Very short version: Mountain U offered the spouse a TT job-of-his-dreams, here in the exact place we most want to live. So.
Much longer version:
Dr. S took this visiting-assistant-professor job here despite... well, despite practically everything. It was the equivalent of putting all your money on one horse. Also:
* the department interviewed four people and the other three were female
* I understand their legitimate desire to hire a female scientist BUT
* two applicants sucked and the other one they apparently hated (this on the direct word of Dr. S's chair)
* so naturally they weaseled around, told Dr. S when they'd decide and then didn't, then made an offer to the one they hated and lied to him about it.
* AND when he called everywhere else he'd applied, they told him they figured Mountain U had written him such a fantastic recommendation that they would surely hire him, so these other places didn't even call him, and now they'd made offers elsewhere. Way to get screwed coming and going, right?
To give you an idea of the time scale, he interviewed on Halloween. I have spent the last week both grieving for all our dreams, and applying for jobs across the state. Also I basically haven't slept well in months. Do they make IV Valium? I could really use some right about now.
We are both under the impression that something screwy was happening. Either the faculty are deeply divided - which is very very bad- or the administration was applying some kind of pressure and/or leverage that the department either couldn't or wouldn't counter, which is maybe less bad.
However, the only remaining questions are, can he get anyone to tell him what really is going on, and can he convince them to offer him more money? (This is in accordance with my firmly held principle that one should always at least ask for more.) They've burned a lot of goodwill by fucking lying but, on the other hand, this is pretty much the life we've always wanted: here in my home state, somewhere we can afford to buy a few acres, plant a bunch of fruit trees and an enormous garden, and grow old watching the sun set over the mountains.
Excuse me, I'm going to go drink a few stiff ones out of sheer relief.
(P.S. If you've been wondering why the hell I haven't emailed you back - you know who you all are, and you are legion- I'm sorry. I was too full of sadness and worry to even get as far as "Hello World". Hopefully the emotional hangover will wear off soon.)
Showing posts with label Careers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Careers. Show all posts
Sunday, December 08, 2013
Monday, April 01, 2013
Rational Decisions About Academia
The very intelligent and determined Biochem Belle recently posted a link to Jo Handelsman's depressing study on gender bias among scientists. (The results are the latest in a long series showing the same thing. I have a scientist friend with a gender-ambiguous name - in fact, he's married to a woman with the same gender-ambiguous name - and some of his recent grant reviewers were distinctly more disparaging in particular ways when they thought he was a woman.)
When I was a young, new, stupid, naive grad student, I didn't know what challenges were going to come my way specifically because I am female. I surely learned a lot over the years. In fact, I have already expressed exactly how I felt about it:
If women want to be professors, run research labs - that's great. If they are willing to put up with climbing an extra-steep hill, much steeper than their male counterparts, then it's their hill to trudge up. Then, the justification is not future-benefit-for-others, it's that that person really wants a certain thing and is working for it. Fantastic! Go for it, female-scientist colleagues! Kick some ass for me.
But women also make rational decisions to go into careers where the uphill is more equal, where salaries are more equitable, and where people have children when and how they want without their bosses publicly wondering if they're really committed to their careers. At Snooty U, only one female professor in my department had any children- one child, the year she went up for tenure. ONE.
Do you want to guess how many male professors waited for tenure?
Industry has problems. Industry has glass ceilings. Women probably still earn lower salaries on average, are penalized for female-ness, and definitely run against sexist bullshit. Nowhere is perfect. However, in academia, where the turnover is so low and the old-white-guy quotient is so high and the governance on faculty is so weak, I think the opportunities are greater for all these conditions to approach their maxima.
I liked working at Bicycle Company for many reasons, but this was the biggest: I never noticed anybody giving me a hard time for my female-ness. I stood in rooms full of male engineers, all of whom had ten times the technical knowledge I did, and I told them what to do, and they listened, because by God, I was in charge. I had a baby because I damn well felt like it, and got a $5000 raise and a $1000 bonus that year. If there was a price for motherhood, it was the same price anyone would pay for being physically absent from work for eighteen weeks - not a surcharge.
Staying in academia may be an act of love for one's work, but my love wasn't sufficient. It is a rational choice to leave, too.
