A fortunate few people out there have lately received calls from prospective employers, deans or department chairs, offering tenure-track jobs. Congratulations, fortunate few. In this historically bad year for academic jobs, your success is particularly noteworthy. You’re either very good, very lucky, or some combination of the two. And if the past is prelude, you also might be a bit miserable.
It’s that misery I want to talk about, if you’ll bear with me. One of the dirty secrets of the academic job market is how much it can suck to land a position. Mind you, it doesn’t suck nearly as much as not getting offered a job. Unemployment is a really bad thing; a paycheck, by contrast, is a good thing. Still, it can suck a lot.
What am I talking about? Well, precious few people, even in times of plenty, are offered jobs they really want, at least not straight out of graduate school. This means they’ll have to move to a place they don’t want to move. Or they’ll have to work at an institution that bears little resemblance to the temple of knowledge they associate with higher education. Because, after all, few people get jobs at schools like the ones where they received their BAs or PhDs. The conditions of employment, in other words, aren’t great in most instances: perhaps too much teaching, sometimes in fields distant from one’s area of expertise; perhaps low pay, sometimes not enough to buy a house or cover the cost of living in one’s new hometown; perhaps a grim work environment, sometimes peopled by unruly colleagues, hostile administrators, and intellectually indifferent students. And finally, the realization that this is it, that this is what all the fuss was about.
It’s that last point that can be most painful. We literally spend years pointing toward the job market. Sure, there are admirable freaks in our midst: scholars who are all about the work, who focus entirely on the intellectual endeavor rather than the relatively crass process of securing employment. But most of us, starting some time in the third week of our first year in a PhD program, began thinking about getting a job. Sometimes we were optimistic, fantasizing about landing the perfect position. Sometimes we found ourselves despairing of ever finding work at all.
Then, after all that time and energy, for those of us lucky enough finally to be offered a job, the experience can be disheartening. A sense of anti-climax: “My goodness, this is it. All that work, and what do I have to show for it? A job. A job in a field I want, to be sure, but still…a job. Nothing more, nothing less. And very likely not even the job I really want. Which means I have to get back on the roller coaster right away.” It can be hard. Again, not as hard as not getting a job. And likely not as hard as getting a job in a variety of other fields. But still, hard.
Especially hard, I think, because there’s not much support for people who find themselves in this situation. Advisers and peers typically expect successful job candidates to celebrate. It can be unsettling, then, to find oneself somber, or at least a bit wistful, in what one’s culture dictates should be a moment of triumph. (Equally unsettling, I imagine, is the case of peers and advisers who don’t think celebration is warranted: “Oh, um, congratulations. I wondered who got that job.” Subtext: “I’m sorry you didn’t get a real job at a major research university.”)
Now here’s where, if this were a better post, I’d provide some strategies for dealing with the issues I’ve outlined above. Unfortunately, I’m short on strategies. Except for this: know that you’re not alone. There are other people out there in the same boat, people who realize that the economy is horrible, that the academic job market is an unmitigated disaster, and that they’re lucky, consequently, to have found work at all. And yet, these same people wish they felt happier, felt more like celebrating. Admittedly, that’s not much. So there’s this, too: some people ultimately find that a job turns out better than anticipated. Hostile environs sometimes hide delightful landscapes. Good friends sometimes lurk amidst scores of eccentric colleagues. And eager mentees sometimes rise above crowds of indifferent students.
Still, in the end, it really is just a job. A great job, but a job nevertheless. And maybe that’s not a bad lesson to learn sooner rather than later — even if it hurts.


75 comments
April 17, 2009 at 10:16 am
bitchphd
Amen.
there’s not much support for people who find themselves in this situation
Yes; it’s not often enough acknowledged that new assistant professors have just moved (a top life stressor!), have just started a new job (another one!) and are almost certainly in a town, possibly a state, where they don’t know anyone. Your entire support system is now the internets and maybe the phone. And your colleagues, no matter how lovely, are still colleagues on your new job, so it’s impolitic to talk to them about your doubts and insecurities. A recipe for massive burnout if there ever was one.
Which is why, in retrospect, I seriously recommend that all the lucky new hires take a really nice relaxing vacation between now and the fall, and for god’s sake, give yourself permission to take it easy.
April 17, 2009 at 10:38 am
kid bitzer
agree with the final paragraph.
while it would be nice to cushion the let-down, it would be much wiser, in the long run, to avoid the build-up.
i try to do my best, myself, by showing my grad students that life in academics has left me a miserable, friendless misanthrope who can’t afford a decent meal.
unfortunately, most of them can see that i was bound to wind up that way no matter what line of work i went into.
April 17, 2009 at 11:28 am
The Wrath of Oliver Khan
This is a good explanation of why I decided to bail on the whole thing a couple months before I defended my dissertation.
