I’m trying something new. For the past two years, I reserved this blog for my time teaching a study abroad class in Spain. But I got the thinking, my life doesn’t start and stop with that experience. And I actually kind of enjoy writing this little blog.So I’m considering dropping a few posts every once in a while throughout the year. The content will focus on my life as a professor, father, husband, concerned citizen, and very amateur, middle-aged men’s league soccer player. š There’s some reservation on my part as I’m not sure I can keep things as interesting while at home. Maybe I don’t have a voice outside of the time I’m traveling in a beautiful foreign country. Maybe no one outside of my mother will read this. But what the hell… let’s give it a shot, eh? (Sorry for the swear Mom)
It’s September. And I’m back home in Iowa City, Iowa. (Oh God is this already boring? Proceed with caution dear reader!) And it’s beginning to feel like fall in the Midwest. My days are filled with “work” at the university, moonlighting as a chauffeur for teenage kids, taking care of our one year-old golden doodle (Who’s a good boy Otis?!?), attending kids sporting events, and spending time with my wife when we can find a spare hour. Depending on your vantage point, this may sound awful or wonderful. Put me in the wonderful category.
Today I’m going to focus on my role as a college professor. I put “work” in quotation marks because my role as a professor rarely feels like work. I get to spend my paid time thinking, creating, helping, mentoring, and making decisions that can have a positive impact on the lives of students and my fellow community members. So there’s 30 hours a week. (Just kidding, like most professors, I do actually put in a fair amount of hours but I get to choose when and where…just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Great film.)
Now to become a college professor, I had to go to college for 10 years. I also put in an extra two years of training just for giggles. During this time, I was basically broke or at best, horribly underpaid. Looking back, I didn’t feel poor. I was going to school, making enough money to pay my bills, and enjoying my life. There’s a lesson in there somewhere I’m sure.
When I turned 30, I got my first “real job” as a college professor. (Goodbye generic Ramen noodles… hello name brand Ramen noodles!)
Now it may not be common knowledge that life as a professor often times means more than teaching classes. I actually only teach two or three classes per year. I am what you call a tenure-track professor, which means that a large part of my role is dedicated to research and scholarship. Scholarship is about answering questions that haven’t been answered before and generating new knowledge. (Like why do I constantly crave cereal at night time before bed?) It requires some level of creativity, but also a solid understanding of the scientific method. Our job is to find gaps in understanding and then design studies that help us fill in those gaps. The day-to-day stuff involves a lot of reading, writing, and arithmetic. (It’s almost like all of those elementary subjects in school were important!) If you are a naturally curious person, you might have a knack for it. Call me.
In truth, this is a great gig. I’m 45 years old now and I have absolutely no interest in even thinking about retirement. I’m actually half excited to go to work most days. I’m internally motivated to start the projects that I designed and created and to see them through. It’s fulfilling work and I feel very lucky to have found this vocation. More later.
“Professing” at a research conference with a couple students.
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