On February 2, 2008, I had the closest thing to a nervous breakdown I'd ever experienced. I literally stayed in bed the entire weekend exhausted and scared. Scared I was going to lose my job, the house, my family. Tying my feelings to my job, I made three phone calls after that weekend to friends outside of the Academy to see what my options were. I was this close to leaving. Each of them returned my call within five minutes. I then called four friends IN the academy to tell them I was thinking about leaving.
Obviously I didn't leave. But I was this close.
I went to see my doctor and she put me on anti-depressants. I stayed on them for about a month, then quit because I didn't like the side-effects. Which meant I had to figure out a non-medical route. Self-medication wasn't really an option.
But writing was. In 2008 it became possible to post privately in wordpress. I know the exact date of my breakdown because I was able to go back through my private posts to get the date. I tried to document my little successes as best as I could. And I created a manifesto of sorts for what I wanted to be about, what I wanted to do. What articles I wanted to publish. What books I wanted to write. What type of parent I wanted to be. What type of friend I wanted to be. What type of partner I wanted to be.
I shared what I was going through with a few work colleagues. I was counseled not to tell my chair what I was going through, was counseled not to tell anyone in the department. And implicitly I was counseled to leave. I should have ignored the first two pieces of advice–depression isn't and shouldn't be something you hide, particularly given the challenges of the academy. This past week, Erica Kennedy, author of Feminista and Bling died, allegedly taking her own life. Some suggest she did so because she didn't reach out.
I didn't miss a beat at work. I didn't miss a day of class. Didn't miss a deadline. And I was there to the extent I could be for my family. But for a while it was touch and go.
Somewhere around 2008 I came out of it. Well, this isn't accurate–I didn't come out of depression as much as I learned to manage it. And come December 31, 2008 I decided to use my fortieth year, 2009 to take back what I thought I'd lost. I sold my first book. I finally had several breakthroughs on the article front. I ended up winning Teacher of the Year. And I'd made progress on two other books–a shorter book of essays, and a longer academic project.
I wasn't out of the woods yet. One of the things I struggled with was my family's economic situation–being the primary breadwinner of a family of seven on the east coast is incredibly hard. But in 2010, after Bank of America came after the house yet again I decided that I would no longer let them own me. I figured BoA had a significant backlog, and wouldn't come for me until my tenure decision came down. I was literally THIS close to getting another job offer–literally two votes away (the school I applied to had a two-thirds rule that i just missed). That devastated me–I remember coming home and my youngest daughter drew me a picture saying it was ok to cry.
I did.
I was in a race against time. Which would come first, the foreclosure notice or the tenure decision? One of the things that kept me sane here was my Detroit roots–I knew that worse case scenario, I could get a cheap cheap cheap house in Detroit and commute a couple of days a week if I had to.
My book finally came out in June 2011 a few months before my tenure case was due. I had three good chapters of my next book project. In August 2011 I submitted my package (a file containing everything i'd published along with my cv and a research statement).
Now the year you go up for tenure is supposed to be the most stressful year of your life.
Me? I wouldn't recommend this as a coping strategy, but having a minor mental breakdown, and being threatened with foreclosure, tends to smooth the tenure process out. I decided to take the tenure year to work on projects that had more to do with my political and non-academic intellectual interests. The Baltimore Mixtape Project. Occupy Baltimore. Nobody's Coming (the tentative title for my non-academic book). My photography.
The tenure process at Hopkins requires two votes. The department votes on you, then if that vote is positive it goes to the Academic Council. If that vote is positive then it's reviewed and if everything works out, you're good.
I received the first positive vote in November, on a Tuesday while I was teaching. That gave me solace. I don't know what the vote was. I don't know what the conversation was–both are private. But while I felt in my head I'd done what I was supposed to, the department vote affirmed it.
But the Academic Council vote was another matter entirely. The department process was at least semi-transparent. I gave them a list of names they COULD contact and a list of names they could NOT contact. The Academic Council process was lead-lined. I couldn't see through it if I had x-ray vision. I didn't know when the vote would be held. Didn't know where they were in the process. Didn't know ANYTHING.
It was ok though. I continued work on my other projects. I still had serious life challenges, not just economic ones. But through it all I managed to maintain my sanity and my health.