I went to graduate school because, with my BA alone, I was looking at a very limited set of career advancement options, and I wanted to take more control over my own life. Unfortunately, an academic career often prevents you from doing that, at least in terms of having options regarding where you live and work. Once I went out onto the market I got a pretty big dose of wake-the-fuck-up and realized that I could easily find myself in a *worse* situation, teaching in a place like Aberdeen, SD because that was the only interview to pan out for me (note: that’s a hypothetical only. I never interviewed at NSU).
So now I do other things and live more or less where I want to – or, more accurately, in a place that my wife and I both agree is pleasant and enjoyable enough to suit us both. Probably for the best.
(Also, my advisor was of course not at all happy with my decision, and once I placed a slimmed-down version of my dissertation with a very reputable publisher, he kept calling and emailing me, telling me I really needed to go back on the market, all the while implying that I somehow *owed* that much to the department. Yeesh.)
Anyway, rambling comment concluded.
April 17, 2009 at 11:33 am
Michael Elliott
This is a great post, Ari. I think that nearly everyone — even people who move to jobs in locations that they like, or at the kind of institutions they envisage — experience some kind of anticlimax. In addition to the reasons that you named, one of the reasons is that when PhDs move, they have adult lives that need reorganization, and that’s just always a messy process. But I think you are also right that the long build-up and sense of scarcity also feeds into the emotional difficulty of the moment.
I think that you are right that trying to find the rewards of the academic landscape is key. Those people I know who have moved successfully from one job to the next have usually been able to do so because they were able to figure out how to contribute to their first institution in ways that they found rewarding. They didn’t spend their time hating it. They kept looking around, but also tried to treat the place as though they might be there a long time.
There are also a lot of different ways to be an academic, a lot of different institutions (and even institutional roles) that people find deeply satisfying. But they have to get over the narrow-minded, research-oriented values of most graduate school faculty. Donald Hall’s “The Academic Self” is good on this.
Finally, I think that it’s worth pointing out that a certain percentage of academics always think that their job is beneath them. A good number of my colleagues at my near-Ivy school spend a lot of time wishing they were at an Ivy, and I think some of them keep hoping that Yale will call them up. That doesn’t seem to be the best way to spend a career.
April 17, 2009 at 12:44 pm
Sandie
ok, Ari,
I’m depressed now. The Wichitas don’t do it when you’ve lived by the Sierras. Oh, to be more adaptable!
April 17, 2009 at 12:53 pm
ari
Sorry, Sandie. The above discussion of friends was a shout-out to you and Ben, among others. Does that help?
April 17, 2009 at 1:00 pm
Sandie
Well, I wasn’t sure if I counted among the eccentrics or the friends, but, it only helps a little. Why did you abandon us?
April 17, 2009 at 1:01 pm
Jason B.
Please, somebody grant me this pain.
April 17, 2009 at 1:20 pm
ari
Why did you abandon us?
Because I hate real Americans and love coastal elites.
Please, somebody grant me this pain.
Yes, it’s a weird post — written from a place of extraordinary privilege and all that. Still, I think that many people find themselves surprised, upon reaching the mountain top, that they have very little sense of triumph. Or maybe I’m just wrong.
April 17, 2009 at 1:30 pm
Urk
Well, and the stresses of landing in this spot, with this little support, might contribute to the notion that I’ve heard form more than a few of my colleagues, that the untenured professor is the one on your committee that you really need to watch out for. Stress, insecurity, disappointment, they can all manifest themselves in some strange behaviors. I’m saying this to myself as much as anyone, trying to see the behavior of someone on my committee in the most charitable light possible.
April 17, 2009 at 1:37 pm
Jason B.
Or maybe I’m just wrong.
No, I’m sure you’re right. But, as you acknowledge in this post, it beats all hell out of not being offered a position. I fully appreciate that these reactions are legitimate and maybe even largely unavoidable. I’d just rather be posting ” Yeah, that’s what I experienced” than “I wish I knew that side of the equation.”
April 17, 2009 at 1:38 pm
dana
Please, somebody grant me this pain.
Seriously.
April 17, 2009 at 1:40 pm
ari
Yes, it’s much more comfortable for me to put up a post like this from my side of the equation. I’ve got what almost certainly will be the last job of my career, the job that, coincidentally, I identified as my dream job while I was still in graduate school. Like I said, a place of enormous privilege. Don’t think I don’t know it.
And Urk, is someone giving you static? You know you’ve got a posse, right?
April 17, 2009 at 1:55 pm
tf smith
I understand the point that “precious few people, even in times of plenty, are offered jobs they really want, at least not straight out of graduate school. This means they’ll have to move to a place they don’t want to move…” but this differs from those who finish school (high school, college, or grad school) with any other career path but academia how, exactly?
The bright teenager from Chicago who is interested in a career in oceanography/marine biology is probably going to re-locate, as is the New York City native who wants to be a large-animal vet, I expect…
April 17, 2009 at 1:58 pm
eric
tf smith makes an excellent point. Quite often, a lawyer friend of my acquaintance answers any complaint about the academic world—with the exception of the slender paycheck—with the retort that it’s virtually identical in the law.
