The third year of my postdoc passed quietly. Somehow, the original plan to do a two-year postdoc (and let me emphasize, it was a very concrete, inflexible plan when I started) molded into three and a half years. No job offers (or any kind of interview for that matter). No big awards. No signs to guide my way and reinforce that I was on the right track for an academic career. There were six months left on my contract, and I either needed to get some funding on my own or find a new job. It should be pointed out that 'a new job' meant a postdoc or tenure-track position, and nothing else. I had, at this point, realized that my 'career' was unsustainable, but I couldn't open my mind to the possibilities of jobs outside of academia. What did all those people do anyway?
So, I did the unthinkable. I started another postdoc. I didn't have to move; I only needed to change departments at my current institution. The new position ensured more 'applied' work and would give me exposure to a new field - one that was closer to cutting-edge science. This solved all my problems: I had another decent size contract (two years), it still paid better than those in North America, and I didn't have to move. I could continue to do the things I had been trained to do. It seemed no more decisions regarding my future needed to be made.
Just before I started the new position, all the doubts came back. Where am I going with this second postdoc? How did two years turn into six (including the new contract)? Do I keep waiting indefinitely for a professorship to open up while just scraping by and continuing to pay the absolute minimum on my mountain of student loans? I still wasn't desperate in the sense that I would consider any location for a tenure-track position.
And then it happened. The tenure-track position that I had been waiting for opened up in the city I wanted to live in. I immediately forgot all the concerns of the postdoc experience. I remembered why I got into this in the first place. At the same time, I found two other positions in cities that I didn't hate. I applied to all three.
That was six months ago. During that time, I finally (I should never use that word based on how I used it in my mind previously) figured things out. I began to consider long-term scenarios. Three large problems remained when I considered my current position:
1. Money. I hate to say it, but it is a huge factor. Much of the unhappiness in my day-to-day life stems from money (or lack thereof) issues. It was not uncommon to miss payments to credit cards and loans based on my current monthly budget. Also, if any non-budgeted expense popped up (and we all know this happens all the time) it meant that I would have trouble eating for the rest of the month, or that I would miss a payment. To add to the actual money problems, pursuing an academic career (or one that requires the education/training culminating in a Ph.D.) results in a sense of entitlement. Although I try to fight it daily, I am bombarded with thoughts like: 'I have a Ph.D. I worked hard to get here. I should be making a reasonable amount of money because I earned it by doing all this education.' These conceptions are rooted in the meritocracy of academia - if you work hard enough and do enough schooling, you will be rewarded. In total, the money situation needs to change, both by looking for other jobs that could pay more in the end, and also by getting away from thoughts of entitlement in the academic world.
2. Location. I initially thought living in another country would be a life-changing experience. This has turned out to be true. There are many things I enjoy about where I am and I am grateful for having this opportunity. However, I can't picture myself being here long-term. I don't fit in (although I am nearly certain I won't fit in anywhere). I enjoy the traditions, but they are not my own. I have explored what I can. It's a great place to be, but I never considered living here five or ten years in the future. It is not what I pictured for my life.
3. Future prospects: stability and advancement. Theoretically, provided I secure the funding, I can stay in my current institution indefinitely. But, I would never progress past a post-doctoral researcher. I would remain at the same pay grade forever, with no chance of advancement to any higher positions. Do I really want to be a permanent postdoc? It is a bit discouraging to continue to do daily work knowing that: 1) nobody really cares about your research, and 2) even if it is great work, you won't be rewarded for it (apart from the 'rewards' of the academic system - reviewing more papers, presenting at conferences, etc.) When you consider this and include the lack of stability based on available funding, the situation seems bleak.
So, I made a decision: something needs to change. It's disappointing because I truly enjoy my current postdoc work. It is more applied and has real outcomes. Day-to-day work is great. The people are outstanding. But when I think of the three points above, I remember why I need something else. To change means a new job, and because there are no tenure-track positions available (or they don't want me), that means non-academic work.
Now we reach the present month. Four weeks ago, I wrote my first resume in sixteen years, including I template for a cover letter. I started to apply to non-academic jobs, and I limited myself to positions that had a bit of a link with what I am currently doing. Over the last few weeks, the cover letter/resume has evolved considerably, and it is a bit funny to look back on my first attempts. In total, I have applied for 18 non-academic jobs, including one here (although that particular application doesn't fix problem no. 2 above).
And how are things turning out? Not so good so far, but I suppose I should be expecting that. No interviews yet, and two rejections. I am starting to wonder how much the distance factor may be affecting my applications. Why would they take the time to interview someone that has to fly in? Maybe they don't care, I am not sure. It's not like I am asking them to pay for the interview travel (although if it came up, I would definitely ask). I have realized now that in my zeal to get applications out, some of the jobs I applied to are completely uninteresting, and I would be almost relieved to hear they didn't work out. Of course, part of that is my 'comfort' in my present situation. Yes, it is not sustaining, but I know the work, I am trained for it, and I really like what I am doing. What if the next job is horrible and I hate it? The age-old 'I'll take the devil I know' conundrum is now a definite influence. It's a shame, really, that this is what sixteen years of career training has produced: a wandering postdoc, with no future prospects, aimless in a sea bereft of stellar guidance.
What about the three tenure-track positions I applied to? I ended up getting a phone interview for one. They originally wanted to do an on-site interview, but couldn't afford to fly me out (or so they say). A month or so later, they told me I wouldn't be getting another interview. The second application was quicker - I got a rejection email. And the dream job? I am still waiting...
But I have a plan. Something needs to change. If the dream tenure-track job that I applied to turns out, then great! I would be happy to keep on with what I am doing, and I also now have more knowledge about what a professor job would be like. I won't apply to any more professor jobs. This is the last one - the one I have been waiting for. Although it will hurt to move on, I am prepared (and have already started) to find employment outside academia. I am not sure what it will be, or if it will be something I want to do, but something needs to change. I now feel in control (somewhat, anyway) of what I am doing. I am not waiting for professorships or funding. I am looking for a job, plan and simple.
Wish me luck! (I am going to need it - stupid transferable skills). I'll keep posting on my search and any updates, and good luck to those with similar experiences.
Good luck! You have LOTS of transferrable skills, you will find something.
ReplyDeleteBTW - 18 only seems a like a lot, because they're hard work to do, but there is no doubt a lot more of application writing in store for you. One of these days I might count how many I did in the last three and a half months, but don't hold your breath for a number. I may just delete the whole folder and never look back! ;)
They're only job applications - not journal articles! It gets quicker and easier the more you do.
Good luck!! And I agree with WTF - you have a lot of transferrable skills. Something will work out.
ReplyDeleteWhen I first made the decision to leave last year, I did the same thing you described - applied to anything and everything, and only realized later that I was actually relieved that I hadn't gotten most of the positions because in the end, they sounded kind of awful and boring.
So don't stop researching and thinking about what you want to do in the long term. It's easy to stay in the academic mindset and to apply for every job you could reasonably qualify for (and to stick solely to jobs very closely related to academia). But it's a big wide world out there with jobs always appearing, every single week. Don't limit yourself!