Your New Mantra

If you are thinking about quitting academe, are frustrated by the working conditions, low pay, and lack of opportunities, I recommend repeating the following words to yourself every morning when you wake up, before you teach your next class, grade your next assignment, and work on your next article or dissertation chapter:

This is work. 

I am a professional. 

Professionals get paid. 

End of story.

*     *     *     *     *

Those words are a quote by a postdoc. If you don't follow the world of science blogs, go here to read the full story. Although in context they don't relate to academic employment, I have no trouble imagining they easily could. 

In a nutshell, the postdoc is a scientist and respected blogger who also happens to be black and female. When invited to guest blog elsewhere, she inquired about compensation and was called a "whore" for daring to decline an unpaid gig. The post I've linked to is her response, and we might all take a lesson from it.

*     *     *     *     *

Really, the longer I work outside academe, the more mystified I become at how many smart people back on the inside are willing to sell themselves short. 

The bottom line is that academic work is WORK. If you don't feel you're being adequately compensated -- whether you define compensation in terms of money, respect, opportunities, or all of the above -- take a stand for the VALUE of the work you are doing.

Now, repeat with me and the rest of the post-ac community:

This is work. 

I am a professional. 

Professionals get paid. 

End of story.

No, this post is not really about wombat poop, but I promise you'll get to see some!

Apparently, according to some Internet weirdo, I am now a Koch-funded stealth operative sent to infiltrate the Petting Zoo. Ipso facto, the Petting Zoo is now a Koch-funded front group out to promote Evil and Destroy the World.

Uhhhhh ... ... ... huh ??????? I'd link, but, you know, the sham of anonymity and all ...

The Internet is full of weirdos.

It's pretty funny, actually, but it does make you wonder what goes on inside people's heads.

Here's what happened:

The Petting Zoo lately has been doing some work on Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop.

[Oh, go on and watch the video. You know your day won't be complete until you watch a wombat shit square turds!]

There was a report, an event, and a bunch of blog posts and other publications. I have been involved in all of this work. You might call me an expert on Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop That Floats. I am an expert not in the sense that I did original Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop research but that I have read the peer-reviewed literature, talked with academics who did do it, looked at the consequences and implications for policy, and spewed my analysis of the whole Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop -- with especial attention to That Which Floats -- situation out to the world in ordinary, everyday person language.

And, to be clear, I did not work alone. Many Petting Zoo colleagues were involved. Enviro Shark, for example, is an expert in Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop That Sinks. The Big Dolphin is an expert in Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop That Won't Flush. And so on. You get the idea. We did some research on some shit and then we published some shit on the shit we researched.

And now there are some people who think we full of shit. Well, it's really just this one weirdo that targeted me personally (getting to that -- just a sec!) that has gone to such extremes, but it arises, I think, from the fact that the PZ's conclusions about Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop did not entirely align with the views of some of the organization's traditional allies. Whereas many of them would like to ban Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop, the PZ has been calling for better regulation, more research, and more transparency. In other words, sanity and pragmatism.

So, this Internet weirdo woman is apparently on the PZ's email list and gets a message about one of the publications. She is incensed. She cannot fathom why the PZ would be saying the things it appears to be saying. It strikes her as sinister. Perhaps there are evil machinations behind the scenes. Why would the PZ say these things? Why would the PZ claim there is scientific evidence for the things they are saying when these things just don't jibe with her only lonely oneofakind superspecial mustberight personal experience conclusively non-empirically linking Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop with the Apocalypse?

She thinks she smells ... ...

wait for it ... wait for it ... wait for it ...

Now, say it with me, folks: She thinks she smells The Kochtopus!

And so she goes digging around, and what does she find? Well, for starters, she must have Googled the names of all of us at the PZ associated with the Fuzzy Purple Wombat Poop work. She found an old webpage from Think Tank (remember them?) with my bio on it. Think Tank has long since deleted my bio from its website, but the cached page still appears in search results. [I know there's gotta be a way to fix this!]

Internet Weirdo Crazy Lady must have thought she found gold.

And she also must have been having some reading comprehension issues. In her mind, the tentacles of the Kochtopus apparently have the power to turn the past into the present and merge the two into one Evil Kochtopia because she seemed to think I was currently employed at BOTH Think Tank and the Petting Zoo, even thought my bio on the PZ website clearly states that I USED TO work at Think Tank. I don't try to hide it, but she seemed to think she had uncovered some big ugly dirty secret. Then she claimed, almost with a sigh of relief, that I was not an author of the one particular publication she most objected to, but that publication clearly DOES list me as an author.

Shhhhhh!!!!!!! Don't let the cat out of that litterbox of doom.

I Started a Meme

So funny ... so, as I've mentioned in woefully bygone posts (sorry I've been kinda absent around here lately), I blog these days for the Petting Zoo. I have a bit in my mouth over there as far as what I can and can't say. You know: Stay on message, no profanity, don't insult anyone, be careful with humor because people might take it the wrong way. Booooooooooooring .... right?

I try to play by the rules and have been pretty good about behaving myself. But I can't resist playing around every now and then. A while back I made a reference to Shakespeare in a post. It wasn't subtle or anything. Just a little play on words to get readers' attention. I didn't think anything of it other than it made the writing (and hopefully reading) of that post slightly more fun.

Then a few weeks later, a colleague in a totally different program -- someone I don't even know very well who doesn't even blog that much -- used the same Shakespeare quote in a different way. I thought, "Well, that's nice. A little weird, but I guess imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." The next time I saw that colleague I said, "I liked your post. You saw mine, right?"  Colleague said, "Haha, yeah. That was exactly how I was thinking about it, though."