April 17, 2009 at 2:02 pm
ari
tf, I don’t recall positing that the academic career path is exceptional.
April 17, 2009 at 2:02 pm
ari
eric, I don’t recall positing that the academic career path is exceptional.
April 17, 2009 at 2:06 pm
ari
And really, eric, you’re unable to debunk the argument that the downsides of the legal and academic job markets are “virtually identical”?
April 17, 2009 at 2:09 pm
dana
It differs from other fields somewhat in that there’s almost no choice in city or location. (It would be more like if our marine biologist from Chicago had a decent chance of ending up in Nebraska.) Were I in law, I might not want to move back near my mother, but I wouldn’t be telling her that there just weren’t any jobs in my area this year and have that likely mean “so I won’t be living near you, ever.”
April 17, 2009 at 2:10 pm
Sybil Vane
Thanks, ari.
April 17, 2009 at 2:17 pm
Michael Elliott
@ari: Academic exceptionalist.
April 17, 2009 at 3:04 pm
Jonathan Rees
So among academics we have the unhappy, the extremely unhappy and the small privileged few who feel guilty about being happy. Makes me wish I went to medical school.
April 17, 2009 at 3:35 pm
Ben Alpers
Sorry, Sandie. The above discussion of friends was a shout-out to you and Ben, among others. Does that help?
Thanks for the shout out, Ari.
And Sandie, I hope you take some comfort in the fact that you are in a unit devoted to scholarship and teaching (and history) and not whatever it is my unit is currently devoted to.
I know I often wish I were on the opposite side of Lindsey!
April 17, 2009 at 3:35 pm
ari
the unhappy, the extremely unhappy and the small privileged few who feel guilty about being happy
Seems about right. Though I’m not sure you haven’t just described the human condition. Or at least the Jewish human condition.
April 17, 2009 at 3:44 pm
Ben Alpers
I should add that I feel extremely mixed about my current position. Without airing too much dirty laundry, I am in a job that is in many ways very good (good teaching load, reasonable salary for the local cost of living, fine place to raise kids, tenured at the same institution as my wife, excellent colleagues), but that in other ways is insanely frustrating (and here’s where the not airing dirty laundry part kicks in…but I know Ari and Sandie have some idea to what I refer).
Yes I would love (and I mean love) to be somewhere politically saner than Oklahoma, with more natural beauty and more cultural opportunities. But what I’d really love is to be connected to a unit that cares about what I care about, that obviously values me and that I can honestly say I value (and I should emphasize–with continued to apologies about the vagueness of this all–that I love my colleagues; they’re not the problem).
I hated my years on the job market. I have gone on the market a few times since getting my current job. I even got another job (though this proved not to work out for my family and led to more bitter pills regarding my current employers’ feelings about me). So I wish that things had worked out better for me in this regard. What I don’t wish is that I’d spent more time trying to get a job somewhere else. It’s a time consuming and psychologically exhausting process even with the security of a job in hand.
So where does that leave me? Employed? Yes. Modestly happy in many aspects of my professional life? Absolutely. Deeply dissatisfied and frustrated with others? You bet.
April 17, 2009 at 3:54 pm
Urk
Thanks Ari. My back is covered. One of the advantages of being an aged grad ass, actually older than the person who’s being a thorn in my (and others’) side is the perspective to know what it looks like when someone is lashing out out of insecurity.
April 17, 2009 at 4:43 pm
Sandie
Yes, Ben, you’re right. I’m very fortunate to be in my dept. I like most of my colleagues, and the ones I don’t like, I can pretty easily avoid. I always say that I wish I could take my dept. and place it in another part of the country. But my superpower abilities are really quite limited.
April 17, 2009 at 4:46 pm
eric
I confess that I have greater sympathy for those who, through no fault of their own, did not get an offer of a tenure-track job immediately out of grad. school, than for those who did, but not at the bestest school evar.
I confess further (though it is no secret) that this is the class I fell into, once upon an unpleasant time—though even so, as someone who got a very nice temporary gig, I was more privileged than most.
April 17, 2009 at 5:09 pm
m. leblanc
eric, your lawyer friend is full of crap. There are things that suck about the legal job market, but they’re not the same things that suck about the academic job market. For example, I might have to move to find a job. I know my boyfriend just did, after not being able to find any job in Chicago.
But I won’t have to move to Wichita. To get a job in the legal market, you have to be flexible (i.e. I’m willing to look at jobs in Chicago, NY, and DC, and I am willing to work in a number of different fields within the general category of “public service and government”), but you dont have to be so flexible that you must agree to move somewhere that’s total shit where you don’t know anyone.
And the hiring sucks way less because it’s not an annualized thing.
April 17, 2009 at 5:10 pm
eric
Right, it’s not the job market he’s complaining about, it’s more the sense that the actual job is not like the job that he believed he was seeking—the sense that he signed up for a profession, a calling, and ended up with, you know, a job.
