On being the broader impact

I'm writing a proposal.

This, is not actual news.  It is part of everyday academic life.  We chase money.  I'm a bit ambivalent about the proposal writing thing.  Some faculty members hate it; it's putting a price on science! Some faculty members love it; they are mostly the ones that are good at it.  I'm in the middle, to me it's just a necessary step on the way to doing the fun stuff.  Science costs money, therefore I must find money.

Proposal writing, in general, isn't really my point today.  I want to talk about a specific, rather modern aspect of proposal writing.  The "broader impacts".  It's been talked about before by those more experienced than me (just search broader impacts there and you'll get an array of results).  Today, I'm contemplating this exact issue.  Whether we like or not, whether we agree with it or not, by definition every women in science is a broader impact.  We can choose to include it explicitly in our proposals, or we can choose to ignore it.  On my own I'd opt for the latter. Today, I'm not writing a proposal on my own.  It's a collaborative project between 5 people. For tenured men and me.  The lastest draft includes a little subsection entitled Underrepresented Groups.  Not out of the normal in the context of BI in proposals.  But there it was: "Dr. Rini is a female junior tenure track scientist."

In the end it is what it is, and there isn't anything drastic I can do to change it.  In the grand scheme of proposal writing, we argue about the science, the objectives, the budgets.  We never once talk about this particular sentence.   But here is my feeling, as a women, as a scientist:

I hate being a broader impact.  I'd like to have a broader impact.  But, I don't want to be a broader impact. 

Here we go again...

It is the eve of a new semester. Overnight the 5 mile radius in which I live my life grows in population by about 25,000 people.  Life goes from a peaceful calm to a vibrant buzz.  There is more traffic, more people, more chaos, more responsibilities, more interruptions and, well, everything.  Some good, some bad.

This is the 17th fall semester I have started.  First as a student, then as a grad student, then a post-doc, then a professor.  August, is my New Year's Eve.  For me it marks the passage of time.  Each and every August, I get the same mix of feelings.  It's equal parts excitement and nervousness with a dash of  nostalgia thrown in for good measure.

The new year always gives me pause, to reflect on the past and plan for the future. It's like a mini re-invention of myself.  I get to decide what worked in the past and how to make it continue to work. More importantly, I get to decide what didn't work in the past, and how to make that better. 

This year, I was lucky.  I only spent three weeks of the summer on travel, compared to an average of 8.  I didn't move.  That's happened 10 of the last 16 summer's and it's one summer tradition I'm happy to leave behind!  So, consequently, this summer was relatively productive - not as productive as I had wanted- but better than years past.  I've started to find my groove and now that I have it, I don't want to loose it.  So I've set myself a goal for this year - protect my time.  So this is the year I learn to say no.  This, I realize is one of the most important lessons/skills an assistant professor can learn/aquire.  It's also one of the hardest to maintain. So, it's my mantra for the next nine months. 

This is, of course, why I'm sitting in a hotel room, 4 hours from home, prepping to give a seminar in the morning.  All of which was determined at 3 o'clock on Friday afternoon.  Because there's some things you just can't say no to. 

Hello, April

Well, it's been a super busy semester and teaching two new classes is keeping me quite busy.  So busy that I don't have time to read, write, knit or even sit.  I'm most definitely not complaining.  It's been a long, but good semester. I mostly have good students and I'm enjoying the new job. 

So, to give you something to ponder I'll just comment on a few things that I have read about in the last few weeks that might be of interest.

--> FSP writes about this Ms. Mentor column.  My first impression was very negative.  Based on what I read over at FSP I thought: Fantastic, Ms. Mentor just freaked out a bunch of already stressed out PhD students by telling them they now need voice training.  And that pissed me off.   Being a formally invisible female assistant professor, myself, I know that often the problem has absolutely nothing to do with the pitch of your voice, or the ageing ears of your colleagues.  I wasn't invisible just in faculty meetings, but in email correspondence and other written communication.  My thoughts or just about anything related to me was also invisible, even it was spoken by the correct timbre of a male colleague's voice.  The bottom line, if you are invisible, go get another job.    Then I read the article and I was less angry, it's not as bad as what I was expecting, but I still don't think that it was exceptionally good advice either.  My (untenured) advice would be the invisibility is indicative of a bigger problem that needs to be addressed in whatever way it can get resolved.  In my case, that was leaving. If that is not an option, find the ombudsman, let people know what's happening, find an advocate, or a real life mentor.  (Ms. Mentor is good for somethings, but I don't think she'll argue your tenure case for you)  If they are ignoring your voice, they are also likely ignoring your publications, grants and teaching reviews, and that's a dangerous situation come tenure time. 

--> Dr. Isis tells us about extremists.  Yikes, just yikes.  Here's the deal, extreme activism is not ok.  I'm not saying you shouldn't stand up for what you believe in.  Stand and be heard.  Speaking out is one thing.  Bombs and threats of violence are another. That crosses the line and  these people should be arrested for impinging on the civil rights of others.  Period. 

--> Jezebel reports on a new study finds why women leave engineering.  Really? Seriously?  Get with the program people, this is old news.  I left 10 years ago for these reasons, I was 22, "family" didn't have a thing to do with it.  I guess, it's good we finally have some numbers to back up what most women who've been through it have been saying for years...maybe now we can do something about it. 

I think I got someone fired.

