Keeping Bridges

One recent astute observation from my father-in-law accosts me. My in-laws are visiting us this week. I had mentioned that I hadn't decided on whether to prepare the abstract for the book chapter I'd tentatively agreed to write. He said simply: well, it's always good to keep bridges open.

Indeed.

I've recently been urging Rocket to be accepting of all her selves, to listen to them, not too hastily reject one for another. It is complexity that makes us whole. Who really plays one role in life?

And so, I think of Trillwing's hyphenation. It's funny what listening to our advice to others can do. Right now, as I shrug off the vestment of the seeker of a professorship, it is not always easy to see without bias, to accept without acrimony, that I still do love the academy, that scholarship is a true part of my being.

I am disappointed, yes. But then, I am sometimes disappointed with my children. That does nothing to diminish my love for them. [How odd to pose myself now as parent to the academy, I who have ever been its child, lavishing in its warmth (even when that "warmth" has proven bitter cold)]. Who among us plays one role?

I think of a line from one of my mother's (rare) poems ... and the parents now appear as children...

I do pass into the next chapter of my life, but (like Kundera perhaps) I shall weave an essence through it all that binds one to the other.

I grieve

I grieve for the prospects of peace and democracy in my world. I grieve for the chances of the next generation to rise above the violence and destruction that are visited upon this planet right now.

Benazir Bhutto was assassinated today.

***Updated to say***

Pakistan blames "al-Qaeda". Oh yeah... and we of course should always trust our "good friends" and "allies"... you know the ones who sold nuclear secrets to Iran, North Korea, and Libya, especially the undemocratically elected seized "President" who immediately pardoned the scapegoat nuclear scientist A.Q. Khan...

Yes, of course, we should always trust the word of tyrants and dictators, especially when we are motivated like our "dear leader" George Bush to "spread democracy around the world."

Please! Let leadership and sanity return to my world!

Baked Mango Chicken with Rice

This experiment turned out well, so I thought I'd share it.

• 1 cup (uncooked) rice (I opted for Vietnamese red rice).
• 2 cups chicken stock
• 2-3 cups water
  
• one medium onion, slivered
  
• one whole mango, diced
• 1 large (or 2 medium) carrot(s), coarsely chopped
• 4 chicken thighs (about 1 pound)
• Seasoning to taste (I used salt, pepper, and paprika)

Preheat oven to 350F. Spread rice along bottom of a 9 x 13" roasting pan. Pour in stock and water. Set on stove top over high heat to bring just to a boil. Meanwhile saute onions in a little olive oil (or butter). Add to rice mixture. Prepare mango and carrot; add to rice mixture. Brown chicken in onion saute pan. Add to rice mixture. About now, the liquid in the rice mixture should come just to a boil. Turn off stove, and carefully slide pan into oven. Cover with foil. Heat for 40 minutes to an hour (my chicken was not fully defrosted before I browned, so it took just over an hour). Check chicken for doneness after 40 minutes. Leave uncovered in oven for the last 5-10 minutes to brown the skin, if desired.

That's it.

Holding Pattern

No, that does not describe my holiday travels. We, in fact, are staying home.

If you didn't know, there's not an airline around who'll accept to fly a woman who is 34-weeks pregnant without a doctor's order; and there are few of us who could afford the bribe necessary to get a doctor to write such an order, or the one necessary to get an entire flight of passengers and crew to pretend they don't notice. All that said, what woman 34-weeks pregnant would even want to fly?

Chanukah was pleasant and mostly uneventful. Rocket's folks will arrive to visit for a week on December 26. I've decided that I'll mostly take the week off. Hence the holding pattern.

I've realized I'm in that odd state between things where the old is not quite extinguished, and the new not yet inflamed. It's finding the energy to clear out the ashes in between that takes the most effort.

I started writing the brief bio I committed to. I'm still undecided on the book chapter. I'll yet have more than a week to deal with that after the new year.

I spent a little time looking over things. I've got a white board on the wall facing my desk that is filled with projects and ideas for my research firm. I've hardly looked at it these past couple months. I glanced over some of the attempts I had made in September, before I was mistakenly led to believe I'd be getting programming help for my proofs-of-concept. It's been eight months since I defined the first proof-of-concept, which I had initially hoped to have for August, then wished to complete by the end of the year. I've been clearing away the hurdles and debris that have been holding me back.

I back-burnered my research when the term began at Lemon four months ago; it's going to take me a bit of time to get back into a routine. But that's exactly what I intend to do. This (teaching at Lemon) was a good experiment for me, one which failed, but which nonetheless taught me something. The summer had been quite productive for me. I was excited and impassioned. I had hopes that I'd be able to continue that, while also teaching adjunct.

Now I realize that teaching (82 students as the term began, eventually dropping to 75 in the end) consumed far more time and energy than I had expected (not to mention the 9-12 hours weekly commute), and was thus incompatible with my plans to make strides in my research. When it's a choice between teaching and research, it's the latter that most drives me.

It will be a couple weeks until both Rocket and I are settled into our new roles (I, no longer the teacher; she, no longer the actively employed). I suppose just when we think we've settled, son #3 will arrive and upset the apple cart again. There are no deadlines for life. What remains for us now is to learn (once again) how to live.

Clearing the decks

My ship is tethered to shore, firmly holding against wind and waves in this protected inlet, yet like an eager horse, tied to post, awaiting freedom to fly.

I need to clear the decks, in preparation for the journey. A few weeks ago, I agreed to pen a brief (2000 words) biography of my dissertation protagonist, for a set of library volumes. It's not so much. I considered writing my regrets, and recommending a colleague (the one who got the post I almost had three years ago). But it won't hold me down too long. A commitment is still a commitment.

Then, there's a book chapter (culminating from the conference I gave a plenary address at last summer in the UK). I'm supposed to prepare an abstract for that by January 11, and a final chapter submission by end of October 2008. Should I still write it? Does it matter any more?

I wonder at these little milestones, that I used to believe meaningful, that might have served in my tenure portfolio as evidence of productiveness. Now I view it more as tying up loose ends, not disappointing those counting on my word, not cheapening my word by backing out. But they hold little meaning for me anymore, little hope that their reach shall be broad.

I am sad.

Today is different though. The sadness does not consume me. There is no depression in my heart. Resentment has left me. I am me, unadorned, free. There are choices that I have made in my life, commitments that I will hold to. I have a family I adore.

And... I have dreams, and passions. I met my wonderful wife in 1994 as we both entered graduate school. We've passed through many things since then. I wondered out loud the other night, which one my many selves it was that Rocket fell in love with. She replied that she fell in love with a dreamer, overflowing with passion and ideas.

Let the dreams begin (again)!

Pouring out a full cup

Dear Tasse,

It's been a tour. As we face the new year 2008, I've decided the tour will end. I am no longer seeking a faculty position in academia. I resigned my "part-time" position at Lemon as of the term just ended. Working 25-30 hours a week plus a 10 hour weekly commute (for $6000 take home pay!) left me little time or energy to pursue anything beyond lecture preps and grading. Teaching 75 students is not part-time work. And for such pay, and no benefits, its rewards pale against the cost.

I leave with a great deal of sorrow and disappointment. A PhD does not mean what I thought it had. The academy is not the place I thought it was. It is the temple at which I have worshipped virtually all my life, believing knowledge and inquiry to be its principals. It seems I was deceived. It's sad to leave, but surprisingly not so hard.

I've come to believe that (surely some, including you, had tried to open my eyes to this) academia is not a welcoming home for me and my ideas. Although I still love teaching, and I have no doubts that I am a good teacher (my student evaluations, and gratuitous comments, attest to that), my commitments are not compatible with what has been and remains expected of a professor of [Field 1]. I realize (in part, teaching adjunct at Lemon has helped in this regard) that most of the jobs I might have eventually gained would have left me wondering why I had struggled so long to attain them.

I will be forging off on my own, building my research into something beneficial and marketable. I am confident that my ideas are worthwhile, that I will be able to accomplish some good with them. The only questions that remain are when, and whether our savings will last us long enough. I thank you for your support and encouragement these past many years. Be well.

Yours,
Articulate
___________________________________

Dear Articulate:

Thanks for your note. As you know, I am always ready to stand behind you and your work. I know that no one has tried more than you to make things work, and I admire your courage and your persistence.

As usual, warmest wishes to you and your family.

Best,
Tasse

Painful goodbye

Briefly (since it's after 1:00, and I'll be up with the boys by 7:00). I've finished grading the final exams for the second class. Now all that remains is to register grades for my first class, and calculate (and double check) the grades for this second one, then register them as well.

On both exams, the final essay question was essentially: What did you learn in this class, and how might you use that in your life and career moving forward? I asked for specifics, but left them room to expand on their real thoughts. I found it the sort of question that would force them to reflect on the term, especially important since both of my classes were Gen. Ed.

