Lately, as I walk through campus, I get this feeling of nostalgia back to my undergraduate days. I think to myself how nice it would have been to attend a school like Columbia. And then I catch myself and remember how naïve, how young, and how unaware I was at the age of 18. I would have slipped through the cracks. I wouldn’t have fit in, not because I wasn’t smart or capable but because I didn’t yet know how to be those things, how to inhabit the habitus of an ivy league college, and most importantly, I didn’t yet know how to advocate for myself. This is what constitutes presence, existence even, nowadays. That could mean carving out a space for yourself in higher education, or in the public sphere, in social circles, etc.
If you want to be somebody who is recognized, seen, by anybody, you need to first recognize yourself.
Family histories, personal experiences, lessons learned, ambitions are all the currency through which people can understand your worth and contribution. This is especially true in higher education, because in an institution where cultural capital is supposedly cultivated, you need to be aware of who you are and what you can contribute to that cultural capital in order to be included.
Admittedly, sometimes I think about this and feel a pang of regret, “I wish I did better. I wish I knew to do better.” And if this is what you feel sometimes too, know you’re not alone and that it is okay. Know also that this interstice, where acknowledging an emotion can easily blend into indulging an emotion, this is where we pause to reflect. This is where a quote from Maya Angelou, something I can across earlier this week, is especially poignant: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
In other words, be kind to yourself. There is nothing to be sorry about if you did your best, within your capacity. Hindsight is always 20/20, and it's anachronistic and unfair to approach a younger you with the knowledge of an older you. Now that we know better, we can do better.
I bring this up because it is academic job market season. This is unofficially my fourth(?) time ‘on’ the job market, though it’s hard to count the last couple of years with the maternity leaves and pandemics. The first time was in my last year of graduate school, as I planned to finish my PhD in the spring. I was a very, very green candidate. But I really gave it my all, and that year, I managed to get six interviews, and four campus visits, two for tenure track positions, and two for visiting positions. The stakes were high, because I gave myself a deadline. Based on my experiences, I don’t usually get things the first time around because I tend to learn things the hard way, and usually emerge better the second time around. Unfortunately, this was my mindset going into my first-ever job talk for a TT position. Maybe that was why I didn’t get that job, but also maybe, I simply did the best I could, given who I was, the circumstances at the time, and all that was left to learn. I ended up learning and growing so much in a different context. And now, I know better because I’ve passed that rung on the ladder.
Sometimes there are no shortcuts, no choice but to go through, rather than around.
This is true for any job searching venture, for any context of growth. This year, as I’m applying to jobs, I feel so fundamentally different than I did four years ago, or even last year. The stakes are high this time around too, and I’m the best candidate that I can be, given who I am now. I've also learned to view my skills and work differently, and hopefully this is something that translates in my interactions with people.
So if you’re going on the job market this year, which has in some ways really offered a comeback since the pandemic, know that your best is what counts. It takes knowing yourself and advocating for yourself to be satisfied with that.
Comentarios