over again, and I'm not even teaching what would be considered a "full load"--I'm only teaching 2 courses this semester and one course (of who knows what, but I've been almost guaranteed that it won't be the one thing I want to teach--a Brit Lit survey) next semester because of my "administrative duties" which have expanded in new and time-consuming directions. Now, the unexpected part is actually the most fun and rewarding, but that doesn't change the fact that it's an incredible demand on my time. The funny thing is, it's probably classified more under "service" (and I don't have a "service" requirement) than with my normal job duties. *sigh* I am trying to wrap up a funded project that is a whole lot of fun, and really excites me, but has been slow going because of constraints on my time and the hours of the archives. My 5-day a week schedule, while good for child care, has made me feel like I'm meeting myself "coming and going," as the expression goes--every time I wrap up one class, it's time to prepare for the next. At times, I feel very competent, with a real sense of accomplishment. Other times I feel swamped, frustrated, or simply--tired. And I'm only teaching 2 classes. Standard load for a job search is 3+ courses each semester. And I tend to get sick of the course I'm teaching halfway through. I sometimes think I would do better in a trimester system, but I can't imagine that that would make me feel less swamped. So while I'm enjoying having--rather than pursuing--the Ph.D., the newfound ambition is overwhelmed by an increase in job duties. I feel like to get the job materials out will mean putting my classes on hold in a significant way. Funny thing is, the materials are already ready! It's a matter of tweaking things for specific jobs and printing!
I don't really feel ready to be on the market. That's where this post has been tending. I think I need this year to do other things. . . Publish, for example. Catch up on some bills. Spend time with my girls while they're still little and need me. Make cupcakes for Doodle's first birthday at school (which was Monday, and which I did!). Make the girls some fall-to-winter outfits. Oh! and get used to a higher teaching load--gradually, if at all possible. There's time for tenure-track when Chiclette is old enough for pre-preschool (a 2-year-old or 3-year-old class). And yet, I don't really want to be stuck doing what I'm doing for too much longer. Non-academic alternatives strike me as 1) boring, 2) more time-consuming. So I'm stuck for now. Anything else would require my husband to change jobs. And really, that's not practical. So I'll go edit a teaching philosophy now (not the thing to do after a crummy morning class. . .)
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Academic Moms & Tenure Track Jobs
Hat tip: Kate
A study out of Utah revealed recently that female professors are less likely than their professional counterparts to have children. This is hardly surprising to someone who has been in a graduate program and known a number of female academics who, for whatever reason, have decided not to have children or have delayed that decision indefinitely. I have been fortunate to be in a department full of professor-moms and even more fortunate, lately, to be in a department full of grad student moms (though this was late in coming--I was the only grad student mom in the department for quite some time!! It's nice to have company. . .) The blog that mentions this study also mentions that UC Berkley is doing something to try to address the issue of continued gender inequity in academia--the basic fact that while being married with children seems to be an asset of sorts to male success in academia (or at least a reflection of--like sowing the academic oats has a biological counterpart*), the reverse is true for women. More women who achieve tenure have fewer children, no children, and have children later, while women who have children earlier tend to drop off of the tenure-track, choosing instead to work in adjunct and lecturer-type positions. Tenured women are also more likely to be divorced, since the average male prof is married to a non-academic, while the average female academic is married to a male Ph.D., leading to the "my career is more important that yours" syndrome. I have seen that happen with a lawyer couple with whose family my family was good friends when I was growing up, so I suspect that that statistic is true of professional married women in general. It is not unique to academic couples for each individual to enter the marriage with the assumption that his/her career is or should be more important than the other person's, or more important than the marriage or the family unit. But such things vary according to maturity level of the individuals involved (the couple we knew were very immature), temperament, and level of ambition.
Now, to be fair, the rather extensive study done by Berkeley showed that women with children made up almost 1/2 of women in tenure-track positions, with only a slightly lower percentage overall than women without children. It's funny the way that worked out, unless you look at the comparison to the number of men in tenure-track positions. It was clear that family considerations do indeed keep huge numbers of women out of tenure-track positions. When I consider my schedule for next year as I strive to keep my youngest out of daycare, I understand why. But at the same time, for women to drop down into lower-paying, higher-teaching load adjunct and non-tenure track positions doesn't make intuitive sense to me.
