I Encourage You to Apply
“Did you hear about the open position?”
She approached me more eagerly than I was ready for in between morning classes in the faculty lounge. I had maybe a handful of conversations with this assistant professor in my department. I was a first-year adjunct and certainly grateful she was (1) acknowledging my existence and (2) talking to me about a more permanent job.
I said I had, and she followed up with whether or not I applied. I immediately started spilling out all the reasons why I didn’t. She shook off every one and said, “Doesn’t matter. Just go for it.”
So I did. And I didn’t even make it past the first round. I spoke to a search committee member later who audibly chuckled at how unqualified I was for the job.
This wasn’t the last time this happened by the way. When the person they offered the job to turned them down, I applied again the following year (and again at the urging of other faculty). I got to the final four but was rejected. Some people call this progress but the heartache and gray hair I earned from this speaks otherwise.
During my two years on the academic job market, I applied to a lot of positions. Some cold from ads online, some with referrals from friends of friends, and a few (like the ones above) where I thought I had a bonafide in. I remember constant networking (an introvert’s nightmare), chasing any and all leads, and many late nights duplicating my entire work history into an unforgiving online form. I remember checking up on the status of my application with every admin assistant, HR rep, and search committee chair. One highlight I remember fondly is calling a school and the woman literally laughing at me, saying, “That job was filled weeks ago.”
It was, without a doubt, the most soul-crushing season of my life.
But, like all trauma, I learned a few things.
What You’re Told to Do
I had an old boss who used to talk about throwing enough stuff against the wall until something sticks. Another mentor told me all the time, “Don’t reject yourself before you even try.” I know these are collectively some people’s strategy when it comes to applying. Follow up on every lead. Entertain every reference. Apply to all the jobs.
Advice like this is how you have candidates trading war stories of applying to hundreds of jobs per cycle. They’re usually burnt out, on edge, and utterly defeated. “Demoralizing” is the word I see most often.
At the same time, job market “experts” talk about the need for you to tailor all your job materials to the position. So you’re not just pumping out generic cover letters with a “Dear Sir or Madam” salutation. You basically have to know the intricacies of the entire department and the Chair’s go-to Starbucks order to show your pre-commitment to the university.
Did I forget to mention that the list of desired job materials seems to get longer and longer every cycle? You don’t have to dig through Twitter much to find the running over-the-top gag about positions requiring a CV, cover letter, diversity statement, teaching philosophy, unofficial transcripts starting with kindergarten, three sample syllabi, and a pint of blood.
Let’s recap. So that’s an excessively lengthy application process that must be tailor-made to the position and school paired with the need to apply to anything and everything you’re even remotely qualified for.
You see how none of these things can co-exist easily, right?
What You Probably Need to Do
Most academic job market blog posts, LinkedIn messages, and Twitter threads will tell you all the things you need to do. I’m here to tell you one important thing not to do. Or rather, consider this a permission slip to ignore one prevalent piece of advice.
You don’t have to apply to everything.
You really don’t.
Not if it’s costing you your sanity. Not if the rejection is so steady and inhumane that it’s making you question your self-worth. Not if the hurdles are unnecessarily high and based on exclusionary practices (which are likely an indicator of what it will be like working there).
A Few Ways to Trim Down Potential Jobs
Don’t apply to jobs in places where you don’t want to live. I’ve been shamed for having standards about my place of residence. Apparently, you just have to accept whatever school will take you even if you’re thousands of miles away from your support system and you’re the first person of color they’ve seen outside of TV. But that’s academia’s rule. It doesn’t have to be yours. Pick regions where you can realistically see yourself (and your family, if that applies).
Figure out the difference between courses you can teach and courses you have taught. I remember getting rejected from a Communication position because, while I had the qualifications to teach the courses that they desired, I had not actually taught those courses before. Some schools value demonstrable experience over capability. The degree, the workplace experience, and the similar courses apparently did not make me qualified to teach an intro class on the subject. That doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m not on the search committee. And it’s impossible to be certain about what they will consider. So just know that if the courses they list aren’t on your CV, you may have an uphill climb. Decide ahead of time whether or not that’s a trip you want to take.
Knowing an assistant professor in the department is not the same advantage as knowing someone on the search committee. So many dashed dreams lay in putting your confidence in the vouching of another faculty member. Yes, they got a job there. They made it through the gauntlet alive. They know the school culture and can help you sound like an insider on your job application. But if they’re not an actual decision-maker, temper your expectations. Your friend has no say in who makes it to the campus visit. At best, post-interview they can garner some gossip and tell you why you didn’t make the cut. Otherwise, they’re support. Wonderful support, yes, but just support.
Don’t apply to jobs with unreasonable requirements. Universities are taking full advantage of the glut of PhDs and the oversaturated job market by making it difficult to apply. I get it. If you had 500 applicants, you’d probably be wishing for some restrictions that sift through all the CVs and do the work for you. However, from a potential candidate’s perspective, some of these tactics are unnecessary and downright ludicrous. No adjunct position should require sample syllabi. While it’s hella common, freshly written recommendation letters at any point before the campus visit interview are a waste of everyone’s time. There’s more and you have to judge what your limit is. So take a hard read at all the application requirements, look at the job, and determine if it’s worth it.
A Final Thought
Despite what academia believes about anyone off the tenure track, your time is valuable! The care and detail that you put into your job materials come from the wealth of expertise you have as a professional. Aim that at positions and schools that are worthy of you.
And I can’t leave without adding this: you may find that academia doesn’t deserve you and you’ll find your place elsewhere. That’s good too. Give those non-academic jobs a chance. They ask for way less of you in the application process and you have a unique edge as a certified expert in your field.
