When I was offered my first professional job almost seven years ago as an assistant dean of students, my supervisor, Dr. Renee Alexander, told me that luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. Those words stayed with me from that moment on, and I realized that I needed to commit myself to ongoing personal and professional development if I wanted to thrive in my career. Sometimes, this advice is fulfilled in unexpected ways.
My cell phone rings at 11:08 on the morning of February 20th, and I see an unknown number that I innately knew was the call I had been dreading. Too much time had passed since I was supposed to hear back. I did not get the tenure-track position I hoped for. I was not surprised. The world of higher education is small, and in the days leading up to that call I was informed that a friend of a friend heard who received the offer and that they were likely going to accept. Given the hearsay of it all, I hoped that maybe the candidate would not accept, and I would eventually be made the offer. But no, that did not happen.
This year, the most stressful part of my doctoral journey was figuring out what happens next. For the past couple of years, I have been mentored by the best and have been able to publish, conduct my own research, and teach. It reassured me that I did want to become a professor. However, I also knew that I wanted to be closer to home. Although I was never more than a few hours away from home, this year I have been able to live within a half hour from my family and I was reminded how much value they bring to my life. And so, I was really worried about being on the academic market because I was socialized to believe that I had to be willing to take a job anywhere, especially if I wanted to be on the tenure track. I knew I did not want to compromise, but I was also enamored by the idea of exploring new cities and different types of institutions to develop professionally as an academic. However, being able to see my nieces grow up, to spend more time with my parents and elderly family members, and to no longer feel like there was a major disconnect between my life as a professional and my family—I knew that my heart was at home.
I was stubborn. I only applied to faculty jobs in areas that were close enough to home or in desirable cities where I had a strong network of family or friends. However, in October, I saw that an institution close to home had an opening. It seemed perfect. The institution aligned nicely with my research agenda, it was conveniently located, and the way that the call was prepared spoke to things that I was really interested in involving myself with. I enthusiastically applied. Although I was nervous, something felt right and special about this.
I eventually had a phone interview, which went great, and I was invited for an on-campus interview. Now the nerves were really settling in. I had worked so hard to get to this point, and everything seemed to be lining up perfectly for me—I was so afraid that I would somehow mess up and lose the opportunity for my “dream job.”
The on-campus interview, was of course, the most stressful aspect of the process. I constantly thought: Am I good enough? Does my research matter to them? How can I communicate that I am an effective teacher who values teaching?
Overall, I thought I did a great job. I had a great time. I connected authentically with the faculty and administrators at my job talk. What really drew me into the program more was meeting the students and seeing how collegial their relationships were with the faculty and how excited they were about the potential of me joining their program. In fact, after the interview, I exchanged several emails with students, offering advice on navigating the job search process and trying to secure a position at one’s alma mater as a recent graduate. Everything really seemed to be working out in my favor.
