Bringer of Candy

Back in December I wrote about an opportunity to partner with a local campus and the tech transfer office of the state university. It's been progressing. The latest was gaining approval from the campus administration ("Oh... the Chancellor says 'hi', she remembers you, and is excited to be partnering with you ...") and putting together the details of the proposal: objectives, milestones, budget. That should all be submitted by them to the funding agency next week. There's a bit of fire under their feet as the state budget process is looking to make cuts, so spending pre-allocated money hastily is one way to ward off the butcher's cleaver.

I'm in the unaccustomed position of creating a new post-doc position at a university, with good pay and benefits, to work on a project that promises to be engaging, for which I would have been eager to apply for a few years ago. It is distinctly odd to be a party of repute, when in my mind there's little difference between who I am today, and that invisible, nameless, faceless post-doc I was a few years ago (albeit on different campuses).

I'm also planning to hire one new full-time researcher, and a couple part-time interns in-house. One of my current researchers is interested in applying for the post-doc, meaning I may have to replace her on the staff as well. To her, I must appear as the bringer of candy, strewing sweets before her, that she can gather up. At least that would have been my image of someone writing a position description that could be just for me.

There's no telling whether the company will continue to grow, whether I'll be able to sustain the research, creating jobs, delivering on our promises, and making a profit, all the while doing something useful and beneficial to society. I'm cautiously optimistic. The work is difficult and challenging. But quite a thrill to be doing, and rather surprising at times to be leading.

All in all, I'm still here, despite the frequent and enduring silences.

The Other Side

Earlier this week, I had a meeting with the director of the tech transfer office for the state university system. The meeting was facilitated by the small business coordinator of a local state university campus. Apparently, there is a relatively new state program providing funds to support partnerships between small companies and university campuses. They're proposing to fund one or two post-docs to be assigned exclusively to my firm, for collaborative projects. My company would retain rights to any technologies or products that we jointly develop, with a rather generous cut of the proceeds (far better terms than a professor would get).

I'm just floored. I feel pampered and encouraged and wonderful. When I set out, and trudged on, and wilted on the faculty job search, I couldn't have dreamed I'd be where I am now, receiving this kind of attention and support. Maybe it's in part the result of having proven something, simply through perseverance. But I can't help but wonder why the system is so designed for famine and feast.

To be honest, while I'm quite content just now, I'd gladly give up ninety percent of the support and encouragement if I could be assured it'd be spread out among those equally worthy but ignored post-docs and adjuncts among whose ranks I toiled for a time. At the moment I am the beneficiary of largess, but the unfairness of the process is not lost on me. Someday I may again be cast aside, as easily as I am now lauded. I endeavor to retain grace and dignity should that occur, and I hope for the courage to foster and sustain those who find themselves in that state, while I bask in the glow of success.

I'm heading to the state capital next week to serve on an advisory committee for small businesses. I hope to raise some of these issues in an effort to provide opportunties for those many who could benefit from a similar path to the one I've taken, without so many of the bumps and bruises.

Milestone

As of this morning, Rocket & I are completely free of student loans! With a combined age of 80, you'd think it's about time!

Don't Believe Everything You Read

Earlier in the week, my company was profiled (along with a couple thousand others), in one of the nation's (remaining) major newspapers, as part of an implicitly nefarious national intelligence build-up. It seems to these reporters anything even remotely linked to the intelligence community, has been broad-brushed into a dangerously out-of-control post-9/11 top secret fourth tier of government.

Um... you know, my office faces a main drag in a blue-collar midwestern town, with large glass windows, and the logo prominetly emblazoned on its front. We've got a website that while not giving away trade secrets, makes no effort to hide what we're up to. And despite the seemingly widespread belief among locals, we're not really spies.

The irony of it all is that after years of trying to safely land in academia, I finally found a mechanism via government grants and contracts that funds seed-stage basic research with an eye toward commercialization. The secret to me was that academics are simply not well-informed of the possibilities to engage in basic and applied research beyond the confines and constraints of academic institutions.

