I have not been feeling well the last few weeks. However, the semester from hell is not over yet, so the enormous pile of work is not going anywhere and does not care if I feel under the weather.
I am really really grateful that I have a nice sedentary job and my own office, so that, when I really need to take a nap, I can close my door and do so. I feel deeply for people who have to stand on their feet all day or work with customers and are unable so sit down when they are feeling crummy (but cannot take time off). In an ideal world, the ability to sit down or lie down when sick should count as a major part of any benefits package.
I cannot take time off teaching; if you thought colleague coverage, hahahaahaha! There is no one among my colleagues who would do it. They are all "too busy." I have substitute-taught for people several times but have yet to have the favor returned. My department is a nice department: everyone minds their own business, which means they leave you alone, which is great, until you actually need something. I have grad students substitute occasionally, but the bunch I have now are pretty disinterested in teaching overall.
Over Thanksgiving, I need to grade ~60 exams for one of my classes and 2 HW assignments for another 20-person class. Also, I have two PhD students graduating in a bit over 2 weeks, which means a massive amount of text to go through for their dissertation drafts, as well as the last journal papers they need to submit before they leave.
Oh yeah, there are also 4 collaborative proposals to be submitted by the end of January, so there goes my winter break. I think what kills me is that, even on days when people are meant to rest and relax (e.g. holidays) I cannot. This academic machinery does not stop and there are new deadlines all the time. Also, once you have students, you cannot just check out and leave them to roam around unsupervised. I have fantasies of just unplugging completely for 2-3 months -- how cool would that be? Just cook and clean and watch TV while kids are at school... Aaaah. Now that would be dreamy. That's what I want for Christmas.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Hermitage's Mini Carnival on Women in Science sans Babies -- Please Submit Questions!
The ultrafunny and ultracool Hermitage, who also happens to be an avid gamer and an avid graduate student in an interdisciplinary STEM field, recently wondered why so many real-life panels of women in science end up being largely about childbearing and childrearing.
There are plenty of important issues that are of interest to all women in STEM, regardless of whether or not they have kids. So Hermitage has assembled an online panel of female faculty bloggers (yours truly being one of them) who will answer select questions from readers. The only condition: the questions cannot be about babies/kids.
Over the next week, Hermitage will collect your questions and then choose 4, which will then be forwarded to the panelists. Each panelist will follow up with a post answering these questions in a few weeks.
So please go over to Hermitage's place, say hi, and submit your questions.
And then I encourage you to explore Hermitage's wicked funny series on why being a gamer makes her a better grad student!
There are plenty of important issues that are of interest to all women in STEM, regardless of whether or not they have kids. So Hermitage has assembled an online panel of female faculty bloggers (yours truly being one of them) who will answer select questions from readers. The only condition: the questions cannot be about babies/kids.
Over the next week, Hermitage will collect your questions and then choose 4, which will then be forwarded to the panelists. Each panelist will follow up with a post answering these questions in a few weeks.
So please go over to Hermitage's place, say hi, and submit your questions.
And then I encourage you to explore Hermitage's wicked funny series on why being a gamer makes her a better grad student!
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Tenure Track Black Box
I have been thinking recently about how serious and grownup I am. Or I seem.
I suppose I really am, which would explain all the seeming.
What I don't understand is when it all happened. I was looking at my pictures and some video clips from grad school, and that wasn't that long ago. I remember myself at that time. I was young and happy. Sure, I already had one kid, but that apparently didn't dampen my spirit. I was perky and happy and seemingly fearless. And I seem to recall having a sense of humor.
I got my TT job straight out of grad school. Yes, there are a number of fields where that is still possible even if becoming rarer. Anyway, I remember being scared out of my wits about starting my awesome TT position straight out of grad school. But that was the optimal choice, for many reasons, not the least of which was that my husband and I had been raising our son on graduate student stipends and money was really really really tight, so me getting a permanent position sooner rather than later was the only fiscally sane thing to do. My husband stayed behind for a couple of years trying to finish his degree, while my son and I moved two thousand miles across the country for my new shiny TT job.
