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The Search Goes Cold

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By Harry Lancaster

I told myself I wouldn't be anxious this time, I wouldn't feel desperate. I reminded myself that this search for a tenure-track job in literature was different. This time, I already had a good, full-time position to fall back on (albeit at a college that doesn't offer tenure). This time, I was in control of my future. This time, there was no need to panic.

Ha.

As spring inches closer, I have this sense of urgency, of quiet desperation. I'm not getting any positive responses from employers. No nibbles, no takers, no interest. And it's getting later and later in the job-hunting season.

The calm voice of experience tells me not to panic: Just because it's now March doesn't mean that colleges have finished their search processes. I know from my experience on both sides of the job search that departments have their own timetables, that candidates fall through for various reasons, that just because I haven't heard anything today doesn't mean I won't hear something tomorrow. (And in fact, even as I write this piece, The Chronicle has just advertised another job to which I'll apply.)

Still, in my quiet desperation, I hear myself repeating, "An interview ... just let me get a campus interview, and I'll show them I'm worth it!"

That's been my mantra since graduate school, back when I had my first campus interview experience. I was so desperate for a job that year. I remember that April: I had successfully defended my dissertation; the term was rapidly coming to a close; I was without job prospects and exploring postdoc options; my wife was, as they say, very pregnant. I absolutely had to find an interview somewhere.

Then almost by accident I learned that nearby Two-Year College (TYC) had a tenure-track position. Although I had never considered teaching at a two-year college, I was desperate for that first job and immediately applied. A week or so later, two monumental events took place: at 2 a.m., my wife gave birth to our first child. About 10 hours later, the department head at TYC called and asked me to meet him the very next day on my campus for a preliminary interview. We met as planned, and I frankly don't remember anything about that interview. (I think it had something to do with my getting about three hours of sleep in two days.) But I must have said something right because within a week he called me for a campus interview.

A couple of days later -- no more than three weeks since first hearing of the position -- I drove the 90 minutes over to TYC for my first interview. I was ready to wow the department, to show them I was worth it. My first stop was with the department chairman, the very stern-looking academic dean, and the even more stern-looking college president. A very serious triumvirate, they asked formal questions about my commitment to teaching and willingness to work hard with my students. I suppose I carried myself well, and I'm sure that my clean-cut, conservative appearance helped me win points.

From there I went to a classroom to give my presentation. I knew what was expected of me, and I planned accordingly; what I had not expected was that my class would be made up entirely of the other faculty members in the department. Not a student to be found. That surprised me, but I didn't think much about it, rationalizing that most students, given the choice between listening to a random lecture and doing anything else would most likely choose "anything else." At least I got to meet the faculty in the department.

After a pleasant lunch, my interview ended with a meeting with the department head. There he went over some expectations, quoted a salary, and advised me that the president had his own policy regarding reimbursements for interviewees: If TYC offered me a position and I refused it, the college would not reimburse me for my travel expenses to the interview; otherwise, I should expect to have my costs covered. Granted, I was looking at a very modest reimbursement, but I was struck by what still seems to me to be an odd policy.

The department chairman concluded the interview by dropping a minor bombshell: He told me that I was the only one being interviewed and that, assuming the president approved, he'd be calling me later that week to offer me the job.

I should have left TYC that day feeling free and light; I was essentially guaranteed the job I so desperately wanted. But something wasn't right. The more I thought about the college, the more the red flags waved. Not a word about research during my interview: Would they support my travel to conferences? Would I have time to do any research at all? No student interest in faculty interviews -- were there no majors? Did the students care? Were the students even asked to be a part of the process? No other candidates even being considered -- did no one else apply? Or had everyone else said, "No!" Then there was that president's policy; he seemed to be the sort that liked to flex his muscles.

That thought rose again when the department chairman called to offer me the job; I asked for a few days to think about it, and he replied, "Well, maybe a day or two. The president has told me that he won't wait around. He wants a decision as soon as possible and may retract the offer."

I had misgivings. But I desperately wanted that job -- to prove to myself that I was good enough, for one, and to provide for my wife and brand-new baby daughter, for another. Desperation won (and in all honesty, given the need to support my family, it would win if I had to do it all over again). I took the position.

A year later I would describe my position at TYC as "the best job to quit." It was quite the learning experience. I learned about tyrannical presidents who liked to show off their power. I learned about department chairmen who can't tell the truth about their own college because when they do, people refuse to take jobs. I learned about faculty members who hated their leaders.

I also learned that desperation, while a powerful motivator, isn't always the best motivator. Within a month of starting at TYC, I was looking for a new position.

The job search I'm in now is different. I know it is. For one, I have a job I like at a place I like, but still I feel an urgency to move on. I feel that sense of panic when there are no calls and the letters are only rejection-thin.

I'm beginning to feel that I need to make a decision: either to come to terms with my "good enough" job at a "good enough" college, or to live always in quiet desperation, searching for some ideal that may not exist.

I think I'm getting tired of the desperation.