(no subject)
(Crossposted from the Xanga, because some of the old MGC people will definitely be interested in reading this.)
I feel like the following needs to be said, in words of one syllable, so that everybody who cares about such things understands where I'm coming from. Saying such things as these is risky in these forums. But if I don't say this, it's going to be stewing around somewhere in my innards until I explode, so let's get all this on the table.
This whole teaching business is my vocation, not my job. It is what I do, it is who I am, it is what sends me careening into utter misery when I'm not doing it. I have seen people who have lost their vocations before, and what they descend into. I have no desire to take that route.
It is in that context that I now announce my Real Professional Development Goal for the academic year 2005/2006. I submitted a nifty sheet with other goals on it. If I get any of them done, it's gravy. But my real goals sheet has just one bullet point:
Six years ago, I was completing my doctoral dissertation with the promise of the dream postdoc of all dream postdocs coming true. The very first paper I seriously read as a graduate student was written by this guy. He had insights about molecular modeling that I could only dream of having. He had NIH grant money to burn, and all the things I hadn't learned as a graduate student I could now learn in this big lab with the big computers doing the big things. If this went the right way, I could write my own ticket.
In May of 2000, I'd blown the thing up, bitter, angry and depressed, because the project I was going into the lab to take didn't exist when I got there, I felt underappreciated for the work I put in on several secondary projects, and I didn't like the idea of the primary investigator taking a three-month sabbatical in Paris while I still was trying to find my place. So I quit working. Just quit. And when the PI wouldn't renew me, I made sure he wrote into the letter that I wouldn't accept a renewal anyway.
Three years ago, I started seeing a path towards my future at Middle Georgia College. I had a role in a new hire, there were a good chunk of young faculty in place, I had a place on Curriculum Committee, and the new president of the college was attending my church. With a couple of good decisions made, I could establish myself as a member of that faculty for the long haul.
In May of 2003, I may have been sitting in a college assembly staring at a plaque that said "Outstanding Faculty Member" from the MGC Student Government, but it felt especially hollow. I felt like my ideas - for that GAMES program, for the physics curriculum, for pretty much everything of significance - were being thrown back in my face, with a passive-aggressive smile and "Oh, that was such a good idea - nobody liked that? That's a shame." I thought I had phenomenal students, but anytime I tried to tell anybody else that I got strange looks and disbelief - everybody believed Middle Georgia was the bottom of the pile, with no way to go up. I felt isolated from my fellow faculty, because I was "the cool prof" who all the students liked.
And when professors who weren't tenured suddenly started getting letters telling them their contracts wouldn't be renewed, some for legitimate reasons, some with vague handwaving about "extreme academic rigor", I absolutely panicked. And fled.
I am scared about this year. I am scared about the way I handle things this year. And there isn't going to be any kind of reassurance I can take from anybody about anything that is going to make me feel any better. I am afraid that, every step of the way, I am going to be fighting the temptation to start to blow things up when the first thing goes wrong.
And I can't do that. Not any more.
Just read the above, consider the above deeply, and think about how much my family has moved around. We established ourselves in Columbus (OHIO!), but barring a miracle that wasn't going to last, not after I finished the PhD at Ohio State. But Birmingham could have. Cochran definitely could have. And I've picked them up and moved them around, largely because I got all high and superior about how horrible my situation was and how I couldn't stay sane in it.
My youngest daughter is six and has never lived in one place for longer than three years, and still cries every now and again for her friends and her preschool teacher in Cochran. Think about that.
So, if you're a student reading this, and you want to know my take on some of the latest rumors running around about this person and that having their row, and I don't have any opinions that I'm willing to share, understand why I think it's important to keep my mouth shut.
So, if you're another professor and you're wondering why I'm never satisfied with anything I do unless it's absolutely perfect, understand that I've seen too many almost-perfect efforts fall short in my earlier career, and I still haven't forgiven myself for that. I should, I know. But I haven't.
And to any of you who see this grave injustice in the world and are wondering why I can't get myself all worked up over it, and why I'm just too willing to be positive or be a good soldier, rather than to yell and scream and get attention:
I've tried that.
It didn't work.
And the scars are still healing.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let me say one other thing, and say it equally clearly. I have been a lot of different places, and observed a lot of undergraduates going through this whole education thing. Our graduates might not leave with the best standardized test scores, or with a degree with the greatest reputation on the planet. But I'd put the students who leave with a science degree from Shorter College up against any in the country. They have been put through the fire, and they come out prepared for pretty much anything they want to do.
I refuse to say that what we do is perfect, or that what we do can't be improved. I have my own ideas, and they will get thrown out there when it is appropriate and where it is appropriate. But what we do, we do it awfully well, and we do it with a concern for the individual student that you simply won't see too many other places, especially in the state of Georgia.
It's not that I want to have a job next year, or even that I want to have a job in Rome, GA next year. I want to be at Shorter College. I believe in what happens on this hill far too much to leave.