I hate the feeling that goes with that.

But, no matter what way I think about it, it needed to be done.

This is another one of those sneaky things that you don't really learn in grad school and just have to navigate through once you jump on the TT.  You are a boss.  I never wanted to be a "boss".  I just want to do some science.  I just want to teach my classes.

It's a bit different from the "real world" because sometimes you are directly a boss to student workers on a particular project, similarly technicians or other wage-based employees and sometimes you are indirectly more a boss/supervisor/mentor/teacher/advisor all-in-one combo to graduate students who you pay off of a grant or someone else pays them to TA or RA for you.  Every situation is different and when everyone does what's expected of them the situation works out just fine.

But, sometimes it doesn't work out.  That's where it gets sticky.  When someone doesn't do their job they have to be let go.  Conflict of this nature isn't in my personality, but when need be I try to confront it.  These situations can get even more complicated,  in large projects where there can be several PIs, several technicians, and multiple graduate students.  Everyone has an immediate supervisor, but often you work for more than one person, or find yourself in need of the services of someone who your colleague "employs" rather than you directly, but still you are a "superior".

This is what I found myself smack in the middle of last week. A technician employed by a co-PI decided hat he was my boss and felt the need to advise me on how to run my field project, in a very disrespectful and passive aggressive email.  I had to stand up and get a bit bitchy.  In the end, I don't really know exactly what happened to him; I just know that he is now "out of the picture".

The objective side of me knows that a) he didn't do his job which is why there was a conflict to begin with and b) he was disrespectful and combative to a "superior"  and that in a real world that behavior isn't tolerated.

The girlie side of me feels like crap.

I also feel quite conflicted, because on some level I believe that the whole fiasco stems from a false sense of chivalry - coupled with a little sexism.  I'm a petite girl. It's a moderate size field installation.  I say moderate, because it is larger than my collaborators have implemented before, but relatively simple by my standards (which is why they asked me to be on the project to begin with-oh the irony).   But somehow, no one wants me to be in the field.  I get a lot of "we'll take care of that", and then it's not ever done, so when I finally put my foot down and insisted on getting something done by a specific date - all hell broke loose.

In the end the project will get done. I'll likely not work with this particular team again for reasons that extend beyond just this incident, but I do wish I wasn't forced to be the bad guy, when really I was just using my past experience to get the job done.

In the meantime, I've just received a copy of "The Art of Being a Scientist" and by first skim it looks like it might have some good advice on how to navigate some mentoring waters a bit better.

Interviews

It's academic interview season, so here are a few words on the process.

Last Saturday, I came into the office for a few hours to work on some lecture material.  In the hall I ran into one of our about to be a PhD students.  I haven't been here long enough to know him really well, but he is our student rep at the faculty meetings and I only hear good things about him from other faculty, so I assume he is top notch.  This was confirmed by the fact that he came by and said: "Can I ask you something?" and then told me that he had an interview for a TT job at a MRU this week!  To not have a PhD in hand yet and get an interview like that definitely means top-notch.  (This is the second of our PhD students in this situation this year - it's really great to be in such a great department!!!!).

In any case, his main question was "What's the purpose of meeting with the Dean?"  Which is a good question.

Here's my take on it.  I'm hoping some other academics may have some further advice in the comments that I could pass along.

The purpose of meeting with the Dean is to get any questions answered that the department actually has no control over, or questions the department won't answer for you.  In nearly all my interviews the meeting with the Dean was near the end of day 2, and there are a couple of things that happen here.

1) The dean just wants to meet you, ultimately they are your boss, so they want to make sure that you are a sane, functioning individual.  They have veto power over what the faculty decides, so making bad impression could harm you.

2) The $$.  The Dean has control over the money, so things like startup funds, salary and the like may come up.  My approach was always to feel this out.  They may ask outright for what kind of numbers you are thinking about, or they may put limits on the table.  Ultimately these funds are decided at the Dean's level, so I think they like to know in advance what they might have to prep for should you be the Department's top pick.

3) University wide policies.  The deans are usually the ones who implement things like spousal hirings, tenure clock stopping policies, tenure decisions, etc.  So if you have questions or concerns about these things, particularly if you haven't found them written down anywhere or they haven't been shown to you already, this is a good time to ask them.

4) Anything someone tells you "this is a good question for the Dean" during the rest of your interview.  Remember it and ask it.

Drive by blogging

Well, It's been awhile since I've blogged about anything.  This is mainly because I've been quite busy and never seem to have the time to sit down and write a full-on post.  So I'm going to try something new this year.  I will only write what I can write in 10 minutes.  Hopefully this will lead to more posts and less lengthy reads.  If I feel like I really want to go in depth on something I might, but I won't put it off until I find the hour to do it.  Instead I'll do the 10 minute version.  This has been inspired by my friend who just started her first blog.  She is attempting to walk more miles then she drives her car this year and is only going to commit 5 minutes a day to any particular blog post about the experience.  (As a side note: I might join her in this venture, or at the very least keep track of how much I bike/walk in comparison to how much I drive this year).

So in the spirit of my new drive-by blogging style here is the list of things I wanted to blog about in the last few months but didn't because I never really felt I'd give them justice.