April 17, 2009 at 5:28 pm
Charlieford
I was fortunate to have several examples of folk who spent years wandering in the wilderness to help me keep myself in perspective. One friend had not one but two (very good) books out with reputable publishers, and still no job offer. Another friend spent four years teaching six courses a semester at three different schools, going nearly batty, and finally landed a beautiful job at a small college in the mountains of Montana. So when I got my job I was pretty thrilled. There were those moments between throwing together lectures on things I knew little about when I was tempted to grumble. I’d leave my office and walk the campus and remember those years as a grad student working the grounds crew in the summers and how miserable I had then been, because I couldn’t get much done on my diss. I popped back into that zeit, and knew how glad I would have been then to suddenly have the opportunity to lecture on Eisenhower’s “New Look” or the Erie Canal, and it always worked.
April 17, 2009 at 5:31 pm
Ben Alpers
I confess that I have greater sympathy for those who, through no fault of their own, did not get an offer of a tenure-track job immediately out of grad. school, than for those who did, but not at the bestest school evar.
Just to clarify: 1) I’m not looking for anyone’s sympathy for my present or past situations. I have always had it pretty good relatively speaking (even before I had a tenure track job); 2) I was on the job market for five years before I had a tenure-track offer, so I fall (or at least fell) into eric’s greater sympathy category, fwiw.
April 17, 2009 at 5:33 pm
Josh
Right, it’s not the job market he’s complaining about, it’s more the sense that the actual job is not like the job that he believed he was seeking—the sense that he signed up for a profession, a calling, and ended up with, you know, a job.
Had your lawyer friend had any experience with the legal industry prior to going to law school? This sense is exactly why I’d suggest that anyone interested in becoming a lawyer work as a paralegal for a year before applying: it’ll become immediately apparent that it’s just a job like any other.
April 17, 2009 at 7:17 pm
bitchphd
this differs from those who finish school (high school, college, or grad school) with any other career path but academia how, exactly?
I think this is a stretch. I’m sure there are other jobs that require people to move to places unknown, but the offered examples are pretty silly. Someone who wants to be a large animal vet is almost certainly going to be from a rural or at least suburban-near-rural background and know what that’s like (and is there a large animal vet school in NYC? I doubt it). The bright teenager from Chicago who’s interested in oceanography has probably been to the ocean (and if not, will presumably do so at some point along his/her educational path), and again, is far more likely than not to actually like ocean communitites.
The problem with academic relocation isn’t just moving, per se, or being distant from family, both of which are fairly common things (and suck to a certain extent). It’s that you can very easily end up moving to a place you literally know nothing about, have no experience with, and would never in a million years have dreamed of. That, on top of the moving per se and leaving family (or friends; after all, few grad students are studying in or near their home towns), is extremely stressful.
April 17, 2009 at 7:35 pm
andrew
There’s seems to be a fair amount of talk amongst library school attendees and recent graduates that you might need to relocate to get the particular type of job you want. Mostly seems to concern people who want to work in academic libraries and archives and as far as I can tell from this distance – I’ve not actually looked at the market myself – it’s not quite as tough as the professorial academic job market.
April 17, 2009 at 8:59 pm
teofilo
Planning is also a field where relocation can often be necessary, especially for recent graduates. It doesn’t seem to be quite as bad as academia, but one reason for that is that there are a hell of a lot more local governments in this country than there are colleges, so especially in major metropolitan areas it’s not generally too difficult to find some sort of planning job within reasonable commuting distance. (Not the case in all metropolitan areas, of course.) One other effect, however, is that sometimes the jobs are in places much smaller and more isolated than anywhere an academic is likely to end up.
For me, of course, this is a feature rather than a bug.
April 17, 2009 at 10:16 pm
TF Smith
I’m sorry, but this seems awfully close to feeling sorry for the guy who gets called up to the show from AAA ball, but to the Reds or Royals, rather than New York.
Cinncy or St. Louis may not be the Yankees, but it is still the major leagues, folks.
And a lot of people would be happy just to get to play someplace with grass, you know?
Or just to play, period.
April 17, 2009 at 11:35 pm
Farah
To the people who say: academia is not exceptional–there are some specific issues. For too many of us, our first job is our last. It’s a profession in which one can move at the bottom or at the top, very little moving takes place in between. There is also a real sense of “luck” about it all because poor funding structures in the UK and USA means that hiring patterns take place in generational waves. This can affect one’s work experience as well. In my history department, I was the youngest person for *eight years*. At the age of 35 I was still considered “the baby” and too inexperienced to do anything. Only when I moved disciplines into one with a different age profile was I “allowed” to take on admin jobs.
Advice to young academics:
1. No matter what, write. If you can’t get research funding for x, work on y. Always have something on the go. Be prepared for when an opportunity does arise and take it, even if it seems a bit off centre or at the wrong time (the biggest mistake I hear is “it’s a good opportunity but now is the wrong time”–a) it’s here now, b) there is never a good time c) if you say yes to this, other things will follow).
2. Do not make your department your life: organise conferences, offer to be a review editor, find a fascinating hobby.
I had three miserable years as a young academic, five rather confined and cramped ones, and only now are things working for me, but I stayed saner than others I know by always, always working on my own stuff.
