Job Market Flashback Pt. 7

This is the latest installment of my reflections on my time on the academic job market.  You can find the rest in one ridiculously long blog post here: Job Market Flashback

For what it’s worth, the timeline for all of the jobs to which I applied and interviewed in my first run at the market (2014-2015)—six out of around seventy-five—was as follows: 

• TT Assistant Professor at Southern Public Tech: Phone Interview mid-October; Crickets…
• TT Assistant Professor at East Coast U: (pointless) Conference interview in November, Critickets…
• Assistant Professor at Midwest Private U: Phone Interview in late January; Written Supplement requested in early February; Notification of Search Cancellation late February.
• Assistant Professor at Midwest Small Liberal Arts College: Essay responses requested in early February; Crickets…
• TT Assistant Professor at Southern Regional Campus: Phone Interview in late January; Campus Interview in late March (after the preferred candidate declined the position); Offer received and declined a week later.
• Post-Doc at Big State U: Video conference Interview in late March; Offer mid April; Offer declined within a week.
• NTT Assistant Professor at the Ohio Small Liberal Arts College: Campus Interview mid April (a few days before BSU offer); Contract signed May 1.

In mid-May I was furiously pounding away at my dissertation—mostly between the hours of midnight and four A.M. because that’s when the baby slept—and beginning to dream about my future as a professor at the Small Liberal Arts College (SLAC) in Ohio.  I had, by this time, mostly stopped checking the job boards and sending out application materials.

That’s a lie.  

Well, it’s partly a lie. 

I hadn’t stopped checking the job boards.  I checked them less frequently, but I still checked up on the jobswiki to see how things were moving and the InsideHigherEd and HigherEdJobs pages to see if new (or better…) gigs popped up.  I did, however, actually stop applying to jobs—meaning that my poor letter writers were spared writing any more recommendations on my behalf for a few months.  What hadn’t stopped, however, were the search committees out there reviewing materials that I had sent out prior to signing my contract for 2014-2015.

Little did I know, after the semester ended there was yet another wave of search committee activity.  In the fifth wave, new jobs were still being posted—mostly temporary/replacement hires—and things moved very quickly.  In late May and early June, I received at least two more requests for interviews that I remember.  I had already signed my contract with the SLAC in Ohio, but the opportunities were still trickling in.  Honestly, the number was probably more like four or five, but I can only recall two specifically.

The very same day that I signed my contract for fall 2014 at a less-then-desirable SLAC in Ohio, I scored an interview request for another visiting professorship position at a much more prestigious SLAC in Ohio.  I declined because I had signed the contract.  I often regret not taking that interview.  That’s a lie.  I regret it All. The. Time.  In fact, I regretted it so much that I applied to the very same position the following year, but that’s a story for another blog.

The other interview that I declined was for a Regional Campus of a Mid-sized State U in Ohio.  It was, to be clear, a regional campus that I didn’t know even existed—which is saying something for a kid from Ohio, but it was a tenure-track position.  It was a pretty good job.  In hindsight, I should’ve taken this interview, too—and not just because the job that I had signed on for was less-than-awesome (it was, for reasons, but that’s a different story).  It was tenure track, it was connected to a State University and, therefore, provided access to some, though not all, of the resources associated with a large university.  It also created opportunities for connecting to a larger network of folks actually in my field rather than trying to sort everything out on my own.  On the other hand, it was a work horse job.  It was one of those jobs where the candidate will spend the entire time teaching core courses, gen-ed requirements, and pre-reqs for more interesting courses.  Not ideal for a forever-job, but a fine place to start a career.  

I did not realize this at the time.  In fact, I was convinced that the job I’d just signed on for was a better job than this TT Regional Campus gig.  It was not, but that’s how buyer’s remorse works isn’t it?  For better or worse, I had made a decision and spent the rest of the summer questioning it and justifying it to myself.  Given a time machine, I would have slapped 2014 me after declining the interview then gone back a day earlier and encouraged myself to take it.

I took for granted the difficulty of getting a tenure-track position.  I also gave too much power over to the contract that I had signed.  Although I do not condone making a habit of skipping out on jobs after signing contracts, it does happen.  This was, at the time, beyond my comprehension.  The contract was signed and I was committed.  The issue at hand was plain as day and the only course of action before me was to decline these otherwise attractive interview offers.  In hindsight, it would have been entirely reasonable—for me as an early career scholar and to the admin at my soon-to-be-very-short-term job—to consider and, if offered, take either position.  Terminating the signed contract would’ve been considered by some—well, to me—to be unforgivably unprofessional, but it also would have been in my best interest.  It’s worth remembering that the market and most of the norms of hiring in the academy give absolutely zero fucks about a job candidate’s best interest.  

Unsurprisingly, candidates are conditioned to act accordingly.

Now, I’m not advocating for job seekers to apply for all the positions in a job cycle and work through contracts until they get the best situation.  If a person doesn’t actually want to work somewhere, they shouldn’t sign a contract to do so—they probably shouldn’t even apply (I know, given my story so far, that’s rich).  Vacating positions before starting them isn’t a decision to be made lightly.  If, however, a better opportunity presents itself it is a decision that must be made and one that should be considered.  I don’t think anyone at the SLAC in Ohio would’ve begrudged my taking a TT position elsewhere.  I think they would’ve been disappointed that they had to find coverage for my classes, but—and I know this because of conversations after the fact—no one expected me to be there for more than a year or two.  

At the end of they day, the tenure-track is a pretty good reason to skip out on a temporary contract.  As far as employment history is concerned, it would be an easy story to sell in the moment and to potential future employers if they somehow got wind of the vacated contract—and if it was a dealbreaker then the fallback position would’ve been a tenure-track job, which is a pretty nice safety net.

As a faculty member, I’ve been on the other side of vacated contracts, too.  Sometimes for good reasons and sometimes for altogether unclear reasons.  It’s a pain in the ass, no doubt about it.  When a candidate accepts and then walks away from an offer, the department loses a ton of time and effort from the labor put into the search.  Individual faculty will feel slighted.  The department, or the chair, has to scramble to solve unexpected problems in the schedule.  It sucks.  But, at the end of the day, I have to really dig into my memory to remember who those candidates were because my job kept going on without them and I soon forgot about the failed search.  

Of course, in all cases, I’m talking about term positions being vacated. It’s something else altogether to vacate an accepted tenure-track offer.  Tenure lines are often hard for departments to come by.  Walking away from a signed tenure-track contract is a surefire way to really piss some people off.  But, at the same time, some people need to be pissed off.

In my case, I wasn’t confident enough to rock any boats.  I had mostly resigned myself to believing that the less-than-desirable SLAC was the best I could get.  So, I finished my dissertation, figured out the logistics of living and working in places that were a hundred-fifty miles apart, and prepped my fall classes.  Oh, and I sent out another essay for publication while updating my CV and application materials for another run at the job market—because the market never ends.