YOUR
FIRST YEARS OF BEING A PROFESSOR…WHAT TO EXPECT
Back in 1973, I was a newly minted Ph.D. coming out of a public school
background. I was thirty-one years old,
had a wife, and five-year-old twin daughters.
Never in a gazillion years did I think we would be moving to RI. I had visited the littlest State in the Union
in 1966 and found it “quaint.” I
remember taking the Newport ferry between Goat Island and Jamestown. The Pell Bridge hadn’t been constructed
then. (Lesson #1 – Life will take you
places you never imagine.)
I arrived for the interview on a miserable day. Maybe I should mention that enroute between
Syracuse and Providence, the twin-engine Convair 580 prop job I was flying in
lost one of its engines over Hartford.
It was about 10:00 PM in the evening.
I was a pilot at the time and I could feel the airplane yaw slightly as
the pilot feathered the left-engine prop.
I knew something was up. I always
try to sit over the wing on the left side of the plane. As I looked out the window, I could see the
feathered prop standing perfectly still.
I’ll dispense with the drama only to say the entire Bradley Field fire
and rescue squads greeted us with flashing lights on touchdown. (Lesson #2 – Life hangs but by a thread.)
But, back to the interview…
I was greeted the next morning by Dr. Bill Oehlkers. Unknown at the time, Bill would become one of
my closest confidants over the next three decades. Bill drove me through the inner city of
Providence and the rain poured down as the wipers slapped from side to
side. “Why would I ever want to live in
this place?” was what was flashing through my mind.
Once we hit the RIC campus, however, things changed. At the time, the Elementary Education
Department was growing and many, if not most, of the professors were recent
hires from major Midwest universities.
Illinois, Michigan, Ohio, and Wisconsin were well represented. It was like old-home week for this Wisconsin
boy. By the end of the day, I knew that
I would find a home here in RI even though I had entertained offers from other
places. My starting salary was $12,500
if I remember correctly. (Lesson #3 –
Keep an open mind. You never know what
may pop up around the next corner.)
Once I signed my contract, my plan was to remain at RIC for three
years, then move to northern California for another three-year stint, and
finally, move back to Wisconsin where I would finish my career. Now, almost 40 years later, I’m still
here. (Lesson #4 – Even the best-laid
plans sometimes don’t work out the way you’ve planned.)
Before leaving for RI, my major professor at the University of
Wisconsin offered me some good advice over a beer at the local
rathskellar. “Work so hard, they can’t
afford not to promote you,” he admonished.
I took his advice to heart; after all, he was a former Marine Corp drill
sergeant. What he was really trying to say
is you’ve got to publish if you want to get promoted. I started out by co-authoring a first book
with him and another recent Ph.D. graduate.
Then I teamed up with my friend, Bill Oehlkers and we produced what I
thought was a pretty good diagnosis of reading difficulties book. Once that one was in press, I struck out on
my own to do a paperback on how microcomputers could be used to help teachers
teach reading. Without checking back to
my vita, I would guess that the three books were all done within a ten-year
time span…maybe less. My major professor
was right. The publications helped. I was promoted to full professor “ahead of
schedule.” Interspersed with the books
were journal articles and presentations at professional conferences. One of the main reasons I wanted to get
promoted was to get a jump in salary. And,
it worked…to some degree. There was a
downside to productivity schedule, though.
It meant getting up at 5:00 AM every morning and writing before everyone
else arose. It meant late nights in my
tiny home office drafting and editing chapter after chapter. Weekends were more of the same. I probably missed out on some quality time
with my family although, at the time, it was the price to be paid for owning a
home and making repeated trips back to the Midwest to see the kid’s
grandparents. (Lesson #5 – Every choice
you make as a professor has a price/consequence.)
Lest this entry turns into a personal history, let me bend the curve
and transition into some practical advice.
The expectation at colleges like RIC is faculties are to serve on
departmental, school, State, and National committees. Furthermore, you are expected to publish in
journals respected in your field of endeavor.
You are expected to provide “community service.” Don’t forget the requirement to present
papers and/or attend professional conferences.
Finally, you are to be a stellar teacher. Here’s my advice. You can’t do all of this every semester! As a new faculty member, you’ll have your
hands full just keeping ahead of your students.