I think back to an exchange I had about four years ago with a research professor at a major East Coast U.S. institution, who essentially poo-pooed my suggestion that a lowly recent PhD might have ideas worthy of independent funding. The sad thing is, I believed it, until two years ago when my eyes were opened to the opportunities available to for-profit small businesses (even those that existed only as a lone researcher with untethered ideas and a lot of pluck).

And so, I've proven one of my favorite adages: everyone who got where they are started where they were. My former interlocutor, Karl-Heinz was wrong. At least to some who fund research, innovative ideas and the ability and willingness to pursue them to their logical ends, at the end of the day is really more significant that having convinced an old boys' network to let you play on their field.

If this sounds a bit like sour grapes, so be it. Today, where I am, pursuing my research passions, creating jobs, outside of academia... I couldn't be happier!

Closing a Chapter

We've been working on purging our house, making more room. We won't be getting a new au pair next year. Our current one departs in October. RocketMom is still working for my firm part-time, about 8-10 hours a week. She's getting a new laptop next week, to facilitate more working at home. We really don't need full-time childcare. Yes, we're home schooling, but the boys are mostly self-directed in that regard. We plan to hire some part-time help to cover the hours Rocket is in the office, some time for her to get away and be herself during the day, and some time at night or weekends to cover for both of us so we can have a date every so often.

We'll be reclaiming one small bedroom once M leaves. We've been listing things on Craigslist and Freecycle: a weight bench; a second mixer, a couple old kitchen cabinets. We're thinking of unloading our piano (the first piece of furniture we bought together), and getting a smaller electronic keyboard. In the dining room there are still two large bookcases covering an entire wall, that hadn't anywhere else to go. They cramp the space, and are less than half used at the moment. Over the years, we've discarded, sold, given away, or donated, on the order of 500-1000 books. One (even larger) bookcase remains upstairs in the hallway, packed to overflowing. I've got a full bookcase at my office with just about everything related to my present vocation. There are also several large filing cabinets with articles and documents, as well as personal materials.

So, I was revisiting a bottom shelf of one of the large dining room book cases, filled with music: scores, xeroxes, handwritten manuscripts. About 60% now rests in a pile a couple feet high or so, to be donated, discarded, sold, or given away. I . am. no. longer... I... I am... I am no longer a singer! at least not professionally, at least not for a career. There I said it. It's done.

That was... difficult! More difficult than what follows, which to you who have been reading is not news: I am no longer an academic... at least not for now... not for the foreseeable future. What need do I have for obscure bits of music, that I don't plan to sing, or write about? None is what I concluded... and so they stand in a stack two feet high, awaiting another residence.

Values

What is it I value? Most of all: freedom, independence, respect. I think of Emerson's urging toward self-reliance.

I cook my own food, as much as possible from scratch. I tend a garden to provide fresh fruits and vegetables. I pickle my own cucumbers and cabbage, jar my own jams.

At present, I have budgetted to pay off our remaining $30,000 in student loans within the year. We own our car and our van. Our credit cards are paid off each month.

And yet, I am not quite free. I fantasize about opening a bagel shop with my family. What is it I'm running away from?

Work provides me with respect these days. It is exhilirating to pursue my own ideas to their logical ends. Sure, part of me laments that by rights I should still be an academic, with leisure to consider odd avenues of thought, contemplate how they fit into the jigsaw puzzle of problems and solutions, without the constant worry over where our next revenues will come from when the present projects end.

But then, I am happy where I am; happier most likely than I would have been. There is something challenging and positive in the need to focus on practical applications and the short fuse of funding that keeps us just that much on edge.

Yet, I still depend on others. Both for funding and for labor. At times the need for oversight and supervision is oppressing, time consuming, exhausting. But then, I don't really wish to do it all myself. There is drudgery and tedium in getting to an end. I welcome the company along the way. And I trust and hope that my degree of involvement in their work will diminish over time.

I hope!

Easy Syndrome

Throughout my life, I have often discounted whatever came easy to me, as unworthy or value-less. These days my mind begins to wander. I fantasize about herding sheep in New Zealand. It's not that the technology itself is easy, nor that I've solved the bulk of the difficult parts. Not even close. There's work there to be done for decades.

