The end of the semester
It’s that time of year again in the academic world where everything feels like it’s due. Students are panicking about graduating on time, colleagues you haven’t heard from all year suddenly MUST get that paper you’ve been working on submitted, and the end of the academic year activities (i.e. award and graduation ceremonies, celebrations and recognitions) are in full swing. My spring semester sucks. And every year I am surprised by these feelings of overwhelm, which is embarrassing to type since I’ve now been at this gig for more than 10 years 😬. This embarrassment is compounded by the fact that I am slated to give a continuing professional development lecture in a week to graduate students on, of all things, time management 🤦♀️. I shouldn’t be feeling this way.
Getting outside of the academy we have seen an increase in the number of people calling for us to slow down, have more intention, and embrace the “soft life”.1 On the surface this involves lighting candles, getting to bed early, and refusing to be on call 24/7. At a deeper level I think the soft life is about knowing your values and not allowing yourself to manufacture external pressures to be something you don’t want to be.
This is a lesson I seem destined to keep relearning. Thinking back to grad school and my candidacy exam I recall a late-night email from my supervisor chastising me for substandard work on a project. In the moment I was so furious and hurt, thinking, “how dare he be angry with me when I am doing this extra project ON TOP OF my candidacy exam”. But here in lies the problem. No one forced me to open that email late at night, nor did anyone force me to take on that extra project. I obligated myself to doing it and that meant doing it to an appropriate standard. I could have communicated my situation to my supervisor and asked for an extension on this extra project (which he certainly would be granted), but my ego got in the way.
And if I am being honest with myself, the same thing happens every spring. I know I have a standard set of classes to teach each spring, that I must attend a variety of student graduation, end of academic year activities, and yet I insist on doing more. Why? My ego.
Despite knowing the literature around work capacity, rest, and productivity,2 I feel a certain level of prestige when I can lament my busyness to colleagues. I feel important when I am running myself ragged. But this approach isn’t working for me anymore. I’m tired.
A few years ago, I would have agreed with the sentiment that academics is all about the hustle culture. Where’s my next grant coming from? Which journals am I publishing in? How many graduate students are in my lab? Is my work on the radar of the senior leaders? Who’s referencing my publications. Pre-tenure, this is a truer than not, but post-tenure I’m no longer sure. As I continue to refine what I want my impact to be, where my values lie, and just how hard it will be to make a last impact, I’m buckling down for the proverbial marathon.
So how am I spending the last few weeks of this spring semester? Well, I am winding down those tasks and responsibilities that don’t serve my impact, focussing on making sure my students get what they need to finish the semester strong, and beginning to think hard about what I need to do to get to my next set of goals. How are you spending the last few weeks of your semester?
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References:
2. https://www-sciencedirect-com.umiss.idm.oclc.org/science/article/pii/S0921800921000471