Then, a few days ago, ANOTHER colleague makes reference to a DIFFERENT Shakespeare play. This was actually a little more subtle. I didn't even get the wordplay in the title until I opened the post, and then it hit me right away. And I was like, "Hahahahahahahahahahaha! That's awesome. "

Look at the havoc one literature nerd can wreak outside of academe. Now it's on, people!

Headed West

For a big Petting Zoo event this week. Won't be spending too much time on the beach, alas, but maybe I'll find an hour somewhere. A sunset would be nice.

Big Stinky Flower

That video is from 2007. Although not from the  U.S. Botanic Garden, it is coincidentally the last time the DC titan arum or "corpse flower" bloomed, too. It's supposed to smell like a rotting mammal.

The one in DC is supposed to be unleashing its stench any day now. I can't wait!

Two Cats in a Doorway

That's Luca up top and Midnight below. They're semi feral, but they know we're suckers and come around begging for food because they know we'll feed them. I don't know how Luca gets up to that perch. I believe it involve something like a four foot jump from the top of the neighbors' fence. He's a bit of an acrobat. Midnight is also known as Growler because he growls all the time but is gentle as can be.

Eh, maybe I spoke too soon

I really should learn to stop complaining so much. The Big Dolphin was in town today and we chatted about some of that stuff in yesterday's post. I didn't bring up my future employment, but ze did hirself. Essentially, they do see me (at least the Big Dolphin and Enviro Shark do - and they're the ones that matter) as integral to the program, and the Petting Zoo is interested in making my position permanent if funding can be found in a year.

However, that last part is the catch. I am not at all certain funding will be found. And I still have concerns about many of the things I've complained about the past few days.There are still people here who would prefer I went somewhere else. And the issues with organizational culture remain.

I suppose what that means is I need to keep my eyes and ears open to new opportunities -- figure out what they are, find people doing things I might like to do, and generally make connections -- so that however things shake down over the next year, I have options.

And in response to today's search terms ....

It seems lots of you are getting here today via searches for "want to quit adjuncting" and "back out of adjunct contract." Summer term getting you down? Fall semester planning making you depressed?

Well, welcome! If you've read some of my whinier recent posts about my current post-ac job experiences and wondered whether I have ANY regrets about leaving two and a half years ago, well .......

Fuck NO I don't have any regrets!!!

I'll take the Petting Zoo's bullshit or Think Tank's delusional lunacy ANY DAY over academe. At least I get paid a living wage out here. And the more time that passes and the more things I do, the more opportunities I have -- exactly the OPPOSITE of academe.

Now, if you have something lined up and you're ready to quit, march that adjunct contract over to the shitster in your department who led you to believe you were privileged to have the honor of being offered $2500 per class and go rip that piece of crap to shreds in their face.Trust me, they're not going to sue you. There are too many others eagerly willing to take your place.

And then go get on with your life. And maybe start a blog.

Exotic Animals on the Loose ...

I suppose I shouldn't complain so much about life at the Petting Zoo. Although I started this blog two and a half years ago as a vehicle to vent post-ac frustrations, I probably would have been delighted to have found myself sitting where I now sit, doing what I now do, at the PZ at that time. And in reality, it didn't take me all that long to get here.

But in the intervening time, I have come to realize some things about what I value in a nonacademic workplace:

• intellectually interesting tasks
• independence
• being an integral member of a team
• acknowledgement and reward for good performance

The first two are obvious carryovers from academia. Most people go into academia because they want intellectually interesting work, and they want independence doing it. I have discovered those things are possible in nonacademic workplaces, albeit they may take different forms than you'd expect.

But while my work at the PZ, for the most part, is intellectually interesting (or is tied to an intellectually interesting larger goal), a lot of my frustrations result from a lack in the other three elements. 

I have the illusion of independence: I can come and go as I please. I structure my own time. I make at least some decisions about what I work on. But ... as yesterday's post illustrated in small part, there's an umbrella of oversight and control that can be stifling -- to creativity, productivity, and impact. It's counterproductive. Ultimately, the amount of control isn't just about me. It slows the program's progress. Significantly. And this adds yet another layer of frustration. I'm not the only one who complains about it, but nothing ever changes. It's organizational culture, and the individuals with the power to change things are themselves invested in that culture.

Additionally, although I wouldn't have known it coming straight from academe, being integral to a team is important to me and does not at all necessarily create a conflict with independence. As I've said before, my position at the PZ has an end date because it is funded through a nonrenewable source (ah, nonprofits -- gotta love 'em!). If another funding source emerged, the position, in theory, could be extended indefinitely or made permanent. And I arrived here committed to being an integral part of the program -- for however long my time here would be.

Other people, however, have viewed me from the beginning as "temporary" and have treated me as such. I strongly suspect that had the external funding source not materialized, they would have foisted a certain amount of my work on a certain other person (already here, already overloaded, and now leaving for grad school this coming fall -- one doesn't wonder why) and left a certain other amount simply undone because it's not viewed as essential.

Moreover, because a few still continue to hold my previous experience at Think Tank and New Think Tank against me, they can't wait for me to leave and make it clear they'll be glad when I'm gone because I don't "belong" and clearly don't have enough "passion" for the Grand Cause.