But I feel a bit like my gradeschool self wondering why the teacher wants us to endlessly repeat the tasks we've already mastered. Yes, I know how to multiply 4x3... and 3x4, and 12x8, and 6X9, and 33X627... and. What more will I learn by doing it again, with ceaseless variations?

I realize to keep going in my business, I'll need to prepare and submit more grant and contract proposals, and negotiate collaborations and sales in the commercial arena, and I'll need to hire more staff. It's all still very early stage. Part of me still resents the summary dismissal I received from the Academy, because fundamental research is exceedingly difficult to conduct on a for-profit basis.

My problem is Easy Syndrome is part striving for novelty and challenge, part laziness. It's work to prepare proposals, and keep justifying the worthiness of our efforts, preparing demonstrations that give enough of a taste of the potential of the work to keep others interested.

It's a lot like auditions. No matter how well you performed in your last show, you're starting over, once it's done. Haven't I proven myself already? Do I have to do it again?

Truth is, yes... I do. And so... the green hills of New Zealand seem oh so appealing.

Some Days

... and today is one of them.

Nothing in particular... well, the computer acting up is one of them. I think I really need to "rebuild" my computer, but it's so much work to backup and migrate everything, and reinstall all the software. Yeah, I've got an IT assistant whom I pay to do that sort of thing. But my life is on that computer, at least big parts of it. I've got to be sure I have access to everything while the rebuild takes place.

Lots of little things accumulating and conspiring against my contentedness: One employee on medical leave; a second still learning; a contract lead who's less than clear on what he wants, and seems intent on asking us to work on areas of research far from our expertise and distant from what he originally asked for and what we proposed to accomplish; hardware that won't quite do what we expect it to; children who are a bit too hard to deal with at the moment.

Funny thing, all I really want is the freedom to pursue my research, to put my mind and talents to their best use. Damn the Academy for denying me those opportunities where I thought I should expect them; damn myself for the stubbornness to pursue them against the tide of circumstance.

Ha! I guess I make myself laugh too. My three boys at the moment and chasing each other in circles. Pitter patter pitter patter pitter patter. It's been rainy. They're happy at least, not fighting. Far worse things than that.

As life is. At the end of the week or early next week, I'll have in place a line of credit from my business bank. Good thing too. I haven't been able to pay myself since December. I've got about 7 or 8 checks piled up in a drawer awaiting my ability to cash them. The first two invoices (one on each contract) are awaiting payment, and a third should be submitted this week. It'll be a couple months until I catch up. But I will.

The tax accountant has been slow in finalizing our filings. I've had to draw from savings to cover the expected payments. Yes, far worse things than having to pay taxes, and having the savings to draw from.

Life's pretty good I know it. It's just been one of those days.

Boss

Nearly two weeks down as boss. I'm really enjoying having a fuller staff (and especially knowing that I just may add another one or two employees before the end of the year). It feels so good to be creating jobs, and seeing my employees motivated and inspired by the work.

I'm getting more settled into delegating tasks, and welcoming the benefits and delights of bringing out the talents of others. I've been marinated in administrivia for what seems like the past year, getting ready for these two contracts. And now, they are upon me.

There's still a transition going on. But I'm getting back into the research more and more, which is such a delight! I realize, as I train and explain, that there is a reason I'm in charge.

I didn't go about it the traditional way. I seemed patently incapable of landing a tenure-track faculty post. Yet, today, I've got my grad students and post-docs. I've got cutting edge, challenging, and extraordinarily rewarding research. And I've got what looks to be two to three years of stability.

What an absolute joy to be here!

...and what sort of entrepreneur are we?

So many thoughts rush upon me. As is my practice, I'll just commence writing, then sort it all out. But, let me first say that the Armenian stuffed peppers I just served for dinner last night were a success.

There are a few triggers to my feelings these days:

• My friend Trillwing is anxiously awaiting word re: a campus interview just received an offer of employment for a t-t job, years after taking a somewhat-tenuous staff position.


• My friend BrightStar has been reflecting on the plight of highly qualified, talented, and capable PhDs seeking jobs on the tenure track.


