Bits of Early Summer

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been pushing out some papers and tending to my mentoring and editorial duties, while also trying to get as much rest as I can before I start summer teaching. So I’ve been reading a lot; Kindle app informs me I’ve read 63 books since the start of the year, which makes it just under 3 books per week on average. In reality, it’s definitely been fewer than that during the semester (1-2/week at the most, with some weeks skipped completely) and more since the classes ended (4+/week). I’m getting my money’s worth out of Kindle Unlimited and then some. It’s funny, I moved from TV and movies to reading almost exclusively; I don’t know if all this reading is a consequence of or a reason for reduced video entertainment. It seems like there’s nothing good on Netflix or Amazon Prime. OK, I know that’s not true, but most of the time that’s what it feels like, because I usually browse and come up empty. (Except for Danish and Norwegian shows. I will watch any show cooked up in the far north; I don’t care about the genre. I want them all!)

Otherwise, my group has been moving labs. We have some new undergrads starting out, some internal money coming in. I still have a gazillion pending grants, and we’re entering that humiliating stage where they’ve been pending for 6+ months and I am starting to get my hopes up, whereas it will turn out that  all this has been is one giant administrative delay after another on the road to inevitable declinations. 

In fiction news, some nice acceptances. I wrote like a fiend in 2020, then some pretty disheartening grant declinations took the wind out of my sails and I wrote very little and very poorly in 2021. I am pleased to report that I might’ve gotten my fiction mojo back, at least for now, and the stuff I’m producing is of higher quality than before, so it appears some leveling up might’ve happened. This goes to show that periods of hibernation, of reduced activity, are necessary for growth and development.  This holds for fiction as well as research, and I’d say probably for any creative endeavor. Or any human endeavor, really. Big changes require a lot of stored energy. 

Last but not least, Eldest has graduated college (!) and Smurf has finished elementary school (!). Long-time readers might remember that I posted about Smurf’s birth on the now-defunct Academic Jungle blog back in 2011. Well, Smurf will be 11 this month. (Inset the obligatory “Time flies!” quip here.) 

How’ve you been, blogosphere? What’s been on your mind? Let me know in the comments. 

Till next time, here’s some Twitter-sourced levity. 


Invited to Dance

A few months ago, I met up with a former department colleague who had moved to another institution nearly a decade ago. It was really nice to catch up. His significant other is in the same technical field as we are, and she works as a (nonacademic) research scientist. As we chatted, the colleague said how his significant other “expects to be invited to dance” (in the sense that she waits to be offered opportunities or invited to contribute), while men never do. He attributed this expectation of hers to her current dissatisfaction with her professional trajectory.

I have thought about what he said many times since we met. I know exactly what he meant, and I know exactly what he described, and at the same time I feel a deep kinship with the woman scientist and an understanding of what she wants and expects, what she believes is expected of her; most of all, I feel her frustration with being overlooked and ignored.

I also feel exhaustion after two decades of playing by the rules made for someone else, on a playfield meant for someone else, among players who are all very different from me. Recently, I was part of a new collaboration. It started with me and a colleague I know well, and another colleague of said colleague. Then there was another, and another, and another, and all of a sudden there’s this big team (other than me, all men), and everyone is talking all over one other, and people are pulling and pushing in different directions, and it is just a mess. This type of dynamics always makes me want to flee. I don’t enjoy these pissing contests and I have no patience for herding cats. The fact that modern funding mechanisms all seem to favor large collaborations with this type of dynamics is definitely not a great thing in my book.

Collaborations depend on the people in them and can’t just be thrown together haphazardly. I have several long-term collaborators, but I have also had probably 3-4x more that were short term. There has to be enough technical complementarity and mutual respect in order for things to work long-term. Often, one of the ingredients is lacking. Often, the lacking ingredient is the second one.

