Back in the Deep End of the Wading Pool

I am finally totally immersed in the semester (both teaching and administrative) here at Dream Academy. Here's the skinny:

1) The graduate course is finally taking shape.

2) Two new colleagues (from different departments) and I have started a writing group to get us working on whatever we need to get working on. The person whose idea the group was has become a very good friend, but she is also very ambitious and organized - her intervention in her (completely different) discipline is actually staggering. But, this means that she's really good at whipping us into shape. We met last week for coffee and had to bring a general outline of our writing deadlines through March. Now, mine consisted of writing a conference paper for mid-March (which is the seeds of my new book chapter) and applying for a summer institute thing that requires a short essay. My other article is done, so I'm now beginning the long journey of revising dissertation into book. I'm holding off on other articles (except peeling off one more from my diss) until I've got a much better handle on the manuscript and begin sending out book prospectuses. This did not deter our leader. She looked at me squarely and said, "Okay, let's map out the next year of writing for you." I'd already given this some thought because I recently applied for an internal research grant that needed a timeline for the project (which would extend into next summer). The 3 core chapters of the book are in very good shape. The last chapter and the first, introductory/methodology chapter (the one I'm writing from scratch) are not. But, in half an hour of her diligence and my slightly more befuddled effort, we'd looked through calendars and come up with a general but very reasonable schedule of writing, archival research, and revision that would have my entire book manuscript ready to be sent to whoever wants it in early fall 2009, the beginning of my third year on the tenure track. Now, I will already have circulated the prospectus and representative chapters before then. But all of a sudden, the way seemed clearer and very doable. I blinked at her a couple of times and said "thanks!" She just smiled and said "all this is revisable to accommodate babies, etc., but it's a good start...now, let's turn to Second Member of our Writing Group...." Damn, do I like a woman with gumption.

3) We had our first candidate out for the position I've been invloved with (i.e., on the hiring committee). We do our campus visits up right in this neck of the woods (unlike some who shall remain nameless and ever in darkness *cough!DutchmanU*). But we set up 2 great dinners with faculty members, tours, grad student meetings, all the good stuff. Plus lots of down time. This candidate was smart as a whip, a little young and nervous (ABD), and kinda shy, but I think s/he enjoyed themselves. It fell to me to take the candidate on a tour of the city (neighborhoods, apt. complexes, where faculty live, downtown, pubs/restaurants/parks, etc.). Anyway, I never scorn to chat, so I was driving around, eating a Whopper, and pointing out things as well as describing teaching loads, leave policies, collegiality, etc. and all of a sudden I was possessed by the "Ask Inappropriate Questions Imp of the Perverse." I started thinking that I might blurt out something like, "So, tell me everything about your gender, sexuality, marital or partner status, ethnicity, race, and socio-economic background." I took another bite of my Whopper and let the moment pass safely. But, have any of you ever had the feeling that you might, in the course of a friendly chat with a candidate about, say, popular culture, all of a sudden ask, "Okay, how old are you??" when you're trying to establish exactly how much of the mid-80s break-dancing era they were privy to? After all, it's one thing to say you do a helluva head-spin, but you should be able to back it up by saying "I lived for the headspin back in '84 when I was in junior-high"...

This must be the down-side of having a super friendly department - our talk at dinner rarely (if ever) is a polite questioning about their interests, work, if they have any questions, etc. Rather, we quickly stray off into the realm of anecdote ("Let me tell you about the time we got stranded in Nicaragua..."), hokey impressions (last night, the Godfather), and brushes with fame ("My sister one time dropped a scoop of ice cream on Julia Roberts's shoe!").

All of this is to say that it's been a busy, but good week. The forecast will extend into all of next week, but at the end of it The Dutchman arrives, so all is good...