• My friend Mamae in Translation is dealing with the liminality of her husband's career and her own state as recent PhD/mother/expat/seeker.


• A friend from real life (whom I'm coaching informally) is struggling with a decision to shirk off a rather unsatisfying career as a public school math teacher, and wondering where it will land him.


• And finally, the beginning of my transition from lone researcher with some funding, to owner and director of a research firm with a staff of five, and two funded projects to sustain us for a couple years.

By necessity, I consider my state, test the wind, and wonder what range of freedom I embrace as I set the sails for a new journey. Next week, I fly to meet with my agency technical lead for a new project on a contract I've just received. I wonder at just what he'll expect me to deliver, and whether he'll be satisfied with my proposed approach. What a world of difference, to muse that if I lost the $70,000 this "little" contract represents, I'd be fine any way.

I have now an income easily more than twice what I might have expected (and been happy with) as a freshly hired assistant professor just two or three years ago. I have every reason to believe that this state is secure for at least the next two years (not too different from what I might have expected pre-tenure). I am, on my own, responsible for hiring and supervising a handful of employees, paying them what is in line with reasonable expectations, especially considering that the cost of living here is 15% below the national average.

Truth be told, my commitments are to my research more than to any salary, they are to my family more than any particular career path. Part of me wonders if I too hastily dropped out of the academic race, whether I might not have gotten a tenure-track offer somewhere somewhen.

But I forget how happy I am, how free I am to pursue my own research, how much better compensated I am, how I am able to decide where I live and when or if I'll move, and how much control I have over all those factors. I forget how many committee meetings I don't have sit in on, how I can avoid the worries over tenure, how if a coworker rubs me the wrong way, I have the power to redress it.

Sure, the life of an entrepreneur isn't free of worries. I worry about the path this venture will take. I struggle with a vision for the business, not just the challenges of research for its own sake. I work to balance exciting and meaningful research with the need to produce saleable products. So far, I avoid the draw of seeking outside investment. I fear that an investor with money to put in may be primarily concerned with taking money out. But how long can I sustain this on my own? How long will I be able to attract R&D funding?

But these new worries are my own. I own them with my very being. I am myself, more wholly than ever I was in academia. And here too I am an outsider. Happily enough so!

Transformation

Yesterday, I had the task of deciding and informing a candidate that the fit just wasn't right. I found it entirely unpleasant an experience, even if an educational one. There I was on the phone with a very nice fellow, intelligent, capable. But it wasn't right.

How many times was I the receiver of that information? It doesn't make it easier.

Yesterday, I also received a call that the contract offer for my new project had been approved. I was sent the offerer's "position" for acceptance, because they had to make some modifications, to accomodate an additional cost item they were asking for. Their modification came in the form of a reduction of budgetted hours.

I have no objection because I'll likely be able to realize some cost savings elsewhere, without having to compromise the hours needed to accomplish the tasks. For one, I have accepted offers from two new hires, at a slightly lower pay scale than I had budgetted for (assuming I might need to negotiate with them). Those two employees are starting in about a month. One more full-time position remains open.

This contract is structured, unlike the two-year, as a fixed price contract, meaning I invoice based on the work accomplished rather than my expenses. So it all works out in the wash. I expect the contract itself this afternoon for my signature.

I expect the big two-year contract to arrive within the next two to three weeks. As far as I understand, everything has been approved. We're just waiting for the various signatures and processing to take place before the final draft is presented to me.

I'm ready for the transformation, if but a bit apprehensive about the changes. A few years ago, I was salivating over a possible dean's post at a community college, which there was a snowball's chance in hell I'd get. Now what I've got, in just about all measurable terms, exceeds what that position had to offer.

I wrote then about how it might side-track me from my mid-term goals. Now I've met them. I looked at that pay scale then as all but unattainable. Now I've exceeded it. I worried about being a manager. Now, I'm not only the manager, but the chief executive.

But the real transformation is about to begin. I crawled into this cocoon a caterpillar. The next two years will see if this butter can fly.

