Publish or perish.

Long, long ago (7 years) and far, far away (Missouri), I began a journey of epic proportions (grad school).  In many respects, I was the same person—except I had really short hair.  There I was at age 22—at the cusp of something novel, ready to conquer the academic world with my brilliant ideas and big words.  I wanted to inspire students in the classroom—I wanted to challenge and energize them with academic epiphanies.  There was so much I wanted to be.  

Clearly, I’m feeling nostalgic this week.  I’m nostalgic for a lot of things—for a schedule of classes, regular happy hours with naïve grad students, and living life according to the pursuit of knowledge.  But mostly I’m nostalgic for that time in my life when ideas and scholarship formed the backbone of my existence.  When my identity as a student was my primary identity. 

I think I know why.  This week, a magazine will arrive in the mail.  Actually, it’s not a magazine.  It’s an academic journal, and my name will be inside.  To the untrained eye, it might look like a slightly boring collection of big words, statistical analyses, and important scholars. But to me, it’s a highly satisfying ending to a really long process.  The article is the short version of my dissertation—a project I began a good 6 years ago.  I’m proud of it.  It was a creative dissertation, but rigorous too.  When I wrote it, I felt like a scholar.  And when I began that work, my career goal was solid:  to become a professor.  My goal was to move from student to teacher, in a seamless fluid climb. 

I’m not a professor.  Teaching certainly figures into my work, but not in the way I expected.  Writing is also there in my work, but not in the way I expected it to be.  My path shifted…as paths are prone to do.  And so this article—this piece of writing that followed me through 6 years of graduate work—has me thinking.    

Finding my way back to the classroom...without sacrificing the benefits I have now.

Do I miss the work of pure academia?  I’m not sure.  I pursued my current job because it I knew it would give me a specific kind of satisfaction.  My job, which involves coordinating career development programming and counseling for a university, is active, changing, and highly interactive.  And I love the fact that my work is, well, practical.  Students come to office for solutions, encouragement, and resources.  They come to learn, but they come to learn about themselves.  I love to see the results of my work, and the opportunities to mentor others.  And yet…   

There’s still that nerdy college student within me.  It’s the version of myself who still dreams of commanding the attention of a classroom with my witty remarks and classically tweed blazer.  It’s the part of me that wants to spend my time thinking more than doing.  I’m a junkie for learning, and I need to ease my cravings.  And yet…

There is no perfect solution.  I’m not ready for drastic changes, and I don’t need them.  But an adjustment, perhaps?  Perhaps I will sit with the awareness that sometimes, our goals change.  I always knew this.  But I’ve been surprised to learn the following: Once you reject a goal once, it doesn’t mean it won’t resurface. I will look for opportunities to nurture that academic side of myself.  And I’ll continue providing practical guidance, for practical questions. 

And one thing is for sure—I love working in a university environment.  I love that my meetings necessitate a walk along tree-lined sidewalks crowded with scholarly-looking people, and students hunched over with backpacks.  I love the fact that I work with people who love learning, and who constantly seek new opportunities for development—both personal and professional.  I love that I surround myself with symbols of my scholarly past, present, and future. 

How about you?  Are you doing a job that you would have imagined for yourself?  It is worthwhile to return to the daydreams of your  youth?

Not a bad spot for a workday.