April 17, 2009 at 11:44 pm
chingona
Recent journalism grads often find themselves in strange parts of the country. It’s very hard to break into the big media markets (that is, cities most people right out of college actually want to live in) without a lot of experience, unless you’re willing to do PR. Wichita would be not bad at all for a first job. And these days, it’s only the really small newspapers that are hiring at all. There are a lot of jobs out there, but only in communities too small for Craigslist.
April 17, 2009 at 11:47 pm
chingona
So I kind of look like an asshole posting that after Farah. I also was going to add that another difference is we have a lot less invested in our degrees. Changing plans when all you have is a B.S. is not as big a deal, though journalism does have that vocational quality that can make it hard to give up.
April 17, 2009 at 11:50 pm
Farah
No worries chingona, I find most people have very little idea about just how inflexible the academic job market is.
April 18, 2009 at 12:00 am
Michael Turner
know that you’re not alone.
Oh, ari. You had to go and make me remember this. (Arguably rather derivative, but who cares, when your beer is salted with your own tears.)
April 18, 2009 at 2:25 am
va
I think it’s so funny that while what ari says here strikes me as obviously true, it has to be presented as a dirty secret. I’m not criticizing the post, more how the academic world thinks about itself. Is there any institution or profession that occasionally has to admit it can be terrible for people’s lives but nevertheless commands such fealty? And isn’t the academic career path exceptional in this regard? What other profession sends its apprentices through anything like the multi-tiered hell of grad school, which is just as full of misery as academic jobs described here, but with worse pay? Even cults have to promise some reward in the hereafter to get people to agree to do what academics do as a matter of course. (That’s way hyperbolic, yes, but not madly hyperbolic when you think about how contingent faculty live.) Needless to say, I’m deeply skeptical of the whole academic Matrix. But I’m still plugged in, whee!
Special thanks to bitchphd–your comments made me feel less psycho for wondering why I have such problems with this gig (even though, admittedly, I probably sound like a psycho).
April 18, 2009 at 5:52 am
dana
Changing plans when all you have is a B.S. is not as big a deal, though journalism does have that vocational quality that can make it hard to give up.
I think the age at which one finishes the required schooling is part of what makes a career in the academy a pain. Starting over when you’re 22, when you have a B.A., when it’s acceptable to your friends and family to be unsure what you want to do, is completely different than being in your early thirties, after a decade of preparation, perhaps with a trailing spouse or small children, and finding that the brass ring is gold-colored plastic sometimes.
Or even if it’s not that bad, it’s still a bit of a letdown. So much of graduate school is geared towards that day when you get a job, and then you do, and then there aren’t rainbows and unicorns, just committee meetings.
April 18, 2009 at 7:19 am
touhy
I think part of the problem with academics, besides the long career prep described by Dana, is that most academics have always been at the top of the class in all stages of their lives. They were often their high school valedictorian, and they may have been the only one in a family to go to college (or the only one in their high school to make it to the Ivy League or other top-tier undergraduate institution). In those undergraduate institutions, they were also at or near the top, praised by professors, pushed forward into graduate school. They got great GRE scores. They won fellowships, presented at conferences, got published. They went on the job market and actually got interviews.
Then the one job offer comes through and they end up in a place they’ve never heard of and teaching students totally unlike themselves at that age. For this they worked hard at school for 20 or more years? For this they led a nerdy monastic existence?
And then all of this applies to people who don’t get tenure-track jobs as well, only with less money and less stability. I’ve taken to discouraging students from going to graduate school, or at least being very clear with them about their odds of becoming a faculty member, and what that is actually like and how much people typically make.
That said, the advice above about working on your own stuff no matter what else is happening is very wise. Even though it might consititute only a small part of your job, the research is what keeps you connected and feeling like an expert on something. And it is often the only real difference between teaching college and teaching high school. And, depending on the high school, that is often a really good choice for students who love their subject, enjoy kids, and want to have some choice about where they live and what kind of life they want to live outside of work time.
April 18, 2009 at 9:24 am
TF Smith
I obviously see this very differently than some, which undoubtedly has more to do with my own somewhat atypical background than a more traditional academic path…but for whatever its worth, given the ending of the current LWIA, academics may find themselves dealing with more students like me, so here goes:
I’m a mid-life returnee to college (part-time in a masters program) who works full-time (40-50 hours per week) in a field that is related, but not the same, as where I spent most of my professional life. I spent most of the first two decades of my working life in a field that required frequent movement, separation from family, and the occasional risk of life and limb…and it was not secondary school teaching.
So with due regard to the realities of academia, the level of empathy on these issues (regarding TT professors’ challenges) from the incoming Gen Xs, Ys, and millenials who come from a similar background as mine may not be huge…
April 18, 2009 at 9:32 am
Colin
I’ll also endorse Farah’s advice. One privilege of academic employment is that you can steer your own ship researchwise, and construct a research community — so adopt one or two annual conferences, organize sessions, get to know people across the world with linked interests. You can engage the world like this no matter where you happen to be located in space.