1) The GQ "rock stars of science": many, many, many, many people have many things to say about this campaign.  I for one applaud the effort but am mighty offended that GQ and Geoffrey Beene seem to think science = medicine. Let's clarify that:  Medicine is a subset of science. If we want to encourage young people to enter science we should show them that.  Let's face it, there's never a shortage of people who want to become doctors and make money.  But finding those who want to save the climate, clean the air we breathe and the water we drink, learn how people relate to each other, grow our food better....or about a billion other issues that area really relevant to society to day...we have a severe shortage of candidates for those jobs.  Science is bigger than the medical fields. WAY bigger. And all of it is just as important and saves just as many lives, although in a less tangible way.  Where are those rock stars?

2) This guy.  I could rant for way more than 10 minutes about this.  Since the average american doesn't even understand what science is (as evidenced by #1 above), how about we just leave the peer-review process to the actual scientists.  NSF is really respected and has one of the most rigorous review processes around.  Actual scientists regard it as some of the hardest funding to get.  Ugh, just Ugh America.

Times up for now, but man I really had some stuff to say about those science cheerleaders too...

The Illusion of Prestige

So I was asked to write a book chapter.

If you are a non-academic, a yet unseasoned academic, or my mom, you are likely thinking:

"Wow Dr. Rini!  That's very exciting, you must be well-respected in your field to have been bestowed such a great honor. Way to go!"

A couple of years ago, I would have thought the same thing.  I would have been honored and given myself a little pat on the back and gladly agreed to the extra work in my already full schedule.  I then would have agonized over what to write, spent oodles of time perfecting it, struggled through some major periods of self-doubt and impostor syndrome.  Eventually, I would somehow have managed to meet the deadline, likely by pulling some very late nights and ignoring my husband and friends for days on end, and felt a little pride in what I produced.  I then would have prominently placed this accomplishment on my CV.   At least what I think would have happened, I was never bestowed such an honor at that phase of my career.

Now, a little more seasoned, I think:

"Great, how am I going to get out of this one?"

Now you are saying: "Dr. Rini, what are you thinking?! Surely it's a bad idea to turn down such a great honor? Yes, it's some extra work, but imagine the glory and fame it will bring you."

Um. No.  While is some situations that may be true.  In reality many of these chapters are for compendiums of review papers.  Every once in while they turn into well referenced tomes in the field and the glory and the fame is yours.  In my situation this was not the case.

During my time at FU, I was asked to write two such chapters.  In both cases I it is more accurate to say I was bullied into writing two book chapters.

The first time, a member of my mentoring committee had agreed to edit one volume of a large encyclopedia set.  In total the  the exchange went something like this:

Mentor: Dr. Rini I'm editing a volume of a super large encyclopedia.  I'd like you to write the chapter on apple harvesting.

Me: Well, my expertise are really in orange growing, so I think you'd be better off finding an apple harvesting expert, there are many I know of.

Mentor: But everyone else in the department is doing it.

Me: I'm really not sure I'm the right person

Mentor: I vote on your tenure.  (Ok, maybe it was a bit more subtle than that, but this was clearly the message)

Repeat a variation of this for two or three more rounds of email and I finally relented and agreed to do the article if my husband the social scientist could co-author with me.  We'll loosely define "co" here and I'll be honest: my unemployed hub did 90% of the work and I listed him as first author.  I'll spare you the suspense and tell you right away: Our masterpiece will be available for purchase, in 2012, as part of a $10K encyclopedia set that I'm sure will be on every apple harvester's desk or at least at some location they can access through interlibrary loan shortly after it's publication.

When the second offer came around I was  determined to be stronger in my refusal.  This time is was more like, since you are an expert in picking oranges, we'd like you talk about how to pick oranges in Antartica. It is at least of technical interest to me, but still not a big help to my career. Turns out I'm not as strong as I thought and since we had not yet decided to leave FU the threat of a no vote on my tenure was to much for me to risk.

So hear I sit, dying to dig into some of my own fabulous orange tree data and make a contribution to the field, but learning all about  how it's done in Antartica.

At least my mom be proud :)

The two-body problem: Part 10 - The aftermath

If you know me, you know I like round numbers, and 10 just sits better than me than 9...

I'll start with the punchline first: Hub and I are happily ensconced at NU (New University) and we are flourishing.  We've made friends. Work is great. We are living in a ginormous house, which we are not paying for.  Life is generally good. 

The road from there to here, however, was a bit bumpy. For a while now, I had been thinking that an "aftermath" post was appropriate to finish out the series.  The other day I wrote a very long, detailed post about what happened after we officially decided to leave.  It turns out, however, that it is completely impossible for me to write about the experience in anyway that doesn't sound bitter.  Even simple sentence structure, straight to the point facts, come out well, angry.  I sat and stared at that post for a while but just couldn't bring myself to hit publish.  There is good stuff in there, stuff someone could learn from, but I just don't want you all thinking that I'm a mean person.  I think the other problem is that the truth is so bad that by publishing it I feel like I'm betraying those at the FU (former university)* who actually were decent human beings.

 The thing is, I'm not really bitter, or angry, maybe a touch, because I have a right to be after the mess.  But putting it down makes me sound petty, and I'm not petty.

