I had the realization a while ago, around when my daughter was 9 months old, that the way that I was living and working was not sustainable, at least not for me. I had been back at work full time for a few months after my maternity leave, and if I had been writing a memoir, the title would have been I. Am. So. Tired. All. The. Time.
This feeling made sense when I considered the conditions of my life at that moment: working full time, commuting an hour each way to campus, adjusting to parenthood and caring for my baby, struggling with the feelings of inadequacy that many working parents feel—guilt about being away from the baby and guilt about not working enough. Oh, and did I mention, I was in year 4 of a tenure track job? I went up for tenure in year 6, so year 5 was the big year to get ALL THE THINGS DONE. Although I had gotten positive feedback in my annual reviews and had no big red flags, anyone with a history on the tenure track knows how critical this time is. I had one more year to make my case for tenure. Even writing about it now brings up the very real feelings of anxiety from this time.
I was working and working and pushing harder and harder to get things done, and yet there was a little voice I could not quite ignore telling me: “there has to be a better way.”
I needed to find a sustainable way to the job I love, otherwise I would hardly recognize myself as the years went by. I didn’t want my baby’s days to pass by so quickly, and I wanted to be able to enjoy her at each stage. I wanted to enjoy time with my partner, and our dog, and my family when I was able to see them. I wanted to be able to rest, and to spend time on my hobbies and friendships. All of this was feeling so out of balance, and last spring I reached what might be called a breaking point, but was more like a moment of realization.
I was in my annual review meeting with my department chair and the dean, which happens every spring to review my progress and for me to get feedback. The meeting was going well, which was a big relief—I really thrive on reassurance. And somewhere in the middle of that meeting, the dean commented, “you know, nothing really changes when you get tenure.” [As an aside, this comment in and of itself was weirdly reassuring, as everything changes if you don’t get tenure (!!!) and that wasn’t part of the conversation]. My department chair reiterated this sentiment—I should know that nothing big was really going to change! I would keep doing my work, showing up, teaching, researching, being a good community member. OK! I thought, I can do this!
That phrase really resonated with me.
“Nothing really changes when you get tenure.”
I did not have tenure yet, so I could not attest to the truth in that statement. But I could see where they were coming from: in all, getting tenure and promotion is akin to the prize in the pie eating contest being more pie. [At least this tenure metaphor includes a dessert!].
And here’s the thing: I only want to eat more pie if I’m still enjoying the pie. I want to enjoy the pie now. I want my enjoyment of the pie to make winning the pie eating contest feel satisfying and amazing.
And here’s the other thing: if nothing really changes when you get tenure, I needed to change now. I needed to experiment with how I approached my job, the boundaries I placed around my job, how I showed up energetically for my job, NOW. I needed to establish patterns that work for me in shifting towards a healthy, sustainable way of doing this job, so that A) going up for tenure would not burn me out, B) having tenure would feel like something I want (i.e., I want to continue to do this job!), and C) I enjoy the crap out of my life as I’m in it.
This is no small feat. And it’s not something that is happening overnight. But there are a number of small and critical changes I’ve made, and shifts in perspective I’ve learned to sustain that have created a much healthier work/life balance for me. And it’s noteworthy that I didn't wait until tenure to do it. The reality is, I don’t think I could wait. I had a very rough postpartum period and adjustment after having my baby, and taking care of myself wasn’t something that could be put on the backburner. The first shift I made was that I decided to prioritize myself, and taking genuine care of myself, so I could show up for everything else in my life. The somewhat unexpected side effect of this is that I ended up developing a whole set of skills and tools to help me in sustaining this change.
How to Change Your Work/life
So, this is what sustainable academic is about. Subtle shifts, a change in perspective, and showing up for work (and life) in a way that works with your energy instead of against it. It’s finding joy in the work, even the most mundane tasks. And it’s about recognizing that it takes some intentionality to keep going with this shift in perspective, because the default mode is to be right back to feeling stretched too thin, feeling overwhelmed, being reactive, and feeling totally exhausted. And I still find myself there, especially at busy times of the semester, when the emails and requests and students and classes and research is piling up. But now I have a roadmap to find my way out, and it’s a much shorter path to get back to feeling good.
As I prepared to go up for tenure the following year, my main focus was twofold: be as productive as possible, while resting when I need to. At first glance, these may seem like opposites. However, when I’m feeling calm and collected, I remember that productivity and rest go hand in hand. So my challenge in the year preceding my tenure decisions was: rest when I need it. For as long as I need to.*
(*If you’re an academic reading this, I know you might be thinking right now: but—but—what about committee meetings/classes/students emails/collaborators/paper reviews/grant deadlines…. The list can (and does) go on and on.) And I’ll say this: I honor all of my commitments to the best of my ability. I never miss class unless I’m ill, and even then I will make it an online class so we don’t fall behind! [true story—I went to campus the day I was supposed to have my annual review in year 3 even though I didn’t feel so great because it was so important to be there. About 2 hours before my meeting, in a brownbag attended by a large number of faculty in my college as well as the deans, it became apparent that I had the stomach flu. I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up. It was harrowing. And I had an hour drive home, while trying not to vomit. And I felt terrible telling the dean I needed to reschedule. But it was fine! Life went on. And I realized that if I’m not feeling great, I should stay home—even if I have to cancel an important meeting.]
I prioritize all of these things as needed, and I put the most important things first. I work well ahead of deadlines whenever possible to build in flexibility in case I’m feeling run down. I feel run down every week, and try to adjust my schedule to allow for this. I have started selectively saying no to things. I’ve started to keep track of how long things really take. And this includes the energy and time I spend thinking about them, not just the hours doing the actual work. I am very efficient when I am working, and I am deliberate in focusing fully on the task at hand. If I find I’m too tired to focus, it’s a sign that I’m not being efficient and I stop. To be fair, these guidelines apply to the writing and researching work I do on my own. When I’m in a meeting, or meeting with an RA, or I’m in class, I push through even when it feels like I can’t remember half the words in a sentence.
I’ve stopped caring so much about things that don’t concern me, or that I don’t want to give my energy to. That is another practice that takes some work, but it is wholly worth it.
The unofficial results are: I’m still tired a lot, but I don’t feel guilty about it, or about resting. It’s a glorious thing to just take a nap when you need it. I am getting much better about working ahead and watching for deadlines approaching or stacking up. I am unofficially much more productive this year, while also happier and better rested. And now that I’ve received my tenure decision, and I can confirm that “nothing changes,” I feel quite alright about it.