I got my first official rejection letter last week. It was a dream job in beautiful, coastal San Luis Obispo, but sadly it will not be mine. As my quest to find a better-paying job in university relations has matured, my expectations have been shrinking. I may be homesick for the West Coast, but my California dreaming is not paying off.
I need to move. I don't know how much longer I can handle the "Jesus is Everlasting" highway signs and "Choose Life" license plates, omnipresent in my rural, deep South environs. Especially these days, my liberal, lefty self needs the comfort zone of a coast where a few more Democrats can be found.
During my last job hunt, three years ago, at the peak of the economic bubble, I was hot, hot, hot. I averaged one bite for every two résumés I submitted. Back then I was editing a campus alumni quarterly and looking for another such post; it was a lateral move with a specific skill set, and I could use previous magazine issues to demonstrate my worth.
Now, as I seek a position as an associate vice president for public affairs, I've found it's a lot harder to climb into upper management. These are much more nebulous positions that someone can easily bluff their way into with enough confidence and a good gift of gab. I've seen it happen plenty of times. The main reason for my stalled search, however, seems to be the economy: More applicants are chasing fewer openings.
In some ways, I feel pretty silly whining about my job search in the midst of recession and war, with people out of work and lives on the line. I'm grateful to be working in a secure job at a public two-year college in these hard times. But life goes on, and I keep cranking out résumés.
I've decided to switch gears on my out-of-state search, and focus on positions in the Middle Atlantic states, a few thousand miles closer to my current location. Maryland sounds kind of appealing. Close to big cities like Washington and Baltimore, with lots of beaches and mountains nearby. Kind of California East, only colder and wetter.
With round-trip air fares running $200 or less to Washington from my current location, I'm hoping that potential employers would be more willing to invest in flying me in for a face-to-face job interview than were the California employers. In February, I applied for a terrific job at a community college in Maryland. It would be a lateral move, but seems like a perfect fit. That same week, Washington was hit by a snowstorm and became the epicenter of a Code Orange alert. I guess there are some advantages to living in the middle of nowhere. I'm still waiting to hear from the college.
In desperation, I've even been nosing around my former employer, Southeast U., to see if it would want me back. While I have too much pride to be direct about it, I've asked former colleagues and managers for references, just to let them know I'm looking for a job change. But there's a new regime in power there, and it's filling the ranks with its own allies. That's just as well. My old office is in chaos, I'm told. Not the best of times there either.
I've also considered pushing résumés on my friends, professional associates, and vendors to help me find a new position. I would even consider moving to the other side of this state -- the coastal, urban, more Democratic side. There are lots of state universities and community colleges there. That way, I could even keep building my pension. Unfortunately, I've never been forward enough to try this approach. Instead, I've spent my working life perfecting the written application in response to ads. I can put a heck of a print package together, but I know that face-to-face networking is more effective. Like they say, if you keep doing the same thing, you keep getting the same results. So far, I'm still only thinking about it.
While I'm not really unhappy with my current job, I feel like a fool staying here. I'm exhausted, wearing too many hats with too little staff, spread too thin. In spite of it, I'm doing a great job, getting terrific results -- with enrollment soaring beyond expectations -- yet I'm not even being paid the market rate. I guess when it comes down to it, the bottom line of my job search is money. And there's not much hope of getting more of that by staying here. Education is not one of our state's top budget priorities.
I suppose I really should be ashamed of this display of blind ambition and greed in these terrible times. But this is America, a culture that deifies money and rewards corruption. Like the Cuba Gooding character in the movie Jerry Maguire, I'm just one of many screaming, "Show me the money!" Despite all this cynicism, I'd like to depart on a final, positive note -- a few roses to go with my whine.
In February, I had the opportunity to attend a conference in Orlando. It was a competition among 30 community colleges from across the United States to identify the best future-oriented, community-college programs. The presentations were awe-inspiring -- on cutting-edge distance-learning technology and unique partnerships between companies and community colleges. Particularly compelling were the outreach programs aimed at serving society's have-nots. We heard testimonials from middle-aged people downsized without pensions, from battered women and single mothers, and from unskilled workers -- all of them getting job training for real jobs. Community colleges are the real faith-based organizations in this country, faith in people and in their potential. I'm really proud to work for a community college.
So, what does the future hold for me and my unbridled greed and ambition? Maybe I belong back in the cold-blooded, competitive, private sector -- or what's left of it. Maybe I should run away to a retirement haven and write romance novels and political diatribes. What I'd really love to do is become a syndicated columnist who writes about education. I may be talented enough, but I'm not sure I'm disciplined enough. Instead, I cling to the security of my dependable state job, mail résumés, and keep hoping.