I was impressed and moved by many of the comments. Perhaps I'll share some of the pith in the coming days. I found myself in tears at times, realizing that I did touch these students. How much ever more painful it is then for me to walk away. These kids deserve a teacher like me. But I deserve so much better than Lemon (or any other institution I've applied to) has been willing to give me.

Damn, it hurts to go!

Freudensorge

There is an often neglected corollary to Schadenfreude, what one might call Freudensorge, to suffer at another's joy. For three years that has been for me (shamefully) a recurring condition. I say this not to defend it, nor to excuse it, but simply to acknowledge it. I am human after all. Behind the mask of strength and self-confidence I wear for myself, to convince myself that it is all worth it, that I will at long last find myself a home, a niche, a place to be, I am still imperfect.

For three years, since receiving my PhD, and being shoved unceremoniously out the door, I've been shat upon (in part I admit by my own expectations, in part I'm now convinced by my lack of whatever it takes to interview well). In all this, I remain confident of my abilities, my teaching (confirmed by my students' continuing remarks), and my research (in some ways perhaps unconfirmed, but nonetheless clear to me). And yet, three years is a long time to go with little reward, little applause. I've been lucky to have retained the love and support of my wonderful wife. Yet that too, that support (that lack of need to support myself), has been a mixed blessing, saving me from poverty, but shielding me from necessity.

I've floundered a bit, in search of my place. Three years! Application after application. I don't feel sorry for myself (at least not any more). I try not to let the anger, the frustration, the sadness consume me. It's rather futile I know. Yet it's hard to hear of others' success, their moving on to bigger and better. I wonder about friends I've lost touch with. I just looked up a blogger I used to know as Dryden. As it turns out, he has landed himself a tenure-track gig.

Is it just me? I'm sure it's not. No self-pity, right? I know that I could stick it out. Others have done it for longer, and finally achieved what they sought. I could have remained at Lemon. It was handed to me in unsubtle terms that I could stay an adjunct there for as long as I wanted. But I didn't want. I wasn't willing to hang on any more. For me, three years has been enough. I've finally accepted that the tenure-track faculty job I've spent so much effort chasing may not in fact be the right one for me. Cut your losses.

Is it failure? It doesn't really feel that way, though surely I would have like to have had a job that I might decide wasn't ideal, than to have spent so much time seeking one, only to back out now. Better late than never.

As I've advised others to do, I feel that Rocket and I are driving. We're in charge of our lives, our choices, our decisions. It's all calculated risk. But that doesn't lessen the apprehension. After three years of rejection, it's only human to be just a bit unsure of my own worthiness. This is the choice I make.

Wish me well, my friends. I promise to shirk Freudensorge, as I can.

The door is closed

I've shut the door behind me. I must say, it's quite warm on this side, without the breeze, drying me, causing myself to constantly replenish warmth and moisture. That wind has taken much from me. But it has taught me some as well. Goodbye breeze, I'll remember you. But... I doubt I'll miss you much.

I feel at the moment, not resentment, not envy, not frustration, but opportunity pure and simple. I am ready for this. These past few days, I've had the chance to reflect. Each of those emotions welled up for a time. But they've left me. What remains... is me.

Today, I took the boys for a hike. The Painter had been asking to walk to the top of a mountain. It was nice. Driving through the hills, surrounded on all sides with impressive--some gaudy, some beautiful--mansions, I was able to smile mostly, not with envy, simply perhaps... appreciation.

I don't know who lives in those houses. Many were decorated for the season (funny to see snowmen over green grass, beside orange trees). Real people live there. People with children and lives. Some of them for sure are cutthroats, making money by taking advantage of others; some perhaps inherited their money; some likely worked their way out of poverty. It doesn't really matter. I don't know them. I just see the outside of their houses, like seeing someone's jacket or their hair.

A nice leather coat looks warm. A full head of curly hair may look right or wrong. I feel no need to judge. But that, alone because I've realized I don't want their lives. All I need is my own. And that is just fine with me. Perhaps some day I will live in an impressive mansion. Perhaps not. Either way, it's not the house that will make me happy, as I'm sure it's not the houses I see that make their inhabitants happy or miserable as the case may be.

I thought I envied those friends or colleagues or strangers who had faculty posts, especially those who moved seamlessly from graduate school to professor. But I don't. And I don't resent them either. Their lives, their choices.

I think of Rocket's friend Kay. A couple weeks ago they spoke on the phone for about an hour. One thing that Rocket told me made me laugh, but in a sad sort of way. Kay (mother of two) explained that she plans to quit working for her current employer when her first child graduates from college. He's 5! She says she likes the work fair enough, but she doesn't feel appreciated there. She's been passed over for promotions several times. So... she's only going to stick it out another 13 years!

Um... words fail me. Why anyone would remain in a situation that makes them unhappy... I simply cannot fathom. I've been miserable looking for a faculty post. As I had anticipated, my stint at Lemon has been an eye-opener, a chance to get my feet wet, to see how I settled with faculty life. Truth is, while I love teaching, there is much about the job that I don't love.

Sometimes I wish to be the victim, to blame someone else for my misery. But, I'm not really happy being miserable, even when there is someone to blame. And so, I take full responsibility for my life. I've been unhappy at Lemon. It is my choice alone to leave, which (just as soon I've submitted my grades) is done.

But it's not just being an adjunct. I think about friends of mine who have those (erstwhile enviable) tenure-track positions that when I'm honest with myself I wouldn't really wish to have. What do I want? What are my priorities? I enjoyed being a graduate student. I enjoyed the freedom of it, the freedom to pursue my intellectual interests. Freedom for me. No one stood in my way. Freedom for me, because I appealed to the faculty to replace several of the program's requirements with courses from other departments, and I had an advocate in my advisor who was willing to pull for me.

For whatever reason they approved my reworked curriculum. I forged a truly interdisciplinary program, and participated fully in a cross-disciplinary emphasis (essentially a minor), which wasn't recognized by my department (thus rather than having it listed on my degree, my file includes a letter from the chair of the emphasis, the president of the graduate council, and the chair of my department attesting to my exemplary completion of the requirements). I passed my comprehensive exams; and the four on my committee approved my dissertation. Case closed. I'm a PhD.

The problem has been that in the midst of pursuing that goal, I settled into believing it should culminate in a faculty post. I coasted in the cart, expecting someone would knock at the door as it passed through towns, asking if I might not kindly come teach for them. Truth is, I'm not very good at coasting. I've learned I'm rather bad at getting my foot in doors with cover letters (though a few succeeded); and I'm even worse at interviewing for faculty posts. Funny that's what it comes down to--not whether I'm good at teaching or researching (both of which I am--I have no shame in that confidence), but rather whether I'm good at interviewing. No shame in that skill either; it's just one I seem to lack.

And so, here I am, finally, fully behind a closed door. And I stand overlooking a garden of delight, sheltered and protected in a greenhouse of my own design. Oh so much pruning and planting to do. Time to get my hands dirty (again)!

Suddenly Dad

Today, I administered the first of my two finals. Several of the students wished me well or embraced me, knowing they might never see me again, thanking me "for everything". I have yet one more final to write and administer (on Wednesday night). Then lots and lots of grading.

D, our au pair since the end of July has found a new family. We decided to forego the extension. We just couldn't justify the expense for a need we no longer felt we had. But she'll be leaving us suddenly, tomorrow! I wish her well. She was able to watch the boys today, which helped. Rocket will plan to be home early on Wednesday, so I can head into traffic by 4:30 (necessary for me to get down there in time to grab a bite before the exam begins at 7:00).

Rocket is officially telecommuting two days per week, so we'll likely both work from home on tomorrow and Thursday (I, mostly or entirely just grading), trading off keeping the boys company. I'll be on full-time dad duty during the day Wednesday and Friday, and through Thursday of next week, as she finishes up her loose ends. Friday would normally be a day off for her (still on the 9-80 schedule)... making Thursday her final day.

That's the end of something. We're all home then, suddenly! For now, I'll still keep my office, and will plan to keep plugging away on patent development and coding my proofs-of-concept. But I'm no longer on anybody's schedule but my own. I suspect I'll be content to work 5 or 6 hours a day.

We'll have time to leisurely pack over the next couple months, to purge, throw away, give away, or donate whatever we can do without. We've got research to do about where precisely we'll be moving, and about our options for moving our things. We've got to research about health insurance. I'm no longer expecting Miwla to call (though of course they may yet). I can't say that I won't be half-relieved if they don't. Then the decision is easier to make. I won't have to consider whether their offer represents something good, bad, or neutral.