I think of my former colleague’s partner, and her expectation to be invited to dance. I don’t blame her. I think I expect that, too. We as women in the physical sciences STEM, where 10-15% of us is still the norm, are always entering rooms full of men, conversations full of men, collaborations full of men. We are always being evaluated and devaluated by men. Behavior expectations we have to adhere to are those made for men. There is nothing inviting, nothing welcoming about the whole enterprise of science, because it is made by men and for men, who seem intent on measuring metaphorical d*cks and hazing each other all the way to retirement. We women are among hostile native inhabitants of our professional fields, where we need to play by the rules that are often antithetical to how we were socialized to behave, and many (most?) of our strengths are considered to lie somewhere between a nuisance and an unforgivable weakness. Our judgement and qualifications are questioned at every turn, regardless of how senior or accomplished we are.

It is an exhausting, dispiriting predicament to spend one’s career being told, often obliquely but sometimes less so, that the reason you are not a more successful scientist is that you are not very good at being a male scientist.

May Flowers Make You Sneeze

It’s finals week. I have a mountain of grading.

I decided I would take it easy this week, so I am rested for next week, when I really need to push some papers out in the month before onerous summer obligations start. This planned week of rest involves grading, committee work, and trying to clear out the backlog in my editorial duties, a proposal review, a preproposal review, and two manuscript reviews. Said rest means I will spread them out and not do them all in one day.

My computer at work died. Which is fine, actually, as I’d never moved back into it after the pandemic. My home desktop is still my main desktop.

Once you are 100+ papers into your career, it’s hard to get excited about additional ones going out. They are exciting for graduate students, and necessary to keep the career going, but there’s a definite ‘meh, been there, done that’ aspect to it.

I had such a humongous class this past semester, I think it broke me a little, or a lot. All the accommodations, then makeups for COVID and other stuff like athletic meetings, and finally both COVID and accommodations… I wrote multiple versions of every test. It was a lot.

I still have a million pending grants.

It’s so important to get along with colleagues day-to-day. I don’t think we emphasize that enough, being in a functional department, where disagreements happen, people discuss issues, and then everyone moves on.

We all focus on external recognition and citations and accolades from people who barely know us, when so much of life satisfaction comes from what we do, or don’t do, on a daily basis. I think it’s helpful to remember this.

Given all the stuff I now have to do this summer, I am sad that I won’t have the time to spend on my extracurriculars (Academaze sequel and my novel). I hope at least one of them happens, though, probably the novel, as I’m more excited about that than I am about sifting though the blog archives, if I am being completely honest. But now that I wrote it down, I’m having second thoughts. Maybe the Academaze sequel would be more manageable? Decisions, decisions.

Speaking of the novel, even if I squeeze out 500-1000 words per day, which isn’t too hard, I should have a draft in a few months. Plus I have writer friends on this journey — gourd, that sounds cheesy; but I do have friends who are in the same boat, so facing similar challenges at the same time should be helpful.

I have fallen down the Bridgerton rabbit hole and have yet to find my way out. Season 2 is 🔥🔥🔥!

This post title brought to you by all the sneezing students in today’s exam.

How’s life/end of semester/2022 treating you, blogosphere?

Fifteen-minute stream-of-consciousness post

Inspired by gwinne, I give you a 15-min stream-of-consciousness post.

