academic career suicide: the third child

Am I crazy, or just happy?

Dr. Mr. Palimpsest and I are expecting our third child in May. This is neither wholly unexpected (we'd discussed the possibility), nor fully planned (I didn't expect to get pregnant when I did), but the timing works well. I'm due the first day of finals week.

My graduate adviser once told me that "everybody" understands if an academic woman wants to have one child, and two children is "normal", since that's culturally-defined as a "standard" family size. But more than that, she told me, would make it very hard to pursue an academic career. Indeed, I know only a small number of women who have managed it. (Men, particularly those with non-academic stay-at-home spouses, are another story.)

I believe the idea that "three is too many" comes partly from cultural values, particularly among middle- and upper-class white Americans, who make up the majority of academia, and who sometimes equate small family size with high moral standing. That said, I'll admit there are true challenges we face with three. Travel (to the field, to conferences, to museums, etc.) will be difficult and (possibly) prohibitively expensive. Most critically, my publication productivity takes a hit for at least one year, even two, after each baby. This is my own choice, since I spend as much time at home with a new baby as I can, but it means my ability to get tenure at a research-focused university takes a hit. I'll get tenure here, but if I moved to an R1, I would have to increase my productivity just at the time when I'm most invested in family. So, I've decided not to apply for new jobs this year. I'll stay where I am, at least for a couple years, and raise a baby.

The long and short of it: the third baby is not academic career suicide (I hope!), but probably is the death of my plans to leave the liberal arts and move toward a research position, at least for the foreseeable future. It's a trade-off I'm willing to make, especially since Dr. Mr. Palimpsest's job opportunities here are looking up, but it doesn't make me blind to the fact that it's a trade-off many academics (cough, cough - most men - cough, cough) don't need to make.

job interview stories

Check out this post by Michael Smith on "War stories from academic job interviews." Interesting stuff, and may give some hope to those of you on the market!

He categorizes his job interviews as "successful", "in good faith", and "in bad faith". The "bad faith" interviews are those where someone else was chosen for the job before you arrived.

I've had six on-campus interviews (seven if you count a short-list interview that was conducted via Skype). Only one was "successful", and I don't believe any were "in bad faith", although I knew within the first couple of hours at the last interview that I wouldn't get the job. I don't think they had someone else already lined up, per se, but it was clear they weren't interested in me. Still, they were polite and I enjoyed the experience.

As for war stories: Two of the interviews went poorly. My first interview was at a large research institution, and the department put me up in the home of the search committee chair. Exhausting! I never had a break, until she got stomach flu and ended up in the bathroom for the last 12 hours of my visit. Still, I enjoyed meeting the faculty, and overall it was a good first experience.

The other regrettable interview was at a small, poorly-ranked undergraduate school. The committee created all kinds of problems, everything from keeping me up until 1am the day I arrived (I had left my home at 5am the morning to make it to the airport on time), to changing the venue of my research talk only hours before I gave it ("Hey, why don't you give your talk to our Into to Archaeology class? I'm sure they'd love it! Can you pitch it to first-year, under-prepared undergrads?"), to forgetting to schedule lunch. When you add in the horrors of the location itself (although I was assured by the faculty that their town wasn't the meth capital of the state, that was a town down the road), I left that interview fully intending to turn down the job if offered. In fact, none of the candidates on the short list were offered/took the job, and the department hired someone much more suitable to their needs by bringing in someone who had worked in CRM in the region for decades.

I'm not on the job market this year. For reasons I'll discuss more in a later post, I just can't face the prospect of moving this summer. Plus, things are looking up for Dr. Mr. Palimpsest's employment prospects here at Tiny U. Hopefully, more on this soon!

are e-textbooks a publisher bait-and-switch?

Never change textbooks. Changing books hardly ever significantly improves your class, so pre-tenure, it just doesn't make sense to invest that level of time in something that won't pay off.

That said, last year I switched textbooks in Intro to Biological Anthropology. I had inherited the previous textbook, and I had never liked it. It was full of facts, but poor on interpretation. The book did little to help frame the class within an evolutionary paradigm, or to explain why all of the facts they threw at the students were relevant.

Despite these drawbacks, I wouldn't have changed textbooks (after all, I provide the framework in my lectures), if I hadn't wanted to save my students a lot of money. The new book came in a $35 e-text version. All of the other textbooks are at least $100.

So, last year I put the work into converting my class to the next text. This year, when it came time to order my textbook, I found that the publisher had a new edition out, and this edition does not (yet?) have an e-version. The price tag for the new edition? $130!

I don't know if this is a deliberate bait-and-switch on the publisher's part. Perhaps they will create an e-version for this textbook next year, to which my students will have access until they update again. (And gee, nothing ever happens in Bio Anth to make them want to update, right?!) Perhaps it does take more time to get an e-version on-line than to get the physical book to press, but I doubt it. The e-version was little more than PDFs of the physical book, and surely the publisher has those!

I don't have time to make any changes for next semester, especially since I'm teaching a new prep in the Spring, and re-doing the third class significantly, but after this, I'm switching to Open Source resources.

Does anyone have any suggestions where I can find good Open Source readings for Intro to Bio Anth?

perils of anthropological parenting (aka: my poor kids)

Me: Please keep your pajamas on.

Pumpkin (2 years old): Why?

Me: Because you'll get cold.

Pumpkin: Why?

Me: Because you don't have fur.

Pumpkin: Why?

Me: Because our species is adapted to a tropical climate.

Pumpkin: Why?

Me: Because we're descended from apes.

Pumpkin: Why?

Me: Because apes are restricted to tropical environments.

Pumpkin: Why?

Me: [pause] Biogeographical accident

Pumpkin: Oh.

turns out, toucans can't be trademarked!

I blogged previously about Kellogg's (of Fruit Loops cereal fame) suing the Maya Archaeology Initiative because MAI uses a toucan in their logo.

I don't know if Kellogg got better legal advise, or if the publicity over this poorly thought-out lawsuit changed their minds. But, Kellogg has not only backed away from the lawsuit, they're donating $100k to MAI to build a cultural center in the Peten, and they're going to feature major Maya accomplishments on their Fruit Loops boxes next year.

Wow, what a win!

Pat Shipman has a new blog

Pat Shipman has a new blog about human/animal relationships. Check it out.

painful truths about grad school

This post about grad school in history has been making the rounds. It basically says the same thing most of us have been saying: there are no academic jobs, current academic lottery winners won't tell you the truth, the opportunity costs are too high, etc. Still, it's a nice re-statement of the problem.

Although I believe everything stated in this blog post, I'll admit I find it hard to quash the dewy-eyed dreamers that come to my office, seeking advice about graduate school. It's hard to tell them "no", without it coming out as either "you're not good enough" (no matter how often I say that's not the case), or "it's only anthropology that's this f#@ked up" (especially since students who are given a pessimistic view of the future by me often find a more optimistic faculty member in another field, and assume that they're better off in history or sociology).

How much reality do you inflict on undergrads?