In the meantime, I've been selling off equities holdings, and transferring more of our money into bonds and cash. I'd like to keep a year to 18-months liquid and accessible. If we decide to buy a place, we'll need the cash for a down-payment. We'll just have to see.

One at a time:

• Exam #2: write and administer
• Enjoy my boys
  
• Grade both exams, final assignments, extra credit
• Enjoy my boys
  
• Register grades
• Enjoy my boys
  
• Celebrate our freedom!
• Plan for the next chapter
• Prepare for and enjoy the birth of #3
• Move on
  

The journey is good.

Rebirth

I feel a weight, the weight of a heavy coat, or coat of armor, one that has embraced me, and protected me, though at times constricted as well, lifting, leaving me standing naked.

Today is my last lecture at Lemon. Part of me believes this may be my final lecture anywhere. It is a frightening event. I can't quite say a sad day. Birth is frightening as well, a great violence. And yet, there is something on the other side, a light, as well as cold air. For a newborn, there are people and love.

What will there be for me?

Perhaps I am like the fallen angels in Wings of Desire. The coat of armor will land on my head. But the colors of a world I have only ever before seen in stark contrasts will emerge.

Was ist das?
Grau-blau...

And so... I step lightly. Who knows, the call may yet come. Either way, I walk through a door.

Home stretch

I got through grading all the final projects for my Wednesday evening class. It was unexpectedly quite a pleasure to do. I had described to my students that my view of exams and assignments is that (at best) they should serve (like scenes in a good show) to propel the action, rather than interrupt it. The exams should not be simply assessing their mastery of what's come before, but should serve to further and deepen their understanding of the material.

With this project I feel that I truly did challenge the students to better understand the material of the course, to personalize it, to get under the hood so to speak. It does me good to feel I'm making a difference in their lives.

On Tuesday, at the beginning of class, I announced that the department secretary would be coming to administer the teacher evaluations at the end of the class. I said that I'd like them to be completely honest, because they'll mean far more to me than to the school, since I wouldn't be returning. There was an audible collective sigh, and a shocked, "You're not coming back?" "Why not?". I said I would take two minutes to explain, then leave it. I said that I found it abhorrent, disgusting, and insupportable that 55% of the faculty at their school were part-timers, underpaid, overworked, without benefits. I said that my choice to leave was not because I didn't enjoy teaching them, but about the institutional policies, and my personal priorities. They seemed truly disappointed, not so much with me, but that I'd be gone.

I got a nice email from one of those students today, explaining that they were all sad I'd be leaving, noting that they can all tell that I really care about them, about what they learn, and how it might apply to their lives, and thanking me for that. He said he truly hopes I continue teaching after I leave Lemon. It warms the heart. And saddens me a bit as well. For the moment, I have one last chance to continue teaching. I'm tired. If not Miwla, I'm walking away from academia, at least for a time.

One of my student's essays reported (a bit off topic, I might add) that she's spent the past 16 years in school, and how as she stands on the verge of graduating, she's a bit apprehensive about the world beyond. I know the feeling. But I've graduated, numerous times. I've walked in and out of those portals enough for the paths to be familiar. Different shapes, different materials, but somehow the same. I've heard the pomp of celebrations. And I've smelled the must of libraries. I've grown up with the computer technologies that surround us (I remember learning BASIC in middle school; I wrote papers on typewriters and "word processors"; I well recall my PC XT, on which I wrote my Master's thesis). The academy has been my world. But, when you've got one foot in and one foot out, it's only a matter of time before you step to one side, and close the door.

[I'm overcome with emotion, as I write that.]

When dead horses ride

I feel at times like I'm stuck in an episode of Seinfeld, where dropping hints seem to have the opposite effect. On November 19, I wrote to a couple guys I had met with back in September in response to their contact of November 18 to say:

My interest at this point is simply to hire a programmer on a contract ("work for hire") basis to assist me in the coding of some proof-of-concept tools, translating my algorithms into executables. As I've said, if all goes well, I'll have much more need for programming in the future.

I fear we're at an impasse. The agreement you sent countermands the entirety of the non-disclosure agreement ("This Agreement and any documents referred to in this Agreement contain the entire agreement between the Parties with respect to the subject matter hereof and supersede all previous agreements and understandings between the Parties with respect hereto.")

I'm no lawyer, and I don't have the staff to negotiate fine points of contract. The relationship I seek is simply translating my algorithms into executable code. The non-disclosure agreement protects my interests. I have indicated what I'm willing to offer in terms of compensation (and bonus) for your part.

The only sort of service agreement I'd be interested in signing at this point would merely specify those payment terms, and outline the programming work to be done. I'd even be willing to run it by a lawyer to make sure the interests of both parties to the agreement are satisfied. If this is not of interest to you, let me know if there is anyone you recommend who might be interested. You seem to be quite busy with your ongoing projects. I wish you both the best of success.

We spoke that afternoon, and they assured me of their interest in working for me, and promised to prepare a new work agreement by the end of the month. Of course, it was at their insistence that I allowed them to prepare a work agreement in the first place. I had never sought to hire a consultancy. I merely contacted an individual programmer who had done work for a colleague and who was recommended by him for his programming skills. He suggested including his friend, and I agreed to fly the 300 miles to meet with both of them a couple months ago.

About six weeks passed, during which I had heard barely a word from them. I had written them with the specifics of my proposal for hiring them, how much I would pay (including hefty bonuses based on the success of my business over time), and what I would expect from them. Their reply was apologetic. I intoned, in part:

I well know the issues involved in running your own business, since I've been doing it with various ventures since at least 1990. You've got to keep clear lines of communication open with your clients, focus as much as you can on the work of the business rather than its logistics (they will mercilessly suck up your time and energy).

I thought the point (boldface here) was not too subtle. I guessed wrong.

A few days ago, they forwarded me a completely different work agreement, which wasn't quite so badly worded, but which raised many red flags for me. First off, hadn't I written The only sort of service agreement I'd be interested in signing at this point would merely specify those payment terms, and outline the programming work to be done? Well, yes. But they sent me instead a six page document! Aargh!

Hence, my reply of yesterday finally cutting them loose. That as well, apparently, was not enough. I received two more emails from one of them, the one whom I had originally contacted. He first attempted to allay my concerns over the wording about partial credit that I had objected to, and asking just what a I meant by works made for hire. (Um... you ever heard of web search engines? a library? a lawyer? Do your own homework!) Nonethess, I sent him a terse email:

See: http://www.copyright.gov/circs/circ09.pdf.

He responded (yet again) with commentary and quotations challenging the relevance of the cited document on copyright law for the work they would be doing (although the document describes "A software program created within the scope of his or her duties" as an example of work that falls under this category).

Frustrating. What I so much want to write back is:

1. I hear you're a great programmer. Let me know what you charge for legal advice, too.
   
2. I already have good legal counsel, thank you.
3. I'm much better at research than at law. I try to focus on what I'm best at. Something to think about, eh?
4. Oh, gee, thanks for the harassment clarification. I mean, now that I know you're quite adept at arguing obscure points of law, I can be assured you'd be the first to make a claim in court, should my business take off. Gosh, that's the first thing I want to do, hire someone who (what was it you were going to do for me? I mean it's been two months and I haven't seen or discussed any coding) is more interested in forging legal arguments than actually accomplishing any work.

Instead, I write it here, so I can keep silence with them, and let the dead horse lie.

First step, prepare my final three lectures, write and administer final exams, grade exams and papers, submit grades. Next step, get back to clarifying my algorithms. Then, learn C#, and do the programming myself. That'll save us an additional several thousand dollars over the next few months.

Meantime, I try not to wait too anxiously for a call from Miwla College. One way or another, we're ready for our move.

Cutting them loose

Hi Q & A,

I've now had a chance to review the documents you sent over. One point of your proposal stuck out to me:

Client understands that as implementer [Firm] shall receive partial credit for any and all concepts, ideas, theories, insights, discoveries, innovations, and inventions pertaining to the work products specified in this agreement that result in a patent during or after the execution of this agreement.

On this point, I recommend you get yourselves a copy of Nolo's Patents for Beginners, (ISBN 1-4133-0455-9), which may be useful to you moving forward. In particular, p. 140 states: "if one person came up with the concept of the invention, while the other merely built and tested it--the second person is not a co-inventor."

As I wrote previously my interest up to this point has simply been a work-for-hire arrangement with a programmer, to assist me in translating my algorithms into executable code. I am sorry that such a relationship is not in keeping with your plans for [Firm]. Under the circumstances, it appears in my best interest to complete and file the patent applications that I have in process prior to hiring any programming assistance. While I had hoped to prepare the proofs-of-concept in advance of filing, these are not essential to the patents themselves, though potentially beneficial down the road in seeking clients and investors.

