Last week, I was called into my supervisor's office for what I thought was a routine meeting. As it turned out, the purpose of the meeting was to inform me that I had made a serious mistake, one that put the office at risk. I work as a graduate assistant (for a few more months) in the office of the provost, and my supervisor is an associate provost. Consequently, I am privy to many conversations about university politics. These conversations colored my views on a piece of senate legislation that many central administrators opposed. During the senate meeting in which the legislation was considered, I stood up and fired off a less than thoughtful comment. Although I am an elected senator for my college and, therefore, had every right to speak, it was clear to many individuals present that I overstepped conventions of discretion and capitalized upon insider's knowledge.
I was horrified, to put it lightly. For one thing, I care deeply about my work as a higher education professional. More importantly, I am fiercely loyal to my office, which helped nurture me as a graduate student and, in many ways, facilitated data collection for my dissertation. To think that I had made their jobs more difficult because I couldn't keep my mouth shut was disturbing. My supervisor did not scold me. Rather, as a fellow academic, he warned me to tread lightly in my next role as assistant professor. In his words, my decision to stand and say something left me exposed, and exposure is not always a good thing as a young scholar. He would never advocate that I simply keep my head down and concentrate on my own work. His message centered upon being selective about the battles I fight moving forward and realizing the sheer political dimensions of the profession. I appreciated his developmental approach, but could not help but feel like I let one of my mentors down.
Over the next few days, this idea of exposure as a young scholar haunted me. Meeting with my supervisor coincided with another event about which I recently wrote, another event where keeping my mouth shut proved to be no small order. I wondered if newly minted PhDs starting faculty jobs should be wary of public engagement--of circulating their opinions too widely--for fear of the possible repercussions. Should I focus upon traditional metrics of success in academe, such publishing articles, teaching solid courses, and serving on a conference committee? Should I stick to less controversial topics when it comes to research? Should I give up on a blog for now, or keep my tweets rather vanilla? In other words, should public engagement for a young scholar be much more strategic, guarded, or even diluted? I sense that the answer to these questions are not easy and probably vary.
Some seasoned academics say that, as a young scholar, my job isn't to take part in any battles. I shouldn't devote much time to university politics, and fiery blog posts should not be a high priority. My job is to do what is necessary to get tenure, then I can do engagement and maybe ruffle a few feathers. Others might argue that I stay true to myself and not surrender my voice simply to avoid the risks of exposure. Far too few academics, they might say, are willing to put their neck on the line out of fear. And then there are those who say, by all means, be publicly engaged, but recognize that not all forms of engagement are valued and some forms might not help your career much.
I would love to hear from others who have navigated these waters. There is a recent emphasis, one with which I generally agree, on scholars having a public presence through social media and other platforms. Sometimes it feels like you can't be a legitimate scholar and not have a blog, Twitter handle, and personal website. Nevertheless, it isn't yet clear to me whether such a public presence is advisable for those of us just starting our careers. And I'm not convinced I've been adequately prepared for the gray areas that accompany exposure and public engagement. The game of being a young scholar seems much more difficult for my generation than it was for the people who trained us for this line of work.
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