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Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Blocking the Inner Voice in Faculty Life

I've been an assistant professor all of two months, and I love my job. I'll probably laugh at that sentence come spring semester, when I begin my 3-3 teaching load. But for now, I am happy with my courses, impressed by my students, and feel welcome within my department. In other words, I have good reason to be thankful.

This doesn't mean that there are no challenges. Each day, I learn something new, and I spend a good deal of energy simply trying to understand administrative processes and departmental history. There are other challenges as well. Psychological challenges. When I started this job, I promised not to let it rule my life. I decided that if I can't achieve some semblance of balance and be a professor, I'll find a new line of work. Achieving balance by itself requires a great deal of effort. It's not as simple as working less. And balance doesn't just mean exercising, which seems to be the "solution" proposed in many advice columns. I've been a runner for years, and hitting the pavement isn't a guaranteed ticket to emotional wellbeing.  No, achieving balance is a complicated struggle, usually waged in my mind.

I have to fight against an inner voice demanding that I give more of my time and energy to work. This inner voice, I think, is an amalgam of external messages that I internalize. Messages from my graduate school advisors about how they earned respect. Messages derived from comparing myself to colleagues. Messages about what it takes to win tenure. Messages about staying relevant and earning prestige in my discipline. The reason I fight against this inner voice is that I recognize it is at odds with my authentic self. Prior to entering academe, I cared more about differentiating myself from others than competing with them. Status was not a motivator for me, and I never would have imagined selling my soul for a lifetime job. So, I try my best to block this inner voice in order to give room for my authentic self to emerge. Here's a few illustrations of this process based upon recollections from the past two months on the job.

1. I went out of town a few weeks ago to visit my family. When I went back into the office, a colleague dropped by and asked me about my weekend. The inner voice suggested I respond as follows: "It was great, but I didn't get any work done. So, I'm stressed and will be grading all day today." I checked this impulse and instead replied: "It was great. I didn't get any work done, but it was worth it." The thing is, I would never tell a colleague to feel bad about prioritizing family over work. Why should I not apply that same value to my own life? When I block the inner voice, I make an effort to enjoy and own not working.

2. I met with my department chair recently to talk about my goals for the upcoming year. Typically, these meetings are designed to review faculty members' performance the previous year, in addition to goal-setting. Since I'm new, there was no performance to review. My chair explained that tenure criteria related to research had been changing over time. It was no longer the case that one peer-reviewed publication per year was sufficient. Her advice was to make sure I was using the time gained from my course release this semester to publish. After this meeting, the inner voice told me: "Cancel your plans to go to the wedding this month. You've got to get moving." I almost immediately went home and asked my wife if we could skip out on the wedding and visit our friends some time in the future. I pushed aside the inner voice and told myself: "You did not become a professor to live like a hermit. Structure your time in the coming weeks, meet your writing goals, and recognize that you are better at research when you feel fulfilled." I did my best to keep my writing projects moving forward, and I tried not to beat myself up when unexpected things came between me and research. As it turned out, the writing was good. Oh, and I went to that wedding. When I block the inner voice, I work at my own pace and at a higher standard.

3. Just the other day, I pulled into my driveway, turned off the car, and just sat for a minute. It wasn't a particularly taxing day. I didn't teach or attend a slew of meetings. But I was exhausted. I knew I had about 45 minutes before I needed to start dinner. I kicked off my shoes and headed toward the couch with every intention of taking a nap. As soon as I closed my eyes, the inner voice whispered: "You have 45 minutes before anyone else gets home. Look up those articles you didn't get to and start reading them." Sadly, I gave in to the inner voice in this instance. I got up, opened my laptop, and started typing the URL for the library homepage before my authentic self intervened: "You have already worked a full day, remember? You started at 8:00 this morning and worked strait through lunch. Why is this more important than giving yourself a rest?" I didn't get around to taking that nap, but I was annoyed enough with myself to learn a valuable lesson. When I block the inner voice, I recognize that I am already working hard enough.

These are just three illustrations among many. I don't always block the inner voice. Frequently, in fact, the inner voice is the only voice I hear. Nevertheless, I'm struggling--dare I say, working--to do faculty life my way. And I hope sincerely that other professors do the same. Don't talk about how busy you are. Don't complain about not working over the weekend. Don't suggest that a normal work week is insufficient.

I recognize there are factors at play here, factors seemingly beyond our control. Courses need to be taught. Committees need to be staffed. Emails need to be read. Families need to be fed. The work needs to get done. But I believe there are many moments in which we have an opportunity to make choices about the type of faculty life we want to make possible. And I think that life might be better for everyone in academe if we all block the inner voice.

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