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First PersonA Better Place
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I have just started what I hope will be my dream job, as an associate professor and program director at a liberal-arts university. Obviously it's not my first job, and it's not my second, either. Maybe the third time really will be the charm. Little is written about the challenges of a mid-career job search, and since I chronicled one of my earlier searches on this site, I thought I would bring readers up to date. Even before I received my Ph.D. in American history, I landed my first tenure-track job at a state college in New York. I liked the department, but the campus was in a remote location. So after four years, I secured my second tenure-track job, this time at a federal service academy in the city. Over the years, I've learned to accept my good fortune at being employed and keep my complaints to a minimum. My first search was guided by the simple fact that I needed a job -- any job. My second search was limited by geography; I needed to be back in New York City. Once at the service academy, I became an active and engaged campus citizen. Despite a heavy teaching load, I was able to publish two books in five years and earn tenure. Never underestimate ambition. Sometime late last year, a senior scholar in my field asked where I was planning to apply for my next job. I told her I assumed I would remain where I was. I had learned to accommodate myself to my situation so much that I forgot that I was mobile. She convinced me that I had options and deserved to be someplace better. As a published academic, with more than 10 years of teaching experience, I realized she was right. Leaving the service academy was a difficult choice, but one I knew I had to make. While I was well paid, respected, and marked as a rising star on the campus, I longed to work someplace where I could offer interesting courses, develop new ones, have time to improve my teaching, and, of course, write my next book. To teach at a service academy is to be marginalized in the academic world. I tended to overcompensate by attending too many seminars, going to too many conferences, presenting lots of papers, and writing too many book reviews. I was afraid to say no. I convinced myself that I needed to remain visible because the institution where I taught was not. My mid-career search, I knew, would be different. First, I already had a good job with tenure, so I wasn't desperate. Second, I was looking for a position that was clearly a step up from my current one. Finally, it needed to be in a location where my wife and child would also be comfortable. In the end, while I found a number of interesting positions, I applied for only three. One was the directorship of a new program at a liberal-arts university in the Northeast that had a growing reputation and was located within 20 or so miles from my current home. The ad called for someone with my research interests and administrative experiences. It seemed almost too perfect, so when the university called to set up an interview, I was both delighted and worried that the bubble would burst once I got there. But it didn't. Everything about the interview process was professional. I came to the campus the night before my interview and had dinner with the heads of the search committee. They were folks who seemed to be deeply committed intellectuals, the type of colleagues I could see myself working with. The next day was filled with meetings. I left liking what I saw. A week later, I got the call, and after some minor and friendly negotiations with the dean, a formal appointment letter arrived at my door. The university offered an attractive package in every way except for one: The offer did not come with tenure, per university policy. Instead, I would go up for tenure in my first year on the campus. The decision to give up tenure is not to be taken lightly. My wife and I discussed it and she thought I needed to take the risk. Playing it safe was dangerous, too, she said. She didn't want me to say, down the road, "I should have taken that offer." I also discussed the matter with several friends and senior colleagues, people I trust. They asked me two questions: Did I think I could get tenure at the new place? And would I be happier there? I answered yes to both questions and signed the letter. I am now an associate professor and program director at my new academic home. I hope to spend the remainder of my career here. On my way to my car after my interview, I asked a newly hired assistant professor (who received his Ph.D. from my graduate school) what he liked about the university. "Honestly," he said, "this is the best job I can ever imagine having." He laughed because it sounded so corny. But, after two months on the campus, I believe him. And I hope I'll still believe him after I go through the tenure process. In the meantime, I've learned several things about the mid-career job search:
In short, embrace the move. While I left behind wonderful colleagues and a good position, I know that I have gone to a better place. |
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