This month, Broadly Textual is proud to welcome back two outstanding graduates from the English Graduate program at Syracuse University (and previous contributors to the blog), Dr. Staci Stutsman and Dr. Melissa Welshans. Each week in March, our returning contributors will discuss their experiences within their PhD program, the skills they gained during their studies, and how they utilize those skills in their current careers outside of the traditional tenure-track professorship track.
Read last week’s post from Staci.
I begin this blog post with the title “We’re All Smart Enough” because, as has at least been part of my experience of graduate education, there is a perception that only the best and brightest get the coveted tenure track job in higher education. But I’m here to tell you—if you’re in a PhD program, you are one of the best and the brightest. You ARE smart enough. And deciding that you do not enjoy parts of the work, or do not want to make certain lifestyle choices to try and get that tenure track job, has nothing to do with intelligence.
This was my struggle. Due to my own insecurities regarding my intelligence (hello Imposter Syndrome!) I was convinced for many years of my graduate program that my self-worth was tied to my intellect, and that my intellect was only demonstrable by publishing, graduating, AND landing a tenure track job. My sense of self-worth ebbed and flowed with my successes. Rejected from a journal? I’m an imposter. Accepted into a conference? Maybe I’m ok at this.
The cycle went on, and eventually was exacerbated by the emotional roller coaster that is the tenure track job search. Request for materials? Maybe I’m good enough! Rejected by my “dream job”? Utter failure. While a great deal of therapy, anxiety medication, helpful mentors, and the support of family and friends helped to mitigate these emotional trials, I too—like Staci wrote the last two weeks—hardly stopped to think if maybe this wasn’t the best career for me.
The constant bright spot in my education, however, was teaching. I loved walking into a classroom, meeting new students, and working with them to understand complex texts. Even on its worst days, teaching was a part of graduate school that did not cause me existential angst. I was good at it AND I enjoyed it.
Truth be told, I entered graduate school mostly because I wanted to teach college students. I had decided in 11th grade that I would get a PhD because although I loved helping my peers and those younger than myself understand concepts in our coursework, I loathed high school; why would I condemn myself to a career where I would spend my days there?! The solution? Teach at a college!
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I measured my worth against my publication record. In my estimation (and in that of professional standards) I was always found wanting.
But as I quickly realized, being a tenure track professor is far more than teaching. It’s research—publications, conference presentations, and research grants—that universities (i.e. university administrators) value, and it’s also these things that place you above the pack while on the job market regardless of the school that is hiring. And frankly, those were the activities that I enjoyed the least. Don’t get me wrong—I like researching and discovering new ways to interpret literature. But the angst I felt when it came time to present a published argument about those discoveries was anything but healthy. I measured my worth against my publication record. In my estimation (and in that of professional standards) I was always found wanting.
The spring before I was set to defend my dissertation, I was pregnant, coming off of another unsuccessful year on the job market, and beginning to do the IMPORTANT work that I should have done much earlier: I was beginning to ask myself whether or not a tenure track job was right for me, and if I wanted to do what was necessary to eventually get a tenure track job. By this time I had successfully published a journal article, a book chapter, and had attended many conferences and workshops, yet still felt immense anxiety and pressure surrounding my research. I was also mere months away from defending my dissertation. So why did it all still make me feel terrible?
One March day, an advertisement for a high school American Literature teacher at a local Independent School came across the graduate student listserv. The product of a rural, public education system myself, I was unaware of “Independent” schools. As I soon learned, Independent schools are those which are run independently by a board of trustees rather than, say, a church diocese or other not-for-profit company.
I did some more research on this (and other Independent) schools and I began to wonder…what if I COULD have a job where my sole focus would be students? What if I COULD compete in a job search where the strength of my teaching portfolio DID make me competitive? Could I teach high school???
Through happenstance, the Head of the Upper School at this institution had been my colleague in Syracuse’s Graduate Student Organization (like Staci wrote—networking!). I reached out to him about applying and eventually was even asked to participate in an on-campus interview—my first EVER. The energy and joy I felt while preparing for my interview was greater than I had ever experienced in three years of searching for a tenure track job in higher education. I did not get the job, but the interview process was enlightening—I had found an educational setting that truly spoke to my own strengths as a professional.
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It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders as a new career path opened up before me. I would not have to publish or perish.
After this experience, my attitude started to shift. Maybe it wasn’t that I was not good enough or smart enough. Maybe I just did not like the pressure of publishing. Maybe I just would prefer to do other things. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders as a new career path opened up before me. I would not have to publish or perish (a cynical but true turn of phrase among tenure-track faculty hopefuls).
I continued to mull over this new career option as I worked furiously to complete my dissertation and prepared for my daughter’s arrival. I had not yet written academia completely out of my future.
Then, a mere 4 weeks after my daughter was born, I received a phone call: my dad had been killed in an accident on our family farm in Northern Pennsylvania. He was 54. I put my defense on hold as I went to PA to bury the man I had looked up to my whole life, and the person I was most excited for my daughter to know. I grew up on a dairy farm that my family had owned since the 1800s, and in the months after his death, I watched as my amazing step mom dealt with not only incredible grief, but the trials of selling cattle and equipment.
I finished the dissertation. I defended it successfully. But I now had a completely new perspective on what I wanted to prioritize in my life—the life I now knew not to take for granted. And for me, my new priority was choosing a job that would allow me to be geographically close to my family in Pennsylvania, and that would provide me with a lifestyle that enabled me to spend more time (and enjoy that time) with those I love. In the end, it made it easy to walk away from my “dream” of a tenure track academic job, because dreams change. Life changes. That’s ok. And we’re all smart enough.
Thanks for reading! Tune in next week as I discuss what I’ve done post PhD to position myself for a search on the Independent School job market!
Melissa Welshans has a BA in English with Honors from George Mason University (2007) and a PhD in English with an emphasis on Renaissance literature from Syracuse University (2017). She is currently a Part Time Instructor at Syracuse University and a substitute teacher for a variety of school districts in the Syracuse area.