When I was a young, new, stupid, naive grad student, I didn't know what challenges were going to come my way specifically because I am female. I surely learned a lot over the years. In fact, I have already expressed exactly how I felt about it:
Academia tells me that I should stay and make sacrifices for the greater good. I should see the barriers in front of me, and they should be overcome by the force of my desire to be professorial. I should compare what I want to what I can have in academia, and give up what I want. I should see the price of motherhood in academia and elsewhere, and pay it.And furthermore, apparently, I should have put up with my competence being judged less, and with still being offered less salary, so that I and other women could change this system from the inside. In other words, I should endure personal misery, from which I would gain nothing, so that in future, people I didn't even know can benefit.
If women want to be professors, run research labs - that's great. If they are willing to put up with climbing an extra-steep hill, much steeper than their male counterparts, then it's their hill to trudge up. Then, the justification is not future-benefit-for-others, it's that that person really wants a certain thing and is working for it. Fantastic! Go for it, female-scientist colleagues! Kick some ass for me.
But women also make rational decisions to go into careers where the uphill is more equal, where salaries are more equitable, and where people have children when and how they want without their bosses publicly wondering if they're really committed to their careers. At Snooty U, only one female professor in my department had any children- one child, the year she went up for tenure. ONE.
Do you want to guess how many male professors waited for tenure?
Industry has problems. Industry has glass ceilings. Women probably still earn lower salaries on average, are penalized for female-ness, and definitely run against sexist bullshit. Nowhere is perfect. However, in academia, where the turnover is so low and the old-white-guy quotient is so high and the governance on faculty is so weak, I think the opportunities are greater for all these conditions to approach their maxima.
I liked working at Bicycle Company for many reasons, but this was the biggest: I never noticed anybody giving me a hard time for my female-ness. I stood in rooms full of male engineers, all of whom had ten times the technical knowledge I did, and I told them what to do, and they listened, because by God, I was in charge. I had a baby because I damn well felt like it, and got a $5000 raise and a $1000 bonus that year. If there was a price for motherhood, it was the same price anyone would pay for being physically absent from work for eighteen weeks - not a surcharge.
Staying in academia may be an act of love for one's work, but my love wasn't sufficient. It is a rational choice to leave, too.
Monday, August 06, 2012
Summer of My Discontent
(Written, oh, a year ago, and still true.)
As you may have gathered, Dr. S really wants to leave his lab. Any time now. And I really want to go live in Virginia. He still mostly wants to be an academic; I still mostly want to be a housewife.
Getting an academic job within a 400-mile circle is practically impossible. However, if I wanted a job in my hometown, I could find one in about five minutes. You see, their biggest transport company has a huge contract with with my former employers, the bicycle company. I used to be the person telling them how to solve all their problems.* Also, I would get paid a bazillion dollars and work reasonable hours.** They might even hire me part-time.
Most days, I want to stay home with the tots, never turn on a breast pump again, bake cookies, read books, feed the goats at the zoo, watch construction equipment.*** But it's hard to have this big problem in our lives, and know that, if only I would change my mind, it would all be solved.
Except it wouldn't be solved, because it's not the choice I want to make. I would like it, and I would hate it. I would miss the babies. I would be tired and stressed again.
If I were a little less useless and watermelon-feeling, it wouldn't be such a big deal. But as a housewife, I'm largely a failure. I mostly have dinner ready-ish when the spouse gets home; I hate cleaning, so I don't. I read a lot and do whatever the hell I feel like (within very narrow child-delimited parameters). Add in a new baby and it's going to be Tornado, With Pasta, Central around here. [Ed.: Now I feel like a fat slug instead of a watermelon. And it's more like After Big Thunderstorm, With Pasta, Central.]
It's partly the pregnancy. I feel so exhausted that I wonder if I should plan more structured things for Bug, but don't. I mean, we go lots of places (playgroup, library, zoo, farmer's market, swim lessons, park, museum) and do lots of things (baking, reading, gardening, drawing, walks, goat-feeding), but I don't do Two-Year-Old Educational Time as a formal thing. On the other hand, he talks, has pretty good fine motor control, follows directions (sometimes), can count to ten (now twenty!), knows all his colors, is potty trained, and sleeps 10 hours in a row every night; what more do I want? [Ed.: Um... we still do the exact same things all day. Except I'm not pregnant.]
I feel so helpless and out of control. I feel cranky and, paradoxically, like if I were running something professional, I'd feel better. (Probably, I'd just feel more exhausted, and my house would be dirtier.)
I don't really have a point. I'm just full of angst.
*Actually, I was that person for the second-largest transport company in the country. Which is about ten times the size of this one. I do not exaggerate.
