First Person

Southern Inhospitality

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By Doris V. Pendleton

I thought my interview for a deanship at a Southern regional university went well on my end. I was able to be myself and respond honestly to all of the commitee's questions. I even disclosed some personal information about which the committee was curious but legally forbidden to ask.

Unfortunately my openness and honesty were not enough to land me the job. Not getting the job, however, was not what bothered me about the interview. As I have reflected on the two days I spent on the campus, and the subsequent weeks I spent waiting to hear about the outcome, I have been troubled by the lack of hospitality shown to me.

As an alumna of the university, as well as someone who often plans and schedules interviews for prospective candidates at my current institution, I had high expectations for how I would be treated as a candidate.

On my own campus, a thoughtful itinerary is developed before a candidate arrives, with input from the search committee. Deliberate acts that reflect our thoughtfulness are planned in an attempt to express our sincere desire to have the candidate as a colleague. We try to capitalize on the adage that first impressions are lasting ones.

Hospitality is a priority, and every effort is made to make the candidate comfortable, whether that individual eventually becomes a colleague or not. Somehow that just seems to be the right thing to do. My alma mater, however, apparently does not share that sentiment.

Before receiving the itinerary for my interview, I had anticipated having most or all of my meals during the two-day visit with members of the search committee. But with the exception of two lunches, I dined alone. Those social functions can often shed light on a candidate's personality in an informal setting -- light that may not be visible in formal settings.

I had expected to have an opportunity to tour the campus, including the classrooms and laboratories. The only tour I got was of the dean's suite, and even my request to see that office seemed to be regarded as an imposition by the staff.

I thought I would have a meeting with a human-resources representative to discuss the benefits offered to employees of the institution. I was simply handed a packet of information at the end of the first day to read on my own. In my experience, a discussion with a human being can be critical, since benefits can be a major factor in a candidate's decision-making process about a new job.

Finally, I thought that at some point I might meet a local real-estate agent who could tell me about possible living arrangements and property in the area. I toured a few neighborhoods on my own and talked to a friend who lives in the area. But it seemed to me that the committee should have realized that finding affordable housing in neighborhoods with good schools is important to someone who has school-age children.

I left the small Southern town feeling that I had not been treated as well as my current institution treats candidates for instructor positions, or as well as I would have liked to have been treated in general as a person. My sense of its inhospitality only worsened in the weeks that followed the interview.

During my exit interview with the provost, he indicated that the university would make a decision in about three weeks. I waited. Friends called me to check on the status of the position. I repeatedly told them that I had not heard anything.

I waited some more as three weeks turned into seven with no word from anyone at the university. By that point, I had surmised that I would not be offered the job.

During the seventh week, I finally received word -- a brief e-mail message from the chairman of the search committee saying that he was going to reopen the search. He said he wanted to let me know before I saw the position advertised again in The Chronicle.

His timing was off: The ad had appeared on The Chronicle's Web site three days before the date of his e-mail message.

Since then I've thought a lot about how candidates are treated on my own campus and about the written communications I had received from other institutions where I had applied. My dean said that after an on-campus interview for a deanship, the committee chair or a representative should at least have contacted me by telephone to relate their decision.

Was the committee just rude? Did its members just not know any better? Did they treat all of the candidates they found to be unsuitable in the same way? Was it their deliberate intent to convey disdain toward me?

I wondered what I could have done to make them want to treat me that badly. As an alumna, I wondered how I would feel about future solicitations to give to the institution. Finally, I wondered what had happened to true Southern hospitality and professionalism.

As I prepare for an interview at another institution next week, I am excited about the possibilities. So far, the head of the committee and the university staff members have shown tremendous consideration for meeting my needs during my visit.

I also had to remind myself that there are individual as well as institutional differences and understandings about what it means to be hospitable, and that locale alone is not a predictor of how hospitality will or will not be shown.

And I have had to remind myself that the institution that I am about to visit is not the one I have already visited. Just as I want to be viewed on my own merit and as different from the other candidates, so I must also view this next opportunity with fresh eyes.

As a final note, in my previous column, I wrote about my mother's illness and the role it had played in my decisions about my job search. Since then, her condition has improved greatly. Her physicians have indicated that the tumors are gone and that she does not need additional chemotherapy at this time. She will visit with her doctors after she attends the graduations of two of her granddaughters in May. Her good news brought tears of joy and shouting and jumping. Two days later, I fell and broke my ankle. Life is never without its little wrinkles.