The first year on TT was absolutely terrifying. Teaching was new and took a ton of time. I had never in my life seen a grant proposal until it was time to write one. My first grants were with collaborators and that was a great learning experience. I think I participated on 10-15 proposals as co-PI that first year (none got funded). I spent a lot of time writing proposals at Chuck E Cheese's, as that was a way to ensure my son was entertained and safe for a few hours while I worked. I wrote my first single PI grant (an NSF CAREER grant) in the summer after my first year. It was funded. That phone call from the program director around Christmas time in my second year ranks really high among my all-time happiest moments.
After the first couple of years everything is a blur. I don't know when things happened -- I mean, I know when papers came out and grants were awarded and all that -- but I cannot date the events that I think really influenced what now seem to be permanent changes to my personality. In a sense, tenure track was like a black box: perky sunny n00b PI in, seasoned grumpy humorless PI out. What happened in between is anyone's guess...
For instance, before TT I was really reluctant to reject papers that were assigned to me for review. At some point on the tenure track I started taking my own opinion seriously and started writing harsher and harsher reviews. The harshness eventually plateaued and I like to think I am now pretty objective and matter-of-fact as a reviewer. And I am the one who sends you a three-page report. But I totally reject shitty papers and don't sweat it, which I never would have done in my first couple of years on tenure track.
In grad school, I worked for a Big Famous D00d. The kind who writes textbooks and stuff. I published a lot of first-author papers and my advisor was great about giving me the space to breathe and work and write papers. I know that for a few years I was no more than Big Famous D00d's offspring, just an extension of him, in many a person's eyes. But somewhere along the way that stopped. People started seeing me for me, I started getting invited talks for my own work, I started having a circle of people whose respect for my work had nothing to do with my advisor. Even some people who dislike him (he's not the most likable guy around) have been very collegial and supportive of me.
I remember not knowing what to do with grad students: how friendly vs how aloof to be with them? Should I show interest in their general well being or keep it strictly professional? How do I learn to recognize a potentially good student? I made a lot of mistakes initially and wasted a lot of my startup funds on complete flakes. And then I lucked out a couple of times. And I also learned to reject and to fire. But I also learned patience and how to tailor the project to the student. I remember not being able to come up with meaningful summer projects for undergrads the first year. Now working with undergrads is one of the most enjoyable activities. Undergrads really bring some fresh air into the group, as they readily plug into the group and work on well defined short term projects that benefit larger ones.
I have a great group of kick-ass collaborators (we just got a paper accepted today in a very prestigious journal, w00t!). I sometimes cannot believe that they actually listen to what I have to say. Intently! How cool is that?
Often I still think of myself as a very young person -- I am sure everyone does, some base insecurities never die -- but it's still curious how grown up I am. And where was I when all that was happening? Seems like I was half-asleep and the fog only lifted after tenure was awarded.
My Zen Buddhist husband (to whom I go for advice on all of my many anxieties as he's much more fun and much healthier and more effective than medication or a shrink; you would not believe how calm this guy is) says I am just getting old and that's all there is to it. Maybe. Probably. I don't know. I certainly blame -- or should I say credit? -- tenure track for a lot of my professional growing up. And since I am, like many academics, largely defined by my work, I credit TT for a lot of my self-esteem elevation, but probably a few additional insecurities too.
What is certain is that the immense pressure of rising and falling entirely on your own, with not much chance for a do-over, is scary but completely thrilling. Enjoy the TT ride, but bring a barf bag. ;)
I suppose I really am, which would explain all the seeming.
What I don't understand is when it all happened. I was looking at my pictures and some video clips from grad school, and that wasn't that long ago. I remember myself at that time. I was young and happy. Sure, I already had one kid, but that apparently didn't dampen my spirit. I was perky and happy and seemingly fearless. And I seem to recall having a sense of humor.
