Just this week, and at very long last, my grad program hired a
creative nonfiction professor and my feeling is one more of
deep relief than one of true jubilation. The extremely long search turned me off to the whole process and made me feel like our program was the gimp-legged
dog in the pound wanted by no one.
I realize this cynicism is partially due to the one
that got away—or maybe just the one who went away--the professor who never was. I used to think about the professorial
candidate who I had forged a relationship with during his campus visit, if only in the whirlwind kind
of way that’s never really meant to last, who had been offered the job only to immediately turn it down. I'm over it now, excited to meet our new faculty member, but it took some time. The whole academic crush metaphor is pretty played out and so I really tried avoiding equating this professional rejection with a bad break up, but
damn it if it didn’t completely feel like it.
Denial –
I got the news via e-mail—the worst way to be broken up with—and
the e-mail wasn’t even from him. It was
from the department search committee.
The only way this guy could have made this worse was if he could have
somehow figured out a way to reactivate my AIM account and instant message me
that he had declined the position. That
would have been worse.
When I read the e-mail I decided not to overreact. I chalked it up as a miscommunication. Wires getting crossed. He was probably just playing hardball with
the negotiations. He hadn’t actually declined. Hadn’t he told me how much he wanted to be
here? How much he wanted he wanted to
work with me? How much my work perfectly
meshed with his? No, he hadn’t actually
declined. Everyone else must have been mistaken.
Anger –
Who the hell did this guy think he was? Who did he think I was? I was a great grad
student. I was frick’n awesome, part of
an accomplished creative program that wasn’t the kind of program that you hit and quit. We deserve better than that. But he just waltzed in and
romanced the crap out of us, told us we were special and different than all
those other writing programs out there what just to use us as leverage for other
jobs? We had tons of candidates apply
for the position and I’m sure all of them would have killed for this
opportunity, but this guy? This guy
here, he’s somehow better than all of them?
He’s too good for us? Fuck
him. We don’t need him.
Bargaining –
Maybe it’s not too late, I had thought.
Maybe I can still win him back.
Maybe if I go to AWP, go to his panel and nonchalantly come across him
afterward—“Oh hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here at your scheduled
panel discussion, small world! Me? I’m doing great. Just great… I will give you my teaching
assistantship stipend to come back.
Would that be enough? Was it the
assistant professorship salary that detracted you? Maybe they’d be willing to give you tenure
off the bat. Missouri not your cup of
tea? Maybe they can pay for you to commute. Hate the other grad students in the
program? Maybe they can all have
unfortunate accidents.”
But after a few awkward passes across the doorway of his
panel, I chickened out and I wondered what it would take to get someone else in
there to start talking up our program.
Depression –
I don’t think he’s coming.
He’s definitely not coming. Why
doesn’t he love me the way I love him, uh, academically? What’s wrong with me? Did I come on too strong? I always come on too strong. That was such a lame joke I made on the
campus tour—"the rec center is a wreck"? Really? That's what I think a funny joke is? Well, it's a little funny--no, this why you're alone!
It's me. I suck. I'm the worst. Wherever he ends up I’m sure he’ll be happy, but me—I’ll
never have another professor like that.
Maybe I’m just not meant to.
Acceptance (finally) –
He never returned my or anyone else’s e-mails. He didn’t even return the initial job offer
e-mail. I heard he’s taken another job
on the west coast, far away from Missouri in just about every conceivable way. I know he ever wanted to come
here. I think he duped us, maybe
justifiably so as that’s the way academics work, but he definitely didn’t want
to be there and if he didn’t, it’s a good thing he isn’t. The candidate who’s accepted the position
wants to be here and I think that means something. She'll be great. Plus, I hear he’s kind of an asshole, but I
guess already knew that.
Our family always thought you were too good for him. There are other fish in the sea. Someday you'll meet a special someone and you'll wonder what you ever saw in this guy.
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