I wish you both well, as you move forward with your business and your dreams. I trust that you will abide by the confidentiality agreement that we have all signed, keeping the details of our interactions, and any and all documents provided by me, in confidence. If I have need for your services in the future, I will be sure to contact you.

Best regards,

Articulate

Purge

Our lives are in motion! It's rather exhilarating.

Sudden changes. The doctor suggesting Rocket take off from work several weeks sooner than planned. The term rapidly coming to an end for me.

Last night, Rocket & I had a date (perhaps the last for a while, as you shall learn). It was her birthday. We went to a nice tapas bar. The same one we visited last April. I thought it a fitting location to celebrate as some of our life plans, ones that we discussed in embryo last time we visited that restaurant, were taking form (even if more rapidly than we had expected).

Before dinner, we stopped by my office to look over our finances, and run some calculations. One thing that Rocket discovered this week was that her disability/family leave pay will be a bit less than we had been anticipating. So, we ran some figures.

One of the results of these calculations (and a re-dedication to our family priorities) was that we've decided not to extend our arrangement with D. That will save us about $6500 over the next few months. She'll be looking for a new family, and will likely leave us sometime this month. Circumstances have changed dramatically from last summer when D came to join us. We had expected that Rocket would be working through the end of January. And we expected that I would remain at Lemon until the summer. Likely we'll still have her help for the next few weeks (at least long enough to get me through finals). If not, hey, I'll take the boys with me to campus. It may sound odd, but I'm actually quite pleased with these changes. We're driving. We're in charge. We're setting our priorities, and sticking to them.

We'll both be off of work in the next few weeks, lower income, but more time to spend with our boys. Some unexpected changes, but this is a calculated and measured move. We know what we have in the bank. We know our current spending habits. We know where we can cut costs. Truth is, we can sustain ourselves easily for a year to two (even were we to remain here), but more likely we've got a good three years of expenses covered (assuming the cost of living where we're planning to move). I have no intention to come close to that red line. But it's good to know it's far off.

One thing we realized in the midst of this, is that there's really little keeping us here through June or July (as we had been thinking). In fact, the only real issue is the Painter's kindergarten which won't end until mid-June. But that alone is not enough to keep us put an extra few months.

The plan now is we stick around through #3's birth (we've actually picked out a name, but we're keeping it under wraps for now... we may change our minds), and a month or so for mother and baby's recovery. But that brings us to possibly moving around the end of March or April. The sooner we leave, the sooner we reduce our living expenses.

We are, as it were, free! The only obligation we retain is the remaining $40,000 balance on our student loans, which if we chose, we could pay off. For now, it seems wiser to continue the ~$450 monthly payment, and keep the cash in savings (just in case). We own our vehicles. We have no mortgage. And we're on the verge of tying up all loose ends. Life is in our hands.

For now, we wait to hear from Miwla College. Either way, we're priming for our move, whether near Miwla or elsewhere in that rhomboid.

As I reminded Rocket, a bit more timid and apprehensive about these changes than I: This is something I'm really good at, something I thrive with. Reinvention. We're good.

Does history repeat?

What's up with the world and it's leaders these days? First we have this idiot in the White House. I swear, every time I hear him speak, even the rare occasions when what he has to say is reasonable (like for instance a pledge to increase support to fight AIDS in developing countries) he sounds stupid, inarticulate. How in the world anyone could have voted for him, thinking him a leader, someone to be followed, emulated, I haven't the slightest idea. And his presidency has pushed the limits of consolidating power in the executive branch even more than Nixon's.

We have a rise of insanity across the globe. EU-Iranian talks regarding Iran's nuclear program have faltered. Putin is consolidating power, cracking down on opposition, and suppressing free press in Russia; Musharraf continues his farcical reign as president, having gutted the Pakistani Supreme Court which was standing to consider the validity of his election to the post he seized in a coup, meanwhile suppressing free press; Venezuela's Chavez is exceedingly close to pushing through constitutional reforms (with seductively populist changes like reducing the work day from eight hours to six!) which threaten to permit him unbridled power, and a repeal of presidential term limits, all the while suppressing free press.

You see the pattern? Is there any hope in this context of peace between the Israelis and Palestinians? Is there any chance that America will elect a true leader, who will have the wisdom, courage, and moral authority to inspire the world away from the growing push toward authoritarianism? I don't know. Wisdom, courage, and moral authority seem to be in exile. It's up to us to coax them back.

Hibernation

I feel a bit overwhelmed at the moment. I've got myself a nasty cold since yesterday. I actually ended up canceling my afternoon lecture yesterday because I was feeling miserable, and thought resting up for my telephone interview was a higher priority. I might likely have put off the class in any case, the way I was feeling. I'm glad I took the rest though. Despite not feeling quite 100%, I did alright.

I think I remain a rather strong candidate for the post. I had one more question when they wrapped up because of time constraints (the interview was scheduled to last 20 minutes). So, I emailed the chair of the committee. This morning, he sent back a clear and thoughtful response to my inquiry (and cc'd the entire committee). I think that's a good sign that they're still taking me seriously. We'll know soon enough. I would very much like to be offered this opportunity. And I'm rather disinclined to apply for any other positions.

That leads us closer to our (well, not decision point) but our point of movement. Decisions have already been made; we're simply waiting on the few factors that are out of our hands at the moment, before we finalize details. Rocket has now given notice to her supervisor that she'll be taking off before the holidays. That gives her less than three weeks before her hypotheticals become realities.

I'll know in the next couple weeks if I'm out of the running for the post at Miwla College, but perhaps more likely, I'll simply find that I'm still under consideration, and things will remain up in the air a bit until February or March. Meantime, what do I do with my research firm? Ah yes... that's still on my mind.

Tonight I was scheduled to have a conference call with the two programmers I've been meaning to hire. Things got far more complicated in the weeks following our initial meeting. As I wrote before, they finally sent me a rather terse document, which I found unacceptable as a work agreement. We spoke a couple weeks ago, and agreed to revisit the issues today. This morning, I received an email from them with a new draft agreement and some feedback and questions on my original specifications document.

There were certainly some improvements in this work agreement, especially in terms of clarity. But I'm a bit leery of a few items, in particular regarding sharing "partial credit" for potential patents. I'd like to run the document by an attorney. More importantly, I really need some more time (and energy) to review it, which currently I'm too wiped out for.

So, I sent off an email postponing the conference call, suggesting that I'll plan to call them in the next couple weeks. Partly, I'm feeling inclined to revert to my plan to simply do the initial programming myself, despite the fact that it looks fruitful for me to abandon my initial forays in C++, and take up learning C#. Of course, with Rocket off of work, and our planned move to parts remote in the coming months (regardless of the outcome at Miwla College, I might possibly have some company learning and programming.

I guess what I realize is that while their assistance would be helpful, their experience would likely save me a great deal of time and trouble, and I'd likely have a workable toolset sooner, I'm not convinced that it is absolutely essential, certainly not enough for me to hand over any credit ("partial" or otherwise) for their implementation of my algorithms. Their new document specifically states that they: as implementer shall receive partial credit for any and all [blahdiblah] pertaining to the work of this agreement that results in a patent both during and after the execution of this agreement.

While, the statement is rather vague (I mean, I could grant them .005% of my company's future profits, which would be "partial credit"), I'm just not sure that their work at this point would warrant it. And, I'm not sure what the legal ramifications would be for my agreeing to it (hence the need to consult with an attorney).

In any case, I'm feeling quite a desire to hibernate from the world for a few weeks. Unfortunately, I've yet another few weeks of obligations (grading, teaching) to Lemon. But, I plan to get my rest as I can, recovering from this nasty bug I've caught, and putting off these programmers until I'm up to dealing with the issues properly. If it means I'm back on my own, then so be it. One thing I've learned this term is that working 25-30 hours a week on teaching, plus a 9-12 hour commute, is incompatible with me building a research firm.

When I started the term at Lemon, I thought I'd have about 1.5-2 days per week for my research. Once grading kicked in, that was impossible (at least without sacrificing my home life). Important to keep that in mind. If Miwla comes through, I would hope that the significantly smaller class size, the full-time office, and a negligible commute would facilitate both teaching and research. And if it doesn't come through, I've got all the time I want (limited only by the reach of our savings). For now, I can only hope.

It'll be nice to have Rocket around more, once she takes off on leave. And it'll be nice to be free of the long (pollution-filled) commutes to Lemon. Soon enough, soon enough.

Who knows... maybe I'll get a pleasant call from Miwla in the next week.

So much better in person

Okay... so the phone interview is done. I dread the conference call of disembodied voices. Despite the fact that I had spoken one on one with three of the five committee members, I was terribly nervous.

Tasse Plein had suggested to me:

Make sure to really listen to them. In other words, make sure to let them talk; ask them questions about themselves if appropriate. Please make sure to keep your answers fairly brief. Your enthusiasm will always be an advantage, but make sure you don't come on too strong.