May 19 was my middle son's birthday. I was supposed to watch him play soccer, then take him and a few of his friends to see The Avengers. So I grabbed my cellphone was I was about to head out, and I checked my email.
I got one from my chair.
"Promotion."
My chair wanted to make sure I'd gotten the voicemail that he left for me saying I had been promoted, because he wanted me to know before he told the rest of the department.
I sat and cried for two minutes.
Then sent a status update to Facebook. The best one I think I'd EVER typed–and I've been on Facebook since 2004.
………..
I've been working for this thing since I started graduate school in Fall 1993. One wife, five children, three states, two schools, four houses/apartments, one book, thirteen articles, about 30-40 appearances on local radio/television, approximately 110 NPR appearances, approximately 500 blog posts, later…I now know I'm staying.
And it's a good feeling. A few years ago, when I didn't know what the hell would happen to me, I created a video entitled "Thoughts on Turning 40". I'm so glad I had the wherewithal to realize what was happening and the support (both real and virtual) to pull everything together. Three years ago I literally had to call a new life into being. And had the help to do so. Again, I'm not out of the woods. But I can see it from here. Thank you.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHe7T8i1XPc[/youtube]
http://t.co/U9dZBIik – @lesterspence offers a touching account of his path to tenure.
I am a Professor of Political Science and Africana Studies at Johns Hopkins University.
update your homepage magne…,
I did. I used to be an Assistant Professor–I guess a professor in training. Now (or more accurately, as of July 1) I am (will be) an Associate Professor.
lol, my bad…, I don’t know the distinctions, but be that as it may, congratulations. Now what you gotta do in order to be an Institute Professor and Director of the Department? You know, get your full Skip Gates on and whatnot?
i’m thinking a followup post is “what next”. to do the skip gates type thing, i’d have to figure out a way to take my various interests and boil them down in such as a way as that boiled down thing naturally lends itself to an institute of sorts. and simultaneously make that thing so hot that someone would naturally want to give me the loot to do it.
I am glad you made it. I have worked in various jobs at the University of Iowa for many years, and number many academics as friends, and an abiding topic of conversation is how debilitating and needlessly stressful the academic system has become. It was bad enough 40 years ago, but since then, more people compete for fewer and fewer tenured positions, and the process of achieving tenure has become unimaginably stressful. It’s amazing that anyone runs that gauntlet and comes out the other side with anything left.
The most horrifying commentary on this system came after the shooting rampage at the University of Iowa in 1991, when Gang Lu killed several professors because of his disappointments over his academic career. I was working with a person who had recently bailed out of the PHD program in Mathematics. Her commentary on Gang Lu’s murders and suicide was “I hate to say it but I know exactly how he feels.”
In order to survive in the Academic environment, one has to be bright, creative, and extremely tough. It’s enduring a slow motion hazing by soft-spoken people who have raised passive-aggressive behavior to a high art. I’m glad you made it, and I know a lot of people who have survived and flourished despite the system. But I feel that there’s a vast cadre of people who have what it takes to do significant work in their fields, who end up washing out because they can’t handle the inhumanity of the system. I think that’s a crime, and it’s high time that we figure out a better way to do things.
yes. it is a crime. and thank you.
Lester K. Spence on depression, gaining tenure and living : http://t.co/cJ1IEZjb
A powerful and humbling and inspiring story. Tenure, as well as the stability and credibility that it entails, came at exactly the right time for me and my family. And I hope the same will be true for you and yours.
My best to you and yours, and I hope that earning a lifelong (life choice?) stature is just the launching pad for even better things to come.
Wow…. So glad to hear this news, Lester! Glad for you, your family, your students and for the rest of us trying to find our own place (in academia or elsewhere) because you give us hope. Thank you for your honesty and sharing your story.
Dr. Spence – this is outstanding. Excellent. I am so proud of you.
Wow. And wow. Thank you for sharing this–and being brutally honest about a pretty confounding process. AND CONGRATULATIONS. Welcome to your (new) yard!
i first read this out of interest. now i come back for strength.
Lester:
You are a brave and beautiful brother. I can’t wait to see where you go from here.
I often think about the NCOBPS conference in DC–You, Heather Dash, Leniece Davis, Fred Harris, Rob Brown, and me helping the band out with background vocals. It is one of my most treasured memories.
Much love and congratulations on “making it through” and helping us find meaning in this difficult journey.
Andrea