I remember reading posts recently about the presence and absence of children in our lives. Not just the ones that sparked some of my bolder pronouncements on the subject, but discussions on other blogs about how having children around while growing up fosters a healthy attitude toward children, including a realistic impression of what can actually be accomplished with children around. Just the knowledge of how to take care of a baby is a healthy effect of having not only siblings, but young cousins, and friends who have siblings, etc. While it may be helpful for me at this stage to have some on-campus office hours in the fall, I know that I can write with my babies around. I've been doing it as long as I can remember!! So sacrificing the lower teaching load of a tenure-track job for a job that requires more in-classroom hours and less research & publication doesn't seem like a smart career (or family) move to me. Of course, I don't aspire to an R1 university anyway. I would like a university where achieving tenure is a more laid-back, faculty-supported, not highly-competitive enterprise. So clearly, I won't be taking a position (or applying for a position) with the Berkeley system. Besides my aversion to earthquakes and mudslides. But it is nice to see the problems laid out and some solutions proposed. I really like one of the goals articulated in their report on their findings: They want to be able to answer the often-asked female grad student query, "When is a good time to have a baby?" with a resounding "Any time!" Part of their program, then, is to support grad students who wish to have families. The problem is that at this stage their family-friendly policies and goals (dictated, no doubt, by current reluctance of some people to move to California because of cost as well as a negative birth rate in some parts of the state that rivals that of some European nations. . .) are not necessarily shared by the institutions that will be hiring their new Ph.D.'s. So it's a step in the right direction, but unless other schools follow suit, it's only a solution for the faculty they wish to recruit or retain.
On the other hand, if some nutbar tries to tell me that I'm being utterly irresponsible by having more than one or two children, I can just say that since only 1 in 3 female tenured academics have children, I can have up to 6 myself and still be making up for the other two!!
*Sowing the academic oats does indeed have a biological counterpart when male professors, having achieved tenure, marry their grad students or undergrads!
A study out of Utah revealed recently that female professors are less likely than their professional counterparts to have children. This is hardly surprising to someone who has been in a graduate program and known a number of female academics who, for whatever reason, have decided not to have children or have delayed that decision indefinitely. I have been fortunate to be in a department full of professor-moms and even more fortunate, lately, to be in a department full of grad student moms (though this was late in coming--I was the only grad student mom in the department for quite some time!! It's nice to have company. . .) The blog that mentions this study also mentions that UC Berkley is doing something to try to address the issue of continued gender inequity in academia--the basic fact that while being married with children seems to be an asset of sorts to male success in academia (or at least a reflection of--like sowing the academic oats has a biological counterpart*), the reverse is true for women. More women who achieve tenure have fewer children, no children, and have children later, while women who have children earlier tend to drop off of the tenure-track, choosing instead to work in adjunct and lecturer-type positions. Tenured women are also more likely to be divorced, since the average male prof is married to a non-academic, while the average female academic is married to a male Ph.D., leading to the "my career is more important that yours" syndrome. I have seen that happen with a lawyer couple with whose family my family was good friends when I was growing up, so I suspect that that statistic is true of professional married women in general. It is not unique to academic couples for each individual to enter the marriage with the assumption that his/her career is or should be more important than the other person's, or more important than the marriage or the family unit. But such things vary according to maturity level of the individuals involved (the couple we knew were very immature), temperament, and level of ambition.
Now, to be fair, the rather extensive study done by Berkeley showed that women with children made up almost 1/2 of women in tenure-track positions, with only a slightly lower percentage overall than women without children. It's funny the way that worked out, unless you look at the comparison to the number of men in tenure-track positions. It was clear that family considerations do indeed keep huge numbers of women out of tenure-track positions. When I consider my schedule for next year as I strive to keep my youngest out of daycare, I understand why. But at the same time, for women to drop down into lower-paying, higher-teaching load adjunct and non-tenure track positions doesn't make intuitive sense to me.
