End of an Era II

Posted Thu Dec 21, 2006 in University

A few weeks ago (it seems much longer than that) we were on our way home from a TxDOT meeting in Arlington, Texas. As the sun set, I pulled to the shoulder, opened the moonroof, and made a few images of the setting sun and the western sky. The sunset is a favorite thing of mine out here in west Texas and one of the things I’ll miss. I think we were near Jayton, Texas at the time.

In the first part of my story, I simply stated we are leaving Lubbock and bound for Minden, Nevada. I suppose I should tell a little bit about how I got to this place in space and time, then explain a little about what made me decide to take the job.

Lubbock has been a mix for us. We’ve been here fourteen years. Of those years, we’ve had about seven good years and seven not-so-good years.

The first five years I spent investing heavily in my university career. I typically worked 12-hour days, usually hitting the office about 0700 and not leaving until sometime around 1800, not done with work, but heading for the house. That level of commitment is required to establish oneself as a faculty member at a major university¹. There are classes to teach, research proposals to write, and research to execute (hopefully). Reports and papers have to be written as well, plus a commitment to service is part of the job. That’s just the way it is.

We were also involved in church. I played guitar and sang on the worship team and we were at church practically every time the doors were open. The kids were involved as well. Daughter helped me with the worship team. Older Son spent a lot of time with his friends there. Young Son had his group too.

When Older Son was about 17 years old, we learned of his substance-abuse problem. He should have been about to graduate from high school, but his work suffered and he wouldn’t get a job. What ensued was about five years of pure hell. The situation nearly destroyed my family and it nearly destroyed both Wife and me.

While Older Son began his long road to recovery, my clinical depression set in. About two or three years ago I was at my worst. I continued working, for the most part, but eventually took a semester off from teaching to regroup. Even while on leave I continued working on research projects — with the capable help of a very supportive research team.

Two years ago I received notice it was time for a post-tenure review. My department chair gave me the option of delaying for a year, but I decided (rightly or wrongly) to go ahead. I thought work was progressing. In fact, as I reviewed the dossier I prepared for the panel, I thought “This is pretty good work. We’ve accomplished a lot over the last five or six years.”

The review panel did not think so. It was only through the chair’s intervention that I was not put in a development program. I was devastated, of course. It’s difficult to put one’s work before a panel for critical review and have them say it doesn’t pass muster.

Still, I continued working. After a semester break, I took up the classroom again and resumed normal duties. Daughter and her family prepared to move to Alaska and that was another tough shot. However, it didn’t put me in a tailspin and I managed to cope, even with the depression. My dissatisfaction with the university and Lubbock burgeoned and I began thinking about moving on and even looked at a few jobs.

However, at my age and at my career stage, there aren’t many places to go. I didn’t want a lateral move and I didn’t believe another faculty position would be substantially different than the one I was in. (The aphorism about the devil you know applies.) I was burned out on the classroom and service activities were not fun. The only thing sustaining me was research — my research team and my graduate students.

About this time a personnel problem developed. Details are not appropriate. Suffice it to say that work became more difficult than before and my attitude suffered as a result. I found myself increasingly challenged to head for campus every morning. It was not healthy.

Moreover, and perhaps of greater importance, I longed for another place to live. I dreamed of living in or near the mountains, the ocean, or both. I vividly remembered living in Denver and the view afforded by the front range every morning. I remembered the long weekend drives in the Colorado Rockies and the times we enjoyed there as a family. Despite the difficult times we had in Denver, access to the mountains eased the struggle.

This last year my team and I were again successful in competing for research projects. We had four new projects come on-line. Suddenly I was a “hero” of the department, although nothing had really changed from the period of time before my post-tenure review debacle — the research team successfully completed work every year and the reports and publications were forthcoming. Make no mistake, a substantial portion of the credit for the work lies with the research team, not with me. The credit belongs with the team, not the individual.

I became increasingly bitter over the fact that, just a couple years before, my work was unacceptable, yet with no underlying change in the work the perceptions changed. My frustration with “the system” grew.

Then a professional position I thought was gone reopened. (The circumstances of that position will be Part III.) I was mentally and emotionally prepared for a change. Unlike the first time around, we accepted the interview trip and liked what we saw. In discussions amongst ourselves, we could see no reason to stay in Lubbock². There’s a lot of bad karma in Lubbock for us.

So, there it is³. I’ve lost the enjoyment of the classroom. (For an example see this entry. Also, my faculty evaluations came out today and they were as disappointing to read as they usually are.) I don’t really like service activities — too political and ineffectual. I don’t do enough research anymore; I’m just a facilitator⁴. I no longer desire to live in Lubbock — it’s feeling more and more big-city to me as time passes. There is much bad karma for me in Lubbock. I long for the mountains and time spent in the high, cold mountain air — and, perhaps, an opportunity to do engineering work again. There’s an old saying: “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” Regardless of the veracity of that aphorism, I think I can and I’m going to prove it.

Or I’ll prove I can only teach…

¹ Maybe this level of commitment is required for any professional position, not just a faculty position. I only know I’ve worked hard and long hours no matter where I’ve been.

² Well, Young Son dissents. He loves the place and the people in Nevada. He also has known nothing but Lubbock. So, he’s in a quandary. But, we’re confident he’ll make the switch successfully and find he enjoys the Carson Valley.

³ Well, that’s the second part of the story. There’s a third component as well that I will tell. The third component is actually much more positive than this one.

⁴ Actually, I’m more of a manager but I hate that term and I especially don’t like it applied to me!