Here's the short story: It was late February, the new jobs didn't start until August.  I was still teaching at FU and had other professional obligations. In those 5 months. I tried my best to make the transition as easy on everyone as possible.  The administration had other ideas.  There were lies, unprofessional actions, and questionable ethics. I visited the ombudsperson.  I considered consulting an attorney.  Eventually, we reached a reasonable solution, but I had to play dirty to get it. Well not really "dirty", but there were some moments where I had to get a bit feisty and tell it like it was.  People don't really expect that from a 5'2" quiet girl, but push me hard enough and I'll always fight for what I know is right. 

My "colleagues" who had only previously only pretended to be polite stopped pretending at all.  Most of them I found unbearable when they were pretending; you can imagine what is was like when they stopped censoring themselves.  Other colleagues that I had considered friends turned against me, and got mean (I think that was the hardest part).  Some were good, but the bad far surpassed the good.

In the end, I finished out the semester. I kept my door closed at all times except my office hours. My students knew the situation and had no trouble knocking and then announcing themselves to be sure I'd open up for them.  The day after graduation we packed up the car and drove out of town.  I spent the summer home with my family and in the field.  I haven't looked back since.

I really like this to be an educational post, with some great nuggets of advice for some other young faculty who may be considering leaving a TT position.  But, the reality is it was a crappy experience.  I had a fairly good relationship (or so I thought) with my colleagues before deciding to leave.  I had a really good - nearly bullet proof - reason for leaving. An unemployed husband. I mean seriously, what rational human being could argue with that? I went out of my way to keep (most) of the professional reasons to myself.  Yet still,  I was treated badly. Borderline illegal badly.  If it was a contentious situation to begin with, I would imagine the transition period would have been even worse. But, the optimist in me would like to think that my experience was an anomaly; that most faculties are normal, rational human beings (despite much evidence to the contrary)


So I guess the question is: Would I do it over again?  ABSOLUTELY!  It was a crappy few months, I'm not going to lie about that, but in my mind it was short term pain for long term gain.  My life situation now is so much better it is not even a fair comparison.  So here is the wisdom from one who has gone before: if you know it your gut your situation is a bad one, there is a better one out there.  The TT doesn't have to suck.  Ironically, that's just about the same thing my friend-lleague who had moved mid-TT told me when I first considered applying!  She was right; maybe I should send her some yarn :)


* Sorry I just couldn't resist.  If we can't laugh a little what the heck is the point?

The two-body problem part 9: The counter

(This is more parts than I thought it would be)

Once we were set on my situation, it was time to start the process (in miniature) with Hub. He went for a visit. Liked what he saw, negotiated a little on his salary and situation and came back happier and more excited then I've seen him in a really long time. To us the decision was a clear one. This opportunity was far superior for both of us.

But, there were a couple of downsides, most notably, we'd have to move, and sell our house (I'm wincing just typing those words).

We talked and weighed our options ad nauseum. We consulted some of our trusted friends, who kindly told us we were stupid for even considering staying. We did not, for the first time in our lives, consult our parents. This might have been the hardest part. But, we were concerned that the possibility of us being closer to home would overwhelm any rational opinion they could provided on the topic, and we really wanted to make the right decision for the right reasons. (I love you, Mom, but you know it's true).

We also, continued to follow our policy of honesty. I had told my department head, who in turn had told the dean, when I was going on the interview, when I got the job and when I got the final offer. As bad as my experience was here, I owed them the chance to make it right. I was forthcoming about the reasons both the personal and professional.

That's where things started to get sticky. As much as I knew in my heart things here were crap, being an eternal optimist, I always want to believe the best in people, and a teeny tiny part of me wanted to hold on to some hope that I had not wasted the last two years working faithfully for a department that really didn't want me anyways.

Almost immediately the reaction, on the surface, was "We can't loose her", "What can we do to make you stay?". "Don't make any decisions yet, we are not out of options here". There was an early morning phone call with the dean when I was at a conference, there was a meeting with my husband to see "what he wanted". There were alot of conversations about what I needed, what they where offering, what hub was going to do there. (It was kind of fun to watch the Dean almost choke when he saw the startup offer). BUT, there was never a concrete counter offer. UNTIL, the last possible minute. AND, it was a halfhearted "match" at that. It was never really made clear what they were "matching" my salary? my startup? hub's salary? hub's startup? and specific questions were met with a "whatever you need" type answer and nothing was given in writing. The conversation took place 24 hours before my signed offer letter needed be mailed back to the new institution. We considered it for about 30 minutes before I formally told the dean and department head of my decision. Remember, we had already weighed all of the pros and cons, doing so based on the hypothetical that current U would match. Moving still won out, so we happily signed our offer letters and Fed-Exed them off.

I hear that Universities will sometimes work hard to keep faculty. That wasn't my experience, but as more pieces of the puzzle are revealed, I wouldn't take my experience as typical. Turns out the corrupt-ness of the situation here goes WAY back, and it turns out they didn't want to hire me in the first place because some upper administrator doesn't like the potential "competition" our department poses to his power trip or something, so same administrator has some strings to pull when it comes to counter offers. Let's just say all those nagging suspicions I had about my position here weren't really in my head, but a reality.

So there you have it, that is how we solved the two-body problem, for now at least. It's a wine win, in the end it turned out to be just as much about a bad situation for me as it was about the two-body problem. But the latter was the driving factor and the very tangible one. We are very positive and excited about the new place, we can't wait to move there and get going. I feeler surer and calmer then I have in years. Hub does too. We are patiently waiting out our days here and even though there has been some crappy fallout from the decision (maybe it will make another post), I don't really mind. The truth is clear and I'm confident that I've not compromised any of my core beliefs in finding it out.