What's the upshot of this? I get excluded from meetings and conversations I should be a part of. I am overlooked for tasks and responsibilities even when I VOLUNTEER to take them on above and beyond what I am "supposed" to be doing. I've even volunteered to get involved with development because, in theory, if I could raise money I'd become myself a more tangible asset. I was looped in initially on one effort and did some research and created a presentation for the Big Dolphin that went well. And then, when the would-be donor asked for a more substantive proposal, I was looped out. Why? Because Pink Elephant (remember hir?) had taken the lead, and Pink Elephant is one of those people who thinks I don't belong here and can't wait for me to leave.

Does wonders for one's morale. And, let's not forget, credit for my ideas, insights, and flat out WORK sometimes goes to other people, as if I am invisible.

Which brings me to the last item on my list: acknowledgement and reward for good performance. One of the reasons I insisted on being allowed to write for the PZ blog (even though it took NINE freakin' months of pestering on my part to get them to let me take the required three-hour "training") was that it would mean a public track record of at least small scale work that no one else could take credit for. So far, that's been more or less working out. People like my blog posts (despite yesterday's reaction from Polar Bear), and I even got a compliment from the PZ executive director, who generally stays out of this level of affairs. So, that's all good and well. But blogging isn't the substance of what I do at the PZ (or should I say "for"?), and if, at the end of the day, no one will acknowledge or reward the more substantive things I do, it's time for me to plot an exit strategy.

*Sigh*

I have plenty of time to figure it out ... but wish me luck. I'd like the next "next" job to be one where I can stay awhile.

Another Day at the Petting Zoo

Today began with a blog post on the PZ blog. It was in response to something in the news. Didn't seem like a big deal. The day went something like this:

Me: "Hey everyone! There was a big splash outside. Shall I write a blog post about the splatter pattern?"

Enviro Shark and the Big Dolphin: "Sure, that's a great idea." So, around 11 AM, I take a half hour and write the post. It's about 400 words. But the PZ is big on review, even for something this short, so when I'm done I circulate to Enviro Shark (ze is another analyst).

Enviro Shark and I usually see things more or less eye to eye. Ze gets back to me an hour later: "This is great! I suggested some links and changed three words."

Me: "Thanks for those great suggestions." I make the changes and then circulate to the Big Dolphin and the Jackal (they run stuff).

Big Dolphin and Jackal around 3:30 PM: "This is great! Add these four words and send to Sleepy Tiger."

Sleepy Tiger posts things to the website. At this late hour, I am concerned Sleepy Tiger will not post the post today, and it's already so late the splatter pattern has mostly dried off the pavement. But at the PZ, "rapid response" can sometimes easily mean three weeks.

So I am pleasantly surprised when Sleepy Tiger replies promptly that ze has posted my post. Yay. Woot! I send around an email that the post is up.

No sooner have I done this when Polar Bear, who is the program director of a program I am not part of, lumbers over to my office: "That post was all wrong. Why did you write that post? It wasn't radical enough to save my iceberg. You let the polar bear hunting corporations off easy. They need to die Die DIE!!!"

Me: "Um, do I work for you? The Big Dolphin and the Jackal approved it. They run the Expanding Habitats program. You run Frozen Tundra. Thanks, but, you know, um ... no thanks."

Polar Bear: "You're gonna get some nasty comments."

Me: "OK ... And?

Polar Bear: "I'm telling ya, you're gonna get NASTY comments."

Me, puzzled: "Uh, okaay. Do I look scared?"

Polar Bear, lumbering towards the door, shaking hir head: "Umhumhum, yes indeed, those comments might be mean."

We'll have to see whether I get ANY comments. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say, based on previous posts, that's a nope, probably not. I'd actually be excited to get mean comments. I could play at being Defender of Expanding Habitats. Yeah!!!!

Polar Bear then lumbers over to Enviro Shark's office and gives hir the same speech. WTF? Enviro Shark didn't even write the post. And doesn't even have the power to give it thumbs up or thumbs down. We run posts by each other to test out before sending to the jackal and the dolphin.

Whatever ... Enviro Shark and I are apparently in cahoots to start a revolt in the PZ.

Personality type

I was bored earlier, so I took one of those online Myers-Briggs tests. I don't know how reliable they are, but the description of my results seemed to match a lot of my personality traits, both strengths and weaknesses. I hadn't ever taken one before (or if I had, I don't remember).

Apparently, I am an INTJ. That's one of the rarer ones, especially among women. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

What are you?

Rabbit Hole

Three mainstream news sources cite the same peer-reviewed study. They pin THREE different numbers on ONE of its findings. WTF!

As far as I can tell, news source #1 is referring to something totally different but somewhow this slipped by the editor.

News source #2 dropped the original figure from 85 percent to 82 percent. WTF? It does not change the significance of the main finding that more than 80 percent of TweedleDeeDum was fucked up.

News source #3 gets the number right, I think, but I feel compelled now to track down the original just to be sure as this is relating to something in a Petting Zoo report.

Goddamm. There goes Friday afternoon ...

If only!!!!!!!!

Just because ...

you know how to use Google docs AND Excel AND Word does NOT mean you need to update three versions of the SAME motherfucking document in all three formats.

Gah.

Today is begining to remind me of those old administrative annoyances at Think Tank.

PZ, you can do better! Really, you can!! I'm going to just keep telling myself that. WTF!!!

I thought I was done with this shit. Likker lobby, anyone??

