First Person

Not Waiting for the Ax to Fall

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By Harold M. Davis

Two years ago, when I accepted a tenure-track position at a private liberal-arts college on the Atlantic Coast, I happily left my job-hunting days behind -- or so I thought. But now my college is in the midst of a full-blown financial crisis, and I have to find a new job before I find myself out of the old one.

Five years of searching for a teaching position -- and sending out more than 300 applications -- had left me mentally exhausted. My wife and I were very happy when I landed the job, but mostly I think we were relieved. For the first time in our married life, we knew where we would be living and that we would have a steady income. We bought our first home, and I looked forward to devoting my time to teaching and research, instead of writing letters to search committees. I knew that one day I would apply for another position, perhaps at an institution closer to our now-retired parents or if my wife's career called us elsewhere. But I didn't think it would be this soon.

Yet, here I am, gearing up for another full-scale assault on the academic market. I've begun scouring the job ads each week and I've dug out my old placement files, calling references to ask for an updated letter of recommendation.

I know it is not unusual for academics to seek new positions after only a few years at their first job, but when I accepted the position I fully intended to stay here until I had received or was denied tenure. The thing is, I really like my job. My teaching load is reasonable (three course a semester) and our students are bright and inquisitive. Our classes are small, I have developed close relationships with my students, and I have a great deal of latitude in what kind of courses I teach. My salary is a bit low compared with peer institutions, but our administration is committed to closing the gap. My colleagues are gracious, intellectually stimulating, and good people whom I like and respect. Although small, my college has provided me with significant research dollars and, as I am within easy driving distance of numerous archives and libraries, that money goes a long way. Our community is picturesque and comfortable, the schools are good, and we have many museums, historic sites, and cultural events to explore. We really like it here.

But that doesn't really matter when your institution is in financial crisis. Part of our problem is common to all institutions of higher education -- a weak economy and an uncertain stock market -- but our troubles run deeper. Declining enrollments over the past two decades and dubious financial decisions made by previous administrations, coupled with the stagnant economy, have put the very survival of the institution at stake. While not imminent, there is a real possibility that the college could close its doors.

It's not like these financial woes came as a compete surprise to me. I did my homework and was aware at the time I took the job that the college had experienced some tough times financially in recent years. I knew that enrollments had declined over the past decade, and that the college had run budget deficits (paying for the shortfalls from the unrestricted funds in its endowment), which didn't hurt too much as long as the stock market was strong. I even had a job offer from another college, but chose to come here.

Maybe I downplayed the severity of the budget woes, but I did not know -- nor did any of my senior colleagues -- the full extent of our problems. The unrestricted funds are now completely gone. The college has had to scramble to find a way to pay off some long-term debt while maintaining a cash flow in the short-term for operating expenses, all with a shrinking revenue stream.

The current administration is energetic and has a vision for the future. It has made some major changes to increase enrollment, replenish the endowment, balance the budget, raise faculty salaries, and make the institution stable, solvent, and secure. It has the support and confidence of the trustees, the faculty, alumni, and students, and has infused a sense of optimism across the campus. That may not be enough.

The administration has cut operating costs by laying off many staff employees, but has not yet cut faculty members or academic programs. Enrollments have risen slightly, but not to the level needed to balance the budget. In short, the optimism we all felt a few months ago, while not completely gone, is evaporating. There is, of course, a good chance that the college will lift itself out of its deep economic hole, but it seems less probable than it did just a year ago.

At this point in my career, I had thought I would be most concerned about establishing myself in my field and building a case for tenure, rather than worrying that I might be out of a job soon because the college had to close its doors. As I see it, I have three choices: not look at all for other positions and hope that the college resolves its financial situation; search for a new position only if the college closes; or, search now for a position at a more stable institution.

I know if all the faculty members departed en masse it would put a further strain on the college, so I don't feel good about possibly abandoning ship here. But to wait could be disastrous for my family economically and me professionally. So I am not waiting. I'm plunging back into the murky waters of the academic job market again.

Although I am better prepared this time around, I am not sure fully what to expect. Will my salary demands price me out of an entry-level position? Do I have enough experience and qualifications to get the more-advanced assistant or associate positions that are fewer in number? I think I have put myself in a good position professionally to seek new opportunities; will search committees feel the same?

My situation is no doubt better than that of some of my fellow academics who are piecing together adjunct and temporary jobs. It is quite possible that my college will right its financial ship and I will stay. I'd like to be able to say that I took another position because I chose to leave, not because my college shut down. We'll see.