I have been trying to figure out what is going on with me for quite some time now – maybe a little over a year. I’ve had this malaise that just keeps hanging on. But, that isn’t quite it either.

I’ve questioned if I’m depressed. And it doesn’t feel quite like that either. Usually, when I’m in my own deep depression – usually in the weeks around July 4 – I am completely withdrawn. I don’t want to talk with people. I don’t want to get up off my couch. I don’t want to engage with life. This isn’t that.

After my contract was terminated due to the grant running out and I went to Ghana, I had big plans for a job search, living and working more intentionally, and building my business when I returned. However, when I returned, I decided to focus on building my business. I started redesigning and rethinking what I wanted to build. I focused on rest and healing from the almost 20-year marathon of being a single parent, battling a raging asshole of an ex, doing my graduate study, and building my career.

Then, life happened. As it does. I got busy. I traveled to conferences, I continued my work, I traveled to visit my daughter, my dog died, then I moved cross country and continued to travel – for conferences, to support family, to a concert I’d had tickets to for 2-years, and to support friends. I traveled so much in the first 7-9 months of moving, that I spent a total of 3+ months traveling, not at home.

I moved cross country with plans of my daughter and I buying a house in Maryland or the DMV. I did this because, adventure, why not? I was no longer taking care of a neurotic geriatric dog and thought about the freedom of finally no longer having dogs or children at home that relied on me for their survival. I wanted to move closer to my father, brother, and sister and hoped to meet more family. I also thought, because I was draining my retirement, that if I bought a house at least that was some retirement plan and houses in the Baltimore area are priced at a level that I could afford.

Then the presidential election happened. That sunk my hope for whatever future I had imagined for myself. Then I visited my father and a few months later, he came in hot accusing me of stealing something from his home – for a second time calling me a thief and a liar. Then I ran out of retirement money and the dreams of homeownership once again evaporated – I’m not even sure I want the responsibility of homeownership but thought it would be a good investment. Then I swore I’d beat the pavement to job search. Then I was diagnosed with possible glaucoma. Then I double swore to vigorously job search.

I searched for jobs and applied for several.

In this process, I’ve been negotiating my career. Do I need to break up with higher education? I haven’t been able to land the lauded tenure track position. Ever. I’ve realized I LOATHE administrative work with a burning seething passion and the salaries in higher education for admin roles are not nearly enough for the stress of the job and navigating the violently anti-Black white supremacist bullshit.

Possibly the biggest revelation I’ve had is that I’m deeply exhausted and wounded from over 15-years of searching for that higher ed role, serving in higher ed in various positions, and trying to stem the harm for myself and others. I am apoplectic. Yet, higher ed is the only place I desire to be. I need the knowledge of academe, the intellect of my colleagues, the energy of the students. I don’t know where else to get that. Even my workshops don’t meet the full range of these needs. And so, I’ve been mourning to some degree about the possibility of leaving academia fully. It’s like breaking up a marriage in some ways – a marriage that seldom served me, supported me, held me but provided space for me to do these things for myself – an island of my own.

Throughout this time, I’ve been battling a lot of negative self-talk. You know the sort: I’m not good enough for that higher ed job, I’m not worthy enough to own a home I desire, I’m never going to get ahead or flush or maintain a level of financial comfort that I deserve. And I’m sure there are other negative thoughts I’ve had but they seem to circle around these main ones. When I hear them in my head, I immediately work to interrogate and interrupt them. But the words are always lingering in the background. As soon as I swat one down, another emerges.

Now, I think I’ve finally figured some things out about my malaise.

Folx that know me know that I think of my base-level resources as time, energy, and money. I have given the better part of my life to building a higher education career. I’ve spent so much time, energy, and money in pursuit of that career. I could probably calculate the money I’ve spent in that pursuit. Between the cost of getting the education, the cost of traveling to conferences, books (tools of the trade), computer programs to do my work, and other incidentals, it is well over $250k – – probably closer to $500k+ if accounting for interest on student loans and credit cards, easily. Then there is the money spent in my professional organizations (which are mandatory for faculty work, MANDATORY). Money for professional memberships (at least $250/membership annually), conference registrations (also at least $150+/conference if one is a member, more if not a member), conference attendance (air travel usually, ground travel rarely, hotel, food, and any other incidentals).

I can probably calculate the time spent as well. Between hours spent in my coursework – about 35 3-credit classes equals 105 hours of in-class time (butts in seats) and approximately 315 hours of outside of graduate-level class work. Those are just the actual courses, not the seminars that supervise teaching assistants, reading groups, and dissertation credits, of which there are many more hours spent that are not as easy to calculate. Then there is time spent applying to jobs, which my calculations are at least 20-hours per application, sometimes as high as 40-hours, depending in what materials I may need to construct.