I do my best. Caught myself a bit just blathering on. But I think they like me. A couple of them stepped in to rescue me a bit it seemed. And I listened. And... after the formal questions (God I hate those, I feel like I just talk in vagaries), I lightened up a bit. And I listened, and asked questions. And I reflected on what they said.

We'll see. That part is over. They say they expect to make a decision in the next week or so about whom to invite to campus. They'll invite three or four to come in the end of January or beginning of February. (Great, I think... just when my baby is due!) But, I'll cross that logistical bridge when I come to it. For now, I don't know that they'll invite me.

The waiting is the hardest. To be fair, I think I had a lot of good things to say. But I wasn't my strongest with the opening questions. It wasn't so bad. But... my cell phone, them on a crackly speaker phone, we lost a connection at one point. [SIGH].

It's done. Now to let it go. I'm on to the next thing. I've got a conference call with my programmers tomorrow. Lots of grading left to do. I should know in a week or so. Either way, I'm moving on.

Butterflies

The clock is ticking down. Thai lunch today. Fortune cookie read: "A long awaited opportunity will be comeing [sic] soon". I hope, I hope.

Actually, from my many years performing on stage, I don't really get butterflies. Rather, I need to pee, usually about six times before the curtain goes up.

Wish me luck. Less than an hour to go. Gotta run now. You know where.

Time ticking

Funny that I would write a post entitled "Time in Slow Motion" while my wife would write "Time Compresses". Time is on both of our minds.

I wanted to let her break the news so to speak before I brought it up on my blog. It looks now like she'll be taking off from work about 6 weeks sooner than planned, on December 20. Her appointment with the OB yesterday put a little fire under her feet, with the doctor's suggestion that she might benefit from taking off at 30 weeks. She did a quick calculation, then said "but that's less than two weeks!" So, she'll hold out a little longer than the doctor suggested, but not by much.

Her plans had been to work through the end of January. And now, all on a sudden, she's facing wrapping up loose ends, then heading home. And I? Tomorrow I have my telephone interview with Miwla College. I'm excited, yet mellowed. I wish to give my best face. Yet, I'm perfectly content to accept whatever outcome results.

Rocket has been saying that what she's come to see her career as meaning is money, recognition, and stability. I see the possibilities in this post at Miwla as being along those lines. I'd enjoy the work. And I'd do it well. Of that, I am quite convinced. There is much to like in the school, and the post just beckons me. Yet, I've had a long tour of this, and I'm not so committed (attached) to landing a faculty post anymore. For a tenure-track gig it's about as wonderful as I could imagine. And yet, I've come to believe that, despite what I'd come to expect throughout graduate school, a tenure-track gig is not necessarily the pinnacle of my career choices.

Money, recognition, stability. Nothing wrong with those three. It's just... they're only part of the package.

Time in slow motion

Our Honda Odyssey has a rather annoying feature. If one makes the mistake of trying to open the sliding side doors while locked, rather than what might be most useful and expected (simply not opening, which for any reasonable human being would be enough to indicate the possible need to unlock) they rather first attempt to open, then beep three times, then force a delay of another couple seconds while the system resets. Whatever the reasoning behind this, the nuisance factor far outweighs any imaginable benefit.

And so it is with the waiting in our lives. The decision is made, the effort has been initiated, and now we listen to the beeping of time, and realize there will yet be another inevitable delay following. Because my heart has departed from Lemon, I find myself dreading even more than usual the grading, which I ploddingly get through. Am I just whining?

I complain about my 72 students (ostensibly tended during a laughably fictitious 16-hour workweek). And I hear of friends with far more students. Of course, they are full-time, tenure-track, reasonably compensated, with benefits, and an office, and... But, I believe they are overloaded as well. Both friends I think of teach at state schools, and have 100 or more students in 3, 4, 5 classes per term. I wonder if "learning centered" isn't simply a euphemism for "we really don't care about the students or faculty, so long as we can cram a whole load of them into the same classroom." But I digress.

I have been reading more on the website about Miwla College. Small class sizes, full commitment to interdisciplinarity, and international education (40% of the graduates have spent a term or a year overseas, and their goal is to exceed 50%). It sounds like a great place for me. I don't think I'm whining so much, as I come to hold a clearer understanding of my expectations and my tolerances. I love to teach, but not if it means teaching more than 60 students per term. I've simply set a cap. I love my research also, and... my family.

Rocket has been looking over possible photographer websites, thinking she might like to get a nice pregnancy portrait done. One site, whose images we like, presents a comment on finding a photographer that self-congratulatorily indicates that "She has spent the necessary 16 hour days, 7 days a week learning and refining her craft." Ha!

Necessary! I wonder at this absurdity that somehow true love of a profession requires sacrifice of self. Why should teachers be praised for spending 60 or 80 hours a week on task? It's an odd praise. As someone who has worked 16 hour days at one point in my life. It doesn't make you better at your task. It wears you out. It reduces your productivity and concentration, and often compromises the quality of your results. There is no necessity in suffering. And, while many of us do get through, there's no reason to suspect that we wouldn't have accomplished as much if we spent less, but perhaps more concentrated, time on the effort.

I think I'll begin an occasional series of posts on unexamined assumptions.

Hit the ground running

That's a phrase I've often used to describe myself, or which I've used as a motto for myself when entering a new situation. "Hit the ground running!" It describes initial momentum, rather than stasis and acceptance. It's an attitude of strength, and of one of my favorite conditions "cultivated naivety". Let's just see what can be done, before I've had a chance to be weighted down by pre-existing notions of possibility.

But there's an often neglected aspect to the phrase. "Hit the ground running" presents the image of being in flight, of floating, of the liminal state. That ... is where I am now. I'm in the air ("up in the air" as we say), waiting for a landing. I can't start running 'til my feet hit the ground.

I'm not good at waiting. This isn't the same waiting I've encountered however these past couple years. Rather, it's not the same sort of waiting I've grown to inhabit during these past few years. It's not the hopeless waiting in a terminal for a train that I don't expect to arrive. It's not the waiting outside a loved one's hospital room for the inevitable news I don't wish to hear.

It's simply waiting ... for the time to be ripe. I watch the oranges on our backyard tree with impatience, but also with anticipation. They will ripen; that I can expect. And so will time for me. Thursday, I have my telephone interview with the interdisciplinary search committee at Miwla College. Thursday at 5:00, after driving back from teaching at Lemon University. I had asked for a late time, so I'd be sure not to have them catch me in traffic. Should I be Brutus or Marc Antony? In this case, I suppose I opted for the latter.

I was told there might be as many as 10 telephone interviews. I made the first cut. But I'm no longer resting my hopes on making it on the team. I've other things to do. This is just one of those options. And yet... I haven't rejected it. I haven't given up. I would still like to be offered the post. The best I can do--indeed the only true thing I can do--is be myself. It's odd, I feel that they (the committee) are in a more unenviable position than I.

While I wait for a landing, at least I know the destination of the flight. We can't yet decide the specifics, but the area is circumscribed. And I know, whether I get this post or not, what my research focus will remain.

In a sense, I'm not simply waiting for the flight to land. I'm waiting at the moment for the flight to take off. Two more weeks of teaching at Lemon, then finals and another week (or so) of grading. I imagine that the last few days of a prison sentence may present the prisoner with a certain euphoria in anticipation of the freedom (also of course an apprehension regarding it). Yet the bulk of one's time in prison will remain as it has been. I find myself in this sort of condition. I long now for my freedom from the oppression of Lemon University. (Though I recognize it is an oppression I have consented to.)

Rather dramatic perhaps. But I find I don't wish to be there. I'm done. Oh, I won't give out on my students. I'll still perform my lectures, and lead discussions, and prepare my handouts, and the tests. But my heart is already gone. Sure, I consented to the oppression. I also shrugged it off. I'm just waiting for the garment to fall. It's really a shame and a pity. The students deserve a professor who is fully committed. Too bad the institution has no interest in supporting instructors in cultivating and maintaining that commitment. Too bad our society so little values the efforts of teachers.

For now, I await the ripening.

Thankful for obligation

Thanksgiving. It was a quiet (at least as much as that word can apply to any time spent with my two young sons) day spent at home, with my wife, and boys, our au pair, and a friend of hers who's spending a week with us. We were going to spend the day with my mom and oldest brother, his girlfriend, my nephew, and her two daughters. But logistics (and custody issues) got the best of our plans. My other two brothers were not going to be able to make it in any case.

So, we stayed home. It's finally gotten cool here (relatively at least). It's chilly enough to make a fire at night and not feel too silly about it. I miss autumns (and winters and springs). Soon enough. Soon enough.