Can you see me ....

working for the liquor lobby? There's an interesting job posting I happened upon. It's at one of the nearby lobby shops a little ways down K Street from the Petting Zoo. It requires a PhD and seems in many ways well suited to my peculiar blend of intellect and idiosyncrasy.

I'm on the fence about whether to apply for it. I have not been actively looking for a job (although I've been scoping, which is how I stumbled on this), and I have something of a commitment to the PZ for another year. However, precendent exists for that commitment to be funglible.

The work at the PZ remains intellectually interesting, but management issues have been driving me a little batshit crazy lately, as yesterday's post indicated.

So, whaddya think? I could write a book:  From Literature to Likker Lobby in Less Than Three Years 

Thoughts of the Day

Here are 10 random things I've been thinking about today (spolier alert -- they're kinda negative):

• People who are afraid to take risks WITH WORDS are fucking boring and need to leave the writing to those of us willing to do so.
• It's LAME-O to invite 60 fucking people to an event they will have to get on an AIRPLANE and fly 3000 miles across the country to get to, tell them you're covering their travel costs, and then tell them they should get the RED EYE back across the frakkin' country so that you can cheap out on their last night in the hotel. You just DON'T do that and expect those people to be your friend.
• If you're not a manager, don't try to act like one and expect people to respect you. They won't.
• If you are a manager, try to at least pretend to respect people, especially when they don't report directly to you but you need them to get shit done. If you treat them like shit, they might decide not to get teh shit done. Or they might just decide to LEAVE altogether, when you least expect it.
• If you're a manager, know the talents of the people on your team and deploy them in ways that benefit both the individuals and the group as a whole. When you have a team of 12 people and 6 are both talented and extremely underutilized, you're wasting your resources and everybody's time.
• I can't stand self-righteous ideologues. I don't care which side of the political divide you're on -- I HATE you!
• You're NOT going to save the world. Sorry, but that's for, like, comic book heroes and stuff.  
• My next career move might be out of the nonprofit sector.
• Let me repeat: You're. NOT. Going. To. Save. Teh. World. And that is not MY fault!
• In an organization of 130 or so people, losing TWO DOZEN employees in a single year is NOT a good sign. Why are they all leaving? Hmmmmmmm ....

Can you tell what a fine day I've had?

Memorable or Unmemorable?

What makes a person memorable or unmemorable? Two recent encounters got me thinking about this:

In the first encounter, I was in a store shopping for clothing. The sales associate at the register, who appeared to be around my age, was chatty. As she was finishing the sale, she remarked: "You look familiar. Did you ever work at Such-and-Such Store in Georgetown?"

Me: "Why, yes, I did. But that was like 15 years ago! And I wasn't there for very long. Why do you ask?"

Sales Associate: "I was working at Blah-de-Blah Store, next door to Such-and Such. I remember you. You were always so bright and friendly with the customers. And you have an unforgettable face."

Me, somewhat dumbfounded: "Thank you, I think. I thought I was just doing my job!"

I wasn't quite sure how to take that last part, but it seemed like a compliment. But ... really ... I'm not sure what to make of it. One doesn't remember the proverbial "pretty face" for 15 years, and I don't have that kind of face, anyway. In the three-drinks-into-happy-hour game of "What celebrity do you most look like?" I have been told at different times by different people that I bear some resemblance to Tilda Swinton, Cate Blanchett, and Anne Heche (Tilda is probably most similar, IMHO), but I do NOT have their movie star polish. And without that, what's memorable?

We chatted a little more. She said she wanted to get out of retail. I said, yeah, I was glad I had left years ago. And then she tried to get me to sign up for their customer mailing list, which I politely declined.

In the second encounter, the girlfriend of the drummer of the more or less defunct band I more or less no longer play with ran into me outside of the context in which I have typically interacted with her. Typically, I have interacted with her in social settings -- band happy hour hangout, band rehearsal, drinks at someone's house -- but she never talks much. She's always fallen into the role more of Drummer Boy's arm candy than anything else. But she also bears some resemblance to those same actresses (though more Anne than Tilda, IMO). So, I ran into her in a work-a-day office setting, and she walks over to me says, "Hi, recent Ph.D.! Nice to see you! Blah blah blah."

Me: "Hello ... um .... .... ...... um ... I'm sorry, help me out here! Where do I know you from?" For the life of me, I could not place her face or remember her name.

Her: "Really, you don't recognize me? I'm Drummer Boy's girlfriend!"

Me, totally embarrassed: "Doh! I'm so sorry! This is so embarrassing. I'm really bad with names and faces!!"

For the record, she had changed her hair color since the last time I'd seen her, which was probably two months ago at least, but still ... I should have recognized her and did genuinely feel bad.

What makes someone memorable or unmemorable for you?

Full Circle Redux

Not too long ago, I blogged about how things had come full circle in the professional sphere of my life, just as New Think Tank reaches its first birthday.

Seems it is the season for that sort of thing. Two old friends I ran into recently, whom I hadn't seen in ... well, we won't say exactly how long ... made me think of how things have come full circle in other ways as well.

Both of these people I knew as an undergrad but lost touch with soon after graduating. The first had been a peer (same year, same major) and roommate. Towards the end of the year that we shared an apartment, she started dating someone I thought was a total asshat. I couldn't stand this guy! He was spending more and more time at our apartment, and it drove me nuts. I couldn't even tell you exactly what it was that I didn't like. Possibly it was intuitive distrust? Possibly it had something to do with them fucking loudly and frequently on the living room couch when I was trying to study for finals?