In a somewhat parallel way, take an active interest in pedagogy. No matter what you have to teach, try some new things, seek out innovative teachers and learn new tricks from them, get interested in your students. This may sound platitudinous, but notice how little joy is attached to teaching in the comments so far. It’s the first responsibility of most academic jobs, and a junior academic who can’t get into it is bound to be alienated and miserable.
April 18, 2009 at 9:39 am
Farah
TF Smith: kudos to you. I’d never compare my situation to yours. And by the way: you sound like my dream student.
Touhy: I work in a university that takes mostly non-traditional students. We have some support for research, but we are not one of the greats. Yes, I’d love to have more research support, but I’m not actually someone who would necessarily like the Ivy League/Oxbridge students. I’ve been teaching late returners, working class kids with lousy educations but lots of grey matter, immigrant kids (and second and third generation) who have never before heard their origin country’s literature validated. I love it. When it looked as if I might be leaving last year, I was really stressed.
April 18, 2009 at 9:42 am
ari
But tf, neither I nor anyone else here is asking for your empathy or even your sympathy. Which isn’t to say you’re wrong, of course, just that you seem to be thinking the post and comments are something other than what they are: a recognition that even the ostensible moment of triumph for academics on the market can be bittersweet. Seriously, nobody (at least as far as I can tell) is seeking sympathy. And the original post certainly acknowledges that we, academics with tenure-track jobs, have it better than people in many, many other professions.
April 18, 2009 at 9:50 am
TF Smith
Ari –
Thank you for the kind words; I know I would enjoy one of your classes, as well. My apologies for mis-reading your post; I am more obtuse than usual, lately.
Best,
April 18, 2009 at 10:21 am
Mr. Sidetable
I would absolutely second Colin’s comments about taking an activist interest in pedagogy, since teaching is, after all, the core component of almost all academic jobs. Which is odd, given that no academic I know–and I mostly know people in the humanities and social sciences–seems to genuinely like teaching (and sure, people will always protest that they *do* genuinely like to teach, but have you ever heard of anybody negotiating for MORE teaching rather than less?).
April 18, 2009 at 10:33 am
Farah
I like teaching as does my Head of Department. Although neither of us is asking for more (we have other responsibilities) both of us refuse to give up the teaching we have.
April 18, 2009 at 7:49 pm
Chris
Just a small one, from the great Gary Snyder:
REMOVING THE PLATE OF THE PUMP ON THE HYDRAULIC SYSTEM OF THE BACKHOE [For Burt Hybart]
Through mud, fouled nuts, black grime
it opens, a gleam of spotless steel
machined-fit perfect
swirl of intake and output
relentless clarity
at the heart
of work.
–Gary Snyder [from "Nets"]
April 18, 2009 at 8:21 pm
Michael Turner
I must admit, I was also a little incredulous about this post of ari’s, but for different reasons than some others here. My reaction this: “What?! Nothing prepared people on this career track for the possibility that they might end up gazing, with wild surmise, silent upon a peak in, say, Wichita (don’t you get all dizzy with the elevation now), because they wanted to be a professor at a four-year college?”
Then I realized I might be the product of peculiar educational circumstances. My first two years of college — three, if you count college courses I took in my senior year of high school — were at a junior college in a toney suburb in the SF Bay Area. A number of my professors there had PhDs, and from fine schools at that — a bit unusual for junior colleges, I think. (Perhaps this is how they’d justified a name-change: from Marin Junior College to College of Marin.) The student-teacher ratio, and the very positive attitudes of most professors about teaching, were conducive to relationships with professors that were significantly more relaxed and personal than I ever experienced after transferring to U.C. Berkeley. It probably didn’t hurt in getting to know these teachers as people rather than demi-gods that I was usually conspicuously excited about what they were teaching, and usually performed well in their classes.
Some of them could have been professors at four year schools, but just didn’t want to make the personal sacrifices such career moves required. One of them in particular told me it was important to him to provide a decently comfortable life for his children, but also to live in a relatively cosmopolitan part of the country; given his choices of academic posts, and the higher costs of living in parts of the U.S. he and his wife wanted to live in, this meant putting the emphasis on where his wife could make some serious money. (She was not an academic; maybe an accountant or financial analyst? I can’t remember, it’s been more than 30 years.) I could go on with the stories, but I think that one is illustration enough.
So it occurs to me now: maybe, just maybe, in my first two years of college, I was able to get more insight into dismaying career-choice dilemmas in academia than many people get in six years of college or even in eight. Also (not that it’s particularly relevant to this discussion), those two years might have been the peak of my regard for the whole process of formal education. High school had seemed to me a dehumanizing machine. And so did U.C. Berkeley, later — for students, yes, of course, but also, to some extent, for the faculty, at least to the extent that I could dimly perceive what many of them were going through (or what it had done to them.) Not getting to Valhalla might hurt — but Valhalla itself can be a pretty bruising place too.
