Question (from "Lenny"): I am an A.B.D. in linguistics and a traditional liberal, rather to the left of most of my students. But we're good-humored about it, I like this country, and I respect the majority religion, though I don't practice it. Yet it seems I'm almost alone among people in my field. I can avoid such subjects in interviews, but if I work somewhere for six years, people will find out where I stand -- and then what?

Question (from "Ned"): I'm up for tenure this year, and my department is not supporting me. One of the issues is "unprofessional demeanor and appearance." I have been spoken to about teaching in jeans, but now that seems to be in print as if it's a defensible reason for my tenure outcome. What should I do?

Question (from "Philip"): I'm a successful freelance writer who's taught courses at Local U., where there's now a tenure-track opening. But Local has the lowest faculty salaries in the country, the students are dreadful, and the state is medieval in its treatment of education. I'm middle-aged and I can't pretend to be other than what I am: compassionate, honest, and generous. But I do speak my mind, am impatient with petty politics, and am driven to excel in my work -- which threatens those who are insecure. Should I even bother to twist myself into a pretzel and apply?

Answer: Ms. Mentor is intrigued by the number of academics who consider themselves unique -- almost all in the same ways. She is reminded of the hippies of the 1960s who flaunted their individuality by dressing alike and hiding behind their hair.

Likewise, every academic is a compassionate and generous soul who insists on honesty and deplores political infighting. All academics want to dress comfortably, and sometimes oddly, without any hootings in the hallways. All academics want bright students who are enthralled by the subject matter -- the glory that was Greece, the beauty of a cone.

But since academics know that distinctions must be made, Ms. Mentor will now assign her sage readers to reread this month's letters. Assume that all the candidates are equally qualified on paper, but you can hire only one of the three. Which one will you choose?

As you hum and twiddle and cogitate, consider: Will your new department-mate do committee work cheerfully and promptly? Will you enjoy lunch and sharing ideas? Will your new colleague be a good listener, communicator, and teacher?

Philip, alas, is convinced of his own superiority -- which does not bode well for his interactions with colleagues. All jobs involve "petty politics" -- egos, high horses, low blows. But to decide ahead of time that a college is mediocre, its students inept, and its faculty envious of your productivity seems to Ms. Mentor to be a recipe for depression, if not rage. It's rather like giving a student a pre-emptive F before the course starts.

Ms. Mentor, who has infinite generosity and compassion for students, advises Philip to stick to his writing career.

And then there is Ned, in his jeans, hoping for tenure despite his "unprofessional dress and demeanor." (Ms. Mentor does wonder what that means). Perhaps Ned is at Small Religious College, where the restrictions on dress, body language, and subject matter are stricter than at Large Public U. Ned was definitely warned (mentored) about not wearing jeans to teach in, yet he persisted. Was he protesting middle-class values and affirming himself as a free spirit? Or was he (as Ms. Mentor fears) taking a tough stand on a trifling matter and letting his career fall apart rather than wear a suit?

Ms. Mentor does not know what other "unprofessional" acts Ned may have committed. She presumes that they are the other "issues" he mentions, and that he is not being junked simply for his jeans. If he has been denied tenure, he seems to have no recourse, especially if his university's tenure policies also mention "collegiality," a nebulous and dangerous criterion that may mean "doesn't fit in." Ms. Mentor advises Ned to decide what aspects of "professional behavior" do fit him, for he must get on with his life.

"Lenny," finally, seems to be the only one who respects the opinions of others. He joshes with students, studies his professors, wants to know how to be a successful academic. Lenny will find some kindred liberal spirits. After all, Al Gore was more or less elected president. If his political opinions are not part of a course's subject matter, Lenny needn't express them -- although he must, of course, use any instances of bigotry as opportunities for careful education.

Ms. Mentor is least worried about Lenny, and most likely to hire him -- because he is neither obstinate nor wedded to his own worth. In his first year, Lenny will study the culture, and listen.

Ms. Mentor reminds readers that academe is not a world apart. It consists of people who've gotten excellent grades, yet have all the bad habits, misplaced ambitions, and saintly values of any other humans. (Some even have lusts.) Ideally, entrenched professors want to hire new people who are congenial and cooperative, but who have enough backbone and new ideas to add vitality to a department. And while senior profs like being venerated as sages, they were not always establishment pillars. Many of them didn't fit in either, at first.

Watching senior professors now will help you decide whether academe is for you, and whether you want to be part of one of the few professions in which you are paid to think and share ideas. Ms. Mentor would never let that slip away.

Question: My new boss, in a small academic program, exhorted me to eat ice cream at lunch, when I preferred pizza. Have I committed a faux pas that will inevitably lead to denial of tenure, the loss of all I hold dear, and my descent into penury and life living in a sewer, fighting rats for edible garbage?

Answer: No.

SAGE READERS:: "If everyone could get along all the time, you wouldn't have so much fodder for your column," writes one correspondent.

Academics often have a "Bah Humbug" spirit, especially those going to the end-of-December Modern Language Association convention, "the slave market" for desperate job seekers in English and foreign languages. Ms. Mentor especially invites MLA'ers to send rants and fulminations, as well as the usual gossip and queries. She is still gathering material for a column on coming out in academe, and for a new book.

As always, anonymity is guaranteed, and details will be scrambled. Ms. Mentor does not do individual consultations and rarely answers personally, and recommends that readers consult her archive and the others on this site. Doing your homework is always a good thing.