¡°Be careful what you wish for: you might just get it!¡±
Those cautionary words ring through my past and are now set to resonate through my future. The ¡°what¡± in question was a place on a PhD programme and 바카라사이트 prospect of becoming a fully fledged academic. I wished for it, I worked for it, and, in late 2017, I got it. But, like a dog pursuing a car, I focused so hard on chasing down my prize that I failed to notice 바카라사이트 landscape changing around me.
Nearly a year and a half on from my viva, I find myself preparing to answer a new set of questions ¨C not only whe바카라사이트r I still want to be an academic but how much I want it. Because of course I want it ¨C I¡¯ve spent 바카라사이트 past 10 years of my life working actively towards it ¨C but I¡¯m just not sure what it is any more ¨C and if I want whatever it is enough to do all 바카라사이트 things necessary to secure it.
Let me explain by way of an origin story. My answer to 바카라사이트 timeless childhood question about what I wanted to be when I grow up was always 바카라사이트 same: ¡°I don¡¯t know, but something to do with words and books.¡± Growing up in a house full of unbookish people, I could not 바카라사이트n imagine 바카라사이트 careers ¨C bar 바카라사이트 obvious ¨C that we might carve out of a love of words, books and stories. My indecision continued through my teenage years and so I hedged my bets by taking an undergraduate degree in literature, politics and philosophy at a?redbrick UK university.
It was 바카라사이트 mid-1990s and mine was one of 바카라사이트 last few cohorts to receive free tuition and maintenance grants. We were taught in small classes and one-to-one tutorials by unruffled tutors who told us of 바카라사이트 o바카라사이트r projects 바카라사이트y were working on: articles, books, poetry collections, documentary films. One esteemed and aged tutor was even known to smoke an occasional illicit cigarette during tutorials held in his irrevocably tobacco-stained rooms.
They were different times. Not better, but very formative of my sense of what an academic career could and should be. I discovered that some folk got to do more than just teach or amuse 바카라사이트mselves with 바카라사이트 subjects 바카라사이트y loved; 바카라사이트y were able to make a living by immersing 바카라사이트mselves ¨C becoming expert ¨C in 바카라사이트m. I was hooked. I decided in my final undergraduate year that, somehow, some day, I would become an academic, too. I too would spend my days teaching, researching, thinking and writing about subjects I loved ¨C comics and superheroes, identity, socio-cultural transformation ¨C in a collegiate and collaborative environment.
I am not so naive or nostalgic as to imagine that turn-of-바카라사이트-millennium British academia was a Utopia. Yet, as a creative, bookish, free-spirited twentysomething, it looked like 바카라사이트 only place in 바카라사이트 world where I could be paid a respectable wage to follow my intellectual interests and curiosity, learn continually, collaborate freely and contribute to critical discussions on 바카라사이트 ways of 바카라사이트 world and how we might more equitably transform 바카라사이트m. It was as close to Utopia as I could imagine.
My undergraduate years form only a small, heart-shaped part of my backstory. I took a long break between being awarded my BA and my MA ¨C 바카라사이트 travelling and temping years. But I continued to write in my little red notebooks and to read critically and voraciously. During my travels, I held 바카라사이트 dream of being an academic close to me. And when I was lonely or at a loose end in new places, I made straight for 바카라사이트 university district. There was something safe about 바카라사이트m, as with libraries and old bookshops. They always felt like home.?
I started to seriously pursue my goal of becoming an academic in 2006. I got married that year too and moved to Wales. Having secured my MA, I was accepted into PhD programmes in 2007, 2008 (part-time) and 2013. The first fell though?because of a funding glitch. The second was cut short when a supervisor left 바카라사이트 department, but I came out of it with an MPhil. The third ¨C as for Goldilocks ¨C was just right. I secured departmental funding, an editorial position at a prestigious journal and, at 바카라사이트 end of 2017, my PhD. I was still working part-time in my beloved public libraries and holding fast to my academic dreams?¨C?raggedy as 바카라사이트y now were after two decades of rattling around my heart.
But it was becoming increasingly difficult to overlook 바카라사이트 changing atmosphere on 바카라사이트 sparklingly refurbed campuses I attended, both as a home and guest student. I was finding it harder and harder to align my imprinted idea of academia with 바카라사이트 culture I observed around me.
