For those bearing a master's of fine arts, academe offers two typical career scenarios: You might be one of those people who teach studio art or foundations courses full time, while making and exhibiting art on the side. Or you could be one of the multitudes of M.F.A.'s out there creating and showing work, racking up part-time teaching experience, and seeking full-time employment on a campus.
In a short period, I've done both. I've led the scattered existence of teaching at multiple colleges and pursuing my work, while holding down assorted jobs to pay the bills. I've also experienced the less geographically diffuse, but not necessarily less harried, lifestyle of balancing teaching, research, and the other responsibilities of the full-time academic. The passage from one to the other has involved long hours, several moves, and a great deal of flexibility regarding the breadth of courses I teach. And it may have been worth the effort.
I received my M.F.A. in 1999 from a large, private Northeastern university, and applied for two or three tenure-track positions in western New York during my last year of graduate school. I didn't really think I'd leave graduate school and sashay into a full-time teaching position, but I thought I'd see what kind of response my applications received and, maybe, practice my interviewing skills. Nothing significant happened, so I taught part-time at state and community colleges for a year.
In the year after graduate school, I couldn't find any openings that fit my background in the area where I lived. However, I had family in the Midwest and thought that if I had to start over, it might be wise to do it near people I knew. Besides, Chicago wasn't too far away. So in January 1999, I applied to six Midwestern colleges, and one in New Mexico (for fantasy's sake) that offered full-time, tenure-track positions in my areas of specialization.
A small, liberal-arts college arranged to interview me at the College Art Association conference that year. I had also applied to a large state university for a position to teach figure drawing. This was the position I coveted but wasn't qualified for, given the three years of college teaching experience the job required. I took a chance and called the university anyway, arranging an interview with their representatives at the association meeting because, well, you never know.
My interview with the liberal-arts college went poorly -- an obviously bad fit. To their credit, the interviewers were forthright in their goals, and let me know that the college's interest in my own research and exhibitions was negligible. Their questions focused on how I would solve specific student discipline and motivational problems and how I would get along with others (e.g. Was I willing to share a copier with adjacent departments?). It felt like an interview to teach middle school rather than college.
My interview with the state university was brief but exciting. The faculty members who interviewed me fit my ideal of professional artist/educators -- dedicated to teaching and their own work. They responded to my enthusiasm, my students' artwork, my work, and my small-but-significant exhibition record. I had hoped that some of my previous work experience might be substituted for the three years' teaching requirement, but that wasn't possible.
After I returned from the conference, another small, liberal-arts institution called and arranged a phone interview. It went well, I was flown out to the school and, frankly, I was ready to compromise. I had decided that another year of four part-time jobs (two of them in teaching) was out of the question. A full-time position anywhere had to be better and more conducive to my own work than the fractured life I'd been leading. I received a decent tenure-track offer, and I accepted it. I spent academic 2000-1 as one half of the college's art department (the other half was graphic design), teaching seven different courses, five of which I had never taught before.
It was an incredibly full, busy year. At some point, however, I did raise my head and note that that large state university had two job openings for which I was qualified. I applied, was a finalist for both, and began teaching there this fall in a tenure-track position.
In a relatively brief time, in a competitive field, I have achieved many of the professional goals I set. Although this doesn't necessarily imply the acquisition of euphoria, I have friends who, years after completing grad school and chalking up exhibitions and teaching experience, simply hope to glean an interview or two from 20 applications. So, how did I do it?
Well, I'm not really sure, but I have some ideas:
In graduate school I held multiple graduate assistantships. And in my second year, my undergraduate alma mater hired me to teach an advanced drawing course and an introductory painting class. It was a frantic year, but I learned a great deal about college teaching in two pretty safe, supportive environments. My assistantships also allowed me to make connections with other working artists and college instructors. I observed how they structured their lives and presented themselves, and I learned from it.
I began exhibiting my artistic work -- figurative paintings that evolved into multi-layered, three-dimensional pieces involving figures, maps, and text -- not long after beginning to work toward my bachelor's of fine arts, and I continued to do so during my M.F.A. years. By the time I was teaching part time and seriously applying for jobs, I had been included in some significant regional shows, including one at the Albright-Knox Art Gallery.
In fine arts, job candidates demonstrate their teaching skills by showing artwork created under their tutelage. My students' work is very strong. Administrators want to know that students leave your classes with visible, measurable skills. In the upper-level courses I teach, I allow students a lot of room to explore, but my introductory classes are very structured, with specific goals for each project. I've seen my peers show slides of their students' work that included many expressive pieces, but no demonstration that students had acquired skills beyond what they had when they entered the classroom.
I received strong letters of recommendation. In the past, I had sought letters from teaching peers and supervisors. For my application this year, though, a colleague suggested I seek a recommendation from a professional outside of academe who could speak to my work and exhibition activity. This was excellent advice, as the committee that hired me did contact the director of a nonprofit gallery where I'd had a solo exhibition and had later served on the board of directors. She could brag for me about my inclusion at the Albright show, talk about my professional dedication outside of the classroom, and place me in a larger community.
My work included digital pieces. It's the rage right now. Its presence in my slides told the committee I was familiar with several programs and could integrate digital work into my courses.
When I didn't get a call for an initial interview, I arranged one myself. I checked on the status of my applications. There is a thin line between being assertive and a pain in the neck, but generally you can tell when you're crossing it -- that mildly irritated tone in the administrative assistant's voice is a hint.
I dressed professionally, rather than as an "artist." I wore a suit (black and pants) to interviews and a blazer for slide presentations of my work. I've seen candidates get jobs who wore black T-shirts and jeans to their interviews, but they still operate within professional conventions -- they demonstrate strong skills in their own work and that of their students as well as an ability to communicate well and evidence of discipline and enthusiasm.
Any or all of this may not prove useful to someone in another, distinct search.
By this fall, I had taught in four colleges in three years, and moved twice. Was all that multi-tasking -- teaching, producing my own work, and looking for jobs -- worth it? For the most part, yes. I haven't been as involved in producing my artwork as I would like, and that's a problem. However, I have the tenure-track job that I've dreamed about at an institution that promises to support my research, limit the range of courses I'll be teaching, and allow me to teach majors, exclusively.
I like teaching. I got into this, though, so that I could teach and dedicate myself, in part, to the research and production of my work. Will I be able to have it all and have time to relax with a cup of coffee on the back porch, serene because I'm reading a journal, have a piece in progress, and am ready for class tomorrow? Don't laugh, but I hope so. At least once a semester.
