Your First Years of Being a Professor...What to Expect

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