I've had time to think these past few days. Spent a good time reading "The Left Hand of Darkness" by Ursula Le Guin. Hadn't read her before. A thoughtful book. You never can tell, when you read a book, whether the book motivates contemplations or simply facilitates what's already being contemplated. Part of the story however involves a human species of a rather different sort of biology, thus impacting child-bearing and child-rearing.

I love my boys. I'm eagerly anticipating the arrival of number three. I really wouldn't have it any other way, childless that is. It's a choice that I made long ago. But it's not easy. Sometimes I lament the time that is spent, the time and energy that is dictated by accommodating them, their needs, their wants, their desires. I realize how much time a parent needs to give to children.

Of course, I can't be certain that time would be spent fruitfully otherwise. Aren't we all more productive when we're busy? Don't we become lax and lazy when an abundance of time presents itself? I recall my first summer back in school for the PhD. I hated it, the down time. 13 weeks! I counted the days. It was too long to go without a reason. My second summer was much easier: I enrolled in an intense summer workshop (garnering 8 credits or so of coursework). Not fully having my schedule at my service, perhaps I value more the time that is truly my own.

Of course, this is a choice as well. Many parents (perhaps fathers especially) would choose--have chosen--an easier path, shirking parental duties. I think of William Fulbright. The biography I read of him presents a man I admire in some ways, and yet one who gave little of himself to his children. I think of Alexander Graham Bell, who wrote in a letter to his wife: "...I somehow or other appear to be more interested in things than people, in people wholesale rather than in persons individual." [cited by Harlan Lane, "When the Mind Hears," p. 342]

I love my boys, our interactions. And yet, it would be false to say I wouldn't at times like a hiatus, a week or month without obligation. While I have no desire to be childless, I feel in some ways I understand better the value of liberty that those have whose choice it is to remain childless, perhaps better than they do themselves.

I think of the words of the late psycholinguist Liz Bates who defending bilingualism conceded that there is a cost in terms of the rate of cognitive development, perhaps even residual effects for adults on the speed of speech (even of thought) for those who learn more than one language fluently. She said simply: "It's like having more than one child. Sure, the first child loses out on some of your attention; your love is more spread out. But the benefits outweigh the costs."

I still smile today, thinking of her offhand remark. It is so true.

Headaches, now or later

I spoke with my programmers for about an hour just now. Sheesh. The good news is, we really do agree in principle on the framework for a relationship.

• I provide them with algorithms and specifications and design requests.
• They give me feedback.
• I provide updates.
  
• We talk once a week.
• They provide me with source code and discussion of what they've done, how many hours, etc.
• I issue them a check for the previous week's work.
• My intellectual property is protected.
• Any methods they develop that are applicable to other clients (but which doesn't infringe on my IP) is protected as theirs.
  

The plan is to get the initial work done in about 12 weeks. We'll reassess then. Looks like we won't get started on the coding however until December, if all goes well. But, getting them to accept that the document they gave me for review and discussion doesn't really serve the meat of that relationship, was painful. We've agreed to talk again in a couple weeks. Meantime, they'll come up with a fresh agreement.

I suggested that they scrap the document they drafted up. Make it plain and clear. We can specify (as we did verbally) what it is we're interested in ensuring and protecting, and what we expect of our relationship. Then, when it looks good to us, I'll run it by my attorney (I invited them to participate in that discussion, whether by email or telephone), to make sure the document we agree to serves those purposes.

[SIGH] It seems at times far more complicated than it really needs to be. But I suppose it's better to have headaches at the outset, then for the real migraines to emerge after time. It's like any good relationship: the trick is not avoiding fights at all costs, but always coming back to the table. I thought of simply walking away, I did. But then, it doesn't seem that what we've been arguing about is really the crux of our work together. So, for now, I'll keep lines of communication open. And hope, hope, hope, that soon the core of our discussions will be the work itself.

I got a call

Just a little while ago, I got a call.

Hello, this is [Geoffrey Bannon] from [Miwla College]. I'm on the search committee for [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest]...

You can guess the rest, eh? I'm on their long short list, and they'd like to set up a telephone interview (for the week after Thanksgiving!). Somehow I need to sleep between now and then.

Rocket and I had a "date" last night. D put the boys to bed. We had planned to have an early dinner, then head out, but as it turned out, we left the house around 8:30 (normal lights out for the boys). Ah well, it was a nice dinner together. We drove to the mall, and looked over movie listings. Nothing really caught our fancy, so we walked, and sat, and talked. We like doing that.

One thing we decided was... where we're going to move (at least the rather narrow region). It's really an oblong rhomboid defined by the location of three airports, and the highways connecting them, centered on a small lake not too far from Lake Michigan. Miwla College lies on the southwestern corner of the rhomboid. Somewhere in that region will be home to us for the next 3-5 years at least.

Okay, I'm still excited about this post, and feeling rather elated that they called. The funny thing is, I'm split down the middle as to whether getting the post would be better or not getting it. But they called. That's validation, to some extent. I had been saying to Rocket, if they don't call, there's something wrong with them. I know the strength of my letter (Lilian, Rocket, feel free to chime in here!). For the first time in ~150 applications, I've been able to tear off the mask and just say, Hi, it's me, look, see, I'm just right for you guys.

But, I'll be fine -- we'll be fine if it doesn't pan out. It's really good to have made the decisions about where and when. Nicely, Miwla College would fit. Either way, I'm ready to make a splash. Waiting to hear back from my programmers, though.

I got an email from one of them yesterday, with a (badly worded) 7-page legalistic document intended to be our hiring agreement. Um... no, I wrote.

Here's my principal concern: I have no intention to sign any agreement that supersedes or annuls protections to my own intellectual property. My expectation is a work-for-hire agreement between the two of you and me (since the three of us are the only parties to the confidentiality agreement). As such, the software that you produce and provide to me in accordance with the specifications and scenario documents, any other related documents, emails, and discussions, is the property of [Research Firm]. That is, the product in the form of software you produce is the item I'm purchasing from you as per our agreement.

They have some real concerns. They want to make sure that they will get paid fairly, and in accord with my promise to them. And, they want to ensure that should they come up with ideas that expand the work, they'll get credit (and benefit) from that. Fair enough. But, for now, the relationship is an asymmetrical one. I think of it like owning a catering business. I provide the menu and the recipes, and I hire contractors to serve as chef, executing the meal according to my specifications. Their knowledge entails the execution. But I own the recipes and the menu. Should they come up with a novel recipe, great... we'll talk about it then. Meantime...

So, I await their reply. Either way, I'm moving ahead. If I need to learn another programming language, and write the code myself, I will. I'm actually feeling on top of the world. Trick is not to let that confidence produce arrogance. I'd rather hire these programmers to help translate my algorithms into executable code. But, not at the expense of my intellectual property.

The same counts for Miwla College. I am confident, and believe I have much to offer them. But then, I need to work against that confidence coming across too strong to them.

Well, I've work to do. Whatever the next few weeks deliver, that work will be done.

***Updated to say***
I just got an email from my programmers. We've got a conference call set up for tomorrow afternoon. I hope this will all go well, resolving their concerns, and mine.

Entrepreneurial guidance for PhDs

Lemon University happens to have a highly rated program in entrepreneurship. I know because I had hoped there'd be benefits available to me, like tuition waivers. (Apparently, there are such waivers for adjuncts, but not available to newbies). I had thought I might enroll myself in some courses on the subject. I browsed through the text books they use in the bookstore, picked up a paperback, and checked out a couple books from the library.

What I came to realize is that entrepreneurship is mostly viewed as a vocation, like restaurateur, hotelier, bus driver. Most business books are disappointingly vague, and full of filler (like a bad undergraduate essay). I had been reading the volume "The Answer to How is Yes" thinking it a great image. Yes. Yes! And, though there are (ever so randomly) an occasionally pithy remark by the author, so much of the work is overwritten, and generic. But then, who'd pay $16 for a 15-page tract (likely the real length it ought to be).

I've been thumbing through "The Entrepreneurial Journey" (ISBN 0-324-17688-0) While you find sentences like "Successful entrepreneurs do things they love and for which they have a great passion," these are quickly followed up with passages that discuss the sorts of businesses each personality is best suited for. The emphasis is on how you might run your business, not on how you create a business from those passions just referred to.

The conclusion I draw is that entrepreneurship is seen as the work of business folk, not the work of researchers. But then, that simply couldn't be the whole picture. The point I make is that there appears to be little guidance out here for the motivated entrepreneurial researcher. I think of my experience and expectations in graduate school.

