Surviving in the Fourth Dimension
by James M. Lang
By the time they get hired on the tenure track, most new faculty members have developed some expertise in two of the main areas of evaluation for tenure: research and teaching. You’ve written your dissertation, after all, so you know how to conduct and write up your research. And few of us get through graduate school these days without teaching service courses in our discipline, or without supplementing our meager graduate school stipends with adjunct work.
Most graduate students have less experience in service, the third category of evaluation. Service commitments cover a variety of tasks, from serving on faculty committees to advising students and student groups, writing letters of reference, and participating actively in the life of the college. You can get practice on some of this as a graduate student, but most faculty members learn this one on the job.
These three dimensions of faculty life are usually explicitly addressed in faculty policy books, widely discussed in books and articles on faculty life, and have concrete markers against which those of us on the tenure track can measure our progress.
None of these statements are true, unfortunately, for a fourth dimension of faculty life—one that you receive no training for, that you won’t see discussed in much detail in your policy handbook, and that may prove the most exhausting and challenging part of your life as a new faculty member: collegiality.
And yet you may be evaluated on your negotiation of this dimension of faculty life; I have seen it used to destroy the careers of two junior faculty members.
So what comes to mind when you hear the word “collegiality”? Being a nice person? Getting along with everyone? Treating your colleagues with respect, even when you disagree with them? Working effectively in meetings and on committees with others?
Well, yes. All of these, and more. Does it mean accepting assignments that are disagreeable or burdensome to you? Does it mean keeping your mouth shut when you witness colleagues doing things you find reprehensible? Does it mean nodding in sympathy when one colleague excoriates another in front of you—and then doing the same thing when you hear the other side of the story from the alleged villain?
Sometimes.
This is the difficulty with collegiality: it can mean everything and it can mean nothing. If you are working well with everyone in your department, collegiality may never come up in your tenure discussions. If you are not, it may become a weapon that the department and administration can use against you.
So how does a new faculty member survive, and even thrive, in this fourth dimension?
First, remember a basic truth about narrative: there are multiple sides to every story. In your first months and years on the tenure track, you will find yourself naturally drawn to one or two colleagues, and you will form friendships with them. Some evening at the bar, or some morning over coffee, these new friends will give you their version of events that have been instrumental in the history of the college, of the department, and of their lives.
Remember that every member of your department will tell you a slightly different version of those histories. All of those versions will contain some truths; the Truth, if it exists, lies somewhere in the midst of all of those versions. Be careful not to swallow anyone’s story wholesale. Be careful not to accept the first version of the departmental narrative you hear—even if it comes from your new best friend on the faculty.
We all cast ourselves as the heroes in our stories; heroes fight villains. Every version of the departmental or college history you hear will offer different perspectives on the actors filling those different roles.
Once you have accepted this, it all comes down to hermeneutics—the art of interpretation. And as a new faculty member, you should practice the three principles of the hermeneutics of collegiality.
Assume that your colleagues are acting in good faith, and doing what they think is best for the department and the college. You believe this about yourself, right? Offer your colleagues the same generous interpretation of their motives and behavior you give to yourself.
Assuming that any of your colleagues—no matter what you hear about them—are evil, or out to get you, or sabotage the department, has absolutely no benefits. It has many drawbacks, the main one of which is emotional exhaustion. With all the obligations you will have to your classrooms, and research, and committees, you will have little time and energy left at the end of the day: don’t waste it scrutinizing the behavior of your colleagues for their “real” motivations. Accept the ones you hear from their mouths.
Accept and consider all proposals from your colleagues on their merits alone—not on the person proposing them. Do not vote for anyone or anything because specific members of your department are voting in one or the other way. Again, assume that all proposals have been put forth in the best interests of the department and the college, and vote for or against them on their merits.
Keep your mouth shut and your ears open. Listen to everyone’s stories when they offer them. Nod sympathetically. Be noncommittal. Be especially wary of the faculty member who seems eager to share his perspective on departmental politics with you. Those colleagues are frequently the ones who want you to take their side in some longstanding departmental rift.
Of course, you may find, further down the road on your tenure track, that you really do have a colleague who is evil, or who has been out to get you. But before you are granted tenure, you will have little recourse to respond to such a person anyway. In serious cases, such as sexual harassment, follow the formal grievance procedures at your institution; for most other situations, you will be best served by keeping a smile pasted on your face and keeping your mouth shut.
When you are hired on the tenure track, you can choose to enter one of two kinds of departments: one in which you see faculty members as rancorous and petty, constantly plotting against one another; or one in which you see people of good will frequently disagreeing about how best to serve their students, their department, and themselves.
Which department you enter depends primarily upon your interpretive style.
Successful and happy faculty members, in my experience, practice the three principles of the hermeneutics of collegiality.
James M. Lang is the author of Life on the Tenure Track: Lessons from the First Year (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005), and writes a regular column on academic life for the Chronicle of Higher Education. He is an assistant professor of English at Assumption College in Worcester, MA. Visit his web site at http://www.jamesmlang.com.