Like I said, I don't know exactly what it was I didn't like, but when the lease ended, I moved out. A year later, my friend dropped out and ran off with Mr. Asshat, and I lost touch with her.

I won't get into the details of how we reconnected, but it turned out Mr. Asshat was an emotionally absuive ASSHAT who treated my friend like shit for years -- yet leaving her wanting more -- before they finally broke up when he left. Sounds familiar, in a weird sort of way ....

Approaching 30, she found herself broke and alone with no marketable skills and no college degree, so she took a job as a lowest-rung-on-the-ladder payroll assistant and discovered she liked working with numbers and was good at it. Over the next few years, she progressed slowly but steadily through bookkeeping and accounting positions with ever increasing responsibility and is now, today, the comptroller at a decent sized company. They fly her to London for meetings and what not.

Funny how things turn out. She was impressed with my Ph.D. but at the same time could relate to some of my post-ac employment frustrations -- from the opposite end. She said that not finishing her bachelor's was a sore point that has limited her options. Despite her current status, if she ever wanted to change jobs to something of similar status at another copmany, no one would give her a second look without the degree.

She said if she had it to do over again, she'd have majored in economics and gotten into policy work -- something more similar to what I'm doing now than what she does. But I wouldn't mind it if, at my next gig, they wanted to fly me to London now and again.

Funny how things turn out.

*     *     *     *     *

The other person I ran into had been a grad student when I was an undergrad. He had two master's degrees and was working on a PhD. In retrospect, I suppose, one should always be slightly suspicious of any graduate sstudent in their late 20s who spends over much time hanging around the undergrads. Where is that going to lead but backwards?

During my last year in college, I lived in a building called the Copycat. Despite the seeming coolness of this place having its own Wikipedia page, it was (and as far as I can tell still is) a shithole. Myself and two roommates shared a loft that rented for a grand total of $300 a month, which seems pretty great until you consider: the roaches (gah, they were everywhere!), the rodents (you could hear them at night even with the windows closed in the dumpsters three floors below), the sweatshop uniform factory upstairs (it released a steam vent every day at 3pm -- and that shit's fucken LOUD, especially if you're just waking up from the previous night's festivities), and the lack of hot water and ... oh, yes, the lack of a functional kitchen!

But when you're 22, I suppose, those are reasonable tradeoffs for some of the building's perks. We had us some KILLER parties!!

People would be spinning records, painting, dancing ... whatnot. In the morning, the view of Baltimore through those gigantic industrial windows -- the rundown rowhouses, the train yard, the city jail -- had a peculiarly postapocalyptic feel, as if the sunrise itself, shedding light on it all, was a perverse surprise.

Somehow (and I do not to this day know how) I made the dean's list the year I lived there, but my friend, Grad Student, apparently was headed in the opposite direction. 

Grad Student had attended one or two of those parties, but we (meaning my undergrad friends and myself) had initiated him into the madness and mayhem of those days, not the other way around, as you might expect between younger and older friends.

Long story short, sometime in the course of the intervening years, Grad Student, who is now well past 40, dropped out of his PhD program, joined a band, and has been, as they say, "living the life" for a while now. The band is actually pretty good, and it was at a show they were playing last weekend where Peaches and I ran into (Former) Grad Student afterwards.

(Former) Grad Student says: "Hey, I was just thinking about you guys! I tried to find you online but couldn't remember your last names. You remember the Copycat? I'm moving in there this month!"

Kerfuffle

I do love me a good blogosophere kerfuffle, like this one brewing over at The Chronicle. Er, I used to. I wouldn't even have known about this, given how infrequently I read that esteemed publication these days, if JC hadn't mentioned it and linked in her comments to an old post of mine.

A couple years ago, I would have been slinging mud with the best of them. These days, the pettiness and incivility just strikes me as sad. I think the author of that piece takes a reasonable stand, but readers don't have to agree with her in order to respect it, especially since it's a personal piece. That's what's the real turn-off for me -- the personal attacks against someone who courageously speaks up against what she has experienced as an illness-inducing, hopeless, and exploitative situation.

What gives? You expect it from opposite sides of the political divide, say, in the comments to a HuffPo piece on the climate wars. Even there, comments are more along the line of "You're a stupid commie shithead!" "No, YOU'RE a stupid right-wing douchewad shithead!" This is sad in its own way, but it isn't personal.

When it comes from inside academe to another academic, a postacademic, an altacademic -- or whatever -- it is both personal and unprofessional. It is a reflection of the toxic environment that, for a lot of us, is one of a host of factors that caused us to choose to leave. Frankly, I haven't encountered it in the workplace culture on the outside. You have your friends, your enemies, and your frenemies, but people basically treat each other with a degree of professional respect. It's refreshing.

Full Circle

Sorry about the relative silence lately -- and for totally going poof! for a couple days. Not that you missed anything, given how little I've been posting. I've been struggling with blogger identity issues (see my response to Physioprof in the previous post), and then, unthinkingly, I left a comment somewhere that linked one identity to the other in a place where they REALLY could not be linked. Fortunately, I don't think anyone saw, so I'm back. But ... this is becoming a problem. I like writing this blog and don't want to abandon it, but ......... I have this thing about treading too close to the edge.

My worlds have a way of colliding but in such odd and entertaining ways I can't resist sharing.

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A little over a year ago, An Incident happened at Think Tank. I didn't say a whole lot about it on the blog, surprisingly little as I look back on it now. You could read back around some of the spring 2012 posts, like this one, if you forgot or you're curious. The thing is, it started a chain reaction that led to Another Incident and, ultimately, to the formation of New Think Tank and my landing on my feet here at the Petting Zoo, when all was said and done.