I never once considered the possibility that I'd be three years out from my PhD without a solid and established affiliation with a university. I never once considered it. So, all of the talks and workshops and resources that university staffers may have made available to me as a graduate student (and they did, I admit) regarding alternative careers made not a dent into my consciousness. And for most of the ensuing period, I have kept expecting that it would all work out. I wish I knew how those staffers might attract interest from those students who'd best benefit, how they might couch their information in terms that don't seem like failure ("alternative career"... you know, for those who just can't make it).

Finally, about a year ago, I hired a career and life coach, to help me break out of my rut. We met for about 4 months. It helped. I don't know if there are any other entrepreneurial-minded readers of this blog. I wish I knew of more resources available to me, guidance from those who've succeeded from similar origins. Entrepreneurship (like much of research) is a solitary and isolating activity. I wish I could find a community of like-minded folk, to help break the isolation.

Health coverage

Here's a quick question out to anyone who might know: what is a reasonable expectation for a new faculty member in regards to family health benefits?

I'm assuming most institutions would provide access to health coverage for spouses and children. But what would that look like? We're trying to make some calculations regarding costs, and I'd like to be able to compare a reasonable expectation of what coverage might be under a faculty plan to what it might cost us on our own.

Any ideas?

Where passions lead

The term is winding down. The students attend in reducing numbers. Open laptops (and blank stares) populate the room. Today was a rather animated lecture. I try. There are certainly aspects of it that I enjoy. I like the captive audience. I like to share my knowledge and experience with students. That's fun. And it's meaningful. I tell them that class is not about the details that they learn, though surely it is about those things in part. And I believe what I say. It is about learning how to think, about learning how to learn, about learning how to apply their knowledge in myriad domains.

Teaching does have an impact on students. It is a worthy enterprise. And yet... I truly believe that my research, and its applications will have far greater mileage, far wider impact on society, than I will just through my teaching. Sour grapes perhaps. I've mostly been denied the chance to teach. But I'm walking away from adjuncting at Lemon at the end of this term. My choice. I enjoy teaching. I disdain the treatment of adjuncts. But to be honest, it's more than that.

I'm making choices about my life. My passions lead me back to my research. We'll see about this [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest]. I expect to hear in the next couple weeks, if they choose to interview me. I'll make that decision if it becomes mine to make. And I'll make it on the basis of what I gain through the interview process, should it go any further than now. And I'll make it with my wife on the basis of what's best for our family.

But (today)... I think that's it. I'm not sure I have it in me to apply any more for faculty gigs. I'm not sure it's what I want. We're lucky, very lucky. We've money in the bank. We've got investments whose recent downturn I can fret over. I look at losses in small-cap investments (little firms, that represent someone's passion, their dreams corporeal). And I realize--how ironic--the small firm I'd really like to invest in, is my own.

Oh, we're not rich. Not really. But we're comfortable. We're comfortable enough for Rocket to walk away from her lucrative career. With some luck and pluck, we've got enough to sustain us (in a far less expensive area) for a couple years. We'll be eating up our savings. But it's an investment. (That's what they told me about an education, about a college degree. That's what I took all those damned student loans for.)

But this is different. This is an investment in me. This is an investment in my family, in our passions, our hopes, our dreams. This is an investment in something I believe in, something I can dedicate myself to. This is something about which the question "would you do it for free" is no longer hypothetical. I do do it for free.

I'm taking the chance. I'm no longer asking for it.

The feeding of despair

or Why Thanksgiving couldn't come soon enough.

I have often noted convergences in my life. These aren't mystical events. They have more to do with one's own consciousness, one's own awareness of the world around. But, for me, they serve the function of validating me on a particular course.

I heard a news report the other day, about a bird native to South America being discovered (2000 miles away) in the very town where [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest] is. Convergence. That's what I mean. Years ago, when my mother bought an AMC Pacer, I had never heard of them before. But suddenly, after she brought it home, I saw them everywhere. Convergence.

Of course, convergences can be neutral in their impact, or even negative. When I'm feeling particularly down or grouchy, then what I hear and see is interpreted through the fog of this lens.

I hear a news report on NPR about South Carolina voters' reactions to Mitt Romney's faith, and my heart races with the absurdities they spout. "It's not a Biblical-based, Judeo-Christian religion. It's a cult." "In addition to the Bible, they believe in another book." Do these people simply not hear themselves? Are they so unaware of the irony of one true believer assaulting the faith of another because, gasp, they believe in something different? It breaks my heart. More importantly, it scares me.

I hear about the happenings in Pakistan, and I shudder. I shudder to read news stories that refer without qualifications to Musharraf as "President" or to his hand-picked, anointed Attorney General or his allegiance-swearing Supreme Court, as if they have any moral authority or legitimacy. I hear about the current crackdowns in Iran on such ungodly things as makeup, and unapproved films. And the continuing conditions in Darfur and Iraq. These are convergences to me that the world has gone insane.

And yet, so far, these things do not touch my daily life. I'm still free to fret over the treatment of adjuncts at U.S. universities (knowing full well that this treatment would be a godsend to most of the world's population). But then, I've never thought it makes much sense to justify impropriety by comparing it to even worse improprieties. The world ought to be a better place.

Tikkun Olam. We have work to do.

Bad, bad adjunct

You know, I looked. There is no policy. Of course not, why would there be any reasonable policies regarding the invisible 55% of the faculty. Yeah, you read right! 55% of the faculty at Lemon are part-timers, with no benefits, no job security, and low wages.

But, you see, there's no policy on sick leave or faculty absences from class (for adjuncts). I even called to ask. They don't know. So, my department secretary agreed to put a sign on the door. I've been grading away, and prepping. But I just really don't feel up to going today. Yesterday I nearly lost my voice in class. I've been feeling lousy for a while. Is it really a crime to take a day to recuperate?

I thought of finishing grading the tests, then driving the two hour Wednesday late-afternoon commute, handing them back, collecting their projects due before Thanksgiving (this is the last class meeting before then), then begging off from the lecture, and driving the 1 1/2 hours back. That is, I considered expending the next six hours or so to keep up appearances. But how silly that would be. The students would gain so little from my showing up, then leaving without a class session. I'm really not up to giving a lecture. So, what's the point? They can email me for their grades. They can send electronic version of their projects, or drop off hard copies at the department before next Wednesday.

You know, most people wouldn't ever feel guilty about legitimately calling in sick one day. Why do teachers?

Pakistan's Musharraf: let's get this straight

No, Mr. Bush, Musharraf is not and has never been an ally of the United States. He is a dictator. He is not a freely elected democratic leader. He has suspended Pakistan's own constitution. He has thrown out the judiciary (a judiciary that was at the moment considering the legality of his having most recently stood for election as President, while holding office that he obtained through a coup!). He sent one opposition leader, Nawaz Sharif, back into exile, despite the ruling by Pakistan's Supreme Court that he had an inalienable right to return.

Apparently, over the past several months, the U.S. government had worked to broker a power sharing deal between Musharraf and another opposition leader, Benazir Bhutto, who was allowed to return (though suspiciously street lights were out just before a suicide bomber nearly succeeded in her assassination). Was it a setup? Was it hoped she would be killed, as a pretense for a state of emergency that has been declared in any case? Was she foolish in thinking it proper to share power with such a man? Probably. Now at least she has put aside that foolishness.

No, President (how it pains me to use that title for you) Bush, Musharraf is not an ally and friend. He is a pathetic (and dangerous) opportunist. Do not forget that it was under his government that A.Q. Khan sold nuclear secrets to North Korea, Libya, and Iran. It was Musharraf personally who pardoned him the very next day! This is no friend and ally. Have we learned nothing from the past failures of American foreign policy?

To be clear: the United States should never treat the likes of Musharraf as friends. If necessary, we may treat them (with cautious suspicion) as strategic interests.

Three years down. Only way is up!

March of 2005, I sent the final version of my dissertation to my four committee members, scattered to the four corners of the country. With a bit of harranguing, logistical coordination, and trepidation (in the meantime moving my family from Colorado back to California) I received all the signatures on the same one cover sheet, and filed the work in time to graduate at the end of the Spring term 2005. The chair of my former department agreed begrudgingly to hood me (incorrectly!) in the ceremony that gave me a PhD, three letters to follow my name as needed, and the "Dr." title, so far used sparingly.

That ended my first season of applying for faculty jobs, still optimistic (hard not to be when my first campus interview occurred in October before I finished the dissertation). No jobs in hand, but a Visiting Scholar appointment in a second department at my alma mater. What ensued is largely chronicled in my old blog. I sought and suffered, stressed, and angered. I lamented, and withdrew. And I applied... one job posting after another. All told, in the past three years, I've applied for ~150 jobs mostly in academia (a few related).

This week has been a strange one for me. Today marks 7 days since the interdisciplinary post of interest closed. They asked for 3 references. I had 6 sent. Six letters, from faculty at at four institutions, covering at least three distinct fields of study, all of which I expect to be glowing. While I sent another application a few days ago for a position in [Field 1/subfield 1], the ostensible area of my degree, it was half-hearted.