I got my TT job straight out of grad school. Yes, there are a number of fields where that is still possible even if becoming rarer. Anyway, I remember being scared out of my wits about starting my awesome TT position straight out of grad school. But that was the optimal choice, for many reasons, not the least of which was that my husband and I had been raising our son on graduate student stipends and money was really really really tight, so me getting a permanent position sooner rather than later was the only fiscally sane thing to do. My husband stayed behind for a couple of years trying to finish his degree, while my son and I moved two thousand miles across the country for my new shiny TT job.
The first year on TT was absolutely terrifying. Teaching was new and took a ton of time. I had never in my life seen a grant proposal until it was time to write one. My first grants were with collaborators and that was a great learning experience. I think I participated on 10-15 proposals as co-PI that first year (none got funded). I spent a lot of time writing proposals at Chuck E Cheese's, as that was a way to ensure my son was entertained and safe for a few hours while I worked. I wrote my first single PI grant (an NSF CAREER grant) in the summer after my first year. It was funded. That phone call from the program director around Christmas time in my second year ranks really high among my all-time happiest moments.
After the first couple of years everything is a blur. I don't know when things happened -- I mean, I know when papers came out and grants were awarded and all that -- but I cannot date the events that I think really influenced what now seem to be permanent changes to my personality. In a sense, tenure track was like a black box: perky sunny n00b PI in, seasoned grumpy humorless PI out. What happened in between is anyone's guess...
For instance, before TT I was really reluctant to reject papers that were assigned to me for review. At some point on the tenure track I started taking my own opinion seriously and started writing harsher and harsher reviews. The harshness eventually plateaued and I like to think I am now pretty objective and matter-of-fact as a reviewer. And I am the one who sends you a three-page report. But I totally reject shitty papers and don't sweat it, which I never would have done in my first couple of years on tenure track.
In grad school, I worked for a Big Famous D00d. The kind who writes textbooks and stuff. I published a lot of first-author papers and my advisor was great about giving me the space to breathe and work and write papers. I know that for a few years I was no more than Big Famous D00d's offspring, just an extension of him, in many a person's eyes. But somewhere along the way that stopped. People started seeing me for me, I started getting invited talks for my own work, I started having a circle of people whose respect for my work had nothing to do with my advisor. Even some people who dislike him (he's not the most likable guy around) have been very collegial and supportive of me.
I remember not knowing what to do with grad students: how friendly vs how aloof to be with them? Should I show interest in their general well being or keep it strictly professional? How do I learn to recognize a potentially good student? I made a lot of mistakes initially and wasted a lot of my startup funds on complete flakes. And then I lucked out a couple of times. And I also learned to reject and to fire. But I also learned patience and how to tailor the project to the student. I remember not being able to come up with meaningful summer projects for undergrads the first year. Now working with undergrads is one of the most enjoyable activities. Undergrads really bring some fresh air into the group, as they readily plug into the group and work on well defined short term projects that benefit larger ones.
I have a great group of kick-ass collaborators (we just got a paper accepted today in a very prestigious journal, w00t!). I sometimes cannot believe that they actually listen to what I have to say. Intently! How cool is that?
Often I still think of myself as a very young person -- I am sure everyone does, some base insecurities never die -- but it's still curious how grown up I am. And where was I when all that was happening? Seems like I was half-asleep and the fog only lifted after tenure was awarded.
My Zen Buddhist husband (to whom I go for advice on all of my many anxieties as he's much more fun and much healthier and more effective than medication or a shrink; you would not believe how calm this guy is) says I am just getting old and that's all there is to it. Maybe. Probably. I don't know. I certainly blame -- or should I say credit? -- tenure track for a lot of my professional growing up. And since I am, like many academics, largely defined by my work, I credit TT for a lot of my self-esteem elevation, but probably a few additional insecurities too.
What is certain is that the immense pressure of rising and falling entirely on your own, with not much chance for a do-over, is scary but completely thrilling. Enjoy the TT ride, but bring a barf bag. ;)
Monday, November 1, 2010
Friendly Favors
I would say I am friends with only three colleagues in my department. I get along very well with everyone else, but we are not really friends, more like friendly colleagues.