April 18, 2009 at 8:43 pm
dana
“What?! Nothing prepared people on this career track for the possibility that they might end up gazing, with wild surmise, silent upon a peak in, say, Wichita (don’t you get all dizzy with the elevation now), because they wanted to be a professor at a four-year college?”
There’s a difference between knowing that being shot is painful and feeling the pain of being shot. So to speak.
Moreover, in some ways it’s like starting over and starting a new career all at once. One has been a grad student in a program for a long time (I think seven years is average in the humanities, maybe longer), and the new job usually involves a move. So, new colleagues, new city, new location, probably new state, new responsibilities (which are often invisible to you as a grad student). All of those things would be stressful for anyone.
April 19, 2009 at 7:14 am
Michael Turner
That was Dana, extending his almost unbroken pattern of not reading enough of what I wrote to see what I was really saying.
April 19, 2009 at 7:43 am
dana
I read it. I suspect that’s not entirely it; there are plenty of graduate students who do not have the stereotypical Ivy League undergrad, prestigious grad program background. Most, maybe. I know a few who went the junior college – small college – grad school route, too, and what’s weird is that many of them know (or think they know) what it would be like to teach at a small school in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes they are at a grad school in the middle of nowhere. And many of them feel let down, too. I think ari’s right, that it’s the realization that this is it is itself the letdown.
I think it’s not that no one understands that there will be sacrifices; it’s emotionally understanding that just at the point when you’ve successfully secured a position (making you statistically the lucky one.)
April 19, 2009 at 9:35 am
beamish
That was Dana, extending his almost unbroken pattern of not reading enough of what I wrote to see what I was really saying.
Sexist.
April 19, 2009 at 11:59 am
Ben Alpers
“What?! Nothing prepared people on this career track for the possibility that they might end up gazing, with wild surmise, silent upon a peak in, say, Wichita (don’t you get all dizzy with the elevation now), because they wanted to be a professor at a four-year college?”
1) The Wichita mountains are nowhere near Wichita. They’re in Southwestern Oklahoma, near Lawton. If you’re looking for something else nearby named “Wichita,” Wichita Falls, TX is a lot closer than Wichita, KS.
2) ari mentioned the Wichita mountains not as a symbol of the horror of his first job, but rather as a compensating factor. As an original colleague of ari’s who is still in the same job (which, for all its frustrations, is distinctly non-horrible, IMO), let me second his sense that the Wichitas are very nice to have nearby. Seriously, if you’re ever in this neck of the woods, they’re worth a visit. And stop off for a Meersburger while you’re there!
April 19, 2009 at 2:45 pm
Carl
Privilege comes in two kinds. There’s the kind where you’re grateful, and there’s the kind where you wish there was another mattress or two between you and the pea.
April 19, 2009 at 7:22 pm
Western Dave
As an aside, let me preach to all you grad students who kept being told to stop putting so much time into your teaching. There’s a place for you. It’s called Independent Schools. You’ll still have to tech outside your expertise a lot (just like you will at most schools) but you’ll likely have a lot of support to do it. You’ll have choice where you live, smart colleagues, rewarding relationships with your students and (usually) their parents, and you’ll cry a lot at graduations because you care. And you’ll learn more about teaching than you thought possible. And you might have time to get your book out. I haven’t but others have. (Peter Laipson, Joe Moreau come to mind).
Teaching in independent schools is a good career option for history PhDs who care about teaching. Check the NAIS, Quaker school, and Klingenstein websites for openings. Unfortunately, this is not a great year for getting hired.
April 19, 2009 at 7:51 pm
dana
Do you mean on the high school level? One of my friends studied African history and now teaches at independent schools and loves it.
April 19, 2009 at 11:21 pm
Michael Turner
Sexist
You’re right, ari. I guess I was just writing with the image, fresh in my mind, of someone experiencing the pain of getting shot. Since most gunshot victims are male, I must have been unconsciously ticked a gender box in my mind, one that I’d been leaving blank. Dana’s “so to speak” didn’t register as “speaking figuratively.” (Been way too close to getting shot, which perhaps leaves me disinclined to treat such comparisons figuratively.)
Ben, when I wrote “Wichita”, I meant Wichita, Kansas of course. It was my way of saying, “things could be worse, as Wichitas go, if you like mountains.”
I actually do try to follow the discussion, you know. Maybe my sense of humor is too indirect sometimes.
April 19, 2009 at 11:26 pm
ari
Wait, that wasn’t me call you sexist, Michael; it was beamish up there. You’re not using IE to read the blog, are you? Bill Gates has a comment jumbler installed in the program. Or so I’m led to believe.
April 20, 2009 at 2:16 am
Michael Turner
Sorry, ari. No, it was the comment jumbler in my brain, triggered by orbital mind control lasers. Those are controlled by Bill Gates, though, so you’re half-right anyway. Whenever I see the letters ‘B’, ‘E’, ‘A’ and ‘M’ in a row — that’s what triggers it.