I remember reading posts recently about the presence and absence of children in our lives. Not just the ones that sparked some of my bolder pronouncements on the subject, but discussions on other blogs about how having children around while growing up fosters a healthy attitude toward children, including a realistic impression of what can actually be accomplished with children around. Just the knowledge of how to take care of a baby is a healthy effect of having not only siblings, but young cousins, and friends who have siblings, etc. While it may be helpful for me at this stage to have some on-campus office hours in the fall, I know that I can write with my babies around. I've been doing it as long as I can remember!! So sacrificing the lower teaching load of a tenure-track job for a job that requires more in-classroom hours and less research & publication doesn't seem like a smart career (or family) move to me. Of course, I don't aspire to an R1 university anyway. I would like a university where achieving tenure is a more laid-back, faculty-supported, not highly-competitive enterprise. So clearly, I won't be taking a position (or applying for a position) with the Berkeley system. Besides my aversion to earthquakes and mudslides. But it is nice to see the problems laid out and some solutions proposed. I really like one of the goals articulated in their report on their findings: They want to be able to answer the often-asked female grad student query, "When is a good time to have a baby?" with a resounding "Any time!" Part of their program, then, is to support grad students who wish to have families. The problem is that at this stage their family-friendly policies and goals (dictated, no doubt, by current reluctance of some people to move to California because of cost as well as a negative birth rate in some parts of the state that rivals that of some European nations. . .) are not necessarily shared by the institutions that will be hiring their new Ph.D.'s. So it's a step in the right direction, but unless other schools follow suit, it's only a solution for the faculty they wish to recruit or retain.
On the other hand, if some nutbar tries to tell me that I'm being utterly irresponsible by having more than one or two children, I can just say that since only 1 in 3 female tenured academics have children, I can have up to 6 myself and still be making up for the other two!!
*Sowing the academic oats does indeed have a biological counterpart when male professors, having achieved tenure, marry their grad students or undergrads!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Okay, So I Might Graduate. . .
Actually, it's looking pretty certain these days. I'm finishing up the dissertation now (well, no, not now exactly, but you know what I mean. . .), and my defense is set for May 5. I have to have a good copy to my committee by Friday so they can, like, read it and stuff. So eventually, I figure, I should get a job. Well, I guess first I have to look and apply for some jobs. So I was wondering. . .
Since becoming Catholic, I have been thinking, Gee, wouldn't it be nice to teach at a nice Catholic school? Then I could raise the kinds of questions that you can't raise in a state school where you're supposed to respect everyone's religious identity to the point of annihilating your own (like when, post 9-11, one prof voluntarily removed his Divinity Degree from the wall, and another was advised to hide her icons!!), and where there would, presumably, be some sense of Catholic identity, and opportunities for faith formation among the faculty and. . . well, that's the kind of thing I was thinking. Except that even in the first fervor of conversion, I wasn't sure Ave Maria or Steubenville would be for me. I'm an orthodox kind of gal, but I'm not ready for any Catholic versions of those protestant colleges that won't let faculty drink alcohol (yet the one I have in mind has the bar and cash register from the Bird and the Baby--the Eagle and Child pub where the Inklings met--in its library--yeah. . .), and I believe that those schools might be a teensy evangelical in flavor for a recovering protestant.
So then I found the blogosphere. Specifically, the Catholic blogosphere. And I learned that not all Catholic colleges are created equal. And that precious few are deemed "Catholic enough" for the orthodox crowd who want their kids to have a degree. I've been to a bunch of the web sites that give you the scoop on the adherence of the various Catholic colleges to the Magesterium, read many a lament about the state of Catholic higher education, many tirades against the Jesuits, and, frankly, I'm confused. The scholarly, prominent Catholic universities with whom every new Ph.D. would LOVE to have an interview are apparently unworthy of being termed Catholic, while the most orthodox of all hire mainly clergy or have 5-person English departments or 300-student enrollments and the ones in between have low pay, high teaching loads, nominal research requirements--not the kind of place to go, in short, if teaching and research are on your agenda, that is, if you want your ideas to be heard by the scholarly community. So is it worth investigating positions at Catholic colleges at all? If you risk being associated with heterodoxy or heresy, or exposed to and manipulated by such ideas? If, by avoiding those pitfalls, you are compromising the chance of having a Catholic voice in the cacophany of scholarly opinions? Not to mention compromising your ability to pay those loans--you know, the ones that are equal to or surpass the price of a really nice house? The ones that you will not pay off before you die? The ones that are, in fact, a lease on your education rather than a purchase? Yeah, those. Is it O.K. for a Catholic academic to take a position at a Catholic college or university that is Catholic in name only? In hopes of influencing others, maybe? Or do you just give up on Catholic education altogether in order to avoid this sticky issue?