Now things have come full circle. The Villain of the original Incident -- the Villain or the Hero, depending on whose side you're on -- is going to be a featured speaker at a big PZ showcase later in the summer.

I wonder if I should tell the Villain/Hero of the role ze indirectly played in my fate. But ze is one of those people who would probably throw their drink in my face if they knew my history at Think Tank.

If you recognize him, the more power to you. It's only the tip of the iceberg.

If I do disappear for good and close up shop here, I will still be reachable at the recentphd [at] gmail address. Write me there and I'll let you know where I've reinvented.

R2-D2 says "hi"

I'm at a conference this weekend. Ran into Artoo in the exhibit hall ...

Snowing ... speakers are starting now ... Hope you all are enjoying your weekend, wherever you are! More later ...

You know you've left academe for good when ...

... your former students start showing up in your LinkedIn network.

And now they're all grown up and doing "real world" jobs. Some of them are doing jobs you would have NEVER expected based on your experience with them in your class as college freshmen -- like the totally disorganized kid who was always stoned and yet still always needing to be the center of attention now working as a government bureaucrat.

Ah, well, everybody has to grow up sooner or later.

Hello, World!

Sorry it's been so long since I last posted. Didja miss me?

Really, it's just that things have been busy. Getting a report at the PZ through internal review and the comms (that's "communications") and pubs ( "publications" -- and, yes, they're ALL separate yet ill-defined processes) is a pain in the motherfucking A$$. All the other analysts hate it, too. Really, some streamlining here would be helpful.

You'll have to wait for another post for me to fully explain why. But, for starters, I'm actually even OK with the part the other analysts hate most, which is the nitpicky copyediting. We have two very good copyeditors who pick up on even the most miniscule flaws, like the extra space you left in between the end of a word and a comma because fifteen bazillion people made changes to the sentence since the last time you saw it . Some of the other analysts are baffled, in a bad way , by this level of attention to gramatical detail (didja catch those two extra spaces?). Why would anyone CARE about a motherfucking COMMA when the world is burdened with so many REAL problems? But I genuinely appreciate it. If more people cared about commas, maybe fewer would care about -- oh, I dunno -- holding onto their assault weapons?

So, awesome! Two full-time, paid staff members who have very little else to do besides copyedit. Why am I stuck copyediting my own shit? Iz itte teh PhD in teh Englishit, because that ain't a requirement for being a good copyeditor ...

It isn't really that I would mind so much if I had the time, but I have other research/writing tasks piling up. I have the same amount of that type of work the other analysts do and the same expectations for getting it done. But copyediting is time-consuming to do well. And the PZ has its own byzantine style guidelines I haven't fully internalized yet. And I really just don't want my shit up on the web (well, excepting for this blog) unless it has been properly copyedited.

You know, it makes me think about how poorly valued the humanities are, even when that sort of education is applied in a practical setting. The PZ copyeditors have undergrad degrees in communications and English and a lot of experience doing what they do, and, like I said, they're really good at it. Copyediting is tedious, certainly not something I'd want to do full-time. Yet, it's necessary. I think my colleagues here at the PZ would acknowledge that, but I also think they don't really value or appreciate what goes into it. Frankly, they get irritated with the ample turnaround time the copyeditors, quite reasonably, request. Why the hell should it take so much time to correct a couple commas?

And, yet , that is exactly why I am now stuck copyediting my own shit -- because the copyeditors rightly grumbled about too short a turnaround time. Why didn't we anticipate and give them more time? Why , because of the chaos of the internal peer-review process, of course! But you'll have to wait for another post to hear about that. Heh, I used to think dealing with academic journals was a pain ...

Self-flagellation

How do I get my Petting Zoo colleagues to stop referring to my former employer, Think Tank, as a "corporate funded front group"? There are lots of things you could say about Think Tank (that is, Old Think Tank, as opposed to what became known as New Think Tank just before I came to the PZ). I've said more than a few on this blog. But, goddammit, their Fuck the Polar Bears campaign is not funded by corporations. It is funded by a (very small group of) very rich and very delusional lunatic individual(s). And, no, it's not the Koch brothers, as much as you would like to believe it and my former colleagues at Think Tank wish it were true.

There is now a war of words between Think Tank and the Petting Zoo. It's beyond absurd, and, sad to say, the Petting Zoo started it -- not as an attack but with some wording used in a fundraising attempt that, presumably, they didn't expect Think Tank ever to discover.

I am embarrassed for them. Also, strategically, from the point of view of Expanding Habitats, the new program I'm working in, we're supposed to be getting past this rhetoric of blame.

Yeah. Good luck with THAT when so many people here can't get past their belief that eveybody who works at Think Tank is "evil" and "a dick."

I'm sorry, but just because somebody has an opinion you think is "evil," even if they are blatantly wrong in that opinion, it doesn't make them evil as a person. We call it an ad hominem attack in rhetoric because you're attacking the person and not the argument. Same thing with "dick." When somebody says something dick-ish, it doesn't make them a "dick" as a person. The Petting Zoo likes to hold itself up as representing the moral (as well as factual) high ground, but you know what? Nobody at Old Think Tank ever called the people who disagreed with them -- or was ideologically distant -- "evil" or "a dick."

Can't we have smart AND civil discourse?

