Before I sat down to write this, I read over my previous First Person essays chronicling my job search in the biological sciences. OK, so I was cynical, blighted, and gripey.
Now that I have accepted an offer for my first "real" job, after several years as a postdoc at a federal research facility, I am much less cantankerous. Imagine that.
From the beginning of my search in 2006, I considered positions both in academe and in government research. My strategy was unlike that of many other job seekers; I did not coat the continent with my cover letters and CV's. I applied only for jobs that met two criteria.
First, did the applications require reference letters in advance? If not, then I considered applying. I knew that my dissertation adviser, otherwise known as Professor McLoopy, would never get my recommendation letters sent out on time, thus curbing my chances of getting an interview.
Second, could I really see myself playing the part as described in the job ad? I saw a lot of jobs for which I seemed qualified, but very few that fit my vision of what I wanted to do. That meant ruling out teaching-only positions, desk-science jobs, or anything administrative.
So, drum roll please, I applied to a whopping six jobs this year. No, I am not lazy. Mainly, I wanted to avoid the frighteningly high pile of rejection letters, the guilt of saying no after a department had invested time in interviewing me, and the hopeless feelings associated with waiting, waiting, waiting.
My six applications consisted of two jobs in government research, three in academe, and one in industry. I hadn't planned on applying for industry positions, but this one required applicants to send in just a CV and a cover letter. Plus, the job description was really cool and the match to my skill set was almost eerily perfect.
Within a month of applying, I received an e-mailed rejection, a "you've passed the first test" e-mail, and two requests for interviews -- one for the industry job and the other for a tenure-track position in a research-intensive department.
Both interviews, conducted two weeks apart, went well, and I could see myself in either job. I liked the people at both places; I liked the cities in which they were located; and I liked the challenges offered by each position. However, they would take my career in two different directions. I honestly hoped that I would get offered only one of them, thus saving me the difficulty of making a decision myself.
Less than two weeks after my industry interview, and two days after my second interview for the academic position, the company called to make me an offer. It gave me two weeks to think about it and offered to fly me and my husband out to look at real estate.
I immediately called my historian friend, who is in a tenure-track position and has much interview experience, for advice. She suggested I contact the academic department, say I had another offer (but don't say where), and ask it if could make a decision on my candidacy within two weeks. I followed her advice and received an e-mail that said "we'll do what we can, but we're not sure if we can meet your deadline and we're still interviewing other candidates." I took that to mean I wasn't the department's top choice.
In the midst of the waiting, my boss at my postdoc said that he had another temporary position available and that it was mine if I wanted it. I have the best postdoc mentor in the world.
Less than two weeks later (why does everything seem to happen on the job search in two-week increments?), I received a call from the academic department, offering me the position.
Back when I started my search, my vision for my future never included one, let alone two, great job offers. And, although doing another postdoc would probably not have been in my best career interests, I knew I had a fall-back plan if either offer fell through.
Decision time: The industry position involved project management, meaning a lot of report writing with, time permitting, some opportunities for my own research. The company was in a big city with lots of opportunities for my husband, cool neighborhoods, and geographically closer to both of our families.
The academic position was mostly research, with a great start-up package and a manageable teaching load. It was in a college town with fewer career opportunities for my husband and not at all close to our families.
Faced with a difficult choice, I floundered and flopped like a salmon in its final death throes after spawning. One friend, on the job market himself, advised me to play hardball and hold out for the big money. Surprisingly, the salary difference between the two positions was insignificant and therefore not a factor.
The decision came down to whether I wanted the chance to do independent research or the chance to enter a dynamic corporate environment. On the one hand, I had an offer that would allow me to continue to focus on scientific research. On the other hand, I had an offer that would free me from worrying about grant money, from staying up late nights grading, and from trying to meet tenure requirements.
I chose the academic path. My desire to be a lab geek won.
So, when and where do I sign up for the tenure-track support group?