Since becoming Catholic, I have been thinking, Gee, wouldn't it be nice to teach at a nice Catholic school? Then I could raise the kinds of questions that you can't raise in a state school where you're supposed to respect everyone's religious identity to the point of annihilating your own (like when, post 9-11, one prof voluntarily removed his Divinity Degree from the wall, and another was advised to hide her icons!!), and where there would, presumably, be some sense of Catholic identity, and opportunities for faith formation among the faculty and. . . well, that's the kind of thing I was thinking. Except that even in the first fervor of conversion, I wasn't sure Ave Maria or Steubenville would be for me. I'm an orthodox kind of gal, but I'm not ready for any Catholic versions of those protestant colleges that won't let faculty drink alcohol (yet the one I have in mind has the bar and cash register from the Bird and the Baby--the Eagle and Child pub where the Inklings met--in its library--yeah. . .), and I believe that those schools might be a teensy evangelical in flavor for a recovering protestant.
So then I found the blogosphere. Specifically, the Catholic blogosphere. And I learned that not all Catholic colleges are created equal. And that precious few are deemed "Catholic enough" for the orthodox crowd who want their kids to have a degree. I've been to a bunch of the web sites that give you the scoop on the adherence of the various Catholic colleges to the Magesterium, read many a lament about the state of Catholic higher education, many tirades against the Jesuits, and, frankly, I'm confused. The scholarly, prominent Catholic universities with whom every new Ph.D. would LOVE to have an interview are apparently unworthy of being termed Catholic, while the most orthodox of all hire mainly clergy or have 5-person English departments or 300-student enrollments and the ones in between have low pay, high teaching loads, nominal research requirements--not the kind of place to go, in short, if teaching and research are on your agenda, that is, if you want your ideas to be heard by the scholarly community. So is it worth investigating positions at Catholic colleges at all? If you risk being associated with heterodoxy or heresy, or exposed to and manipulated by such ideas? If, by avoiding those pitfalls, you are compromising the chance of having a Catholic voice in the cacophany of scholarly opinions? Not to mention compromising your ability to pay those loans--you know, the ones that are equal to or surpass the price of a really nice house? The ones that you will not pay off before you die? The ones that are, in fact, a lease on your education rather than a purchase? Yeah, those. Is it O.K. for a Catholic academic to take a position at a Catholic college or university that is Catholic in name only? In hopes of influencing others, maybe? Or do you just give up on Catholic education altogether in order to avoid this sticky issue?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The Nature of the Job Market -or- Why I Won't Be Hired -or- A Coffee-Inspired Digression
Let me preface this by saying that I'm having a little debate with myself about coffee--whether I should have more of the stuff or avoid it altogether. You see, when I have more of it, I get agitated, but when I get agitated, I write stuff--sometimes even the stuff I'm supposed to be writing. When I have less coffee, I am calmer but less productive. Incidently, the best coffee in the world is made by monks.
So I received an email today about a job candidate to whom we've offered a position. This person is being hired in a marginal subfield related (somewhat) to my marginal subfield, but also intersects with many hot-topic subfields (some related to marginal groups)--hear: really attractive to a field trying to redefine itself as interdisciplinary, non-Western, and socially and politically "relevant." This person would also help the minority profile of the department, and comes from a somewhat more high-profile state school than the one that has offered him a position--also a state-school better known for liberal arts than the one that has offered him a position. He is a self-described "activist"--attractive to some segments of the faculty and grad student body, though the university is not located in a place that one would necessarily consider an ideal locale for activism (unless he painted tiger-stripes on himself and posed naked with the PETA chicks who protested the Barnum & Bailey circus a few years back. . .). He also has extensive creative publications, which would add a possible creative writing instructor to the faculty. His publication record is impressive, albeit limited to journals and book chapters in his particular, very specific, not very prominent ethnic literature specialization--the equivalent to me publishing in the fictitious Journal of Literacy in British Literature of the Early Twentieth Century. No wait--that's less specific. Oh well! He is in the process of being wined & dined by numerous other departments who want him for the exact same reasons I have outlined: well-qualified & looks good politically. So what's the problem?
