The Professor Is In

Guidance for all things PhD: Graduate School, Job Market and Careers

“Did We Drop the Ball on That?” The Power of Your Words

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I was working with an instructional faculty member in the social sciences. The department had offered them the opportunity to teach some classes in their own specialization, which would be a great support for their own research and writing. They received this offer at the beginning of the semester, and enthusiastically agreed.
Then complete silence. No emails, no scheduling, nothing.
The time to schedule the classes arrived, and they still had nothing except their regular general intro classes. This despite hearing that other instructors were getting offered their requested classes.
They asked me what to do.
I said, “you need to talk with the chair.”
The client:  wut 🙁
I said, “No, you do. You have to take this up directly. In a collegial way of course. But directly!”
“I have no idea how to do that,” said client.
“Yes, I know,” said I.
So, as is always my practice, I provided example language:
“At the beginning of this semester you offered me X and Y classes. But they haven’t been scheduled yet. I am curious, did we drop the ball on that?”
“Did we drop the ball on that?”  I was pleased with that one. I never actually know what I am going to suggest. I always improvise the language on the spot, taking in what I know of the client, and their personality and position and rank and field (and gender). And the wider context, including the person to whom they will be speaking and vibes I get about the department. I take it all in, and mull it over, and generate suggestions. I always say, “hang on, let me run this through the computer.” We try it out, and workshop it further when necessary.
I suggested this particular wording because to my mind it displayed a friendly confidence and agency, and a non-judgmental curiosity, without looking needy, or escalating, or going emotional (which never works with academics), while positioning the client on an equitable collegial footing with the chair.
Which the client admitted, was frankly unimaginable.
I said, “Yeah I know. That’s why we’re going to practice. I’ll be the department chair. Go ahead and try it out.”
We practiced. It was rough. But by the end, they had gotten a bit more comfortable.
And then they did it. They made an appointment, they walked in, they did a little preliminary “how are you; the weather is horrible,” and then they said exactly what we practiced.
Afterwards, they reported the results.
“KAREN! He looked up and paused for a good solid minute, then said, ‘Well, you’re right, I guess we did drop the ball. And I owe you an explanation.'”
“Karen, he admitted he dropped the ball!  And, he was flabbergasted! Karen, he never saw this coming. He never expected me to display that kind of ownership over my teaching. Or to advocate for myself!”
My client reported that the chair went on to explain some departmental politics that had led to the outcome, and committed to rectifying it. Two days later, an email came in scheduling one of the specialized classes. Telling me this story, they choked up a little. “This was such a win for me! At that moment, I stopped being the invisible ‘worker’; I became a scholar who demands to be seen as such.”

They went on: “I was shaking when I walked into that office! But I said to myself, ‘Self, you have to do it!’ And, I did, and everything you said would happen actually came true!”

My client ended: “Honestly, Karen, at this point if you told me to kill a chicken and drink its blood I would, because everything you have ever told me to do has worked!”

I share this story for a few reasons. The first is, it’s one of the highlights of my work at The Professor Is In to hear the successful outcomes of my advice.  Sitting on my sofa as I do, day after day, typing away (or sitting on the other end of a zoom meeting) I rarely get to hear what actually happens out there in the world! I was beyond grateful the client shared this anecdote, which allows me to test in real time whether my advice remains accurate and useful. Because if not, I want to change it, stat.

Second, this story speaks to the power of words. Just a few words. Nothing fancy. But carefully, carefully considered. Scripted. And practiced. Because nothing about professional life comes “naturally” to those who operate outside circles of privilege. Everything needs to be considered, and taught, and studied, and practiced. This is literally why I created The Professor Is In in 2010. To de-mystify unspoken cultural and linguistic norms of academia. For those who enter it without a previous knowledge base.

As my client said, “KAREN, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I DIDN’T KNOW!”

And third, to share something more subtle, and harder to articulate. Which is, that not every negative occurrence is necessarily the result of conscious malfeasance or persecution. Yes, there is malfeasance and persecution. There is abuse and exploitation. But there is also just… distracted and overworked department chairs. Overloaded schedules. The right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing. One bad actor in the department who throws up road blocks… but (and this is important) who the other faculty are committed to circumventing. And so on. Sometimes a meeting and a few words, or an email, or a call, are all that is needed to radically shift outcomes. Because while sometimes there ARE huge entrenched obstacles to change, sometimes you’re just dealing with distraction, disorganization, poor, broken, or non-existent processes, or forgetfulness. If you escalate prematurely, you run right over the chance to effect change in a calm, collegial way.

But effecting change in this way does require actual conscious directed action.

I spend a lot of time working with women in particular, but honestly any academic who struggles with confidence and self-worth, to construct and utilize language that effectively advocates for their interests. It’s not instinctive, or effortless to do this, but it’s also not impossible. It’s entirely doable. It’s not rocket science. It is, though, unbelievably difficult for anyone who has been steeped in messages of unworthiness or disrespect – which usually predate their time in academia.

Abused people gravitate to the abusive norms of academia.

So, yes, you might need the help of a mentor or coach to get launched. You might need to write it out, and workshop it, and edit it, and then practice it 100 times. Your hands and your voice might shake when you have to deliver it. But you can do it.

And eventually you’ll be able to do it yourself. And that’s my goal. To remind you that you deserve to be treated with respect, and to help you find the words to demand that.

 

 

 

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