From the monthly archives:

May 2009

Oh, good lord. I spent the last three days at Congress 2009 (the annual Canadian academic love-in) doing interviews, attending sessions on non-academic careers and meeting an array of really interesting people. I’ve also been vexed by problems with the wireless connection (so much for my live blogging idea), so between the schmoozing, the traipsing across Carleton’s campus and internet problems, I have not been able to get on Leaving Academia and keep you apprised of all the great stuff I’ve been learning. I’m heading back to Toronto today, though, so regular daily posts will resume next week. I’ve got lots and lots of information to share with you about what I learned at Congress (not to mention finishing off my transferable skills series), so be sure to come back next week (or make it even easier on yourself by clicking on the subscribe button up there in the right hand corner, to make sure you’re informed of each new post that goes up).

What I’ve got for you today is my first summary from a session I attended at Congress on Wednesday at the “Career Corner” (which I really want to type out as “Kareer Korner,” for some reason). I wasn’t able to live blog the session, but even though this material is now two days old, it’s still tasty fresh. The talk was with David Ainsworth, who works in the Secretariat of the Convention on Biological Diversity for the United Nations. David gave a really great overview of the work he does, how he got in to the UN, and suggestions for MAs and PhDs to get into the UN system. Obviously his talk was addressed at a room full of Canadians, so keep that in mind while you’re reading my summary post here.

Working for the UN can involve a vast array of work, ranging from high-level policy articulation to working on the ground doing international aid. There are a number of different UN agencies that have different mandates. The UN website has descriptions of different jobs. David explained the job classification system:

•    internships
•    short-term contracts and consultancies (contracts usually last a year and don’t pay a lot but are a good way to make contacts usually last a year; consultancies mean being hired for specific skills you have like writing a document; these are short, specialized and lucrative)
•    general service staff (aka locally recruited staff. These are people who do everything from clerical to backup work. They are permanent jobs located in UN member nations, good for someone with an MA, but because there’s a career ceiling, it’s not ideal for someone with a PhD)
•    professional staff (PhD or professional degree is required. These are well-paying permanent or limited-term jobs that are internationally recruited. You get involved in program management)
•    management staff (director-level and above; these are political appointments)

David argued that the subject of your dissertation is important to getting into the UN because your dissertation is your expertise and your calling card. It’s evidence of your link into the UN system. He suggested that if your goal is to work in a UN agency, then think about designing your research and thesis on a topic that is of relevance to particular agency. Do a bit of advance research to make sure that the topic you’re selecting is of relevance to the UN organization you want to work for, and then craft your thesis deliberately. But David also acknowledged that not all grad students are going to want to write a document to fit someone else’s work. You just need to ask yourself: are you doing a PhD to get a job, or is the research itself your passion? Make your decision about how instrumental you want to be based on that.

David emphasized that part of the reason why he found this job was because he was in the right place at the right time—and this has to do with networking. He kept his ear to the ground, listening for opportunities. He had had a contact who worked at the CBD who, years later, called him about working for them. Networking, then, made the difference for him. But David emphasized that networking means more than just collecting business cards. He defined it as the ability to talk about yourself and what you want. You need an elevator pitch that, in just a few sentences, explains what you do and what you’re interested in. This is a presentation skill, which you learn to cultivate in grad school.

To get a UN job, David advised, you’ve got to know somebody. Get to know people who work in the agencies, people who can tell you what’s going on and what the skill needs are. Interview processes are formal but the informal connections make a difference. If someone knows you or knows of your work, it helps to get your foot in the door, but it also helps you perform better in an interview. One way of meeting people is to attend their conferences.

Getting an internship is another way to make those connections and get experience. Internships, though, are hard to come by. Instead, you can find organizations that work with a UN agency and get an internship with them.

You can contact program officers by email, followed up by a phone call. But before you make contact, do your research on the organization. And try to meet people at conferences. Another way of finding people to talk to would be finding contacts for the various UN agencies within your own country. For example, the Canadian Commission for UNESCO can be your first contact into getting into UNESCO.