  • One more week left in the semester (after this week). I can’t wait. I am completely exhausted. Huge undergrad class plus grad class as overload.
  • I could spend 40+ hours per week doing nothing but teaching and service and meeting with students and collaborators. Teaching and associated grading and office hours have taken a ton of time this semester. I am on a bunch of personnel-related committees, including one search that was moderately dramatic but ultimately successful. I am an associate editor for two journals, one of which keeps me very busy. I write letters for people’s tenure, promotions, awards.  I review papers and proposals. I spend hours in meetings of various kinds. This has been a persistent issue with this job — the fact that you have to fight hard to find the time to do the one aspect of your job that you trained hard for and are uniquely positioned to do. I will never get used to it.
  • I had grand plans for the summer but have since been roped into department-benefitting activities. I have mixed feelings about it. There will be extra payment, and now I have a good excuse not to travel overseas. But still, mixed feelings. In addition to pushing out papers and proposals, I was going to spend some time on the second installment of Academaze (I have a cool cover already done and all) and on my novel, but I think those will have to wait.
  • It’s been two years since my 2020 sabbatical (which was supposed to be restorative, but instead got eaten by the pandemic) ended, and I am ready for the next one. Although, after the pandemic, isn’t everyone?
  • My group is supposed to move labs in a couple of weeks. I feel exhausted just thinking about it.
  • I feel exhausted thinking about summer vacation. I just wanna be left alone to read and watch shows.
  • Still in grant limbo for like a million grants. I could be broke or flush next year. Everything is still up in the air.
  • We (academia) have spent a lot of time and energy making sure the students are supported through the pandemic etc. Nobody gives a shit about faculty or staff. Although I don’t actually know who it is who’s supposed to give a shit, to be honest. My own experience of being an adult is that others always lean on me, and I never have anyone to lean on. It’s exhausting always having to have one’s shit together. On the one hand, I remind myself that I am an adult and should cut the whining; of course I should always have my shit together. On the other hand, I don’t so much need someone to lean on as much as I wish others wouldn’t lean on me quite so much, you know? Like, I can hold myself up fine, but it gets to be too much to always have to prop a bunch of other people and all their issues, too.
  • Required flexibility and accommodations for students during instruction and testing have become insane. For the second midterm in the giant undergraduate class, I had to administer four separate tests. The main test, then one for the people with documented accommodations (in a separate building that helps with that), then another one the week after for traveling athletes and students who were ill (wrote a new test for this), and then yet another one two weeks later for those who were ill even longer. I don’t know who I’m expecting to help with all this, tbh, I just wish there were someone  to do it all who’s not me. I am resentful of all the time and effort I have to spend on coordinating all this, none of which requires a PhD.
  • Today was my dedicated day for research. ROFL. Of course I have to grade a bunch of grad-student assignments, since I’ve neglected that class in favor of the huge undergrad one, and I have to catch up on reviewing papers.
  • Sometimes I think academic jobs are pure insanity. Other times, I feel there is no place I’d rather be. Most of the time, it’s both.
  • Among other things, being a grownup means wanting/needing validation and reassurance as much as ever, but knowing that it’s never coming. Knowing you’re supposed to be a source of perpetual drive, ideas, and positivity not just for yourself but for your research group and your family. Being able to have it all drained endlessly and still somehow always keep going. Cue novels and TV shows, my escapist attempts at replenishing what is constantly siphoned away.

How’ve you been, academic blogosphere? 

Hagventures in Teaching

I’ve been having a few very disappointing days at work. Or was it weeks?

The most dispiriting aspect is that, regardless of how senior I am, there will always, always, be crap that I wouldn’t have to deal with if I were a dude. And it’s all young men dishing out the bullshit.

A former student being extremely disrespectful over one of the papers that were left unfinished when he graduated and left. All papers but one have been published in the interim; this is the last one left. Former student has issues with the speed of these papers getting out sans his involvement (god forbid I slow down for COVID or burnout or any normal human condition) and the involvement of the students who are still in the group. The email I received was beyond hurtful, especially because I know I have done my absolute best to champion and support this former student. I guess now I know how he really views me.

A kid who is taking a sophomore-level required class as a senior, needs to graduate this semester, but isn’t doing well in the class at all. Takes passive-aggressive jabs at me in class, which I have to ignore or laugh away because nothing good comes out of having a blow-up in a huge lecture hall. He is all aggrieved because he’s doing poorly, which stems from his shockingly bad preparion in both physics and math, but it’s apparently all my fault and I’m supposed to just absorb the nonsense.

A kid who demands more and more explanations in class of why this one quantity exists, because this quantity sure is pissing him off. After I’ve offered him half a dozen different explanations, including why this quantity is important and where it is found and what intuitive information it carries and how it connects to the rest of the course and to the material in other courses, he says, “That’s not what I want.” Like he’s a customer and I am an idiot customer service rep, and he wants his money back.