The two-body problem part 8: Negotiations

Now the fun began!. Negotiations. Figuring out the conditions of the hire. This is the first point of success or failure on the TT. You need enough startup money to meet the expectations of the tenure requirements at your University. You need some kind of teaching release for your first semester. You need to spell out what you are going to teach, how often you will be making new classes, what your service expectations are. Where you're space will be, lab space, grad student space, computers, furniture, everything.

The first time, I was prepared for this. I had even read books about it. I had lists, I knew what I needed. The negotiations went something like this.

U: please send a list of your startup estimates
Me: Ok, specific equipment for just a lump sum
U: specifics
Me: Ok, here are the equipment estimates, I'd also like to fund a graduate student to startup, I don't how much that is at your institution
U: Don't worry about it. Your salary is $xx and $xxx is all the startup you can get. There is nothing more. Sign the papers in one week.

It wasn't quite that harsh, but it was made clear that I wouldn't be negotiating and that if I didn't sign soon (almost immediately) there wasn't going to be a job at all. The letter came, it seemed pretty standard, I read it carefully. But, if you'll remember correctly we were desperate, so I didn't argue. That was a mistake, and to be honest, it set the tone for my whole time here.

This time it was much different. It was actually a little bit fun. We started with salary, which we had talked about a little bit at the exit interview. Based on that conversation, I was worried that they weren't going to be able to match my current salary, which was all I really wanted. They came back with a substantial raise. We moved onto startup costs, I was again very honest. This is what I need to match what I have here and will need to leave behind. This is what I need to really get a solid program going. We discussed it rationally, and I got it all. We negotiated space, travel money, teaching loads, summer salary. Each point was handled rationally and fairly. Mostly everything I asked for was given or something else was given as a consession. (e.g. No grad assistantship because of current budget, but some money to hire an undergraduate lab tech).

I negotiated with the Department head, and in between dealing with the points necessary for me, he scheduled a visit for hub. Finally we got down to an agreement, which was contingent only on the outcome of hub's visit. It took several weeks, and it was so easy I was actually sad when it was over. It was really nice to be wanted and respected. A whole different tone right from the start.

The two-body problem part 7: Introducing the Husband

After the reality sunk in. We cautiously entered into negotiations. Remember, that one job doesn't make our situation better, we needed two.

There is a lot of advice on how to handle the two-body situation with a perspective employer. This advice ranges from "don't wear a wedding ring on the interview" to "be upfront from day 1".

Last time, I didn't bring it up, but I answered any questions that came up.* When I was offered the position here, I took it, but started asking about possibilities for hub in my initial conversations with the department head.

Since we all know that that approach didn't work, and two-jobs was necessary for us to move again, I took a new tactic this time. I asked to meet with the dual career office during my interview. In the part when they ask, "is there anyone you'd like to meet while you are here". "Yes, the dual career office to explore possibilities for my husband either within the university or the local community" (remember, I had done my research, I knew they had one).

I wasn't able to have a meeting during my interview, but it cleared the air, everyone knew the score going in, and I discussed the situation earnestly with the department head during my exit interview**. It was not awkward at all. When you are pre-tenure and looking for a new position, there has to be a reason. The interviewers are trying to tease out if it is a legitimate one, or if you are a dud. I was prepared for this and was able to answer honestly on both fronts. Professionally: "My current department isn't a good fit for reasons x, y and z " Personally "my husband still hasn't found a job" To my surprise, this was often met with: "yes, we know your current U is dysfunctional", "you seem like and odd fit for that program, how did you end up there anyways", "No PhD program!" and "oh we have a great dual career program"

When it came time to enter negotiations, it was a simple as "yes, I'd like to negotiate in good faith with the understanding that some type of employment for my husband will be a deciding factor". The department head asked the Provost and the initial offer came back with a funded one-year post-doc for hub and a trip for him to visit and explore the long-term options on and off campus.

It was as easy as that. In this case, my moral compass what dead on right: Honesty is the best policy.


*legally they aren't supposed to ask, every interview I went on they did, some overtly and uncomfortably, some naturally when I slipped and said something like "we own our house".

**This is the point after the two days where everyone has felt you out and gossiped about you and the department head is going to talk numbers and tell you when they are going to make a decision. This is the most important moment of the interview, you can usually get a strong feeling about the department's feeling for you and this is where you should lay the groundwork for start up needs and what not.

The two-body problem-part 6-A potential solution presents itself

Even though I was determined to not let this consume me, it did. Once you actually do something it becomes part of your life, whether you want it to or not. I received a confirmation email within minutes of hitting send. This was a good sign that they were serious about hiring, and it indicated that they were planning to choose interviewees in one month. A quick response like that makes the wheels in your head turn.

That, and they requested letters from my references within an hour of my submission. I found this out quite by accident later in the day when I talked to one of these references and he said "So you decided for sure to apply for that job?", and I said, "Yes, how did you know, I just sent my CV today?", "Today? Really? Wow your CV must rock because they already asked for a letter".