**Not like a consultant's bazillion, but more than an academic. Or I wouldn't work there. But they'd be well-advised to hire me and pay well. I'm a troubleshooter ("See trouble, shoot it") and would make a terrible peon ("See annoying manager, shoot it").
*** Today's post-nap monologue: "The pavement profiler chewed up the pavement and then the roller came by and smoothed out the asphalt! The dump truck beeped! The machine put down the gravel and the roller came and..." Yes, he knows a LOT of truck words. (Bug was 2.5 at the time)
As you may have gathered, Dr. S really wants to leave his lab. Any time now. And I really want to go live in Virginia. He still mostly wants to be an academic; I still mostly want to be a housewife.
Getting an academic job within a 400-mile circle is practically impossible. However, if I wanted a job in my hometown, I could find one in about five minutes. You see, their biggest transport company has a huge contract with with my former employers, the bicycle company. I used to be the person telling them how to solve all their problems.* Also, I would get paid a bazillion dollars and work reasonable hours.** They might even hire me part-time.
Most days, I want to stay home with the tots, never turn on a breast pump again, bake cookies, read books, feed the goats at the zoo, watch construction equipment.*** But it's hard to have this big problem in our lives, and know that, if only I would change my mind, it would all be solved.
Except it wouldn't be solved, because it's not the choice I want to make. I would like it, and I would hate it. I would miss the babies. I would be tired and stressed again.
If I were a little less useless and watermelon-feeling, it wouldn't be such a big deal. But as a housewife, I'm largely a failure. I mostly have dinner ready-ish when the spouse gets home; I hate cleaning, so I don't. I read a lot and do whatever the hell I feel like (within very narrow child-delimited parameters). Add in a new baby and it's going to be Tornado, With Pasta, Central around here. [Ed.: Now I feel like a fat slug instead of a watermelon. And it's more like After Big Thunderstorm, With Pasta, Central.]
It's partly the pregnancy. I feel so exhausted that I wonder if I should plan more structured things for Bug, but don't. I mean, we go lots of places (playgroup, library, zoo, farmer's market, swim lessons, park, museum) and do lots of things (baking, reading, gardening, drawing, walks, goat-feeding), but I don't do Two-Year-Old Educational Time as a formal thing. On the other hand, he talks, has pretty good fine motor control, follows directions (sometimes), can count to ten (now twenty!), knows all his colors, is potty trained, and sleeps 10 hours in a row every night; what more do I want? [Ed.: Um... we still do the exact same things all day. Except I'm not pregnant.]
I feel so helpless and out of control. I feel cranky and, paradoxically, like if I were running something professional, I'd feel better. (Probably, I'd just feel more exhausted, and my house would be dirtier.)
I don't really have a point. I'm just full of angst.
*Actually, I was that person for the second-largest transport company in the country. Which is about ten times the size of this one. I do not exaggerate.
**Not like a consultant's bazillion, but more than an academic. Or I wouldn't work there. But they'd be well-advised to hire me and pay well. I'm a troubleshooter ("See trouble, shoot it") and would make a terrible peon ("See annoying manager, shoot it").
*** Today's post-nap monologue: "The pavement profiler chewed up the pavement and then the roller came by and smoothed out the asphalt! The dump truck beeped! The machine put down the gravel and the roller came and..." Yes, he knows a LOT of truck words. (Bug was 2.5 at the time)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Only Death And Taxes
Here's the thing about academia- well, life: even if you follow the ideal path, there are no guarantees. You can be on track to be CEO, and (heaven forbid) you could get sick. Or you could get married, or divorced, or go bankrupt, or win the lottery. And so on, with varying degrees of probability.
You can get a PhD at a fancy-schmancy R1, go do the ideal postdoc, publish with the Evil Empire, and still not get a faculty job. You can get a job offer at Dream U, and then have it withdrawn by the provost after you have received a written offer due to budget troubles under Aaaahnold.* You can have a job at FancyPants U, and your department can become weebly in its very existence.** You can have a baby and decide you'd rather bake cookies and go to swim lessons all day.
You never know what's going to happen.
Dr. S spent a year in a temporary postdoc, because I still had work to do on my PhD. "You should move to the Frozen North without your wife!" his colleagues said. "You'll ruin your chances of a fellowship!" his advisor scolded.
We had a kid, and we both worked part-time so the kid could stay home with us longer. "You'll lose out and ruin your chances of publication if you work part-time!" his new advisor said. "You'll never get a fellowship now!" his colleagues predicted.