I feel like the following needs to be said, in words of one syllable, so that everybody who cares about such things understands where I'm coming from. Saying such things as these is risky in these forums. But if I don't say this, it's going to be stewing around somewhere in my innards until I explode, so let's get all this on the table.
This whole teaching business is my vocation, not my job. It is what I do, it is who I am, it is what sends me careening into utter misery when I'm not doing it. I have seen people who have lost their vocations before, and what they descend into. I have no desire to take that route.
It is in that context that I now announce my Real Professional Development Goal for the academic year 2005/2006. I submitted a nifty sheet with other goals on it. If I get any of them done, it's gravy. But my real goals sheet has just one bullet point:
- Be employed at Shorter College for the 2006/2007 academic year.
Six years ago, I was completing my doctoral dissertation with the promise of the dream postdoc of all dream postdocs coming true. The very first paper I seriously read as a graduate student was written by this guy. He had insights about molecular modeling that I could only dream of having. He had NIH grant money to burn, and all the things I hadn't learned as a graduate student I could now learn in this big lab with the big computers doing the big things. If this went the right way, I could write my own ticket.
In May of 2000, I'd blown the thing up, bitter, angry and depressed, because the project I was going into the lab to take didn't exist when I got there, I felt underappreciated for the work I put in on several secondary projects, and I didn't like the idea of the primary investigator taking a three-month sabbatical in Paris while I still was trying to find my place. So I quit working. Just quit. And when the PI wouldn't renew me, I made sure he wrote into the letter that I wouldn't accept a renewal anyway.
Three years ago, I started seeing a path towards my future at Middle Georgia College. I had a role in a new hire, there were a good chunk of young faculty in place, I had a place on Curriculum Committee, and the new president of the college was attending my church. With a couple of good decisions made, I could establish myself as a member of that faculty for the long haul.
In May of 2003, I may have been sitting in a college assembly staring at a plaque that said "Outstanding Faculty Member" from the MGC Student Government, but it felt especially hollow. I felt like my ideas - for that GAMES program, for the physics curriculum, for pretty much everything of significance - were being thrown back in my face, with a passive-aggressive smile and "Oh, that was such a good idea - nobody liked that? That's a shame." I thought I had phenomenal students, but anytime I tried to tell anybody else that I got strange looks and disbelief - everybody believed Middle Georgia was the bottom of the pile, with no way to go up. I felt isolated from my fellow faculty, because I was "the cool prof" who all the students liked.
And when professors who weren't tenured suddenly started getting letters telling them their contracts wouldn't be renewed, some for legitimate reasons, some with vague handwaving about "extreme academic rigor", I absolutely panicked. And fled.
I am scared about this year. I am scared about the way I handle things this year. And there isn't going to be any kind of reassurance I can take from anybody about anything that is going to make me feel any better. I am afraid that, every step of the way, I am going to be fighting the temptation to start to blow things up when the first thing goes wrong.
And I can't do that. Not any more.
Just read the above, consider the above deeply, and think about how much my family has moved around. We established ourselves in Columbus (OHIO!), but barring a miracle that wasn't going to last, not after I finished the PhD at Ohio State. But Birmingham could have. Cochran definitely could have. And I've picked them up and moved them around, largely because I got all high and superior about how horrible my situation was and how I couldn't stay sane in it.
My youngest daughter is six and has never lived in one place for longer than three years, and still cries every now and again for her friends and her preschool teacher in Cochran. Think about that.
So, if you're a student reading this, and you want to know my take on some of the latest rumors running around about this person and that having their row, and I don't have any opinions that I'm willing to share, understand why I think it's important to keep my mouth shut.
So, if you're another professor and you're wondering why I'm never satisfied with anything I do unless it's absolutely perfect, understand that I've seen too many almost-perfect efforts fall short in my earlier career, and I still haven't forgiven myself for that. I should, I know. But I haven't.
And to any of you who see this grave injustice in the world and are wondering why I can't get myself all worked up over it, and why I'm just too willing to be positive or be a good soldier, rather than to yell and scream and get attention:
I've tried that.
It didn't work.
And the scars are still healing.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let me say one other thing, and say it equally clearly. I have been a lot of different places, and observed a lot of undergraduates going through this whole education thing. Our graduates might not leave with the best standardized test scores, or with a degree with the greatest reputation on the planet. But I'd put the students who leave with a science degree from Shorter College up against any in the country. They have been put through the fire, and they come out prepared for pretty much anything they want to do.
I refuse to say that what we do is perfect, or that what we do can't be improved. I have my own ideas, and they will get thrown out there when it is appropriate and where it is appropriate. But what we do, we do it awfully well, and we do it with a concern for the individual student that you simply won't see too many other places, especially in the state of Georgia.
It's not that I want to have a job next year, or even that I want to have a job in Rome, GA next year. I want to be at Shorter College. I believe in what happens on this hill far too much to leave.