Reflections From a Would-Be Social Worker
It was mid-March in 2006. I was four years out of my PhD program. I had completed a two-year post-doctoral research fellowship, which is a position for new PhDs, but I'd been floating, looking for a job for two years. I had steady employment, health insurance, and a book that was slatted to come out soon, but I had not secured the most coveted job in academia - a tenure-track position. (For those who don't know, this "coveted" job comes with a license to work someone nearly-to-death until s/he applies for tenure, when supposedly things can slow down. Three years post-tenure, I have not found that to be the case, however.) The phone rang in our kitchen in Saco, Maine and the caller ID read: Bridgewater State College. "Bridgewater," I thought to myself, "I think that I applied for a job there." I'd applied for dozens of jobs in the northeast and had only been offered one position, which I had turned down. My degree, in public policy, was not an a