There is, in some instances, a way of getting into the UN through a process where you write an exam and you become a part of a pool of applicants. The problem is that this process is organized at the national level, and Canada doesn’t do this every year. Moreover, some parts of the UN don’t accept people through this process—including the CBD, where David works.

David emphasized how important it was to have a strategy. Just applying for jobs on the UN website will not be very efficient. It takes a lot of time to fill out the forms (they want your work experience dating back to when you were merely a speck in your mother’s eye). Without meeting people first, doing the online application may not be the best use of your time. You can look at the site to see what jobs are there as a part of your research.

There are a few other minimum requirements, like having experience working abroad and knowing at least two UN languages (the more the better). You also need to make sure your CV is put together—and not an academic CV, but one crafted for your non-academic professional life.

How do you go about crafting one of those? I attended a session by Carolyn Steele on the topic of CVs and resume, and I’ll post my notes from that session for you on Monday.

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I know it’s unusual for me to throw two posts in one day up on the site, but today is an exception. I just want to formally announce that I’ve set up an array of services for those of you who are thinking about leaving academia and need a bit of extra assistance beyond this blog (and the other online resources you may already be accessing).

At the top, you’ll see a “Services” tab, and if you click on the page, you’ll find that I’ve got three kinds of offerings that you might find useful. The first is a series of workshops and seminars that I’m cooking up. These are talks that I conduct either in-person at your campus career centre, departmental meeting, graduate student association, etc. We can also arrange for a webinar or teleconference in the event that time, distance and money prevents us from meeting in person. The workshops are, for the most part, designed to be totally hands-on, so that you’ll actually walk away from the talk with a sense that you’ve moved closer to figuring out whether you want to leave and if so, how. Workshop and seminar topics include:

  • Should I Stay or Should I Go?: Weighing the pros and cons when deciding whether to leave academia.
  • Preparing For Your Non-Academic Career: A workshop designed to show grad students how to cover their bases while still in school–without diverting their attention from getting their degree.
  • Transferable Skills For People Who Feel Like They Don’t Have Any: A hands-on workshop helps participants translate their academic experience into language employers understand. Participants will leave this workshop with a personalized list of their own transferable skills.
  • From CV to Résumé: A hands-on workshop demonstrates how to slash, burn and rewrite an academic CV, transforming it into a killer résumé. Participants arrive with a CV and leave with a draft of their new résumé.
  • Envisioning Your Post-Academic Career: What does life have in store for you after you leave? This workshop will create an opportunity to start picturing what your next career could be, and will identify concrete steps you can take to get there.

These workshops can be combined to make a half-day or full-day presentation of career-change goodness.

The second service I offer is individual advising (typically over the phone). Maybe you feel really stuck and need some help figuring out what direction you should go in. Maybe you feel like you don’t need help over the long haul, but just want a one-hour session converting your CV to a résumé. Maybe you are totally daunted by identifying your transferable skills and need a handful of meetings to sort those out. I can give you that kind of assistance on a one-off or a long-term basis. And if I know I can’t help you, I can recommend a certified life coach who is specifically trained in helping you get to the next chapter in your life (and she’s a former academic, to boot!).

Beyond that, I’m also offering research and consulting services to universities, funding agencies and post-secondary sector agencies.

Why should you hire me? I’ve been through what you’re going through. I survived grad school and made the decision to leave. I’ve transitioned into the private sector and have created a life that I love. I’ve done research into how other former academics landed happily in successful careers. I’m also familiar with the research that’s been done into post-academic careers. I’m up-to-date on the latest trends on résumé-writing. I offer sliding-scale fees, too, depending on your situation. And most of all, I’m totally committed to helping other people make the transition out of academia in a way that minimizes the heartache and emphasizes all of the possibilities your life has to offer you.

If you’re interested in learning more about any of these offerings, please email me at sabine [at] sabinehikel [dot] com.