Well, as I see it, and as the faculty has presented it, he is one of the best qualified new scholars currently on the market, and has other benefits besides. Every department hiring for anything related to his specialties wants him. He's got lots of people fighting for him, and unless we're making him a really sweet deal, he might not be willing to settle for "flagship" school in Texas miles outside of civilization. I mean, another department in liberal arts had a candidate turn them down because the local high school didn't have a good enough tennis team. Yeah. Neither the climate of the school nor the faculty in general nor the majority of the student body are really activism-friendly. (Okay, you all know where I live now. C'est la vie!) So why make him an offer he's likely to refuse? Naivete? Ambition? Have the faculty who are here convinced themselves that it's a really great place? After all, we've got the minimum number of Starbucks to be considered civilized now, a definite improvement on 10 years ago--oh wait, do activists like Starbucks? Hmmmm. . . But what do I have against making him an offer? If he refuses, we just move on an no one has lost anything, and there is the snowball's chance in hell that he will accept.
Well you see, I'm thinking about this as a grad student approaching a firing committee--oh wait, that's "hiring committee," "firing squad". . . Sorry! In the "professionalization and publication" class I took, we talked a bit about the "culture" of a department/university, and how we should make sure we would be a good fit, and how we should learn about the university's/department's "culture" in order to make a convincing application to that department. Anyway, this "culture" thing is supposed to be a deciding factor for search committees. At least in theory. A candidate can be bumped for not fitting in with the "culture"--it's permissible. Clearly, I don't think he quite fits, but this is not about me. Well at least I wasn't the one giving input (for many very good reasons). In theory, someone who is well-qualified but not as high-profile--say, someone from a lesser state-school or one not particularly well-known for liberal arts--can win out over someone who looks more attractive initially based on a well-crafted argument concerning fitting in with the school's "culture." There are other strategies, too, and admittedly it's probably not best to play up a connection with the "culture" of a school with decidedly non-intellectual "culture," but presumably being much more suited for a more cosmopolitan area could influence the decision of a hiring committee in a less cosmopolitan area.
Because, you see, if the top, kind of wacky candidate is not offered all of the 10 positions open in the field (or 6, or whatever), but the positions s/he is most likely to accept (or where s/he is most likely to feel comfortable, not leave within 5 years, etc.), then the second-best, still excellent 2 or 3 candidates might be offered 2-3 positions in the first cycle of offers, which basically means that the hiring process will be completed sooner and the second- and third choice candidates get offers sooner. After all, there are so many people in this discipline who are really well-qualified but lack the academic pedigree of a certain university, I'm not sure the top candidate really is the best candidate--at least, I hope not.
By all accounts, the job search is expensive, grueling, anxious, miserable, and often unfair. And did I mention a load of laughs? If you're from a lesser school, you really need to start padding the vita against guys like the one described above from day one. But if you don't quite have the same list of pubs, does it really mean that you're less worthy? (Working on politically correct subject matter often helps, too. This guy has it all!) A lot of the misery of the job search could be lessened--at least for some candidates--if the hiring committees would be a little more realistic & rational about the whole process. I mean, what if their own students were competing against Mr. Star Candidate? Would they feel like their own students had the chance that they deserved, or that the decks were stacked against them? Would they (and their students) appreciate being left on the back burners while the top few were treated to the grand tour, even by schools whose offers they were least likely to accept? And what about the committees themselves? Are their resources best spent making offers to 4-5 candidates before one accepts? And isn't it just a little nicer for everyone involved to know that the first candidate to receive an offer accepted it?