What I really want to do is send an email to the president of Old Think Tank and the president of the Petting Zoo introducing them to each other. I'd tell them I like(d) working for both of them and that I think this quarrelling is silly. They should recognize that they're never going to agree on some things and stop the proven-to-backfire attempts at attacking each other's funders. Then I'd invite them out for a drink.

Of course, I will never actually write this email because I'm sure my words would be used against me in one way or another ...

*headdesk*

A long and rambling post on how I came to leave academe

So, here we are in 2013 ... Back in January 2011, I started this blog concurrently with the Think Tank secretary job as a way of chronicling The Road Finally Taken out and away from the Ivory Tower --  or the Dark Tower, as I have come to think of it. But what's somewhat missing from the many entries that followed, as a recent reader email or two has brought up, is the story of how I came to leave -- what the process was and how I reached the point of taking the rather drastic action of walking away.

The reason that story never emerged is perhaps because leaving for me, at first, meant walking away from adjuncting rather than from academe. While many post-acs make a final decision to leave and then just do it, come what may, I had only made a final decision to quit adjuncting, leaving the door open for the possibilities of another attempt at the tenure-track job market in the fall of 2011 and pursuing my research interests as an independent scholar.

Many of my 2011 posts explore these possibilities, as well as vent anger and frustration, only fully developing over time -- rather than in a single moment or post -- the "I've totally had enough of this bullshit and am never going back" position I think I finally reached at some point early in 2012. That year, 2012, saw a great many new post-ac blogs, which is fantastic, because, as JC has emphasized many times, it's important to know you're not alone in this business of leaving, given all the angst -- identity crisis aggravated by peer pressure, feelings of failure and self-doubt and betrayal, employment and career uncertainty, and financial hardship. If you found this blog relatively recently and are still in the throes of working through some of this, I invite you to go back and read some of those 2011 posts. We all make the leap in different ways, but my experiences may be especially worth reading about for those of you who actually like academic work -- the research and the teaching -- and are leaving (or contemplating leaving) because you feel like you don't have an alternative rather than because you hate the work.

As I look back, I realize that I have moved on from those first anguished throes -- both the venting and the exploration of academe's remaining possibilities. Frankly, the possibilities outside academe seem a lot more interesting to me now, as I become more familiar with them. If you got a Ph.D. because you wanted intellectual challenges and you wanted to spend your professional life working around smart people, rest assured that both of these things exist outside the Ivory Tower. The hard part is getting your head out of that special tiny corner of the library you've come to know so well you have the titles on each shelf memorized. That was what your dissertation did for you. Not a bad exercise but limited and limiting in scope. If you want to make the post-ac world work for you in an equally intellectually stimulating way, cultivate a more detached curiosity. It's refreshing and will free you from some of the fears about what you're leaving behind. You will retain a connective thread between the thinking person you were and the thinking person you are -- and you'll have more to talk about with other people.

Aarrrrggghhhh, I digress and ramble .... Mostly. what I wanted to share in this post, was a pre-blog chronology (events leading up to my departure and starting of the blog) that might give newer post-acs a sense of how much time it takes to get all this sorted out. I still have some sorting to do, but here's a little more on how I got to where I am now, two years out and counting:

March 2010
I defended my dissertation at the end of the month and felt great for about a day. As much as I had stressed about the defense, it was actually kind of fun -- essentially, a seminar with 5 really smart people I respected on a subject I had chosen. The best part was getting them so engaged with the subject that they forgot they were supposed to be grilling me and started arguing with each other! My defense was in the morning, and Peaches took the day off so we could celebrate properly. It was a glorious day, one of the first and best warm and sunny spring ones. When I got home, we drank good scotch, got righteously stoned, and walked all the way to the National Mall (about 3 miles from our house) to see the cherry blossoms, which were at their peak.

April 2010
As the semester drew to a close, I started to freak out about what came next. I had put in requests for both summer and fall teaching but couldn't get a straight answer from Scheduler of Adjuncts about either. Maybe they'd have something, maybe they wouldn't. Maybe it would be two courses, maybe four. As much as I wanted those teaching gigs, however, my teaching that spring had already started to suffer from all the anxiety I was feeling about what was next now that I would be officially "finished."

Teaching-wise, spring 2010 was probably one of my worst semesters. Besides two sections of comp, I was teaching a required course for majors that was supposed to be both an introduction to all the awesome "critical methods" they had at their disposal and a sort of rallying camp for the major itself. The course was supposed to get them prepped and psyched for the "real" literature courses they'd get to take with tenure-track faculty. I'd had fun teaching this class in the past, but this semester, it just made me ill. I realized that no matter how well I taught it nor how good my own scholarship was, I'd hardly ever get to teach the "real" courses. And, no matter how badly I taught it, I'd get assigned to it again and again if I stuck around because not a lot of other adjuncts were willing or able to handle the theory component and the tt faculty hated the course almost as much as they hated teaching comp. I realized then exactly what my value to the department was.

That semester, when I should have been ecstatically coasting through to the end following my defense, I was seething with a quietly building rage. I went to bed angry and woke up angry. Sometimes, I'd wake up in middle of the night with a bitter taste in my mouth that wasn't from forgetting to brush my teeth.

