Downplaying My Doctorate

By Eugene Thompson

As a newly minted Ph.D., I was fortunate to immediately land a non-tenure-track assistant professorship at my alma mater, a large flagship research university. I was not a newcomer to academe, having spent 20 years in various administrative jobs, but this would be my first experience on a faculty.

It proved to be shortlived. The salary was lower than what I had been used to in administration. And I also had to adjust to the informal faculty culture where everyone was on a first-name basis; even the students called professors by their first names. Rarely, if ever, did I hear myself called "Dr."

After two years in that position, I learned that I would not be offered a contract because of low enrollment. Instead of searching for another faculty job, I decided to return to administration to see how far my doctorate would take me there. I applied for a job as an associate vice president for administration at a small private college and was surprised, and gratified, at how quickly the college called me for an interview.

I immediately alerted my references to be prepared for a call. Soon after, one of my references called to say that he had looked up the college's Web site and noticed that few of its upper-level administrators had a Ph.D., including my potential supervisor. I hadn't noticed, but my reference was concerned that that would work against me. He told me I should downplay my doctorate, especially to the supervisor.

I laughed and told him that would be easy, since I had just left an environment in which everyone had a doctorate and no one made a big deal of it.

Upon arriving at the private college for my interview, I met the gentleman who would become my supervisor. He had been at the institution for more than 15 years, working his way up to a vice presidency. Our conversation was enjoyable, and I felt as if we were old friends. He had four children and, between having a career and raising kids, in his own words, "there wasn't time to get a doctorate."

Admonishments from my reference were ringing in my ears, "Downplay doctorate, downplay doctorate." Without missing a beat, I responded that I understood the dilemma of juggling the professional and the personal, and immediately changed the subject.

My final interview of the day was with the president. She asked me various questions regarding my faculty and administrative experiences. She ended the interview by saying, "I am glad that you have a Ph.D." That comment was reassuring. Shortly after, the college hired me and I began to think that maybe my reference had it all wrong.

The honeymoon period went well. Then gradually, my supervisor began to ask me questions about my Ph.D. How long had it taken me to earn the degree? How difficult had it been?

I didn't have a problem answering those questions, but I did feel uncomfortable when he would give me a list of reasons why he did not have his doctorate. I felt as if I had to validate his educational attainment and the choices he had made in life. Following my reference's advice, I would "downplay, downplay" and shift the discussion.

But he began to raise the issue of my Ph.D., and his lack of one, more and more. Unsure how to respond, I would sometimes just remain silent. Maybe that response, or lack thereof, created a schism, but I felt the winds shift, not only with my supervisor but with the president as well.

At one of my weekly meetings with my supervisor, he shared confidentially that the president felt that I thought I was "above" doing certain things for the college because I had a Ph.D.

I was floored, and puzzled, since I rarely interacted with the president. I thought it odd that she would make such a remark since she had seemed pleased that I possessed a doctorate, and she had one as well. I could not recall any instance in which I had referred to my degree or refused to complete a task because it was beneath me. Since that bit of information was told to me in confidence -- as a way to "help" -- I could not ask the president for clarity.

I came to realize that perhaps either someone was feeding inaccuracies to the president or maybe the president did not think this at all. I began to suspect that it was my supervisor who harbored these feelings but cloaked it in such a way that I could not validate the truthfulness of the statements.

After all, it was my supervisor and not the president who would bring up my Ph.D. in disparaging ways. In critiquing a report I submitted, he surmised that it was "too wordy, as if you were writing a dissertation." In another instance my supervisor shared that the president did not like how I introduced myself at a particular meeting, which indicated that I had an air about me.

During my year-end review my supervisor finally shared that perhaps my strengths would be better served in the faculty ranks and not in administration. I found that assessment amusing since I had spent a majority of my years in administration and had found my short stint in faculty work very taxing.

Needless to say, my administrative contract was not renewed but I was offered a contract to teach a course, which I politely declined. After a year as a private consultant, I moved on to another university as an assistant vice president of academic affairs. I recently ran into my old supervisor and the conversation was reminiscent of when he had first interviewed me.

Void of the university stress that comes with the supervisor-employee dynamic, our conversation was once again delightful. He ended by sharing that he was going back to school for his doctorate.

I said to him, "Good for you!" I thought to myself, "And good for the next person who has to work for you!"