Tales of the Invisible Ben

Rejection

You would think I would be used to it by now. It's not like I haven't been rejected before. College admissions, grad school programs, and perhaps it's best if I avoid discussing my luck, or lack thereof, with members of the opposite sex. And indeed, as I started to compile job applications over the past few months, I did so knowing that in all likelihood the vast majority would be rejected. It's simply par for the course given the job market for academics.

Why? Well, for one thing there simply aren't that many positions available. In addition, the positions that are available are often advertised using very generic language, even when a department is seeking to fill a very specific niche. For example, a job posting might claim they were looking for a historian of technology, when what they really want is someone to teach a survey course on the Industrial Revolution. Broader categories permit departments to cast a wide net, ensuring that they have a pool of sufficiently qualified applicants from which to choose. Yet they also lead people who are unaware of departmental preferences to apply for jobs that they have absolutely no chance of getting. Compounding these problems is the fact that there are a lot of very smart people applying for a relatively small number of posts.

These are the things I told myself at the outset and I repeat them like a mantra over and over as I hear about the colleague who has two interviews in a week or the myriad of sample job talks being given by friends up at Old Ivy. Or, as is so often the case, when I don't hear anything, not even a simple e-mail informing me that I didn't make the short-list for a job. Failure is simply part of the game.

And yet even bearing these things in mind, this week has been particularly frustrating. Bookended by a pair of equal yet opposite rejections, it has once again given me pause about my long-term prospects. The rejections were equal in the sense that in both cases I was turned down for a position--one was a fellowship and one was a faculty job. Neither was a perfect match for my research, but they were close enough that I felt as though I had a strong shot. It would seem that I was incorrect in that assessment.

Actually, that isn't quite true, but to explain why requires some elaboration upon the "opposite" aspect alluded to above. Because despite their similarity in outcome, the two rejections in question were polar opposites in terms of professionalism. In the case of rejection #1, the rejection was delivered via telephone by the fellowship director, who expressed admiration for my credentials but explained that administrative policies precluded my acceptance at this time. Though I was disappointed with the outcome, I figured that so far as job rejections go, this was about as good as things could get. The rejection was handled in a courteous, personal manner and I left feeling as though I was merely unlucky rather than outright unqualified.

Contrast this with the rejection I received this afternoon. This was one of the first positions to which I applied. I submitted my application in mid-September and with the exception of a single e-mail indicating that they had obtained my documentation, I heard nothing. For four months. Nothing. I assumed, rightly as it turned out, that I had not made the short list and that I would, as was so often the case, receive no additional news about the job. Oh, how wrong I was. Instead, today I received a generic e-mail informing me that I had not received the position. Not surprising in and of itself, but the committee chair then proceeded to congratulate the one person who did receive the position. There was also a link to the successful candidate's website, just in case one wanted to learn more about their research and credentials.

Here was the complete antithesis of my Monday rejection--impersonal, impolite, and downright disheartening. Believe me, the last thing someone wants when they get rejected from a job is hear about how great the person was who beat them to the punch. I also imagine it must be weird for the chosen candidate, who most likely did not expect for his personal website to be circulated to a bunch of disgruntled grad students and postdocs. All in all, it demonstrated a severe lack of class, leading me to suspect I'm better off in some ways not getting the position. Or at least, that's the latest addition to my list of rationalizations.

The combination of these two rejections has led me to dwell more and more on the future. Since my job responsibilities as a historian involve the past, you can imagine how this might lead to some distraction at work. Nevertheless, I have to be practical. In a few short months, this fellowship will end and I will be in a real bind unless I get my act together and figure out a backup plan. It seems that the only solution is to keep applying, rejection be damned, and hope that somehow things will work out for the best.