May 2010
Scheduler of Adjuncts offered me a summer class a week before commencement and two weeks before the summer term began. I accepted it because I had no other options. It was a course I had not taught before, and about fifty percent of the content was material outside my primary area of expertise -- stuff I hadn't read or thought about in years. It was a shit-ton of prep to try to cram into two weeks, especially with family coming to town for commencement. At commencement, my well-meaning family oozed pride at this spectacle of costumes and speeches, but my advisor, with whom I had worked for the past 7 years, couldn't be bothered to interrupt summer vacation plans to attend and I was hooded by someone else I hardly knew. Silly, I know, and I don't hold it against my advisor (we did share a low tolerance for bullshit), but the lack of participation by faculty, not just my advisor, was one more reminder for me of how little finally finishing the long process and getting the mark of distinction actually meant in the community where it was supposed to mean the most.

June 2010
I was so busy with my summer course that I hardly had time to think about what I would do come fall semester, though I did pester Scheduler of Adjuncts at least weekly. The summer class went OK, not my best performance but a little better than the spring semester, partly because it was a very small class of reasonably good students, meaning I could put more time into prep rather than grading and count on them to pull their weight in discussions. On the first day, one student asked where Dr. Fancy Pants was, the tenured professor who was supposed to teach the class but backed out at the last minute. I said bluntly that Dr. Fancy Pants had better things to do and didn't need the money. The students thought this was funny, but I was seriously considering an experiment to try to figure out what it would take for an adjunct to get fired without committing an act of violence or sexual harassment. I gave those poor students an earful about where their tuition was and was not going -- and I did not neglect to mention that the total tuition being paid by the two out-of-state students for this one class was more than I was getting to teach it. That wasn't so funny, but, really, students have a right to know where their money is going. Sure was a beautiful new building where the class met, equipped with all the latest technology we didn't need to have good, old-fashioned, seminar-style discussions ...

July 2010
The class ended the second week in July. Still no word from Scheduler of Adjuncts. More freaking out. I snazzed up my nonacademic resume and started haphazardly applying for jobs. The last week of the month, I taught two intensive SAT prep workshops through the local community college for a little extra change.

August 2010
Finally, Scheduler of Adjuncts contacted me with an offer for fall teaching. Three evening sections of freshman comp. Awesome! At least I wouldn't have much prep because I'd taught this so many times before, but the grading would be brutal. Whatever. Apparently, the Ph.D. entitled me to an extra $300 per class ... er, well, it would have if Grad U hadn't been under a salary freeze. Scheduler of Adjuncts rescinded the contract I had already signed and gave me another one, minus the extra money. Apparently, if you're an adjunct, contracts are about as valuable as doctorates. What was I supposed to do? Say no??

September 2010
Fall classes started. I was still waking up angry in middle of the night. None of my summer attempts to find nonacademic work turned up anything. No interviews. Not even a nibble. I figured I needed a new strategy, but I wasn't sure what it would be yet. I concentrated on not being an asshole to my students.

October 2010
More of the same. I started bothering Scheduler of Adjuncts about spring 2011 classes. Ze said they could probably use me for at least one section of the methods course again but wasn't sure what else. WTF? My student evaluations for the spring 2010 methods course were rightfully and predictably terrible -- like, not just bad but the fresh smell of your cat just having pooped on your pillow TERRIBLE -- and yet here I was being invited to teach it again! Clearly, if you're an adjunct, good teaching counts about as much as contracts and doctorates.

November 2010\
No further word on spring. I was getting a little panicky by Thanksgiving but had decided on a new strategy for nonacademic job applications. I would market myself as a career changer instead of a recently graduated pathetic, perennial "student." I revamped the resume yet again, deemphasizing the Ph.D. and accentuating the teaching as work experience, highlighting elements that translated best into other kinds of work and using language I found in job descriptions. Cover letters mentioned career change in the first paragraph and deemphasized the Ph.D. and research interests. Instead, I talked about graduate school as professional development towards earning a credential I needed for the career in postsecondary education I had been pursuing. In that context, you have a lot more credibility to talk about changing careers than if you market yourself as a 30-year-old "student" with incidental teaching experience.

December 2010
By the time the semester was wrapping up, I had started to get a few responses and had a few interviews. Apparently, the new marketing strategy was working. The week between Christmas and New Year's, I had an in-person interview for a writer/editor position with a federal contractor. It went reasonably well, and the next day they emailed asking what days in January I was available to meet with the client, a government agency, and what my salary requirements were. I thought, "Sweet, I'm going to be able to be able to bail out on spring adjuncting before I even get formally offered any classes!"

January 1-10, 2011
And then, despite my optimistic hopes, January came and I heard nothing back from that company. I found out later that the contract had fallen through and needed to be renegotiated. They asked if I would be willing to be included as part of the renegotiation package, which I guess is a good sign, but it never went any further. Some other company got the contract. Scheduler of Adjuncts said I could have 2  courses (I had asked for 3 or more), the methods course and another totally new prep that was not just partly but COMPLETELY outside my area of expertise -- meaning I would have a lot of extra work and not nearly enough money. I sent out more nonacademic applications, including one for a "think tank secretary" thing I saw on Craigslist.

January 11-31, 2011
I had an interview for the think tank secretary job and got an offer the same day. Told Scheduler of Adjuncts to fuck off and find someone else a week before classes began. Started the blog and the new job ...

And the rest, as they say, is history. Go back and read through those 2011 blog posts (scroll down through these links for multiple posts) here, here, here, here , here , here, and here.

2012 was an equally interesting year, if for different reasons. In a lot of ways, it has become the second stage of my post-academic life, involving a move from the "next" job to the next "next" job, with a lot of insanity, synchronicity, and serendipity in between.

Who knows what 2013 will bring?