One of my department friends (henceforth DF) has a significant other (SO) who has a PhD in a closely related field. My husband and I like both DF and SO very much, and we visit each other fairly regularly. The two of them met after DF was hired here. For a while SO had a postdoc appointment in another department; since then DF has been trying to secure a position to SO's liking within our department but has not been very successful. SO currently has a part-time non-TT teaching position in my and DF's department, but hates it and wants to do resarch instead.
My problem is the following: every 6 months or so, DF comes to me asking if I can help with SO's job. Usually, it's a request to take SO on as a postoc (SO's expertise is somewhat related to mine). Quite recently, I received a request to let SO teach two of the courses I usually teach and which I had created, because the ones that SO is scheduled to teach are apparently boring and uninspiring.
I know I would never ask DF for favors like these. I think this breeches the boundary between the professional and the personal in a way that can only end in everyone being mad with everyone else.
The postdoc requests have been really bugging me, and I could not just say what was on my mind , which is "No way." SO didn't leave a very good impression on the former advisor and collaborators in the other department, and SO's publication record is not very strong overall. Also, I would never be able to advise SO as I would another postdoc because of the friendship, and SO does not even have the exact expertise I need. DF is also of the mind that SO is TT material, and that's simply not true, the record is simply not competitive, but DF is obvioulsy not objective in this situation. If I had been in SO's place and serious about getting a research position or a TT, I would have taken an unpaid affiliation position (they are fairly well off due to DF's ventures into the corporate world) and would have busted my butt doing research and strengthening my CV (SO is a theorist, so could totally pull it off, does not need a lab or anything). But I cannot say any of this. If I say what I really think, that too will likely end out friendship.
So far I have been successful at deflecting these requests, citing forgetfullness, lack of funds, and so on. What I would love is to find a way for these requests to stop. Preferably, a way that does not involve me telling DF that I don't think SO is a very strong scientist and that also lets us all remain friends. Ideas?
One of my department friends (henceforth DF) has a significant other (SO) who has a PhD in a closely related field. My husband and I like both DF and SO very much, and we visit each other fairly regularly. The two of them met after DF was hired here. For a while SO had a postdoc appointment in another department; since then DF has been trying to secure a position to SO's liking within our department but has not been very successful. SO currently has a part-time non-TT teaching position in my and DF's department, but hates it and wants to do resarch instead.
My problem is the following: every 6 months or so, DF comes to me asking if I can help with SO's job. Usually, it's a request to take SO on as a postoc (SO's expertise is somewhat related to mine). Quite recently, I received a request to let SO teach two of the courses I usually teach and which I had created, because the ones that SO is scheduled to teach are apparently boring and uninspiring.
I know I would never ask DF for favors like these. I think this breeches the boundary between the professional and the personal in a way that can only end in everyone being mad with everyone else.
The postdoc requests have been really bugging me, and I could not just say what was on my mind , which is "No way." SO didn't leave a very good impression on the former advisor and collaborators in the other department, and SO's publication record is not very strong overall. Also, I would never be able to advise SO as I would another postdoc because of the friendship, and SO does not even have the exact expertise I need. DF is also of the mind that SO is TT material, and that's simply not true, the record is simply not competitive, but DF is obvioulsy not objective in this situation. If I had been in SO's place and serious about getting a research position or a TT, I would have taken an unpaid affiliation position (they are fairly well off due to DF's ventures into the corporate world) and would have busted my butt doing research and strengthening my CV (SO is a theorist, so could totally pull it off, does not need a lab or anything). But I cannot say any of this. If I say what I really think, that too will likely end out friendship.
So far I have been successful at deflecting these requests, citing forgetfullness, lack of funds, and so on. What I would love is to find a way for these requests to stop. Preferably, a way that does not involve me telling DF that I don't think SO is a very strong scientist and that also lets us all remain friends. Ideas?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)