He just got a fellowship.
There are no guarantees. If we had followed the perfect path, and then not gotten the golden ring, the sacrifices would not have been worth it to us. We did as we damn well pleased, because we are living our lives for now, and we still got what we wanted: a happy marriage, good jobs, and a healthy child. Oh, and a fellowship.
So there. TAKE THAT, WORLD!!!
* True story.
** Also true! And JP has all my sympathies.
You can get a PhD at a fancy-schmancy R1, go do the ideal postdoc, publish with the Evil Empire, and still not get a faculty job. You can get a job offer at Dream U, and then have it withdrawn by the provost after you have received a written offer due to budget troubles under Aaaahnold.* You can have a job at FancyPants U, and your department can become weebly in its very existence.** You can have a baby and decide you'd rather bake cookies and go to swim lessons all day.
You never know what's going to happen.
Dr. S spent a year in a temporary postdoc, because I still had work to do on my PhD. "You should move to the Frozen North without your wife!" his colleagues said. "You'll ruin your chances of a fellowship!" his advisor scolded.
We had a kid, and we both worked part-time so the kid could stay home with us longer. "You'll lose out and ruin your chances of publication if you work part-time!" his new advisor said. "You'll never get a fellowship now!" his colleagues predicted.
He just got a fellowship.
There are no guarantees. If we had followed the perfect path, and then not gotten the golden ring, the sacrifices would not have been worth it to us. We did as we damn well pleased, because we are living our lives for now, and we still got what we wanted: a happy marriage, good jobs, and a healthy child. Oh, and a fellowship.
So there. TAKE THAT, WORLD!!!
* True story.
** Also true! And JP has all my sympathies.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Assorted, Plus, Thanks A Lot, Work
1) Apparently this year's Sausage State RSV strain was unusually virulent. I don't feel like quite such a bad mother now.
2) Dear adored spousal unit: No, turning off the light-on-a-timer just in case the kid will sleep in on the weekends... won't work. Unless you call 4 AM working.
3) Work gave me a $5000 raise. Whoops. Guess they're not just putting up with me.
4) Grabby baby hands + 30 minutes of crabbulation while nursing = unhappy mama
5) Nobody sells used baby carriers at reasonable prices. People. If you paid $100, I am not paying you $90.
2) Dear adored spousal unit: No, turning off the light-on-a-timer just in case the kid will sleep in on the weekends... won't work. Unless you call 4 AM working.
3) Work gave me a $5000 raise. Whoops. Guess they're not just putting up with me.
4) Grabby baby hands + 30 minutes of crabbulation while nursing = unhappy mama
5) Nobody sells used baby carriers at reasonable prices. People. If you paid $100, I am not paying you $90.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Crankiness, Assorted
- Though I sound like a complete nut, one of the hardest things about deciding to stop working is contemplating the loss of power and respect.
- Teething. Oh, the chewing. No, child, you cannot gnaw my collarbone.
- Dr. S's former postdoc advisor, who has not been his employer for a year and a half, wants him to edit a grant. "No" or "Hell, No?" (I suggested "People in hell" or, alternatively, promising to do it and then never quite getting to it...)
- Possibly the mini-pill is making me insane.
- Possibly something else is making me insane. Or several somethings.
- CRAAAAAAZZZZYYY.
- No, really.
Friday, July 10, 2009
In Which All Parties Are Filled With Annoyance
My dear spouse is considering leaving the world of research science (which is an entire post all its own which I have no time to write although I very much want to). In consequence, he is a little disoriented and grumpy. This on top of the disoriented and grumpy that comes with never really sleeping enough. Plus, parenthood has made me able to fall asleep with a baby nursing and a jackhammer outside, and has made him unable to sleep through a cat meowing, being the reverse of our previous states. Anyhow, he's not sure what do do or how, and is feeling somewhat despairing about academic teaching jobs and disgruntled with the NIH and so on.
To add to the joy, my MIL and BIL were just here again, and there was an unfortunate combination of their inability to SHUT UP AND LEAVE THE BABY ALONE so he could go to sleep, and my dear spouse's inability to tell them to. Baby and spouse were both cranky.
I got home today and discovered that the spouse had put the baby in the carseat WRONG ALL WRONG, but really, with the clip in the wrong place and the straps way too loose and then I got really, really mad.