That was fast. Really fast. So fast that logically it could only mean one of three possibilities.
1. I was the only applicant (which I knew wasn't true)
2. The search chair was really efficient (which turns out to be true, but this was overly efficient by academic standards)
3.They also felt that I was exactly what they had written that they wanted (which was the one that gets in your head, because you don't want to believe it, but a little part of you feels really proud, and it turns your hypothetical to a possible)

Suddenly this went from just sending in a CV to something highly interesting. There was buzz among friends and colleagues about the job, about others they had known who applied. Academics can be as gossipy as teenage girls sometimes.

A week or so later, the buzz died down and we all returned to real life, and I once again almost forgot all about the whole thing. The one month window passed and I figured that was that. Then I got a call asking if I was still interested. 3 weeks later I was there, interviewing, and falling in love with the school, the town, the department and the people. I made friends with other faculty within minutes, the grad students were super smart, the town was nice. I was treated with respect and it was really great. It was almost too good to be true. I came back exhilarated, but figuring that there was no way that this was happening. No one is that lucky. There were a couple of small ticks in the negative column, most notably a higher teaching load, but overall it was great.

4 days later, I had the job, and I was in shock.

Once the shock wore off, we started the long process of negotiations and decision making.

The Two-Body Problem - part 5 - seeking a solution

So, once we decided to look for a new situation, we did just that. Scoped the job boards, watched the mailing lists, etc. We figured that since we were waiting for the "right" position in a down economy it would be awhile. Rather than the broad net we had cast in the first go around we set a few parameters on what we would look for, and more specifically where we would look. The reasons for this were both personal and professional. The two major factors were:

1. Geographical location: We would only move north and/or east from where we are now. This was to be closer to family, etc. Hub also wanted to limit how north since we have decided that winter sucks. I was more flexible on that option.
2. Only universities with dual career offices/policies would be considered. Reason pretty self-explanatory.

If a posting met those criteria off the bat, we would then consider further. This level included things like the program the posting was for, it's fit for our academic interests, teaching loads, course offerings, career distribution of faculty (nice mix of full, associate and assistant profs), size of faculty, program/university ranking, etc.

Basically the plan was to do a lot more background research before sending out application.

About three days later I opened my email to a job posting that met all of these criteria. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hmmm. This one looks interesting. Listen to this "TT position, niche sciency stuff that I do, courses that I really want to teach, etc."

Hub: I don't know much, but those are science words you use alot, sounds like a possibility.

Me: I suppose, but we'd have to pack up all my yarn.

Joking aside, it was like the posting was written for me, about me, even. It was almost surreal. That doesn't happen to often. I was a little excited and a lot scared. While we had decided that this is what we were going to do, I wasn't expecting something so perfect to pop up so soon. The thought of putting myself out there again was, well, just heavy.

I put the posting aside, there was a month before they would review applications anyways, and we were just starting a new semester and I wanted to see how it went. But...I found myself re-reading that posting every couple of days. Every time I did it sounded better and better, and I would do a little more web research about the program and the university. Slowly everything was ticked off the list, and there wasn't a single reason not to go for it. Well, except that fear. I called some trusted friend-lleagues, who were very encouraging, but it was still hard to make up my mind.

Finally, the deadline was here and our "faculty retreat" made it even clearer that staying wasn't going to be a long-term sustainable option. So I fired off a cover letter and CV. I put very little time into the prep work (This isn't something I would recommend). In retrospect, I'm not sure my heart was 100% in it; seeking change is scary. In any case, it was just something I did, along with the dozens of other emails I send in a day, and then I went back to my business. I was willing to look, but in no way was this going to consume my life.

The Two-body Problem - Part 4 - Meanwhile

The job we did have, the one we had turned our lives on end for, was turning out to be not all that. You'll all remember how much trouble I had getting a job in the first place. That's the TT gig, we knew it when we choose this path, but what I found here was not what I had been hoping for, a fact that contributed to a lot of self-doubt and depression, until I started tapping into my larger network of colleagues and realized that I was not crazy, but rather the situation wasn't quite right.

It turns out that I'm in a really dysfunctional department and the overall culture of the University is really behind the times. I'm not going to go into specifics, but we'll just say that I'm often put in situations a normal pre-tenure faculty shouldn't be put in. Situations that make me consult my moral compass, and make me worry that when I follow it, I may feel some negative consequences. Think everything bad that the term "old boys club" conjures up and I'm living it.

Aside from that, I'm not a good fit for the education mission of the department. Most people don't know what I do and seem to get upset when I tell them it's not what they think I do. I have yet to get a permanant course number for any class I teach, which means I'm making up a new one every semester, and getting really low enrollment in said new courses. I can't put together a full committee for my graduate students because no one in the department has appropriate skills to fill those roles. These things combine with some of the cultural issues to put up big road blocks to my research program.

Despite that, I've been successful. In just under two years, I've received ~quarter million dollars in nationally competitive grant money for myself (well over 1.5 mil if you count the grant totals for all PIs), and published 3 papers, with 2 more currently under review. My teaching ratings are above average as well. I say these things not to brag, but to make the point that in most normal situations, I'm successfully meeting the requirements for tenure. I'm not a scientific rock star, but I can hold my own. I think it's important for anyone reading this to understand that I'm not whining, I've been making the best of a bad situation.

Yet, I worry. Not the healthy kind of worry, but the kind that makes you bite your tongue in faculty meetings. The kind of worry that made me have to think hard about whether or not to turn in a student for plagiarism because it might ruin my chances at tenure.

