Making Some Bad Reads

By Christopher John Thomas

I never envisioned that changing jobs could be so stressful, but then again, the last career move I made was in the mid-1990s, just before I hit that time in life known as middle age.

After 10 good years as a vice president at my current university, I felt like I had hit a career stalemate. So I decided, in consultation with my family, that it was time to explore my options. Our older child was out of the house and our younger one seemed open to a move. I had excellent evaluations from my supervisors and a fairly broad skill set. I was ready.

Most important, my wife, said all the right things. She knew I needed a change and that my relationship with my boss was not all that it should be. Her support was encouraging because I knew that she had as much to lose as I had to gain by finding a new college to call home. She was extremely successful in her profession, she had a great group of friends, she enjoyed having the kids and their friends for weekly Sunday dinners, and we were living in a house that she had designed from top to bottom.

In the world of upper administration, an important step in any attempt to switch positions is to have a conversation with your boss. I have always believed that the day-to-day dealings with a superior are based on trust. I didn't want my boss to hear from someone else that I was on the market. And since she had held several leadership positions at various institutions over the last few decades, I figured her guidance would be valuable and constructive.

That was the point at which my job search first started to come off the tracks.

When I met with my boss, she was, much to my surprise, not in the mood to offer wisdom or guidance. If anything, my candor triggered a combative response I had never before witnessed in our nearly six years of working together. She met my explanation about wanting to seek other challenges with resentment and negativity, and proceeded to remind me of all the things she had been done for my department and me. She said I could not have picked a worse time to consider leaving because of all the challenges our institution would be facing in the months ahead. She encouraged me to give the matter more thought and then pretty much asked me to leave the room.

Well, then.

Because of the delicate subject matter, I could not share what happened with any of my trusted colleagues on the campus. It had always been my intention to conduct a quiet job search and see what was available. I had no intention of sharing my quest with any of my staff members or peers, until there was something to report.

As I tried to tell my boss, I also recognized that my search process might do no more than lead me back to my current position. It wasn't like I was unhappy, yet I did think it was a good time for me, both personally and professionally, to test the waters. And, yes, as my wife stressed early on, I needed to be willing to accept the fact that the grass might not be greener elsewhere. I, too, dreaded the prospect of leaving friends, family, and great co-workers.

From my perspective, though, the point of the meeting with my boss was to let her know that I was going to start looking. I pledged in our chat that I would be upfront about any actual interviews. I promised that I would discuss any career change thoroughly with her before making any decision.

While I didn't talk to anyone on my own campus about this, I did contact some trusted friends and colleagues elsewhere for advice. All of the professional feedback led me to conclude that, based on my boss's reaction, there was no turning back.

A couple days later I went in to meet with my boss again. I repeated my earlier points and we agreed to keep this between ourselves and see what happened. It wasn't a friendly conversation, but it was dramatically better than the first.

In the weeks that followed friends nominated me for administrative posts on various campuses, and I sent in my application materials, which were greeted with silence. Occasionally, I received a simple postcard wanting to know if I was a veteran or an Aleutian Islander, though not much else.

Then early one evening it happened. I received a call. Two days later, another call from somebody else. All of sudden, looking for a new job was like fishing for blues in the late fall: The waters started to stir, with many chances to land a good one.

By now, I was receiving calls asking for my references. I had a phone interview with one institution and a video interview with another. I was in the hunt in five searches. One was a long shot, three appeared interested in me, and the final one, I decided after a couple of conversations, was not a better situation than the one I had.

Keeping my promise, I told my boss I was going to go on a couple of interviews, but with the pledge that I would not make any decisions until we could talk. I stressed again with all sincerity that her opinion did matter to me.

While I was away interviewing, my boss apparently decided to share with a couple of my colleagues on the campus that I was thinking of leaving. I can only guess, but I envision that at least one of them saw a chance to take on a little territory. I had told my staff that I was going to visit sick parents, but one of my colleagues used my absence to share with at least three of my subordinates that I was out seeking a new position.

I was furious. I asked my boss if others had been told what I considered confidential information. She admitted that she had passed on the news to a few individuals because contingency plans needed to be made in case I left.

I was a finalist for three positions and received written offers for two. Here again, though, things did not work out as I had hoped. In one case, I loved the institution and the people but had real doubts about my future supervisor. At the second location, I liked the new supervisor and the institution. The staff members, however, were still bitter over the departure of their former boss. And by taking the second offer, I would break a promise I had made to my youngest child not to move too far away from our current location.

My wife also began to quietly retreat from her earlier open-ended commitment. I was asking her to give up a great deal, and the longer the process went, the larger her inventory became. She didn't want to leave her home, her friends, and one of our kids.

Suddenly I didn't just have a work dilemma, I had one at home, too.

It has not been a pleasant few weeks. I never envisioned any of this before starting my search. I feel -- well, I don't know what to feel these days. Obviously, as a football coach friend on another campus told me, "You made some bad reads."

I didn't envision the reaction from my boss. I didn't truly understand -- or communicate well -- that my search might not lead to anything better. I also didn't realize how much more my family needed to be involved in this decision until it was too late.

What will I do now? Stay tuned. Meanwhile, for those of you sorting through the latest job ads, I suggest you consider carefully all of the possible outcomes before going too far in seeking new employment. As I have learned the hard way, there is so much more to contemplate in a job search than how well you present yourself in a cover letter.