I had hoped to be able to write about how my interviews went this year at the American Historical Association meeting, but I'm sorry to say I didn't get any.
As I mentioned in my first column, I already have a tenure-track job at a regional teaching university and am only a couple years off from seeking tenure, but the state's budget woes have left me wanting better raises and smaller classes.
My lack of success so far on the market might be because I've been pretty picky. I applied for only six jobs -- at a few middle-sized public research universities and a couple of liberal-arts colleges -- but I had still hoped to get at least one interview.
The reason for my shutout, I think, has a lot to do with the fact that I am applying for entry-level jobs, but I make more than an entry-level salary. I've discovered that $4,000 to $7,000 can certainly make the difference in whether you get considered for a job. I suspect I've been eliminated from several searches over the past few years because I make too much money -- and sadly, I really don't make that much. It's pretty amazing that an institution with a multimillion-dollar instructional budget would allow a paltry sum to make or break a hiring decision. But hiring committees seem to want to bring in a new assistant professor of history on a salary in the $30s, and I make about $43,000.
My friends who work in more financially lucrative fields find all of this impossible to believe. A lawyer friend has described signing bonuses paid by his law firm that are much larger than my annual salary.
I won't soon forget the job interview I went to last year at the annual meeting of the Organization of American Historians. The position was at a liberal-arts college near where I went to grad school. After forking out the money for the plane tickets, conference registration, and hotel (a much cheaper one than the conference hotel), I went to the interview.
The job would have involved a smaller teaching load (three courses a semester instead of the four I usually teach now) and much smaller class sizes than my current position. It was the kind of small college where the professors honestly know their students. It was also in a city where I had lived for a few months while I was adjunct teaching, and I had really liked living there. The cost of living was the same or even a bit less than where I am now. Having taught students from that area during my time in grad school, I knew what I was in for and could argue that I knew their student population.
During the interview, however, it wasn't long before the money issue cropped up. The department chairman bluntly said, "Now we couldn't pay you anything more than $40,000 for this job."
Despite the slight pay cut, I found the job and the college very attractive and candidly told my interviewers, "I'm not looking for a raise. I'm looking for a change." I could tell they either didn't believe me or wanted me to say I'd be happy to take a pay cut. After the chairman said a little more about how the department didn't have any flexibility on the salary because of the budget situation at the institution, we moved on.
After that, the interview went really well and the hiring committee members even agreed that I understood the kind of students they have and would be a good fit for the job.
It seems like if you're interested in hiring the best candidate for the job, you shouldn't let a few thousand dollars make your choice for you. The department ended up hiring a candidate with a degree from a similar graduate institution (although one with just a bit more cachet) and not nearly as much teaching experience. My guess is they were able to start this person at a salary a fair amount lower (mid-$30s, I'd guess) than the one they quoted me because, after all, this person didn't have five years of teaching experience.
So, back to the present. What do I do now? Well, there still are a few attractive jobs out there this year, so I'll keep trying. I know of a couple with late deadlines that I'm going to go after.
And unlike most of the folks on the job market, I do have a job that I must admit I'm growing increasingly attached to. I like my colleagues, the town, and the schools my kids attend. The budget crisis in my state (like most states this year) continues, and it appears some really lean times are ahead. At this point, my job doesn't seem threatened, but you never know.
I know many folks who don't have full-time jobs at all, so I'm not going to hold much of a pity party for myself. Fortunately, I can think of a few things that are far worse than keeping the job I currently have.