Finally, I'm in a master's only program, when I interviewed, I was told that we had a new undergraduate degree and a PhD program that would be starting up at the same time I arrived. Neither of these has materialized. I wanted to become a faculty member because I love both teaching and research, without undergrads and without PhD students, you're limited on both ends of that spectrum. So ultimately, this was not the job that I wanted.

Couple all of this with Hub's employment situation, and I was on the job hunt again.

This was not an easy decision. The thought of it actually made me want to throw up a little. But the thought of staying in this situation forever was even worse, so there you have it.

The Two-Body Problem - Part 3- Making the best of it and taking control

To make a long story short, a full year went by, with little success on the soft-money front. Hub wrote several grants, large and small, and we even wrote one together. All came back with decent reviews, but didn't quite make the cut. He continued to work on publishing papers and got two under review, he went to a conference, and that was just generally the life we settled into. He managed to hook up with some other folks on campus and "consult out" some of his survey technique skills and experience with social data, which resulted in the equivalent of 3 months of salary. (he did the work in October, and got his first check in mid January, but that is an entirely different story of incompetence and idiocracy at it's best).

All in all, it wasn't that bad, but it also wasn't that great. He was stretching his skills to participate in projects that had cash associated with them, he was hanging out in the attic, and coming upon road block after road block with the logistics of his appointment/position/etc. After 12 months it was getting really old. His "appointment" had no legitimacy with it and ultimately, he was just some guy they let hang out in the attic. After a year, it was time to re-evaluate. But, we weren't entirely sure what to do. No place was hiring, and we had spend all those years in school to get the PhD, so it seemed a shame to waste it. We were kind of at an impasse on Hub's career path.

I'm not going to lie to you, and I'm not going to belabor the point, but the situation was starting to put a strain on our marriage and our lives in general. The number of emotions and stress wrapped up in the situation was high, and it was starting to take a toll. The lack of stability really starts to weigh on you after a while. We pressed on, but both of us knew that the situation wasn't sustainable, and that something had to change. So, at the start of the school year, we decided that we would selectively pursue other opportunities that came available. What that meant in practical terms was that we both were keeping an eye on the job boards, and specifically, hub would expand his job search nationally, and we would consider all options. We were going to take control of the situation and do our best to change it (for the better).

Meanwhile...on the TT ride, I was on a really long downhill slide.

The two-body process: Part 2 - The soft-money plan

Soft money is just what it sounds like. It is salary that is not definite. To survive only on soft money you have to be a good writer, an innovative scientist, and a general all around academic superhero. Plus you have to have a bit of luck. There has to be money at the granting agencies, it has to be in programs relevant to your, now widely diverse, research program, the money has to be enough to support you and the research.

Many people have long and very successful careers on soft-money, and for two bodies, it is often a good solution. One guaranteed salary can ensure you get through a "lean funding cycle", which can be for a couple of months or so, and sometimes you can supplement by teaching a class here or there.

The problem with a soft-money position is that there can be a long lag from the time you submit a grant to the time it's awarded (6-18 months), which means, when you are just starting out, there is a minimum of 6 months without salary, assuming you have a proposal ready to submit on day 1, so realistically you are looking at a year of no pay. It's also not an easy road for a young academic for several reasons.

1. You don't necessarily have a track record to help you get a grant (the old chicken and egg problem)
2. You are most likely only going to be able to get a month or two salary from every project (sometimes more, but at the start that's really all there is), which means that you could easily end up spliting your time between 6 projects to gain a full time salary.

In my limited experience, most trailing spouses pursuing the soft-money plan are given some help from the University to help carry them through that early phase, such as a half time salary, or a per class teaching compensation. At the very least, they are given a gratis appointment that will allow them to pursue the soft-money option with some legitimacy. A PhD at large can't just submit a grant to NSF, it has to come from an organization of some type.

My University had already adademently refused to provide financial support in any way. In fact, two weeks after my dear husband asked about teaching opportunities, and was told there were none, a full color ad appeared in the local paper looking for instructors in the department in question! His formal application never received a response.

So there we were four months in, and hub was unemployed, continuing to apply to local businesses, the state agencies, etc and not receiving a single response. It took a little doing, but he was able to convince a department to give him an adjunct appointment for one year, and keys to an office in the attic where he could work on trying to get a salary for himself. Two months later, the University had actually managed to process the paperwork and he was off to the races!

Optimism was running high in our house. That was 10 months ago.

The two-body process, Part 1

A long time ago, I decided to talk about the two-body problem from the real-time perspective of living it. Then I didn't.

I can make excuses, but the truth is I didn't because living it was painful enough and I didn't have the personal strength to put it out into the world. I started several posts and didn't finish them. They always felt incomplete, and worse yet, it felt counter-productive to just be another whiner about something that was plaguing us so severely. It is a serious problem, but when it strikes home it's harder to handle.

Here's the score. I have a tenure track position. It's what I've always wanted to do and my husband was gracious enough to support me in that endeavor. My husband has a PhD, as well as a professional master's degree, that should have allowed for employment outside of the academic world. We moved here optimistic that he would find some position, he had ~ 4 months left on a post-doc and he was allowed to finish it up remotely. We felt 4 months was plenty of time to find a job somewhere in a city of !~225,000 people. That was 16 months ago.

