Generations on the Job Market

A generation in the Hebrew Bible is forty years. A generation for iPods is about a year. A generation for someone with a PhD is about 4 years.

I come up with that number because that is about the how long it takes before the current grad students don’t know the incoming grad students because they aren’t in courses with them anymore. For some, that is how long it takes to get done with your dissertation. Once you get that first job that is exactly how long it takes to move your young freshman from orientation to graduation.

I have spent about 3 generations on the job market. In Fall of 1998, I started teaching as an adjunct professor at the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. It was about that time I began combing the internet for any institution, anywhere that might have a full time position who might hire someone who was All But Dissertation (never mind that I wasn’t ABD at that point—but hey you had to dream).

Back then, I was pretty convinced I could do anything. “Gen Ed Interdisciplinary Core with an Area of Competency in Asian Religions?” Sure, I had a course in Asian Religions, I can do that! “Hebrew Bible with an Area of Competency in Rabbinic Judaism?” Sure, I can do that . . . maybe. “Women and under represented groups encouraged to apply” Well, maybe I can’t do EVERYTHING.

Of course, over time I got more realistic with my application packets, more accepting of my ding letters and absolutely ritualistic checking the openings websites. For years, the “Openings” website would update the first of every month. I stayed up till midnight at the end of many months waiting for the openings to click over, only to see one (maybe two) Hebrew Bible postings in the United States (and one in Germany). Of course, I received many, many, MANY ding letters:

“We thank you for your interest in the servile, low-paying position at Hole in the Wall Community College, Fairbanks, Alaska. We had many qualified candidates and have narrowed the list and you aren’t among the finalists.”

When I finally got the job at Shorter, I knew the time was coming when I wouldn’t be welcome there. Many of us assumed it would be a one year posting. We were afraid the Georgia Baptists would come in with guns blazing and clean house in the Religion department. Thankfully, they took their time. It was 5 years before I was told my presence would no longer be welcome in the classroom.

Everyday for five years, I came into work. I turned on my computer. I opened the “Openings” web pages: Chronicle of Higher Education, Society of Biblical Literature, Inside Higher Ed, etc. Every now and then an opening would be interesting. Every now and then I would get an interview. Every now and then it would come down to me and one other candidate . . . and the school would go with the other candidate.

Every day. Every morning. It was more than habit—it was liturgy—it was an act of prayer. It was how I maintained some measure of hope. I tried to be present in my present, but in my heart I was looking for a place where I felt there could be a future.

Next week, I am going to the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature. For twelve years, I have gone to this meeting looking for a job. This year I am not. It has been a weird experience. This is what it is like to be content? This is what it is like to not be looking every day for an opening?

I walked across the Judson University campus on this absolutely beautiful fall day, and a smile came across my face. Yes, it is a different world than I have known, but I think I can get used to this.