As I wrote to my wife at the time:

Nothing much new under the sun. I sent off my application to [Institution]. I felt a distinct lack of enthusiasm in preparing it. I went through the motions, and did my best. Deadline is Thursday. I figured it's now or never. I figured it's better to apply though than to simply let this one go. There are certainly benefits to the post. It's not much teaching (2+2). There's some interest in [true subfield]. The pay is decent, and it might be a good place for us to live.

Part of me is ready to gamble on [interdisciplinary post of interest ("come on red 19") or walk out of the casino, throw a dart at the map, and catch the next train. Partly there's a bitterness from my recent experience at Lemon (perhaps not fair to paint all of academia with that brush), and the residue from the past three years of supplication. I'm done with being prostrate. It's time to stand tall again. ...

I'm committed to Lemon until around the third week in December (grades due by the 23rd). You're at work for about another month after that. I guess there's no need for us to decide on our landing spot until the Spring. I'll have to decide about whether I'm going to send any January applications if [Interdisciplinary post] fails. But then, I'd be terribly disappointed, and much less enthusiastic. I'm less and less interested in keeping my eyes open, less and less clear on what an ideal post might look like.

I think of my comment on Tracy's blog, re: "success" being the harder course. What would be success, right now? It's harder and harder to see a faculty post that eats up all my time and energy as really succeeding. I've been neglecting [my Research Firm] for over a month now, and it still seems like where I want to invest myself.

Trust with me! "Your money or your life." "Do what you love and the money will follow."

Money, money, money. It's not about that really. It's about freedom of choice, and about following our passions. It's about setting our priorities, and living by them. We've already decided to walk away from Rocket's high income, and to leave these expensive and inhospitable parts. The deadlines are coming due. But now I'm the one who's setting them.

Yesterday, I sent off a note to my two programmers, saying I know you were planning to send me a proposal, and some feedback on my specifications documents, and such... here's what I propose: [details]. Let me know if those terms are acceptable to you. I'd like to get this project going ASAP. As of December, it is my entire focus.

They wrote me back: terms accepted; they're ready to go!

As I wrote a few days ago, I am ready!

Harder than it looks

Partly in response to the prodding of Geeky Mom's recent blog post on technology and the classroom, I tried an experiment tonight in my lecture class. It's big (37 students), but not too big to be adventurous. First, I had several of the students look up and play on their laptops the recent video, "A Vision of Students Today" on YouTube, and we had a brief discussion of it. Then, I decided to have an experiential day, where the students would teach each other the material, rather than my normal lecture. I broke the class into 8 groups, with each group responsible to cover one section of our reading. They had about 20 minutes to review their section and discuss it within the group. (This is a three hour lecture, so I could afford the time). The idea was if they took more ownership of the material, it might be instructive to them, and give them a better focus in approaching their reading.

What I learned (rather important to be reminded of, given the circumstances) is that it takes a bit more than simply reading and summarizing to make a good lecture. I, being who I am (luckily for the students, I'm sure) chimed in repeatedly, to clarify ideas, and to guide the discussion toward what struck me as important or pithy points. It really is a lot harder than it looks. I suppose even when we feel impostor syndrome the most, we're bringing a lot more to the table than simply staying a step ahead of the students on material. It's always good to be reminded of that.

Learning to teach

Part of the frustration with adjuncting (and I suppose with many faculty jobs these days) is the need to learn something new in order to teach it. It's not that I am in principle opposed to lifelong learning (to the contrary). But there is something false in a teacher keeping one or two steps ahead of the students. There's something inappropriate about being hired to teach a course I am not expert in, when there are so many experts in the subject who could teach it.

My Wednesday night class is of this sort. I've never taught it before (a fact which was well-known to the committee that hired me). Sure, I have a knowledge base to draw from, and astute comments to add to the discussion, metaphors and illumination to contribute to the readings. But I tire of the effort to produce a lecture from material that is unfamiliar to me. At least, because my interests and my heart lead me elsewhere just now.

But why do they hire a non-expert? Because the priorities are skewed. Class sizes should be smaller. More courses should be offered. More faculty should be hired. Those best able to teach a subject should be used whenever possible. The sad thing is that my leaving will have no effect on this state of affairs, so long as there is someone else willing to step in and fill my shoes.

White (chicken) risotto

Last night's dinner, inspired by the presence of white asparagus at the grocery store:

White Chicken Risotto

One medium onion, diced.
1/2 cup of celery, diced.
1-2 cups of white button mushrooms, quartered.
~ 3/4 lb of chicken meat, cubed.
1/2 lb of white asparagus, cut into 2" parts.
1/2 cup marinated artichoke hearts.
2 cups arborio (or other short-grained) rice.
1/4-1/2 tsp of saffron, chopped.
dash or two of white pepper.
~ 4 cups chicken (or vegetable) stock.
1/2 cup cream or half-and-half.
1/4-1/2 cup of grated parmesan cheese.

Precook the rice in 2 cups of water, until all the water is absorbed (about 15-20 minutes). Partly steam the asparagus. Meantime, saute up the onions and celery in some olive oil or butter. Add white pepper to taste. Stir in the chicken cubes, and lightly brown. Add the rice, and stir for 2-4 minutes. Add the mushrooms, and gently stir another minute or two. Add the saffron to the mix and stir. Slowly stir in the stock, 1/2-1 cup at a time. Add the asparagus and artichokes. Gently stir. Cook over medium-low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. Just before serving, mix in the cream and parmesan cheese, stir over medium heat for 1-2 minutes. Remove from heat.

The nice thing about an all-white meal (served in this case on "movie night" with dim lighting) is that it forestalls most questions from young boys about what's in the meal. It's just stuff.

Density (as told to a five year old)

In response to Mommazen's discussion of "teachable moments" in parenting, I think of my trip this morning to drop off the Painter at kindergarten. A delightful morning greeted us, with grey skies and heavy drops of moisture on the grass, the ground, and the car. (Recall the recent awful wildfires here. Grey skies and rain are heaven sent!)

Me: They call this dew. When the moisture in the air condenses on cold mornings, we call it dew.

Painter: [Looking at me intently, as he gets in his car seat].

Me: See... um... on cold mornings... let's see. When it's cold outside, the moisture in the air condenses, the moisture in the air, that's in the form of a gas, becomes a liquid, water... and since water is denser than air it forms on the ground and surfaces like the top of the car. See, everything in the world is made up of atoms.

Painter: [Amazingly, still intently listening at this point, as I fumble to clarify my own somewhat vague understanding, trying to remember my undergraduate paper on the topic of "caloric".]

Me: Atoms are these little tiny particles, they're so small you can't see them, except with a microscope. We call them microscopic. So everything is made up of these tiny atoms, and well, when the temperature is warmer, they're further apart and moving faster. But when the temperature is lower, these atoms move closer together, and become denser. [Desperately trying to figure out whether temperature is the cause or the result of this state of affairs. Remembering that the 18th century theory of caloric as a substance certainly served to simplify this question.]

Painter: What's that mean?

Me: Density?

Painter: Yeah.

Me: Um... okay, some things are heavier than other things, right?

Painter: Yeah.

Me: Well, some things that are even the same size, can have different weights.

Painter: No... I think everything that's the same size weighs the same thing.

Me: Okay, well, have you ever picked up a crumpled ball of paper? [Knowing of course that he has.]

Painter: No.

Me: Have you ever picked up a rock?

Painter: Yeah.

Me: Have you ever picked up a leaf that was the same size as a rock?

Painter: No.

Me: [So he's going to be difficult.] Alright, have you ever picked up a ball? Like a tennis ball?

Painter: Yeah.

Me: Have you ever picked up an orange?

Painter: Yeah.

Me: Well, an orange is about the same size as a tennis ball. Which one is heavier?

Painter: The orange could be bigger.

Me: Well, we can weigh them this afternoon, on my kitchen scale, or on the scale we made with the board to weigh the weights outside. [Thinking until we get into the parking spot.] Ah... here's one that you can't dispute. Let's say I give you an empty water bottle.

Painter: Okay.

Me: Now I give you another water bottle, filled with water. Do you think they'll weigh the same?

Painter: [laughing] No! I think the water bottle with the water would be a lot heavier.

Me: You're right... see, they're the same size, but the empty water bottle isn't really empty. It's full of air. And water is a lot denser than air. So that's density.

Painter: So... you mean nothing's ever empty? There's always air?

Me: Yeah, nothing on the earth is ever really empty. Well, unless it's in a vacuum... [Very glad that we're almost to the classroom now.]

Fun. But I wonder how soon he'll outgrow my explanations?