More Interviews, More Life

I was saying the other night to RocketMom that my professional life today is better than I imagined when I entered graduate school, better even than I imagined when I completed the PhD. I thought I'd go to school, write my dissertation, marking off some niche of research interests, present my conference papers, publish some articles, a couple books; I'd get a professorship somewhere, moving up the ranks from Assistant to Associate, maybe Full Professor some day, possibly Chair or Dean; I'd teach my requisite 2 or 3 classes per term, sit on a few (too many) committees; advise students (sometimes invigorating, sometimes depressing); and continue on, adding interests, classes, or assignments here or there, dropping those that fail to hold my (or others') attention.

But here, now... I'm free, and involved. My research projects are self-directed, though with ever an eye to market needs (however that market is defined). What are the real world problems out there that touch on my research interests (there are many!)? Which of those can I bite off and chew? Which of those can I attack and resolve? How can I present my work to convince others to support that research, that I will succeed in the effort? So far I've done a pretty good job at that.

Yesterday, I held my second daylong interviews session. The first one, in November, resulted in one new full-time hire (starting this Spring). Hopefully yesterday's session will result in one or two more new hires. I am decided on an offer to one of them; the second I'm still deliberating over. It's all in my hands. That's a burden, and a pleasure.

We passed through the agency accounting audit with "no major deficiencies" noted. Everything is moving into place; everything is just clicking. I'm no longer really waiting for the bad news to arrive. But I am curious whether it'd even perturb me at this point. It's like having the car you always dreamed of, but understanding that it may get a scratch or a bump now and again.

At a recent entrepreneurship gathering, I developed a new image of my relationship to the business. I used to think of my business as being coterminus with my research. But I decided a better image is that the business is the vehicle I drive to carry me and my research from one location to the next. There may come a time when I outgrow the transport, take my things out of the trunk, and pass it along to a new driver, or the junk yard. For now, the vehicle is quite dandy. I think I can handle a few dents and dings.

You looking for a job?

Are you interested in a full-time faculty position?

Why? Are you hiring?

Well, yes... I mean, we're opening three positions soon, and I thought...

Okay... so this exchange actually happened over the phone, just a little while ago, between me and this Associate Dean for Research whom I was supposed to speak with last week. I said that I was open to discussion. Now, I know well enough to take every exchange like that with more than a grain of salt. Just because someone mentions a position, and their interest in me applying, does not in any way constitute a likelihood that I would even be interviewed, much less offered such a post.

Truth is, my budget for the next couple years has me receiving a salary about 60% higher than they'd likely offer. And, as I pointed out to her, it might be hard for me to take a full-time faculty gig while running my business. To which she suggested maybe I'd be available to teach some classes in any case. But what an odd thing to hear, not in some casual way by a member of a committee whom I'm acquainted with, but from a Dean who's been entrusted to beef up the research faculty. And what an odd place for me to be that I'm not terribly enticed by the prospect.

I'm flattered by the attention, but I honestly don't know how to react.

Emerging Reality

Two years ago, I stood before classrooms of 40 students three days per week, for a paltry $15,000 a year, with no benefits, no office, no job security, and a 10-12 hour a week commute. I begrudgingly resigned, not only from that post, but from the academic job search, which had included about 150 applications over five years. I left... but I had no plan, other than a drive and commitment to find some means to practical applications for my ideas.

During the past two years, I've moved with my wife and three sons from Southern California to the Midwest; bought a house; established two companies (one to conduct R&D; the second to purchase and lease a building as office space to the first); I've received two federal contracts for R&D, been selected to receive a third from a different agency; and am in the administrative holding tank to receive a two year contract on the first project. Yet a third agency is reviewing another project for a federal R&D grant (I've been told that I should hear definitively within the month).

I'm interviewing several parties in the next few weeks, with the intention to hire two or three during the next few months, paying them multiples above what I made as an adjunct, along with generous benefits. And, I'm taking care of myself as well. I didn't set out to become a CEO. I set out to sustain my research, and to render it meaningful and useful beyond the ivory tower. I am on the cusp of doing just that.