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Working Women During War by bobster855Administrivia note: I’m off to Ottawa today to attend Congress 2009. That’s the big-ass annual clusterfuck involving thousands upon thousands of Canadian academics converging on the same university all at once. I’m going this year to promote Leaving Academia, do some interviews and talk to people about what’s on their minds regarding non-academic career choices. As a result, my daily posts might go up a little bit later in the day than usual and no podcast will be posted on Thursday. But stay tuned tomorrow for some liveblogging action from the Career Corner, where I’m going to cover three different talks covering non-academic jobs. Are you going to be at Congress? Look for me–I’ll be the one with the big headphones and even bigger microphone. And now, back to our regularly scheduled post.

I officially started off my 5-part transferable skills series on Friday with a quick video overview of my take on how academics could most usefully go about doing the whole transferable skills thingy.

What I didn’t say in the video is that identifying and articulating your transferable skills can be really irritating, frustrating and demoralizing process. But once you get the hang of it, it can be really gratifying, pleasantly surprising, and a real ego boost.

Doing this kind of an exercise–whether you do it according to a career-building guide (you guys saw my 2006 copy of What Colour is Your Parachute!) or just as a personal exercise on your own–is not only critical to your success (IMHO), but it’s also a great place to start when you’re ready to formulate your plan to leave academia.

When you’re searching to get a handle on what your career options are, when you’re trying to sort out what you can offer the world, when you’re struggling to identify which step to take next, doing a transferable skills analysis can begin to clarify those questions for you. Plus it really combats those, “Oh, my god, I’m so useless,” feelings that you may have when quitting/exiting grad school.

Like I suggested in the video, a good place to start is to consider all of the different tasks that you did while in grad school (or in the case of adjuncts or faculty, what you’ve done up to this particular point in your academic career). Write down all of the different kinds of work you did. Your list may look something like this:

•    Teaching
•    My own research
•    Research assistant for Professor Grinch
•    Sat on Blowing Hot Air committee
•    Organized Pedants R Us conference
•    Edited Journal of Self-Importance
•    Rallied the troops on union executive

Once you’ve done that, go through each of the tasks that you executed (whether you did them poorly or well, whether you finished or not, whether you hated or loved them). Figure out what skills you used to do that task. Write them down. And don’t worry at this point about whether or not those skills are useful, unique or lead in the direction you secretly want your life to go. What you’re doing at this point is simply taking an inventory and making your skills visible to yourself.

In the video, I talked about some of the skills involved in teaching, so I’ll use a different example here. Let’s take research, where you used a wealth of skills (yes, I’m talking to the humanities and social science scholars among you, too). You developed an original research question or hypothesis, which itself required critically analyzing existing texts, looking for gaps in research, evaluating existing research for strengths and weaknesses. Guess what? Not everyone can do that. You developed a system for amassing, organizing and using large amounts of data (whether it was qualitative or quantitative). You used various methods, software, note-taking strategies to handle your research information. You used trial and error over and over again to pin down the best way to conduct and organize your research. You demonstrated persistence in getting to where you are now, but you also showed flexibility in being open to where your research took you. You made an argument and you supported it. And so on.

These are skills that ALL doctoral students have—and that not a lot of other people do. These skills are not phrased in fancy language or résumé-speak (that comes later). Some might argue that what I’ve written here include aptitudes and not skills. Whatever. That is not important. What I’m trying to do is give you a sense that while you were in grad school, you were silently cultivating a huge array of transferable skills, and you didn’t even know it. They aren’t obvious to you because they come naturally to you. So it’s a good idea to sit down and try to make them visible to yourself now.

If it’s a given that there are dozens of skills involved in teaching and conducting research, you might wonder what skill is involved in sitting on the department’s Hot Air Committee, or something similarly dull or seemingly insignificant. That’s the kind of stuff that demonstrates you’ve got some pretty basic skills, like time management, time-keeping or taking minutes. Write that stuff down, even if it fills you with horror (“Oh, my god! I can take minutes! Does this mean I’m destined for a life of being a professional minute-taker? This is too demeaning to handle!”). All you’re doing at this point is just taking an inventory, not writing out your life plan.

Once you’ve taken the time to just brainstorm your heart out about all of the skills that were involved in the many tasks you conducted while in grad school, do the same thing for the stuff you did outside of grad school and before grad school. Did you manage to maintain a hobby? Did you volunteer, serve on a board, attend meetings? Stretch your mind out to the different stages and corners of your life and jot down what you did and how you did it.

