I was recently talking to a graduate student who was nearing completion of his degree and I asked him what kind of teaching job he hoped to land. After we both laughed at the absurdity of this question in a job market such as this (“I will take any job offered to me!”), the student responded by saying that he wanted to work at a place that “will just leave me alone.” For those who are not familiar with this kind of academic-speak, let me offer a rough translation: “I want to be employed by a university that will not make me teach too much or make me do too much committee work or make me work too much with students outside the classroom and will allow me to pursue my intellectual interests and scholarship in splendid isolation.”
I must admit that I found myself–at least part of me–attracted to such a mythical job. Then I thought about it some more.
For the last month and a half I have been largely holed up in my home office trying to finish a book manuscript and blogging as a form of procrastination. The manuscript is nearly complete and my dedication to the blog has earned me many, many new readers. Professionally, it has been a productive time.
I start teaching again in one week and while I am dreading the prospect of trying to finish a book manuscript during the busyness of the semester, I am actually looking forward to getting back on campus more regularly. While I like rolling out of bed without showering and hunkering down at the computer screen for a day-long writing session, I now realize, after ten years of teaching, that I can’t sustain this kind of life for long stretches of time.
The enjoyment I get from working at a teaching college really has little to do with how much or how little I teach. Instead, it comes from being present in the life of an academic community. Some of my colleagues might chuckle at the idea of me being present. I don’t consider myself the most sociable member of the Messiah College faculty in terms of eating lunch in the faculty lounge, or attending public lectures on campus, or connecting with students outside of the classroom. I am also quite guarded with my time so that I can complete the writing and scholarly projects I need to complete. (A lot of this will change as I become department chairperson in the Fall). But I do not think I could live without the daily engagement with other human beings–colleagues and especially students–that takes place at a small, residential, liberal arts college. Granted, there are times that I want to be “left alone,” but there are other times when I need the energy of a vibrant student body. From September to December and then again from January to May, I get to feel a little more human and hopefully, as I ply my trade, make others feel more human as well.
Thanks for this post. I'm assessing whether or not God is calling me to work on a PhD. My dream job has always been teaching undergrads at a “teaching college.” The last thing I'd want would be to be in a position that forced me into so much research that I became detached from student's lives.
I work at a research school and don't know if I could handle being at a teaching school. I wonder if this is something that people just learn at a gut level. I remember in grad school, one of my friends had a famous prof who worked at a nearby teaching school on his diss committee. (The prof was a multiple Bancroft winner, and we didn't have a specialist in his field then.)
So at one point, Karim is visiting this scholar, chatting in his office about the dissertation. In the middle of the conversation, an undergrad pops her head in and asks, “So, Professor–are you coming to our field hockey game?” To which the prof replies “Of course.” Karim was kind of dumb-founded and later asked me “Can you imagine an undergraduate asking Richard Dunn to go to a field hockey game? And him going?”
(For the record, we later courted famous prof to come to teach at our university. He declined, and instead took a position at another major research school. After one year, he asked if his job at the teaching college was still open and moved back. As far as I understand, contact with undergraduates and the collegiality he experienced in the much smaller old department were important factors in his decision.)
John: Thanks for the post. As someone who just got back from a Messiah College girls basketball game (ranked 8th in the nation!)I can certainly relate to Karim's outside reader. (I know the case you are talking about as I was at the McNeil Center at the time).
Everyone has their preferences about where they want to teach and I respect that. I am glad you are happy at your R1 school.
Bob: You would make a great prof. Just realize that grad school is a long haul, the job prospects are not great, and you will need to move to where the jobs are.
Despite the comments of faculty “who never want to bothered” by anyone so that they can pursue their research, scholars persist in getting together at professional meetings. Not only do they socialize, gripe about their jobs, talk about the spouse and kids, but they also are stimulated by the thoughts of others in their field.
A scholar in pure isolation is a scholar who is completely out of touch.
Lynn: I agree. But this is not the kind of tribalism I was referring to in my post. Thanks for the comment!