It’s kind of a clusterf*ck isn’t it? A crapshoot, a messy affair, a disorganized, archaic, completely in-line with academic processes affair.

First, there’s the fact that the jobs get posted a year in advance, so PhD students are applying for positions by hyping up their dissertations before the dissertations are actually finished. If this goes well, they may give job talks about aspects of their work, which seems slightly bizarre since, again, the dissertations aren’t quite all done, yet, so preparing and writing about them takes away from actually finishing them.

Second, though I say the jobs are all posted a year in advance, it’s actually much more messy than that. Some places post in August, some in October, job postings just keep trickling in. It’s almost February, and I’m still applying to new postings. This causes all sorts of anxiety. What if a place wants to interview me or, worse, wants me to make a decision before I hear back from another place? The reaction I tend to get is, “eh. That’s how it is.” Why are we settling for this?? We live in an age where simple technological tools could be used to streamline and aggregate large chunks of data. There ought to be a better way for jobs to get announced.

Third, some postings are formalities. The search committee already knows who they’re going to hire. What a waste of time for people thinking they have a chance.

Fourth, some postings are canceled a few weeks or months later. Budget cuts suck.

Fifth, not all the apps want the same things. Well, this is fine since I’m tailoring each letter anyway, but sometimes vague terms are used for what the app materials include. What’s the difference between “evidence of teaching effectiveness” and a “teaching statement?”

Sixth, letters of recommendation are bizarre things, too. Two of my letter writers asked me to write the first draft of the letter. Presumably they go in and add their tweaks, etc. but damn.. it is odd writing about yourself pretending to be your prof, made more complicated when the prof has an existing relationship with whomever is on the search committee. Do I write in a formal voice or be slightly less formal than usual since they know each other?

Seventh, oh my god, I pity anyone who is also applying to non-academic jobs. I recently applied to a job at Google and I *think* my apps were okay, but I’m so embedded in academia, it’s hard for me to judge whether the cover letter or resume was appropriate.

Eighth, though I prob should have made this the first thing, there’s no one place where jobs get posted. I basically have five different sources: The Chronicle of Higher Ed, Higher Ed Jobs, and three mailing lists. Hearing about post-doc positions is even worse.

Ninth, not all places let you know your status in the process. I got a rejection letter from one place, a rejection email from another, a rejection by word of mouth rumor from yet another. I was told I was on the short list at one place months ago and nothing since then. It’s all sort of varied. I assume I was rejected by other places and maybe am in the running for others that I just don’t know about.

Lastly, all this obfuscation is made worse when you consider that many places are still influenced heavily by sponsorship and social networks. Who you know and how well you can get in people’s faces matters a hell of a lot.

As I walk pass the bicycles locked near the law building, I keep a look out for a hybrid with a suspension stem. My old bike before moving up to Seattle for graduate school (back in 2003) had the same suspension stem, and it was of note because they’re pretty rare. The bike I remember was the one I used while bicycling across the country 10 years ago with my brother. (I plan on republishing our blog with commentary over this summer so that each entry from our bike trip is posted exactly 10 years later.) I put it together myself, bought all the components separately, etc. Alas, that bike got stolen about two weeks before we moved up here. 🙁

When I first started school again, I took a class in museology at the Burke Museum. On the way back from there to Miller Hall, where the college of ed lives, is the then new law building and the then new bike racks. That first year, that bike with the suspension stem was always there. I don’t really expect to see it ever again, but… every time I walk past those racks, I look for that bike and wonder who the owner was.