Dr. Shellie

Today I was reading Mom Seeks Tenure and Dr. Mom and was reminded of this story.

I once heard a talk by a bigshot, female department chair from a major med school describing her career path. She said she had decided not to have children in her early career, figuring she would wait until after she got tenure. But after getting tenure, it was "too late," and she couldn’t get pregnant. She also divorced her husband. So, she said, "I started to see my graduate students and colleagues as my family. It’s strange; when I was younger I always pictured myself as getting married and having children. I never pictured myself as a department chair. But I got the one and not the other."

Last weekend I paid $200 for the privilege of sleeping in a room only slightly larger than my bed. That’s what happens when you find a hotel in Manhattan. The two giant mirrors on either side wall tried in vain to give the illusion of space. The wall separating the bathroom from the bedroom was made of transparent glass, perhaps to prevent claustrophobia when standing in the tiny shower. When I dried my hair in front of the bathroom mirror, my elbow kept hitting the wall. In return for giving up my freedom of movement, I got to feel cool–very cool. All the furniture was in glass and chrome, and the lampshades looked like modern art. The free shampoo smelled like patchouli oil. For tourism advice, I could turn to the guide to hotel services, which came with a snide yet knowing review of the restaurant and club scene. Unfortunately the cheapest room-service breakfast cost $30.

Right after that, I took a train to Philadelphia, and the universe shifted. Compared to New York, Philly is– well, the suburbs, even if you are downtown. My hotel room was HUGE, with plenty of room for a king-sized bed and two giant lounge chairs. The room-service breakfast was only $10 and (unlike New York) was not delivered by a cute gay guy trying to make it in theater. It wasn’t so chic, but it sure was convenient.

So which was better? To my own surprise, I seem to be getting more flexible. I shrug dismissively when someone tries to start a conversation about how "the only places worth living in the US are New York or San Francisco… or maybe Boston." Five years ago, I used to loudly assert this myself. Maybe I am getting more mature, or maybe I am losing my taste. Or maybe this is just the kind of attitude you have to have to go chasing after faculty jobs– though I am still hoping not to end up in Nebraska.

I am still strangely annoyed about my photo-taking session. Here’s how it went. I woke up as usual, and instead of going to work, spent an hour digging through my clothes to find something appropriate for photographs. Then I spent half an hour emailing the grad students in my lab to see who could help me out as assistant photographer. After that, I went to borrow a digital camera (nice. Nikon N70– an SLR) from a lab on campus. One grad student who works with me helped me out by taking photos in different spots around the office and lab for half an hour before his class, at which point I had to track down another grad student. After shooting, I downloaded some image processing software on my computer and uploaded the photos. Editing them took another hour or so, including picking out the best out of the hundred we took (even for professional photographers, the percentage of usable photos is always low– and one of the grad students hadn’t done much photography before). Finally I went through the best picks and did some cropping and minor edits. Sum total? 7 hours.

I enjoyed playing with the N70, and was happy to be taking photos again. But I suppose I am still annoyed that I am expected to be doing this at all. The life of a postdoc is somewhat precarious, in terms of status. Sure, you are not a grad student anymore– you have your PhD. On the other hand, you are not a professor either– and your time is not perceived to be nearly as valuable as someone with a "real job." Or so I fear. Maybe I need to start valuing my own time more (like not going to the dentist in the middle of the work day!) and asking other people to, too.

Now that everyone has a digital camera, people seem to think photos should be free. I was just asked to provide a "high-quality head shot" of myself, plus pictures of myself working in the lab. It was emphasized that it was VERY important to get good quality work, since they would be used in a brochure, and that it had to be done by Friday.

Oh, and there is no budget.

So I will ask a friend to mess around with a digital camera, and depending who I can find by Friday, the pictures are likely to be full of front-on flash shots, behind the head shadows, depth-of-field weirdness, and washed-out spots which I will attempt to micromanage away.

Public service announcement from me: If you need professional-quality photos, PAY A PROFESSIONAL. (Or you will have to find a friend with a rabid photo hobby and a good camera who is generous with their free time.)

Speaking of which, I should have included a "high-quality digital camera" in my last post.