By the end of this exercise, I guarantee you will have a long and pretty comprehensive list of all the things that you’re good at. That’s got you one step closer to the academic exit door.

If you’re still struggling to do this exercise, I’ve got some resources that will help you. One of the best resources I’ve found for academics doing this kind of thing is at a UK website called Vitae. They have a skills audit page that you can conduct yourself covering seven different areas that academics typically have a range of skills in, like research skills, communication skills, and so forth. They suggest that you rank yourself on a scale for each skill covered. Some of them are a bit wanky, but some of them are quite interesting and useful (“I manage projects effectively through the setting of research goals, intermediate milestones and prioritisation of activities”).

Use their skills audit if you need a bit of extra guidance, but don’t forget to do your skills audit in areas other than just your academic life.

(While you’re at the Vitae site, check out their report on “What Employers Look For.” You may be pleasantly surprised that, according to this study of 236 organizations, employers are looking for people with precisely the skills doctoral students have (e.g. problem solving, leadership, oral communication, etc.). There is also a “Personal and Career Audit” page that you might come in handy, depending on just how far out the academic door you are.)

Once you’ve identified your transferable skills, you need to find a clear way to articulate them to yourself and to your future employer. The Vitae site is one good resource for doing that, but I’ll be exploring this issue further in tomorrow’s post.

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picture-13This week’s podcast, kicking off a fresh batch of blog posts on the topic of transferable skills, is fitting (listen to the first few minutes and you’ll see why). Shane McCleary started off her academic career studying art history, but at the ABD stage and feeling weary of the academic life, Shane called it quits. She has got a story from when she first landed in the job market that will make you wince–but the good news is that Shane ended up putting her smarts, love of culture and bubbly personality to work in the field of film and television sales.

  .
  • 3:00 – 5:00: Her wince-worthy story of when she first hit the job market
  • 5:00 – 6:00: Cold calling, being prepared at interviews and trial and error is what led to her first job
  • 6:00 – 8:00: How she felt like she got out of prison when she left academia [Ed. note: Been there!]; she thought she could switch gears quickly, but the decompression period and transition to talking like a normal person took months [Ed. note: Been there!]
  • 8:00 – 9:00: The difficulties she faced in making the leap
  • 9:00 – 10:00: How she got into sales and why she ended up loving it
  • 10:00 – 11:00: The overlap between sales and academia (presenting, writing, follow-up, persistence, competition).
  • 11:00 – 12:00: The importance of knocking on enough doors to find one person who’ll believe in you and give you a chance.
  • 12:00 – 13:00: Leaving is tough. But take the messages from the sector that you’re getting into, and play down you education if that’s what you’re hearing from prospective employers.
  • 13:00 – 14:00: Don’t doubt yourself because confidence can be the element that helps you climb the ladder.

Download the 15-minute podcast here.

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Buffet by MorrisseyLast week, the Globe and Mail (one of Canada’s national newspapers) asked, “Should you go to grad school?” and answered with “Yes and no.” There’s a Facebook discussion on this matter at the Globe Campus Facebook page, in case you’d like to offer your own experience on the issue. Katie from Twenty-Something weighed in on the matter and said something that I think gets left out all too often in this kind of discussion:

I can also thank grad school for my current perspective on the world, for a stronger sense of self, for a greater degree of confidence in my abilities, and of course, greater maturity. Grad school was my trial by fire, and I think I came out on the other end a better person because of it. It didn’t make me more employable. It didn’t ensure I got a better salary when I did join the workforce. But…I did something I truly loved, and from that perspective, grad school had (and still has) immense value to me.

In my tooling around, I also found this person over here asking people why they had quit grad school. Some of the answers aren’t especially illuminating, but some of them are really interesting. Hands down, the one I thought was the best (i.e. greatest combo of funny and smart) was written by someone called Mason Dixon (whose website can be traced to Boston Sutras) who wrote:

I am completely serious: Do you feel full? You know deep down if you are full or not.

