Dear Search Committee

Dear Search Committee:
    I'm writing to apply for a teaching job at your school in College Town, USA. Even though I've lived in Chicago for several years, I grew up in a small town. So it wouldn't bother me at ALL to move back to a town where people refer to Wal-Mart as "the mall."

While my grad school classmates were winning academic awards, publishing articles in scholarly journals that no one but other scholars read, and presenting their research at conferences that no one but other scholars cared about, I was taking orders from twenty-two-year-old retail supervisors on power trips.

I was shelving books and climbing over people who stretched out on the floor of the store while they read, scattered books all over the place, and never bought anything. At least fifty times a day I resisted the urge to bitch slap people who complained that The Economist wasn't where it was supposed to be or that I wasn't ringing up their purchases quickly enough. I was folding clothes and selling store credit cards to customers who didn't really need them, all so that I could get nothing more than minimum wage and a high-five from my supervisors. I was selling overpriced souvenirs to tourists who would say stuff like, "Wow! Is it this loud in the city ALL the time?"

Working in retail is an exercise in patience; you could say the same thing about teaching. Therefore, I'm much more likely to keep my cool when my students take out their cell phones for the twentieth time during class, rather than pry them out of their hands and fling the phones out the window.

My students will DEFINITELY learn about grammar. I correct people's grammar all the time for FREE, and no, I don't know why I'm not invited to more parties either.

I've taught students at schools all over the city. That means that I know how to teach students at all different levels, AND I know how to respond to all their excuses about why they didn't do the homework or why they missed the last seven classes in a row.

I'm a better teacher than I am a scholar, even though I know that's a MAJOR faux pas in academia. I just never understood why an academic lecture or discussion in an English department sounded more like a discussion that political science majors or economics majors would have. I'm pretty sure that when William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, and Ernest Hemingway sat down to write, they weren't necessarily obsessing over the political/economic/racial significance of their themes (though I know that some writers did). They just wanted to write good stories that people would read and enjoy, not stories that people would over-analyze in articles and dissertations with hundreds of footnotes.

I know that my lack of scholarly credentials means that I will probably never get a tenure-track job at a prestigious university. I think that's almost as unfair as the fact that university administrators get six-figure salaries, while untenured faculty members don't earn enough money to buy food.

I gave up almost everything else in my life in order to become a professor. I worked harder and suffered more than I ever thought I would.  I wish that mattered in academia, but it doesn't, at least not as much as all those scholarly articles and conference presentations.

Anyway, I hope against hope that I'll hear from you, especially because I REALLY don't want to go back to working in retail.

Sincerely,
Neurotic Workaholic

I'm going on the academic job market this year, which is why I haven't been blogging as much lately. That letter is what I wish I could write, but of course, I'm not allowed to say anything like that to search committees. It's the truth, though.

What about you? What do you wish you could say to your employers, prospective or current?

I Wish I Was Brave Enough...

1. To point and shriek "SHAME!" at the guy who served me cold pizza but offered to personally reheat the pizza slice of the girl behind me, who happened to be ten years younger and twenty pounds thinner than I am.

2. To tell my ex-crush how hurt and angry I felt when I showed up for what I thought was a date, only to find out he'd invited several of his friends to join us and then to sit there and listen to him tell me all about the woman he had a crush on (needless to say, it wasn't me).

3. To go up and talk to one of the cute guys at the gym where I work out, none of whom ever look at me, except the time I tripped over my shoelaces and fell face-down on an exercise mat.

4. To tell my relatives that there's nothing wrong with me just because I'm not a wife, a mother, or a "real" doctor.

5. To wear a swimsuit without keeping myself covered up with a towel or five feet of water the entire time.

6. To show my writing to more people.

7. To tell "friends" how I don't want to keep hearing about how much fun they have with their other friends, especially because they never invite me to join them.

8. To tell the other grad students who brag about fellowships, publications, and conference presentations that even though I haven't accomplished as much in academia as they have, they probably wouldn't last a day working at any of the retail jobs that I had.

9. To lock the classroom door so that the students who think it's okay to waltz in thirty (or forty) minutes late will learn to show up on time from now on.

10. To tell students' parents who complain about my rules or try to bully me into changing their kids' grades that it's time that they AND their kids GREW UP.

11. To tell the students who never taught a day in their lives yet claim that they can do my job better than I can that I wish I could be there when they try to treat their bosses with the same blatant disrespect.

12. To tell the people who hurt me that what they did WAS wrong, even though they show absolutely no remorse or act like they never did anything wrong at all.

Here's Sara Bareilles' song "Brave", which made me think of all the things that I wish I was brave enough to say out loud:




What about you? What do you wish you were brave enough to do?

Single and Thirtyish

When you're single, female, and thirtyish....

1. You will often get phone calls from relatives who ask, "When are you getting married?"

2. You will also get phone calls from relatives who say, "Did you know that [insert the name of your childhood nemesis here, and yes, I had more than one] is already married and has three kids?"

3. Other people may say to you, "Don't you WANT to have children? You don't have much time left."

4. Friends who are in relationships will give you birthday/Christmas gifts that are either baskets filled with bath products (I must admit I like those) or scented candles. If I lit all the candles that married friends have given me, my apartment would immediately catch fire.

5. MANY thirtyish guys will reject you for twentysomething (or teenage) girls and believe that their personalities are the only reasons that those girls want them.

6. You start to think about all the guys you went out with and wonder if you made the wrong choice: "Even though he flirted with the waitress/left me with the check every time/criticized my job/was ten years older and three times balder than he said he was in his profile, maybe I SHOULD have given him another chance."

7. When a hostess at a restaurant asks you, "Is anyone joining you today?" you may or may not feel tempted to say, "No, my boyfriend couldn't make it. His name is Ryan Gosling and he's very busy."

8. Some friends and relatives will make jokes about you being an old maid. You will make jokes about throwing sharp objects at them.

9. Your friends who are in relationships will not be able to spend as much time with you (or will disappear altogether and only hang out with other couples). When you do see them, they will refer to themselves as "we," show you pictures of their significant others, and tell you all the romantic things that their significant others did for them. You will tell them about how you elbowed some creep on the train because he tried to grab your boob.

10. People will try to set you up with thirtyish guys, who they claim are "perfect" for you but who would make you claw your way out with your bare hands if you were trapped in an elevator with them.

11. Your married friends probably spent less than ten bucks on a scented candle for you. You will spend hundreds (or more) of dollars on presents for their engagements, weddings, baby showers, baptisms, housewarming parties, etc., etc.

12. Although thirtyish guys apparently have no qualms about going after girls who are too young for them, you are unwilling to date twentysomething guys who call you "Ma'am" (or in my case, Professor).

13. You can travel or live wherever you want, without having to appease in-laws, significant others, or children.

14. You can check out cute guys in public without feeling guilty.

15. You can watch episodes of Sex and the City and say, "Yes! That's exactly how I feel about being single, minus all the one-night stands and expensive shoes!" What's more, you can watch as many episodes as you want without being mocked or without having to forfeit the show for episodes of a wrestling match, a football game, or a cartoon featuring animated characters whose eyes are larger than their faces (seriously, some of those computer animated characters freak me OUT).

16. You don't have to have any conversations about "the relationship."

17. You can eat ice cream for dinner and not have to share it with anyone.

What about you? What do you think are some of the pros (or cons) of being married (or single)?

Side note: All jokes aside, I think that anyone who promises himself or herself to one person for the rest of their life is making a wonderful, sacred commitment, and it's one that I hope to make someday.