Those first 4 months were crazy. There was the move, there was a hurricane, there was culture shock, there was two mortgages, my father had heart surgery, there was the "global financial crisis". It was bad. We worked and tried to stay on top of our lives. Hub even did some temp work to make ends meet. He put out many job applications and we told everyone we met of our plight. (Having of course been often reminded that in the South, you have to know someone to get anywhere). Before we knew it, the window was gone and still he was unemployed. That was 12 months ago, about the time I wrote that original post.

We hatched a new plan. The soft-money plan. A title, an office and the gumption to write some grants was all we would need.....

Being a Judge

One of the great things about being a science professor (even at the assistant level) is that sometimes we are asked to participate in really great events. I'm at a state institution, so tax money supports some (or possibly all) of my salary. Which to me means, not only do I do my job, but I should give back to the community whenever I have the opportunity to do so. So when I was asked to do this, I readily agreed. Some faculty think these things are a burden, and in some cases I would agree. This, however, was not, actually, it was kind of fun.

The Junior Sciences and Humanities Symposium is a DOD sponsored program to get high school students involved in science. The regional symposium, which is the state-wide level, is held at my institution each year. Students from all over the state present original research to compete for a scholarship and the chance to go to the national competition. One of the many opportunities this program provides is feedback from practicing scientists (like me!). By serving as a judge, I interact with students by asking them questions about their research projects and hopefully provide positive feedback on their work. Students get not only involved in science at a very real level, but learn communication skills as well.

Holy cow, these kids are smart! Some of the projects in other fields like chemistry and microbiology went right over my head. One girl was doing research closely aligned with something I just got a grant to do! I was seriously impressed. Weather you are a parent, a scientist or a lay person, I would encourage you to get involved in this program, or something similar. For a brief moment, I got a glimpse of the future, and it isn't as bleak as TV news would lead us to believe.

Why would I say to get involved? Well there are a couple of reasons, the main one being that it is these kids that will eventually make the discoveries that may save lives, or discover something new. That alone is is worthy cause. The other reasons are a little sadder, but still very valid:

As great as this program is, not a single competitor was from a regular public high school. Magnet schools and private institutions only. These kids were smart and curious by nature, but they were successful in getting to this level because of their parents' economic status. Poor kids are smart too. So are middle-class kids for that matter. And as judges, we don't care if they did the research at their parents' fancy biotech firm lab, or in their garage. We care about how they did it, and how well they understand it.

If you are in a position to do so, get the word out. It doesn't cost anything to apply. The high school doesn't have to do anything, parents can do this on there own. So can teachers: start a program, incorporate it into your teaching, make a science club, whatever! Even if you just give the program information to one kid, you might change a life, and that life can change the future.

And finally, this program is sponsored by the DOD, so it will keep going on some level, but the people who run the regional competitions are mostly paid by universities. My university is in the midst of a budget crisis, as most state institutions are. Here, that budget crisis is exasperated by a series of bad political decisions and a lack of public support. Half of the judges, you know, the practicing scientists for kids to see, will very likely see pink slips next week. They are in teaching positions that will be cut. Which means, not only will the high school kids lose out in the future, but the college kids too. If you are in a state where things like this are happening, call your representative!!! Without education, our society can't progress forward. Without funding, education can't survive.

Back on the Ride

Well I came be back from the field and jumped right back on that TT rollar coaster. It has been 3+ weeks of non-stop chaos. I'm exhausted and there is no end in sight. This is a recurring theme here, and somedays I'm not sure that it's the theme I want to be living. At the same time I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing, so I slog on. (That's not entirely true, I'd rather be traveling the world, but that's a bit unrealistic methinks).

This semester adds a couple of new dimensions to the ride though, so I thought it might be worthy of a blog post. I am an advisor. Yup, you heard me right, the shoe is most definitely on the other foot now, and I've got to tell you it's terrifying, fun, and frustrating all at once. I have two students, different as night and day. Both are going to be great graduate students and I'm sure they will succeed, but all that stuff between know and then is definitely going to be interesting.

This experience has gotten me doing some self-reflection. I've been trying to remember what it was like to be in their shoes. A brand new graduate student, fresh out of undergrad, trying to figure out what's what and make a go of it. Moving farther away from home, having a pseudo salary, balancing courses and research, narrowing down a research topic at all. Figuring out just what research is anyways.

I've been doing this mostly to remind myself that I shouldn't expect them to know everything all at once; what's natural to my trained research brain is completely foreign to an untrained one. In the process it's made me remember some stuff too. Over the course of my graduate school career I had two different advisers (one for my M.S. and one for my PhD). I had very close relationships with both of them, but at the same time, both relationships were very different. Which reminds me that there are many different ways this can succeed, there is no magic formula.

Both were fantastic advisers and both taught me different things.

AND both probably deserve very nice letters thanking them for what the gave me, and apologizing for what I gave them, particularly the one that got me first, because if I had even a little in common with my new students, I'm sure I'm responsible for some gray hairs on his head!!

Still alive...`

...and kicking and climbing. Just so the blog doesn't feel ignored, there are 400+ unread posts in my google reader, 214 unread messages in my gmail and 100+ things I need to deal with or file in my school email. Life in the field is busy. Work hard play hard. But for those of you who wonder what I've been up to since I left the feedlot last month, it's exactly that. I've been up this:

That's me up there. Boy are my arms tired. Home and hopefully to regular posts and updates in ~1.5 weeks.