A friend of mine just found out zie was denied tenure. I'm not going to go into why, mostly because it's not my story, but partly because I think the knee-jerk reaction to such a decision is to try to figure out why it happened, which too easily turns into trying to figure out what the person in question did "wrong." Which, to me, is kind of like trying to figure out why a given person doesn't succeed on the academic job market - it turns too easily into a kind of "blame the victim" game, which mostly serves to help other people feel like they have control over the process -- that if they do everything "right," unlike those poor unsuccessful folk, they will suceed/get the job/get tenure. That in fact, the system is rational.
(This isn't to say that there aren't ever very good reasons for someone to fail on the job market/at getting tenure. But I'm more and more convinced that success at either of those is 95% context and 5% qualifications.)
But anyway, my point is that I have, on one level, a very selfish reaction to this: it brings back all the stupid feelings of losing my own job at Former College.
Which pretty much sucks rocks.
(I'll grant you it's worse for my friend, who has gone through the whole tenure track, while I only had to get through half. And if we do want to get into why, I think zie's been treated much worse than I was, although I also think there are some disturbing parallels. Nonetheless, sometimes I just wish I could wipe the slate clean and forget I ever had a career before law school.)



But if you'd never had a career before law school you wouldn't know me! Or P/H! Or ProfA! (Not to mention, well, NLLDH, who is obviously more important in this regard than any of us... *g*)
Posted by: Dr. Moonbeam | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 05:16 AM
I don't think it's selfish at all. I think that being denied tenure (or losing a job halfway through) are *traumatic events,* and it's no surprise your friend's situation would bring you back there. For academics (and many others, I imagine) losing a job is losing part of your identity... it's a grieving process.
You know this, but I just want to say: be gentle with yourself when you think about how you "should" be reacting to your friend's news. You lost something important. You're grieving it. And while it sucks rocks (big time), it's not "selfish" to be doing that at all.
{{NK}}
Posted by: maggiemay | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 05:35 AM
I don't know how this *could fail* to bring back your own experiences!
I think that you are probably right about context making a big difference in job searches and tenure decisions--that's what "good fit" means to a certain extent I guess. But that doesn't lessen the pain one iota when things don't work out.
Posted by: Rev Dr Mom | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 07:42 AM
Once again, I'm struck by how much my academic peers can be bastards. I can't imagine letting someone go up for tenure without giving them a very clear idea about their likelihood to succeed or fail. But, then, I've also noted the occasional intervention of academic administrators to deny tenure against the T&P committee's advice: is it penny-pinching, vendettas or something else? What's worse is that it turns the whole exercise into a crapshoot and demonizes candidates.
Posted by: Janice | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 08:06 AM
I'm sorry to hear about your friend--and to hear that it's bringing back memories of your own situation. But that's so understandable! How could you not react this way...? I realize that you don't know yet how the whole law school thing will turn out, but you deserve a *lot* of credit for moving ahead like you have. And at least you're living in the same city as NLLDH (not sure if I got those initials right?) and will ultimately have a lot more control over so many aspects of your career than you did before. I love my job (as a humanities prof), but honestly, there are a lot of things about life in the acadamy that really suck (as you know!)
Anyway, take care...
Posted by: helenesch | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 05:32 PM
"...that if they do everything "right," unlike those poor unsuccessful folk, they will suceed/get the job/get tenure. That in fact, the system is rational."
This is my biggest fear, as a graduate student. Do I pursue the phD after my MA, despite the repeating reports of crappy academic job market/job scene? Should I really have the arrogance to figure it's going to be different with me? It's like trying to tell me, in high school, NOT to date the guy who everyone knows is a jerk--it's not going to be different with me.
So, what's the alternative? I could just move on and away from lit phd dreams, cut to the chase and go to law school after which, it is likely (more likely than with a Lit phD, at least), I will employable in many contexts.
Posted by: I got an "A" in Crazy Beeyotch | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 06:58 PM
So, more evidence you're still an empathetic human _in spite of_ having once been in the ivory tower.
Posted by: Kelly in Kansas | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 06:58 PM
What Janice said. And, oh yeah, New Kid: your friendship will be especially important to this friend, because you are no longer invested in the notion that anyone denied tenure must have done something wrong, or in the fantasy that tenure candidates have complete control over their fates. Whereas your (mutual) friends who are in tenured or tenure-track jobs still probably need to believe in the fantasy of control.
Posted by: Historiann | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 10:09 PM
I've been away too long. I'm sorry to hear about your friend's situation. I'm on pins and needles myself. One likes to think that, with five positive preliminary reviews already, one is "safe," but it just ain't so.
I like what you have to say about trying to figure it out as a way of insulating oneself: "But surely that will never happen to *me.*" I like to think that if my decision comes back negative next week, I'll be able to either a) handle it with grace; or b) fight. But I think I'd probably blame myself, which is what we're wired to do in this game, even if the vagaries of the job market should have taught us better.
Posted by: Notorious Ph.D. | Monday, February 02, 2009 at 11:37 PM
I think it was about 5 years before I mostly got over the trauma of being denied tenure, so what Maggie said. (Actually, scratch that. I can still go back there very easily.) And your analysis is very accurate -- we have this great fantasy that it's all merit, and there are no screwed up people in the academic world.
But Historiann is right: as you know, it's the other people who've been through it who help you get through. Amazing the folks who have been denied tenure. And you can hang in and maybe find another job, or as you have done, decide that there is something else for you.
Posted by: Susan | Tuesday, February 03, 2009 at 12:20 AM
I'm in the process of being denied for tenure now, and I really appreciate the thoughtfulness you bring to your friend's situation. It's a good reminder to me that the decision is not a reflection of my inherehnt worth. The profession as a whole has way too many unhealthy and harsh aspects, and while it might sound like sour grapes, I'm glad to be getting out now to find something more fulfilling, despite what feels to me like a major failure.
Academics are often far too socialized to try to win approval in a game where rejections must happen, for many different reasons, that it's all too easy to find fault with the person denied rather than to recognize the nature of the system. I won't call it a con game, but there's something deeply messed up about a system that gives prizes to only a very few, and wants the losers to think it can be due to nothing but their own unworthiness.
How could you not think of your own situation? Not only does getting fired totally suck, but the degree of personal validation so many academics place in getting and keeping a job intensifies an already difficult event. Give yourself some credit for having the perspective that you do on the process and not joining the blame party.
Posted by: Rosemary | Wednesday, February 04, 2009 at 06:30 PM