People don’t realize how challenging it is to prepare an entire semester
of content. And, that’s just for one
course. At RIC and other similar
institutions, you are expected to do it for three or four courses. I’m talking about high-quality interactive
learning between professor and students, not the mind-dulling PowerPoint
presentations (or as I like to call it, Power Pointless) I frequently see as I
walk by open classroom doors. (A
deceased principal friend of mine used to describe those lessons just like
ditto sheets... dull, dry, and deadly.)
Even in my first year, I found that much of committee work to be turf
battles that accomplish little. I’m reminded
of a Democratic President with a Republican congress. Or, visa versa. The discussions and battles that ensue could
usually be eliminated if everyone came in with the idea that there’s a job to
be done. Let’s just “getter done” as a
Midwestern farmer might say. Instead,
petty bickering and fragile egos needing to be soothed end up being the
primarily accomplishment. As a wag once
commented; the reason the battles are so great is that the stakes are so
small. (Lesson #6 – Celebrate small
victories.)
As far as community service goes, I’ve given up trying to be remunerated
for speaking to school kids or organizations.
The same goes for serving on panels, advisory groups, etc. Most of these organizations don’t have much
money to begin with. Instead, think of
your helping hand as a way to make contacts, meet new friends, learn something
new, and enjoy experience for what it is…a donation to better mankind.
About publishing. Don’t expect
to make any money by being a textbook author.
You are much like the kid from the Dominican Republic who dreams of
becoming a major league baseball star.
The same goes for inner-city hoop stars that think they’ll someday be in
the National Basketball Association. The
truth is, the textbook publishing business is ruthless. Few rise to the top. Those that do, make some money. Everyone else makes enough to take a weekend
vacation with their royalties. When I
was under contract to write my sole authorship book, I happened to bump into a
friend who was a professor in Pennsylvania.
In our discussions, we learned that we were BOTH under contract to the
SAME publishing company for the SAME TYPE of book. Unknown to us, our editor was going to float
both books on the market and see which survived. It’s survival of the fittest out there, my
friend. Having said that, my total
royalties did pay for a few “toys” along the way. They also helped meet some of our household
remodeling bills. Oh, by the way…my
first royalty check was for slightly over $2.00! I didn’t cash it. I wanted to save it as evidence. (Lesson #7 – Don’t expect to become a
millionaire on your royalty checks.)
Professional Conferences. This
could be a blog unto itself. Instead,
I’ll just highlight the reasons people go to conferences. The first is to dress up and go out to
eat. This is especially true in places
like New Orleans or San Francisco.
People think it’s so cool to return home and tell about the wonderful
meal they had at the XYZ. The
cheapskates usually hit all the banquets and cocktail parties put on by
publishers. Burp! A second reason professors go to conferences
is to drink and raise hell. I’ve seen
some pretty bizarre behavior on the part of old friends who get together and
run in packs once they arrive at a conference.
Carried to extreme, these annual outings end up in a destructive
spiral. A third reason people attend
conferences is to actually go to the sessions.
They want to “touch the flowing garment” of some notable in the
field. I’ve always felt you could get
more information by reading the expert’s writing than sitting listening to some
ideologue drown on and on. A fourth
reason people attend conferences is to actually present a paper. My experience in this realm is that you spend
so much time actually preparing to do your presentation that you can’t enjoy
the rest of the conference. Then there
are “the collectors.” The Reading
profession has an inordinate number of these people. They prowl the exhibits and try to collect as
many free samples as they can. They
return home with reams of useless brochures that quickly go into the recycle
bin. As a young professor, though, you’ve
got to figure out a way to get on the program.
It doesn’t matter what you do.
You simply need to rack up that presentation so it can be added to your
resume. Whatever else you decide to do
at the conference is your own business.
Just remember, it doesn’t have to be a single choice!
I’ve gone on too long. So,
here’s one last piece of advice for when you return to campus. Respect your students. Be firm.
Be fair. Don’t be arbitrary. We all like consistency in our lives. It’s better to be an average professor who is
well planned and methodical than a brilliant egghead who continually changes
course requirements and expectations.
The latter drives students crazy.
Enough for today.
January 25, 2012