Hubs says it’s 100% because I’m a woman and that they would never act like this with a similarly aged dude.

I hoped I’d be done with this shit by now — the aggrieved entitlement, alongside a complete lack of self-reflection —  but no, it never ends. There are always new cocky boys ready to take on the uppity old hag.

Granted, not the whole class is like this. It’s just a few individuals with chips on their shoulders, while the rest are really nice.

But the few, oh those few.

And I am so, so tired of it.

When Life Stinks, Have Some Links

Extremely busy, so, for now, some links:

Random Bits of Thursday

Before the pandemic, hubs and I loved to go to a local comedy club. We’d usually catch the late Saturday show (there’s one in the early evening and another one late).

For the most part, research-active faculty in my department teach one course per semester (there is a formula involving amounts of grant money, number of advised research students, number of papers and proposals, etc., versus teaching expectations for a given year). However, due to booming enrollments, we sometimes have teaching overload. I happen to do well in the classroom with undergraduates, so I teach large-enrollment undergraduate courses more often than most (I actually like teaching undergrads, but it still doesn’t make it fair that people get to suck at teaching and get rewarded for it with small graduate classes and thus extra research time; however, this is a rant for another day). This semester, I have  teaching overload, in that I have a huge-enrollment undergraduate class with discussion, and a graduate class in my specialty. I teach them both on the same days.

I don’t know how it is for truly extroverted people, but I have to get into performance mode for teaching. I get pumped (loaded with adrenaline) before class in order to prance around, talk loudly, draw and do math on the board, and make nerdy dad jokes. And then a little while later I have to do it again. When I am done for the day after the undergraduate class, I feel completely drained. I sit in my office for close to an hour just trying to reset before I can go home.

This must be how those comedians feel after that second show on Saturday night.


This semester is kicking my butt. Three days are taken by teaching and meetings, one more day with non-stop meetings (literally nonstop, 9-6), and finally one day where I do get a chance to do something requiring some thought. Weeks really fly by, but it feels a bit like madness.


A writer friend of mine who had a successful law career has sold a couple of novels and now actually writes full time. I am in awe and very proud of them. When we last chatted, they said there was huge pressure to make subsequent books do well (they’re working on their third, and the second is about to come out). Not sure why it surprised me to hear about the pressure, it should be a no-brainer really, but it did. The friend is living the dream (they wanted to be a full-time writer and they are) but it might be an anxiety dream.

There is never no pressure.


I may or may not be writing a novel. I may or may not have already have a pretty detailed outline and I may or may not have already run it past two trusted writer friends / beta readers. There may or may not be pretty detailed character sheets in my mind at least. I may or may not be insane to take this on in addition to everything else.


I did just get some really nice accolade (with money) from my institution.


Even if I write the novel and I sell it and it does well, I don’t think I’ll ever be as brave as that writer friend of mine to go writing full time. Maybe after ten novels that sell well. Make that twenty. Make that becoming Stephen King.


If you’ve read this far, here’s a nice Easter egg for you: I will be putting out a new book based on the blog. I am planning it for early fall. I have awesome cover design commissioned already. It will be very different from Academaze in content (mostly the last five years), but also intent and tone. I’m really excited to work on it this summer.


I’ve always battled doing too much by taking on even more, with the extra being the stuff I actually want to do. Counterintuitive, but it helps. With lost of passion projects, I have plenty of exciting nuggets to intersperse among the less-enjoyable activities. Like tiny joy-filled cushions.


What have you been up to, blogosphere? How’s early 2022 treating you?