When people ask me why I quit I I tell them: “I was full so I got up from the table and quit eating,” and that is what it felt like to me.

The prospect of cigars in the parlor with those who finished dinner was not a strong enough lure to keep me sitting there stuffing my gob –even though the food was fine. I said, “Thank you, Good Night and Goodbye.”

I decided that if I want to learn more about “X”, I’ll do my own snacking later. I have yet to have any regrets about it.

So chew on that, Leaving Academia readers. Do you feel full?

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Oy, vey. Way back here, I had promised Leaving Academia readers that I would post a series on transferable skills. It’s taken me a while to deliver, but here is this video is the first in the series, which I’ll be covering next week (starting on Tuesday, since Monday I’ll be posting a fresh podcast, as per usual). The video is an overview of what I’ll be covering next week. Check it out, and let me know in the comments section if you found getting this kind of info via video was useful or not, and if you’d like to see more video posts on Leaving Academia.

Tackling transferable skills for academics, part one from Sabine Hikel on Vimeo.

Update: this series got extended into the following two weeks (part two on May 26, parts three, four and five area appearing June 4, 5 and 9th), so you can find the subsequent posts in the series by clicking on “transferable skills” in the tag cloud.

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Sharon BladySharon Blady is an NDP MLA (Member of the Legislative Assembly) in the Manitoba provincial legislature (for my American readers, this means Sharon is an elected representative in the government of one of Canada’s ten provinces). Sharon has ABD status in her Ph.D. program in women’s studies at York University in Toronto. How did she go from critiquing government policy to forming government policy? I phoned her at her office at the legislature in Winnipeg to find out.

In this podcast, you’ll hear:

  • 1:30 – 2:15: Sharon discusses her dissertation research
  • 2:15 – 4:00: Sharon’s academic research does link to her work as an MLA. But this is not the line of work she thought she was going to go into
  • 4:00 – 7:00 : How she thought she could translate material that she taught into the civil service or working as a consultant in the private sector
  • 7:00 – 9:00: But then someone asked her to run for office. “But I’m an academic!” she thought, and a shit-disturber, to boot
  • 9:00 – 10:00: The transition to politics has had its moments
  • 10:00 – 12:20: Why teaching is still her passion, why she misses her students and why the students are the reason she does the work that she does now
  • 12:20 – 13:45: How she brings her academic experience into policy-making
  • 13:45 – 15:00: Her view on being a woman and a feminist in politics
  • 15:00 – 16:00: Why the transition to politics has been a good fit
  • 16:00 – 17:30: Sharon’s plan to return to academia full-time
  • 17:30 – 20:00: Her advice on thinking through transferable skills

Listen to the 21-minute podcast here.

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Classic college campus scene by acidcookieA few interesting articles I’ve found floating around on the interwebs this morning:

  • There’s this piece at Slate about Matthew Crawford, the Ph.D. who became a motorcycle mechanic and wrote a book about it (Shop Class as Soul Craft).
  • In the U.S., the Council of Graduate Schools is initiating a new study of completion rates among Master’s degree students, along the lines of the Council’s Ph.D. Completion Project.
  • If you’re interested in jobs in the university sector but not necessarily as faculty, check out this piece on working in academic advising, this one on working in academic administration,

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Jobs in Town - Alemania by Arturo deAlbornozOkay, this post is going to be of the snake-biting-its-tail variety, so stay close. You know that Mark C. Taylor piece that the New York Times ran a few weeks ago? One of the letters they ran in response to it was this one from James F. Mahon:

Doctoral programs that fail to place their graduates in research positions should not respond by attempting to become M.B.A. or M.P.A. programs. Instead, they would better serve their prospective students by setting the right expectations through full disclosure of their recent graduate placement history. With this information, applicants could make informed decisions when choosing a graduate school.

Makes sense, right? I think this is the angle that I’ve been taking so far here at Leaving Academia: departments need to tell potential and current grad students what they can expect from their program based on what previous students got out of it.