So I received an email today about a job candidate to whom we've offered a position. This person is being hired in a marginal subfield related (somewhat) to my marginal subfield, but also intersects with many hot-topic subfields (some related to marginal groups)--hear: really attractive to a field trying to redefine itself as interdisciplinary, non-Western, and socially and politically "relevant." This person would also help the minority profile of the department, and comes from a somewhat more high-profile state school than the one that has offered him a position--also a state-school better known for liberal arts than the one that has offered him a position. He is a self-described "activist"--attractive to some segments of the faculty and grad student body, though the university is not located in a place that one would necessarily consider an ideal locale for activism (unless he painted tiger-stripes on himself and posed naked with the PETA chicks who protested the Barnum & Bailey circus a few years back. . .). He also has extensive creative publications, which would add a possible creative writing instructor to the faculty. His publication record is impressive, albeit limited to journals and book chapters in his particular, very specific, not very prominent ethnic literature specialization--the equivalent to me publishing in the fictitious Journal of Literacy in British Literature of the Early Twentieth Century. No wait--that's less specific. Oh well! He is in the process of being wined & dined by numerous other departments who want him for the exact same reasons I have outlined: well-qualified & looks good politically. So what's the problem?
Well, as I see it, and as the faculty has presented it, he is one of the best qualified new scholars currently on the market, and has other benefits besides. Every department hiring for anything related to his specialties wants him. He's got lots of people fighting for him, and unless we're making him a really sweet deal, he might not be willing to settle for "flagship" school in Texas miles outside of civilization. I mean, another department in liberal arts had a candidate turn them down because the local high school didn't have a good enough tennis team. Yeah. Neither the climate of the school nor the faculty in general nor the majority of the student body are really activism-friendly. (Okay, you all know where I live now. C'est la vie!) So why make him an offer he's likely to refuse? Naivete? Ambition? Have the faculty who are here convinced themselves that it's a really great place? After all, we've got the minimum number of Starbucks to be considered civilized now, a definite improvement on 10 years ago--oh wait, do activists like Starbucks? Hmmmm. . . But what do I have against making him an offer? If he refuses, we just move on an no one has lost anything, and there is the snowball's chance in hell that he will accept.
Well you see, I'm thinking about this as a grad student approaching a firing committee--oh wait, that's "hiring committee," "firing squad". . . Sorry! In the "professionalization and publication" class I took, we talked a bit about the "culture" of a department/university, and how we should make sure we would be a good fit, and how we should learn about the university's/department's "culture" in order to make a convincing application to that department. Anyway, this "culture" thing is supposed to be a deciding factor for search committees. At least in theory. A candidate can be bumped for not fitting in with the "culture"--it's permissible. Clearly, I don't think he quite fits, but this is not about me. Well at least I wasn't the one giving input (for many very good reasons). In theory, someone who is well-qualified but not as high-profile--say, someone from a lesser state-school or one not particularly well-known for liberal arts--can win out over someone who looks more attractive initially based on a well-crafted argument concerning fitting in with the school's "culture." There are other strategies, too, and admittedly it's probably not best to play up a connection with the "culture" of a school with decidedly non-intellectual "culture," but presumably being much more suited for a more cosmopolitan area could influence the decision of a hiring committee in a less cosmopolitan area.
Because, you see, if the top, kind of wacky candidate is not offered all of the 10 positions open in the field (or 6, or whatever), but the positions s/he is most likely to accept (or where s/he is most likely to feel comfortable, not leave within 5 years, etc.), then the second-best, still excellent 2 or 3 candidates might be offered 2-3 positions in the first cycle of offers, which basically means that the hiring process will be completed sooner and the second- and third choice candidates get offers sooner. After all, there are so many people in this discipline who are really well-qualified but lack the academic pedigree of a certain university, I'm not sure the top candidate really is the best candidate--at least, I hope not.
By all accounts, the job search is expensive, grueling, anxious, miserable, and often unfair. And did I mention a load of laughs? If you're from a lesser school, you really need to start padding the vita against guys like the one described above from day one. But if you don't quite have the same list of pubs, does it really mean that you're less worthy? (Working on politically correct subject matter often helps, too. This guy has it all!) A lot of the misery of the job search could be lessened--at least for some candidates--if the hiring committees would be a little more realistic & rational about the whole process. I mean, what if their own students were competing against Mr. Star Candidate? Would they feel like their own students had the chance that they deserved, or that the decks were stacked against them? Would they (and their students) appreciate being left on the back burners while the top few were treated to the grand tour, even by schools whose offers they were least likely to accept? And what about the committees themselves? Are their resources best spent making offers to 4-5 candidates before one accepts? And isn't it just a little nicer for everyone involved to know that the first candidate to receive an offer accepted it?
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