And his boss- who knows he's working part-time!- keeps scheduling meetings for, say, Friday at 4 pm. And then he keeps going. And then I'm annoyed at him and he's annoyed at his boss and at me and she's probably annoyed about something too. My opinion is, as always, that PEOPLE IN HELL WANT ICE WATER.
To add to the joy, my MIL and BIL were just here again, and there was an unfortunate combination of their inability to SHUT UP AND LEAVE THE BABY ALONE so he could go to sleep, and my dear spouse's inability to tell them to. Baby and spouse were both cranky.
I got home today and discovered that the spouse had put the baby in the carseat WRONG ALL WRONG, but really, with the clip in the wrong place and the straps way too loose and then I got really, really mad.
And his boss- who knows he's working part-time!- keeps scheduling meetings for, say, Friday at 4 pm. And then he keeps going. And then I'm annoyed at him and he's annoyed at his boss and at me and she's probably annoyed about something too. My opinion is, as always, that PEOPLE IN HELL WANT ICE WATER.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Did I Shave My Legs For This?
Or: The Working Woman's Mild Lament
So I spent 2.5 days at work last week. Fortunately, the Pumpkin being in the capable hands of his father, I did not worry about him. (Unfortunately, there was a great screaminess surrounding feelings of I Hate Plastic WHERE'S MY BOOB. Yes, we tried a whole bunch of bottles/pacifiers/etc. starting at the midwife-recommended time. Yes, he hates all of them.)
My work (doing high-tech bicycle repair, you may remember) is quite interesting. I like my co-workers. I like my boss. I have a great deal of flexibility in when and how I get my work done. The money, of course, is nice.
All the same, I can't help feeling, at least a little, that it is completely unimportant. On the other hand, it is important. More bicycle-riders means less pollution, reduced medical costs because bicycle-riders are more healthy, etc. Better bicycles mean more riders.
I sometimes wonder why I bothered getting all that education, anyways. I long ago decided to leave research science, so I suppose I got that PhD, as has famously been said, because it was there. I don't really regret it; I merely find my life taking- because of my own choices, mind you- an entirely unexpected direction. It's a trifle disconcerting. I look in the mirror and I'm not sure I recognize the woman there. I'm happy with what I have. But I'm not used to it yet.
Maybe, someday soon, my self-image will catch up to my life.
So I spent 2.5 days at work last week. Fortunately, the Pumpkin being in the capable hands of his father, I did not worry about him. (Unfortunately, there was a great screaminess surrounding feelings of I Hate Plastic WHERE'S MY BOOB. Yes, we tried a whole bunch of bottles/pacifiers/etc. starting at the midwife-recommended time. Yes, he hates all of them.)
My work (doing high-tech bicycle repair, you may remember) is quite interesting. I like my co-workers. I like my boss. I have a great deal of flexibility in when and how I get my work done. The money, of course, is nice.
All the same, I can't help feeling, at least a little, that it is completely unimportant. On the other hand, it is important. More bicycle-riders means less pollution, reduced medical costs because bicycle-riders are more healthy, etc. Better bicycles mean more riders.
I sometimes wonder why I bothered getting all that education, anyways. I long ago decided to leave research science, so I suppose I got that PhD, as has famously been said, because it was there. I don't really regret it; I merely find my life taking- because of my own choices, mind you- an entirely unexpected direction. It's a trifle disconcerting. I look in the mirror and I'm not sure I recognize the woman there. I'm happy with what I have. But I'm not used to it yet.
Maybe, someday soon, my self-image will catch up to my life.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
If you live near NYC, read this
November 2 and 3 at Columbia and NYU: "What Can You Be With A Ph.D.?"
A large career fair is happening in two weeks. If your university sponsored it, you get in free; see the Registration page to check if you're covered. Otherwise, I'm told it's $50.
[I may be going; if you are, and live in NYC, email me and we'll try to get together. If I go.]
The first day will focus on industry and non-academic jobs and will have seminars and recruiters from:
A large career fair is happening in two weeks. If your university sponsored it, you get in free; see the Registration page to check if you're covered. Otherwise, I'm told it's $50.
[I may be going; if you are, and live in NYC, email me and we'll try to get together. If I go.]
The first day will focus on industry and non-academic jobs and will have seminars and recruiters from:
- Biomedical, physical science and technology based industry careers
- Financial, legal and corporate careers
- Special focus entrepreneurship and international opportunities
- Academic, private and government research and administrative careers.
- Careers in publishing and communications
- Frontier Careers
- Special focus entrepreneurship and international opportunities
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