I know what you’re thinking: “What a supervenient excuse.” But that’s what they want you to think.
April 20, 2009 at 6:14 am
beamish
I was thinking of calling Michael and anti-semite, but I’m worried that it wouldn’t be taken in the proper spirit of fun.
So instead: don’t worry about it. Even so, I think you should hold off for a while on saying that Dana doesn’t understand what people write.
April 20, 2009 at 7:20 am
balpers
Ben, when I wrote “Wichita”, I meant Wichita, Kansas of course. It was my way of saying, “things could be worse, as Wichitas go, if you like mountains.”
I know you meant Wichita, KS (hence my response) but I misread you as misunderstanding ari’s link to an image of the Wichita Mountains as representing a Kansan topographical feature.
Clearly I’m suffering the effects of too many conversations with members of my (very coastal family) whose sense of geography between the Rockies (or, on a bad day, the Sierras) and the Alleghenies sometimes leaves much to be desired.
April 20, 2009 at 7:21 am
Ben Alpers
Whoops….that was me in the last comment. When I’m logged into WordPress I become “balpers.”
April 20, 2009 at 7:31 am
dana
That’s your history street-name.
April 20, 2009 at 8:39 am
Michael Turner
I think you should hold off for a while on saying that Dana doesn’t understand what people write.
I was planning on saying that? The only way you could believe that, beamish, is if you’d set those orbital mind control lasers to make me plan on saying that. I guess they malfunctioned — the only impulse I’m feeling right now involves calling Ari an anti-semite, and for some reason I’m having no trouble quelling it.
We Terrans will soon be liberated from your mind-shackles. I see behind your curtain now. I thought you were a beam, but it turns out you’re only beamish.
April 20, 2009 at 12:55 pm
Western Dave
Yeah, independent schools = private schools. Mine is a pre-k 12 and now that I’ve been here a while, I’m starting to work with middle and lower school teachers developing curriculum. In itself a whole new challenge.
April 23, 2009 at 1:19 pm
Thomas
It reminds me of another awful(ly necessary) lesson I had to learn in a research methods class; where the demoralized instructor declared: “just like anything in life, don’t expect too much out of statistics.”
April 29, 2009 at 6:29 am
academic mom
Ari,
Thanks for your comments. I truly appreciate them. I’m working part-time in order to be more available to my children and have been pining away for an academic position. Today, I will count my blessings instead. I will enjoy the quiet low-stress tasks ahead of me. Laundry isn’t very mentally challenging, but can be very satisfying once the clothes are neatly folded and put away. Ah yes, life in academia is not perfect. Thanks.
Did you know you were picked up by The Chronicle On Hiring?
http://chronicle.com/jobs/blogs/onhiring/index.php?id=1007&utm_source=oh&utm_medium=en
May 13, 2009 at 7:37 am
vn
I’m a new reader, thanks to Gabriela Montell’s quote in The Chronicle of Higher Education.
First, let me say that the comments here are much broader in scope and better reasoned than those that have been posted to the Chronicle, and more enjoyable to read.
Second, I may be different than many because I went into higher education and got a Ph.D. in order to teach, not necessarily to do research. Also, I enjoyed graduate school, but do not enjoy my job at an independent liberal arts university. Because almost all of the things that I liked about graduate school are absent here.
Third, One does not go into a career in higher education for the salary unless one enjoys the status of “working class professional.” The simple knowledge that an Associate Professor of History or English earns only 60% as much as his/her optometrist, and only 47% as much as her/his dentist is sobering if not depressing. No, one goes into higher education for “love” not “money.”
As I see it the major motivations among my colleagues and mentors are the love of 1) research, 2) teaching, or 3) creativity/writing. And, a few super humans seem to love all three! Other attractive affective and humanistic considerations to a career in academia include a flexible schedule (i.e. work/family balance) (the “freedom” that #3 spoke of?), a comfortable physical working environment (the “privileges” that #3 spoke of?), a supportive working environment, creative freedom, intellectual freedom, a great cultural/community life, prestige within the community, and respect among one’s peers.
The way some of us got through many years of post-secondary education, and certainly through several years of work on a grueling dissertation project, is to believe that “the end justifies the means.” Or, as Joe (#20 on the Chronicle article) put it, “we typically idealize the goal.” Then comes the awakening to the reality of a career in which not only is the income (and often benefits) poor compared to other “professions,” but only a couple of the other considerations are in fact real… perhaps the comfortable physical working environment and prestige within the community. The rest are all illusory, even the ones that seem to be part of the job description turn out to not be a part of the job.
I agree that this situation is not unique to higher education, there are a few analogous fields of endeavor, though only a few. And the unique aspects of little control over job location, job scarcity/competitiveness, near impossibility of moving in mid-career, and cyclical annual hiring calendar, make academics a bit different. Therefore, I agree with Ari that the experience is for most people “disheartening. A sense of anti-climax.”
May 13, 2009 at 7:42 am
vn
Follow up to my already huge post… the “#3″ refers to a poster on The Chronicle.