Have you heard of the soggy potato chip theory? It goes something like this: A kid would always love a crisp, new potato chip, but if soggy potato chips are all there is, they can be satisfying too. It’s an analogy to attention, and the way kids would always prefer positive, supportive attention, but if negative, critical attention is all they can get, they’ll take it. Attention is that important.
Many of us in academia are like those kids.
We want the tenure-track job in our preferred geographic area for a decent wage and a reasonable teaching load. We want friendly colleagues and a supportive research environment. But if adjunct teaching or a non-tenure-track and thus year-to-year job with a high teaching load and crappy conditions is all we are offered, we’ll often take it.
We want so badly to be part of academia, to live that life that we imagined for ourselves that we’ll accept a watered-down version that actively drains us – because it’s less painful than walking away from what we really, actually want.
I say this not in condemnation. Not at all. I say this because walking away from what we want is incredibly, terribly painful.
That’s why it takes so long
It would be great if we could sit down, make a pro and con list, and rationally decide that yep, leaving is the way to go, then dust off our hands and dive in to the process of finding another job, maybe moving.
Maybe that’s how it works for some people. That’s not how it worked for me, and that’s not how it works for most of the people I talk to.
For most of us, it looks more like this. Spend weeks or months or even years miserable and ground down and exhausted. Consider leaving. Get excited about a few possibilities. Look at real estate somewhere we actually want to live. Have a lovely weekend imagining a different life. Go back to work on Monday energized and excited. Teach a great class. Have a nice conversation with a colleague. Start doubting that you really need to leave. Maybe you just need an attitude adjustment. Maybe you just need to buckle down. Spend a few weeks throwing yourself into your work. Find yourself crying or angry for no apparent reason. Start looking at job ads. Find a few that seem exciting. Sit down to try to draft an application. Freak out and decide you’re staying.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Leaving is a process, not a point
You are going to doubt yourself. You are going to question every single one of the experiences that led you to consider leaving in the first place. (Maybe they weren’t that bad.) You are going to go back and forth between hope and despair. You are going to try to talk yourself into staying. You are going to try to talk yourself into leaving. There may be weeks when you get nothing done at all, in any direction.
This is completely normal.
Leaving academia is an enormous thing. It affects your identity, it affects your sense of the rightness of the world, it affects your belief in yourself.
None of that means that you’re a bad person, or that you should stay or that you should go. It means only that you’re grappling with something huge, something that will likely be a fork in the road.
It is not fun. But it is normal.
Ways to make it a little bit easier
If you can accept that this is as much a part of the process as everything else – i.e., you avoid beating yourself up for all of the back-and-forthing – it’ll be easier on you.
If you can give yourself the space and understanding and compassion to just watch all of the doubts and fears and hopes and dreams arise, you’ll learn something about what you really want and what matters to you and what’s standing in your way.
If you can be patient, you’ll arrive at a point that has some foundation to it. You’ll find a place to stand and a decision you’re committed to, however scary it is.
If part of what’s standing in your way is a fear that there’s nothing else you’re qualified to do, join Jo VanEvery and me for a six-week class designed to help you expand your sense of what careers are possible for you. It starts June 12, and you can find out more by clicking here.