Something very strange happened to me recently. I got a job. A good job. A job at a great college. In a great location. With friendly colleagues. And it's on the tenure track, so it might be a job (fingers crossed) that I could have for a very, very long time.
After six years of searching in the social sciences, I had pretty much given up on the idea of finding the perfect job, but here it is. Mine. Please be assured that I'm not gloating (you can tell because I tend to gloat in all caps).
Rather, I'm amazed and relieved and convinced, now more than ever before, that things usually happen for a reason, or at the very least, things eventually work out for the best.
After enduring a search that included three different temporary positions, finding any job seems like cause for celebration. But what makes this outcome all the sweeter: Up until very recently, it looked as if this hiring season was going to end for me in the same way as the others.
Last summer, when I signed on to my current visiting position at Snooty University, the understanding was that as long as things didn't go terribly awry, I could stay a second year. The chairwoman began pestering me in December about my plans for next year. I told her I expected to do most of my interviewing for tenure-track jobs in February and would let her know the outcome as soon as I could.
She approached me again in January. I reiterated my (unchanged) timeline. She approached me yet again a few weeks later. And probably once more after that -- at this point, it's all a blur of pestering. Every time I saw her in the hallway, she seemed to want an update.
Cut to early February when I was rejected for a tenure-track job that I really wanted and realized that another year at Snooty U. wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Some of my colleagues were nice to me (the ones who actually spoke to me, that is). I was able to get some much-needed research done. I had found a few informal mentors (something I seriously lacked). And the location was appealing and convenient to friends and family.
After taking all of that into consideration and looking at my other job prospects, I told the chairwoman I would stay. We talked about the courses I would be teaching. She said she had to check on a few things but would firm up my schedule within a few weeks.
I told a few people in the department that I was staying. Then I heard nothing from the chairwoman. Several weeks later, on my way out the door for spring break, I stopped in to her office to ask about my final course schedule. Lo and behold, the offer had been rescinded.
Turns out, my student evaluations for one of the courses I taught were not up to the standards of Snooty U. (where, apparently, everyone is above average). The course in question, I might add, was entirely outside my area of expertise, one I had never taught before, and would be unlikely to teach again. (I'm not being defensive. Why would you say that?)
In fact, having no idea that my visiting position for next year was in jeopardy, I had actually encouraged students in that course to give me as much criticism as possible on their course evaluations since it was my first time teaching the topic and I really wanted to improve.
For the record, I quickly realized that is something no one should do, no matter what their circumstances.
The chairwoman had no interest in looking at my evaluations from another top-notch institution for the courses I would have been teaching at Snooty U. I was told, "I don't care how well you taught the course before. I need to know you can teach the Snooty students."
So. No job and minimal prospects. Even worse, apparently my main "strength," the teaching side of things, has merely been self-delusion. Let the meltdown commence!
And now the "good news" part of the story. Just at the point where I was resigned to lecturing customers while foaming lattes at Starbucks, I miraculously received invitations to two more campus interviews -- Nos. 22 and 23. The job for No. 22 is the one that is now mine. The college is located in a region where I generally was not looking to settle. I only applied there in an attempt to "cast a wide net." But I couldn't say "yes" fast enough to an interview, given my troubling new circumstances.
Before the trip, I did the usual research, and, amazingly, every new thing I learned about the institution convinced me that it was just what I had been looking for all of these years. Cue sappy music.
Driving around town the night before my interview, I fell in love with the area but still doubted my instincts. Was it possible that I only thought I liked it because it would mean leaving the chilly and gray North, and this place was warm and sunny with trees in full bloom?
The next morning, the instant I stepped onto the campus, I literally felt a pang in my gut. All of a sudden I really wanted the job.
I've been on more than my share of campus interviews, but this was like nothing I had experienced before. It was a physical yearning. Again I discounted it and chalked up my reaction to the lovely, well-maintained buildings, frolicking squirrels, and chirping birds -- and, of course, to the desperation I was feeling to find someone, anyone, to pay me a salary next year.
Throughout the day-long interview, everything I heard from faculty members, administrators, and students made me want the job more and more: A focus on teaching? Check. Interesting students? Yep. Congenial colleagues? Great support for new faculty members? Yes and yes.
By that time, I was beyond sure that I wanted the job. I knew I was the last candidate so a decision would be made fairly quickly, but the 10 days that it took (make that six years plus 10 days) were agonizing. After three days, I convinced myself that I was, at best, the department's second choice. I had done what I could, but it wasn't good enough. Poor me.
Words can't describe how excited and relieved I was when I got "the call" -- not just to have a job but to have a job I would have designed myself. I actually threw my arms in the air and gave myself a little "Yesss!" cheer.
In the weeks since finalizing all of the paperwork, I have had a chance to look back over my years on the market and all that went into things working out the way they did. Certainly persistence was important, or else I would have probably given up two or three years ago.
Luck was also important. I turned down a couple of tenure-track jobs over the years because they weren't what I really wanted and I decided to "roll the dice."
Not to sound all New-Agey, but I can't help but feel as if fate interceded. Having been chewed up and spit out by my current employer and bounced around the country for years, I figured I would, at best, find a job that I could tolerate. Instead, it's almost like this job and I found each other, and it seems like an eerily good fit.
For the moment, or more literally for the summer, I'm enjoying my mini-triumph and trying not to worry too much about the inevitable challenges, conflicts, and disappointments that are sure to lie ahead at my new job. Good and bad, I can't wait for it all.