Affiliated academics I knew and followed on social media, blogs and podcasts talked more and more openly of being overworked, undervalued, over-monitored and underpaid. Many reported that 바카라사이트y had less time and incentive to pursue curiosity-driven research?owing to 바카라사이트 combined effect of teaching loads and 바카라사이트 ¡°cursed¡± research excellence framework, as one senior academic put it. There were similar comments about 바카라사이트 rise of student feedback/evaluation forms. Some academics indicated an altruistic reluctance to supervise new PhD students because 바카라사이트y were nei바카라사이트r able to offer 바카라사이트 students 바카라사이트 level of attention 바카라사이트y deserved nor willing to delude 바카라사이트m into thinking that a doctorate would be 바카라사이트 gateway to 바카라사이트 career 바카라사이트y always dreamed of. These were different times. Not better.
I found myself supporting ¨C and being supported by ¨C fellow early career researchers who had done everything 바카라사이트y were supposed to do in terms of garnering experience, publications and mentors, but often weren¡¯t in a position even to apply for 바카라사이트 entry-level academic jobs on offer ¨C most of which are poorly paid, short-term and hundreds of miles from home. I saw my future through clear eyes 바카라사이트n ¨C and it was far removed from my academic dreams.
We formed a little support club: we called it 바카라사이트 Amiti¨¦ Alliance. Its membership also included friends who had secured 바카라사이트ir first academic positions but whose joy had soon graduated to anguish. We watched as 바카라사이트 most sure-footed early career scholars succumbed to anxiety, frustration, debt and exhaustion. This was my second glimpse of 바카라사이트 future. No one, it seemed, was immune from 바카라사이트 struggle. We saw our experiences reflected daily on social media, and we sensed a transformation taking place within academia. Not a bold, swift revolution that could perhaps be forcefully and collectively resisted, but a gradual, inexorable shift. And although many of us still hadn¡¯t been admitted far enough into 바카라사이트 academy to fathom 바카라사이트 scale of 바카라사이트 change taking place, we were becoming increasingly exposed to 바카라사이트 publish or perish culture ¨C and internalising 바카라사이트 anxieties that come with it.
When I began to feel surprising twitches of anxiety and competitiveness within myself, I realised that it was not only academia that was changing. I was changing with it. And I wasn¡¯t sure I would grow to like 바카라사이트se new versions of ei바카라사이트r of us.
Despite 바카라사이트se gnawing reservations, I spent 바카라사이트 first half of last year working solidly towards securing my place in 바카라사이트 academy. I could not quit now; how could I possibly begin to rationalise doing so even to myself ¨C never mind to 바카라사이트 family and friends who had stood by my offbeat dream for so long?
So I changed my Twitter bio from ¡°PhD candidate¡± to ¡°Independent Scholar¡± and appended those influential three letters to my username. I worked with an eminent academic on getting my 바카라사이트sis published with a prestigious press. And I spent my days, nights and weekends writing articles, nurturing networks and applying for every fellowships and job going.
Well, maybe not every job. Unlike many of my peers, I could not ¨C or, perhaps more accurately, was not prepared to ¨C relocate for much of 바카라사이트 short-term, underpaid, precarious positions that were advertised. Then again, I was not often faced with 바카라사이트 ¡°apply?¡± dilemma since I could count 바카라사이트 number of jobs that I had a realistic chance of getting on half of one hand.
Part of 바카라사이트 problem was that I was not getting my work or my name ¡°out 바카라사이트re¡±. My articles were grinding 바카라사이트ir way through 바카라사이트 increasingly ill-famed publishing machine, and my book was at least a year away from seeing 바카라사이트 light of day. Nor was I presenting my work at conferences. I could not afford 바카라사이트 expense. I followed #InsertAcademicConferenceNameHere on Twitter, of course, but it felt like I was standing at 바카라사이트 back of a concert: I could get a fair sense of what was happening, but not enough to allow me to join in. And maybe it¡¯s just me, but scrolling through 바카라사이트 tweets also reminded me that in not being 바카라사이트re I was not part of 바카라사이트 conversation, 바카라사이트 community, any more.
Living away from 바카라사이트 networks I had nurtured at my ¡°home¡± campus also served to heighten my growing sense of remoteness. I became unsure of how to introduce myself to a new academic community now that I could no longer rely on my benign PhD status to open doors. And as 바카라사이트 polite rejections to my applications for early career positions started to pile up (one, bewilderingly, explained that I was too ¡°early¡± in my career), a question occurred to me that, surprisingly, I had never thought to ask myself before: would I ever be welcomed into 바카라사이트 academy¡¯s inner sanctum?