No Life When Junior, No Retirement When Senior

So I talked to a colleague who’s more-or-less my contemporary, and he said he didn’t know what he would do when he retired. (I didn’t say anything, because I sure as hell know what I will do, and am looking forward to it.) Anyway, I feel that this inability to imagine life beyond the job is the reason why so many faculty take a very long time to retire — they feel there is little for them on the other side. My former advisor retired at 80; I know for a fact that he didn’t want to retire because he did not know he would do with himself if he didn’t work. Had he retired at, say, 70, given his huge salary, two junior people could’ve worked in his stead for a decade for the same money; they would’ve been able to shoot their shot at an academic career, get tenure, maybe even get promoted to full prof. My colleague’s former advisor is in his mid-seventies and not thinking about retiring yet. Both former advisors are people who have families, so there are presumably some loved ones to spend time with. But I have a colleague from another department who has completely sacrificed his personal life for the career; who will he spend the retirement with?

In my department, we’ve been fortunate to hire a number of junior faculty over the past several years. I am blown away by how much they all work and how good they all are. I do feel we make them waste too much time on activities that don’t directly help their careers but consume both time and energy. The current department leadership has their heart in the right place (centered on good climate, good student experience, etc.), but is a little too procedure-, paperwork-, and service-happy. There are way more committees (by a factor of two or three) than when I first started out, yet the department somehow functioned back then, too. Junior folks are being pushed to put their boundless energy into initiatives that I personally think are a waste of time for all faculty, largely because the college already has many staff who are paid to do those jobs, and, judging by the deluge of vacuous emails we get spammed with, said staff are in desperate need of some actual work.

We drain junior people of their time and energy, like institutional vampires, without thinking twice if what  we require them to do is actually necessary, and without asking what they give up in order to fulfill these expectations. By making them overwork under the duress of seeking tenure, we stand in the way of them finding respite and fulfillment outside of their jobs. For example, we have a decent number of female faculty. Yet, here has not been a single one either before me or after me who’s had a child on the tenure track. I am still the only one who’s ever done it, and I did it with some confidence because I’d already had a kid in graduate school and knew what to expect. Young men faculty do have kids with their “civilian” wives and enjoy the tenure-clock extensions, while young women faculty simply do not dare even go there. This infuriates me. The parental accommodations ended up being yet another boon for the demographic that already has everything working for them, but it didn’t do much for the demographic that actually needs it. Yes, there are tenure-clock extensions, but we still don’t have actual leave for women faculty who give birth (post-tenure women often use their sabbaticals), and we all pretend like childbirth and early motherhood aren’t ridiculously more physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing on the mother than the father. This blatant inequality forced through artificial equality makes me so angry.

But I digress.

I am on the faculty mentoring committee for some junior folks, and I consider it my role to have their back: I am there to advise them, but also to throw my weight around on their behalf when they need something they are either too uncomfortable to ask for or they’re getting pushback on from the leadership.

Our fucking jobs should not be all-encompassing. And the service roles should be few and far between.  We should shield each other from bullshit, not help propagate it. And we should not be sticking junior faculty on the most-time-consuming service roles. I am grateful to then-chair who prevented me from hopping on the most time-consuming committee when I was a newbie. We now seem to populate that committee with junior faculty, and it makes me sad and furious.

Maybe if junior people had a chance to work on other facets of their lives when they are young, if we didn’t burden them with stupid crap when just getting funding in this insane climate is a real challenge,  they wouldn’t avoid retirement for literal decades for fear of having nothing to do with themselves once they’re old.

Or maybe I’m just crochety. But I, too, was once, not that long ago, very single-minded in the pursuit of my career; I wanted to work all the time. But sooner or later, we all seem to wonder what else is out there. We ask if what we envision will suffice once the job is no more. I wish the answer were ‘yes’ for more people.

Janus Links

I have some deadlines, so for now here are some links, but back soon with proper posts.

Delurkpalooza 2022


The first week of January is traditionally International Blog Delurking Week.

Whether you’re an old reader or new, whether you’ve commented in the past or not, please stop by and tell us a little about yourself. Are you a student, faculty, staff, or someone in a line of work outside academia? How did you find the blog? What do you most like to read about here on xykademiqz?

How have you been these past two pandemic years? What has lifted your spirits? What are some things or experiences that you have been looking forward to? Any plans for 2022?

Come say ‘hi’ — we’d love to hear from you!