Next week, I close on the building. Next month, I will make decisions about new hires. Then, to purchase new computers and equipment, finalize the administrative details of everything, and get back to my work. My heaven is pretty cluttered, full of activity, sprinkled with uncertainty, and sure looks a lot like the world on earth. It's just... a different world than I've been used to.

*** Oh... and by the way, they reopened the post across the sea. I don't think I'll re-apply. I'm a bit busy these days.

So Odd

The applications have been trickling in. Tonight I received my second application from a standing assistant professor. It's so odd to be receiving materials, to be on the hiring end, to get these respectful, deferentially worded letters—Dear Dr. Dad... thank you for the opportunity to apply...)—eager, enthusiastic, hopeful. I remember so well the effort I put in. The one I received tonight shows enormous energy, and impressive credentials.

I wonder how many more I will receive before the deadline in a week and a half. Will I really be able to hire the best? Will I pale in comparison to their accomplishments and potential? How many nearly-best applicants will I have to pass over, simply because I haven't the funds (like so many departments) to hire more? Will what I have to offer them actually satisfy? I thought I'd be vetting unemployed PhDs, those like me who've spent inordinate effort for nothing. But I've yet to receive an application from that sort. Either they've just finished or are about to finish their doctorate (in one case, only a Bachelor's degree), or they're already Assistant Professors. Where are the mes of the world?

I've created the post I was looking for. But I'm no longer applying; I'm the boss. How odd. How truly odd. And the chickens are not yet home to roost. Something could always fall through. The two year contract may be delayed, or fail to get finalized. I don't expect it (at this point it's highly improbable), but I've grown leery of overconfidence, and I've gained a rooted sense of pragmatism. I know that whatever occurs, I'll be fine. The boost in my confidence and the validation of my research that I've gotten over the past couple years is enough to sustain me for quite a while.

Even in the worst case, however, we won't lose our house. I'd still be able to cover the mortgage on the new office building downtown for a couple years. I worry about those hopefuls whom I'd be forced to disappoint, the ones who by right I ought to hire, whom to be honest I would be thrilled and honored to work beside.

I remain confident that things will continue to progress. I have this second project commencing in the next couple months. I have transitional funding from my first project through the end of the year. And the two-year follow on contract remains only a few (albethey significant) formalities away.

If all goes well, I will be hiring some of the choice candidates in the coming months. I will move into my new office in the next month. I will have stable and rewarding employment for the next couple years.

Joni Mitchell's words and Judy Collins' voice best sing my life today:

Moons and Junes and Ferris Wheels,

the dizzy dancing way you feel

when every fairytale comes real...

But now friends are acting strange

They shake their heads and say I've changed

Well something's lost, but something's gained

in living every day...

Letting go?

Those of you who have been following my journey these past several years will recall how I struggled with the choice to leave academia. And yet, I still hold on, a bit at least. I still check to see if that post across the sea has been reopened. Will I reapply? Should I? Part of me wants a good reason not to.

I can't quite explain why my recent success is not yet enough cause. Though it's getting close. What is the appeal? Sure, it's a five year fixed term, with the possibility of tenure. That's attractive in itself. I may be entering the realm of two-year contracts, but the sand beneath my feet remains uncertain. The life of an entrepreneur is not known to be secure. But, as RocketMom points out, working for a large university, even as a relatively independent research faculty member, would be worlds different from my current state.

At present, I am in so many ways free. But then... aren't we always? We so often get stuck in our ways, believing ourselves caught in a life, when the choice is most often our own. I believe in large part it's because we wish to have our options limited, since endless possibilities are daunting. They represent, as Douglas Coupland put it (when he was still a good writer), "options paralysis".

I am... afraid. Exhilirated, yes! But afraid nonetheless. I fear that this present mode, this current life, which appears so wonderful, so many scoops of ice cream above the once empty cone that was the sum total of my life after the PhD, is but a phantom, on the verge of vanishing into the ether from which it emerged.

You see, beneath the veneer, I feel pretty much the same on both sides of this door. My old mentor, Tasse Plein, paid me a related compliment, when I recently called on him out of the blue in The City, where he lives and works. He was thrilled for my recent run of success (even before the latest news).