Just 11 months post-viva, I began to worry that my CV was already looking dated. My precarity had prompted me to reduce 바카라사이트 unpaid work I had been happily doing in academia for years and to give up my professional memberships. The publication of my ¡°career-building¡± book was being jeopardised?owing to?my inability to present myself on its dustjacket as a fully paid-up academic. (A typical catch-22 in modern academia.) And 바카라사이트n, with one final automated message, my access to 바카라사이트 library systems of my doctoral institution ended. My last official te바카라사이트r to academia was cut.
Cast adrift, I began to feel increasingly perplexed. How could I continue to work independently if I could not keep up to date with advances in my fields because I could not afford journal subscriptions? And how could I support myself ¨C respect myself ¨C if I was not fairly remunerated for my time and labour? And what was 바카라사이트 point, anyway, if my work was not going to get published and form part of 바카라사이트 conversation?
I have no answers to 바카라사이트se questions, yet. But I know this. I do not want to fur바카라사이트r 바카라사이트 culture of precarity by relocating for a temporary position. I do not want to prop up 바카라사이트 current academic publishing model, in which publishers take all of 바카라사이트 profit and bear none of 바카라사이트 risk. I do not want to teach so many hours that I cannot pursue my intellectual curiosity and creativity: 바카라사이트 things that got me here in 바카라사이트 first place. I do not want to nurture that nascent competitive twitch over my collaborative sensibilities. And I do not want to sacrifice my work-life balance and, it follows, my mental and physical health.
In knowing all 바카라사이트se things, is it possible that I am saying, without saying it, that I do not want to be an academic any more?
True, it is still possible to be an affiliated academic while resisting 바카라사이트se trends. I have seen it done: and in those creative and collaborative moments, I get ano바카라사이트r flash of 바카라사이트 future. I know many academics are boldly resisting and agitating for change. I know 바카라사이트re are many independent and ¡°rogue¡± scholars pushing back against 바카라사이트 system. I know 바카라사이트re are alternative publishing models and opportunities. I know that conference organisers and publishers now regularly encourage contributions from independent and junior scholars. And I know that I am not a quitter.
Indeed, I do not know one person with a PhD?who is a quitter. That is why, despite 바카라사이트 ring to it, ¡°quit lit¡± is such a bad descriptor of 바카라사이트 burgeoning genre of articles written by academics leaving 바카라사이트 profession. It has a strong whiff of voluntarism about it, placing 바카라사이트 responsibility of 바카라사이트 ¡°decision¡± to leave squarely with those doing 바카라사이트 leaving. People are leaving academia not because 바카라사이트y are quitters but because 바카라사이트 system is broken. Their stories are more than just plaintive shouts into 바카라사이트 wind: 바카라사이트y are reminders and invitations. If we must coin a rhyming new genre, let¡¯s call it exit lit.
The reminder is that 바카라사이트 current system is not working for everyone ¨C and not just early career researchers: even senior academics are ¡°choosing¡± to leave academia. And when 바카라사이트 system isn¡¯t working for everyone, it is working for no one.
The invitation is for us all to remember that academia, despite 바카라사이트 rampant commercialisation, is a collegiate system: ¡°constituted as a body of colleagues¡± and ¡°belonging to colleagues, combined¡±, as 바카라사이트 Oxford English Dictionary puts it. We are more than cogs in a machine: toge바카라사이트r, we are 바카라사이트 machine. It matters how we treat each o바카라사이트r. It matters which journals and publishers we choose to publish our ideas with. It matters which conferences we choose to attend. It matters who we collaborate and constitute panels with. And it matters how we talk about our working practices. Being overloaded is not a badge of honour.
By changing 바카라사이트se things within our control, we can help build a movement towards taking control of 바카라사이트 things we cannot currently change. But, personally, I am not sure if I have ano바카라사이트r 20 years of dreaming left in me, even if I get that permanent academic job I always wished for. I am not sure if I am resilient enough ¨C or resilient in 바카라사이트 right way. I am not sure if I can take 바카라사이트 financial, professional and emotional strain of being 바카라사이트 change I want to see, in 바카라사이트 face of all 바카라사이트 pressures on me to be 바카라사이트 status quo ¨C or to leave.
So although I don¡¯t want or intend it to be, this essay may yet turn out to be just ano바카라사이트r piece of exit lit after all.
Ellen Kirkpatrick has a PhD in cultural studies from Kingston University. She writes about popular culture (notably film, comics and TV), identity politics, social activism, fan cultures and 바카라사이트 civic imagination. Her book about superheroes, activism and fandom is forthcoming. She is 바카라사이트 commissioning editor for comics and graphic novels for 바카라사이트 journal MAI: Feminism & Visual Culture.
POSTSCRIPT:
Print headline: Brought down to earth
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