But in response to that Times letter, Michael Elliott over at The Edge of the American West wrote a great post on the whole topic of doctoral students and placement rates. Elliott complicates just what the hell “placement rate” is supposed to take into account (and queries–not simply as an academic exercise, either–what “placement” even means these days). But he also says this:

This is not to say that we shouldn’t keep pressing for disclosure about employment. And I think everyone who teaches in a PhD program should be forced to consider carefully the employment of its graduates. … [It's] crucial to ask what percentage of graduates end up teaching in the academy, what percentage of those are on the tenure-track, and what other kinds of positions graduates hold.

Finally, graduate programs should calculate the average time that it takes those who seek tenure-track positions to secure them. (The national average is that it takes just over ten years from the time that a student enters graduate study.) Programs should then ask what kind of financial resources — including temporary teaching employment — their universities can provide to cover that whole duration, including the period that extends beyond when the students actually receive their degrees. Those programs that cannot identify adequate resources to cover that full spread of time should take a hard look at themselves.

I completely agree with this take–or I did until I looked at the comments section for the post. There’s some really good stuff there, including the wonderful Bitch Ph.D.’s take:

Placement also conveniently ignores the dropout rate and how many people end up ABD, both of which also mask the realities of doctoral education. The “informed decision” meme is really irritating, because it really is impossible to be informed about profound demoralization and anxiety before experiencing it. It’s like saying that people who are addicted should “just quit,” or something.

How true is that? Similarly, before you give birth to a child, you’re like, “Okay, it’s gonna hurt. I’ve prepared myself. But it’ll be worth it.” But you simply cannot know the pain until you’ve fully descended into the depths of the hot, burning hell. It’s like with grad school. You’ve browsed the interwebs and seen lots of cranky grad students and faculty complaining about shit. You’re a bit puzzled, but maybe you think, “Okay, getting a Ph.D. is gonna be tough.”

But it’s not until you’ve had your first proper mental breakdown that you really know what those people are talking about. Even worse, every person who enters a doctoral program secretly thinks that it is she or he who shall be the one who shall be good enough and smart enough to be the one out of the cohort to finish first and get a tenure track job. So they know it’s gonna be tough…but they might be the one to squeeze their baby out in record time and have an orgasmic birth. Right. Good luck with that.

All of this stuff is excellent fodder for really thinking through what responsibilities graduate schools have and should have to their students. What do you think would be the best way program directors could give students a realistic snapshot of the career trajectories of not only its graduates but the folks who left before finishing?

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Working Like a Dog by KM PhotographyLast Wednesday, there was a piece in the Chronicle with some pretty shocking (and yet not surprising) numbers about how much contingent labour is used in the American university system. Now, I am too cheap to buy a web subscription to the Chronicle, so I chose not to pay to read the full article. But here’s part of the free bit:

At community colleges, four out of five instructors worked outside the tenure track in 2007. At public research institutions, graduate students made up 41 percent of the instructional staff that year. And at all institutions, the proportion of instructors working part time continued to grow.

The report, “The State of the Higher Education Workforce, 1997-2007,” shows that the proportion of instructional staff members not on the tenure track — including graduate students — increased from two-thirds to 73 percent over that period.

These numbers are pretty astonishing and are a confirmation of what a lot of people have been observing anecdotally for a while. I haven’t searched out equivalent numbers of Canada, but I would be surprised if they were much different.

But there was another really interesting aspect to this, too, that I found out when I checked out the report itself, conducted by the American Federation of Teachers. There is a rise in contingent labour in the university sector, and guess what correlates with that? A rise in the number of women in that pool of contingent labour!

Historically, men have represented the majority of higher education’s instructional workforce.  However, the number of women in the instructional workforce grew at a faster rate than men between 1997 and 2007; the number of women grew 48 percent compared with 21 percent for men (Table 3).  By 2007, women accounted for nearly one-half—46 percent—of faculty and instructor positions.  However, the growth was disproportionately in the area of contingent faculty positions, as both men and women saw an erosion of full-time tenured and tenure-track positions.

Like Marx’s reserve army of labour, women have been taking on a greater share of the exploited labour in academe. How surprising (note sarcasm).

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