I mentioned that I was so accustomed to disappointment in my professional life, that I was having some difficulty accepting what had every appearance of being success. He kindly put in that he thought I'd manage, that I wasn't the sort of person who would change much from it.

But if I haven't changed all that much, how do I make sense of the world around me changing? And so, I hold on to a bit of the world I knew for so long, the world of academia, as still a possible home, but a home that I wish the freedom to accept or leave. I want that choice, the choice that was denied me for so many years, even if I might choose not to take it.

Shut Revolving Door

I scratch my head so often, I think there's a bald spot appearing:

Dear Articulate

The [University of Farfaraway] would like to thank you for your time in applying for [Position].

Unfortunately, the University has decided not to proceed with recruitment for this position at this time. It may however, be readvertised at a later date.
...

___________________________________________

Deric,

What happened? I just got word that the recruitment for [Position] has been cancelled.

The timing works out fine for me, since I’ve got a two year contract for R&D despite a lack of university affiliation. That’ll keep me busy for the time being. But I wonder that the cancellation means no applicant’s credentials were deemed suitable.

After 150 faculty applications, I’m used to shrugging my shoulders and wondering what more I could be asked to offer. But the disappointment remains. At this stage, I’m more interested in keeping the research alive. I’m lucky to have my research funded, but it’d be nice to stay in touch with related researchers. Do let me know what you can. I’m happy to stay in touch.

Articulate

___________________________________________
[Five minutes later]

Hi Articulate,

No not cancelled, rather it has been decided to readvertise (within the month) as a mid/senior level position rather than exclusively as a senior one.

All the best,

Deric

Sometimes, I can't be sure which doors are closed, and which I've propped open.

The Weight of Life

Heavy.

Tonight, I have an overwhelming sense of despair, a vague desire to just disappear, to suffer amnesia, to be someone else, satisfied with a simple life. But it's an inward feeling. The world has not shifted place since yesterday or this morning.

In fact, it's that simple stasis that I identify as my trigger. I wait ...

Perhaps it's all in my head. Not... not that waiting is not a condition of my present life. Just that focusing on that wait is something I alone can control. But I don't.

I wait to hear back from my agency project leader, regarding my second stage proposal (she's just back from three weeks on the road). That second stage contract is a BIG DEAL, the biggest deal of my life. It represents stability for a couple years, a good salary not only for me, but for three or four others. It represents the chance for me to take my ideas to the next stage, to practical applications. The chance to actually build a sustainable research-based business that I can be proud of. That's big.

It's not that I lack confidence that this will happen. It's just that I wait for it to happen. And, if it didn't I'd be okay. For me, the waiting is worst. It's like anticipating the collapse of a house of cards. Once it falls, you just pick them back up and start rebuilding. Picking up the pieces is fine... just waiting for them to fall drives me batty.

I wait to hear about whether I'll be interviewed for the research position across the seas. Apparently, their expectation of a hiring committee rendering a short list in a couple weeks was overly optimistic. Why do I even care about that post? (Because I want so much to feel that I have not been entirely banished from the world of academia, even if I'm not certain that is where I wish to be).

And I wait to hear the results of my other two recent proposals. I wait to receive job applications for the three positions I've recently advertised (well, sent around through my channels--I'll formally advertise them if need be).

I wait to hear back from the seller's agent on a few issues regarding the building I wish to purchase as office space for my company. Then, I suppose I'll wait for their response to my offer.

But... what am I really waiting for? Whose answers will change my life? Truth is, I have, right now, most of the things I have thought important in life: a wonderful wife, whom I am truly still in love with; three beautiful, delightful, charming, intelligent (and sometimes infuriating) boys, growing up in part under my tutelage; I'm a dad; I have a house, with a mortgage payment so laughably small in comparison to what we've paid in the past that I'd be hard-pressed to imagine it possible for us to lose; I've got savings in the bank, enough at least for us to consider remodeling our kitchen, and putting in a new paving-stone patio in the backyard.

Yeah, there is still some lingering bitterness and sorrow over leaving the Academy. I guess part of it is the unsettled nature of where I am. Being an entrepreneur isn't exactly a cake walk. It's quite often overwhelming, daunting. Much better feelings I admit than despair. I'll take the weight of life over the weight of dejection anytime; that doesn't make it any lighter.

Yes, this too shall pass. In the morning, a new day shall dawn. Friday I head to the lakehouse. Rocketmom and the boys are already there for the week. I'll spend the weekend there, and hopefully forget these worries for a couple days.

Back to the plan?

Today, RocketMom headed out of town with the two younger boys to pick up our oldest at his grandparents. He's been there for the week attending a summer camp. I had my intern over this morning for a few hours, then... I've been alone. I think perhaps this is the longest I've been alone at home since we moved here. It's been a time to reflect on things. I realize how important my family has become to my sense of self, how much of my motivations and quotidien decisions circle around being part of a domestic group.

It's been a time for me to reflect on where I am in life, and where I'm going. I submitted my second stage contract proposal earlier in the week. I'll still need to work up a contract with them. But it seems ever more expected that this will simply go. I can't quite bring myself to disbelieve it... but I remain amazed at how far I've come these past few years. And I'm hoping to submit yet another new grant proposal in the next couple weeks. That'd make four outstanding proposals, on top of the expected two-year contract. Each one of them represents the potential to hire another one or two or three additional employees over the coming year or so.

Some of you have followed me on this journey from desperate academic seeker to whatever I've become. Three years ago, I wrote:

I know where I want to be in 5-10. I want to be director of an interdisciplinary institute or center on my area of study, bringing together researchers and faculty from a variety of disciplines and methodological backgrounds to focus on the subject matter.

I find myself, three years later on the verge of heading just such a team. Not quite the plan I had. In some ways, more independent. I'm not running an insititute or a center, I'm running a start-up, a bootstrap as they say (meaning not a penny from investors, just me). I've gotten two contracts, and a third on the way, enough to hire a small team. And it's all on me.

There's an ad I've seen on the web, showing a business card, that slowly adds more and more titles: President, CEO, Accountant, HR, Receptionist. I chuckle. It's not a joke. I'm the grants writer, and the payroll specialist, the PI, and the maintenance engineer, the purchasing agent, and the janitor. But soon, oh so very soon (even if it's months away), I'll be the director of my very own hand-picked research team, engaged in my very own hand-picked projects.

It's humbling. And inspiring. It's what I wanted those years ago. In a sense. The odd thing is: I fell into this role, being an entrepreneur, a business owner. Looking over things, I came across a post over at BlogHer by my friend Leslie , that linked to some of my posts from early 2006, when I was still in the thrall of academia, wanting so much to just persevere long enough to make it. I never did, at least not in that realm... but oh I held on.

It's just somewhere along the path, I meandered. I tired of the monotony of application, rejection, application, rejection, appli... Finally, I emerged, hesitantly, uncertainly. Less than a year ago I got word of my first contract four years after completing the PhD. Four .. very .. long .. years. Only a month ago, I got word that the transition funding was approved, and that I was invited to submit a two-year contract.

This is all still new, the paint is still drying. Yet another chapter in my life is about to begin. Wow!

A desperate quest for we

I suppose what most motivated me in my desire to hire my friend has been what I might call "a desperate quest for we." I have often noted the loneliness of my position. It was desperately, depressingly lonely on my faculty job search. I reiterate (even to the disbelief of my friends Lilian and BrightStar), in nearly five years of searching, beginning the year before I completed my dissertation, I applied for no less than 150 faculty and related positions! Only then, finally, throwing in the towel in my quest to become a respectable academic.

In all of that, and even now, I have sought to find a home for my research and my energies, where I could be a part of something bigger than myself and my own thoughts. Yes, as undine points out, I have attained an enviable degree of present success. And yet, I'm still a me not a we. I think of BrightStar's recent musings about collegial issues, and part of me is nothing more than envious that one could even have colleagues.

But, when all is said and done... I guess the grass over here is pretty green after all, even if I find myself more often than I'd like enjoying it alone. Let's hope hiring won't be like trying to buy friends. There's work to be done. I just hope I can find some pleasant company to join me in the task.