Academic jobs usually ask for a CV, a cover letter (which isn’t the standard cover letter, it is common for these cover letters to be 2-3 pages, maybe a bit more if necessary), a teaching philosophy statement (a one-page document that provides specific examples of what one does in the classroom), a research statement (a one-page document that provides an overview of one’s research agenda that draws a string through work that has been done and points to directions one wishes to go with their research in the future), a writing sample (usually something already published), and sometimes a diversity statement (another one-page document that may address specific questions the institution or unit wants the applicant to address or something one might prepare on their own). If one has to create these documents on their own, it leads to higher limit of time to create them; some may be prepared and not have to be tweaked for each job application. Each cover letter takes me about ~8-hours to prepare, if I want it to be a solid letter and these documents are new each time because these are specific to the job. Admin jobs ask for much of the same PLUS answering 1-5 essay questions related to the position. Those change from job to job, institution to institution. I’ve never seen the same questions asked on these applications, so there is no saving the materials and repurposing them. How many jobs have I applied to since my grad program? Countless, several hundred jobs, probably close to at least 1000.

Then there are the conferences, presentations, and workshops. For most of my professional conferences, one has to write a 4-5-page paper summarizing a larger project (going succinct is always harder than going broad and verbose – so it takes a little bit of time puzzling through. Then there is the travel to conferences and the time in presentation prep, conferencing, and networking. I could guess and estimate time spent and I would guess that I’ve spent another several hundred hours for this, probably thousands of hours doing this work.

It is impossible to calculate the energy that has gone into this work. Energy in applying, attending, presenting, networking, staying current in my field, etc. But there was also energy expended in tertiary things that challenged or made possible my way through grad school and my career – raising my kids and making space in my family life to do the work I needed to do to reach the next level, battling my raging asshole ex just so we could breathe and live our lives and do our work, finding care for the kids (and dogs) when I’d have to travel for work. Basically, juggling responsibilities, sacrificing time, worrying, stressing, and stretching myself in myriad ways.

I just lay this all out because unless one is in academe (and sometimes if they are), they don’t understand what all goes into faculty work. Most of this is also true for higher level administrators (deans and directors, provosts and vice presidents, etc).

Now, as I’ve written in many of my posts, my entire life has been a battle of some sort or another. Some of that is because of choices I’ve made. But I also think that so much of my battle has been systemic in ways. I had few opportunities – low income, first-generation college student, working-class background – military, trade school, college, or straight to work (or a life of crime, which at one point was a solid option, one I now wish I’d explored more intentionally given…well everything). I guess these are the same opportunities afforded most of us. I didn’t inherit property, money, a career, a family business, or anything else to lean on. My life has been like walking a tightrope without a net to catch me. When I hit a bump in the road, I had to figure it out. And I did. I’ve been figuring it out since I left home at 15 – robbing Peter to pay Paul, rubbing two pennies together and hoping for a buck, stretching meals, mending school clothes, fighting to pay for enrichment activities for the kids, using student loans to live and pay bills, making sure to pay rent and energy bills before anything else so we’d have a place to live no matter what. All of this and more has severely depleted my energy.

Additionally, I have given all I can to build my career. I’ve stayed up late and woken up early to work on and complete projects (program evaluations, application review (job and grad school), writing papers and conference presentations, applying for jobs, preparing accreditation stuff). I’ve bled my energy dry supporting students, staff, and faculty, puzzling through institutional problems that I had responsibility over, leading and participating in large-scale complex projects. I’m talking about emotional and psychological energy. I have literally burned myself out doing the work I do – burned out to the bone. And I’ve gladly done all of this because I love my career, I love the work I do, I’m excellent at the work I do, and it is beyond just a career – it is my purpose.

So, here I am. In the position literally hundreds of thousands of us find ourselves in since that rapist racist POS said his oath of office January 2025. I’m not unique. I’m not special. So many of us are having to retool, renegotiate another stage of or a whole new career, and having to expend so much energy into whatever comes next. I’m not the first, the only, or the last person to experience a shit job market and facing having to retool myself.

Since grad school, I’ve applied for so many jobs, gotten few interviews, zero tenure track offers. I’ve been slightly more successful with administrative positions. But I loathe that work with the burning fires of hell. So much of admin work violates my ethics, values, and morals. It is too much political posturing, too much speaking rather than taking any meaningful action, and too many people behaving badly with little concern for those whom they supervise or those they are charged with serving. So much of admin work is about power, acquiring more of it, and building one’s little fiefdom. These position are loosed from academic knowledge in pretty significant ways, people make up their roles and responsibilities to justify their positions rather than realizing they are stewards of their positions and the institutions. The rupture between those roles and my own ethos is too large a gap and frustrates me in ways that don’t work for me.

While I do not feel entitled to a tenure track faculty job, I so deserve one. In the 15 years since finishing my doctorate, I have continued to pursue these positions. I’ve always wanted to be at a teaching institution, that has been my goal but I also apply to doctoral granting institutions as the position allows. However, the older I get and the further out from my Ph.D., my focus is teaching institutions almost exclusively and clinical/teaching professor positions. My dreams and goals have shifted through time to fit the times and the circumstances. But, with fewer and fewer opportunities, the economy tanking again, the attacks on higher education, and my own aging, I think this dream is growing further and further out of reach and I’m considering whether I abandon this dream or not. How much more time do I have to dream? How much more energy to I have to continue pouring myself into this career I’ve spent 20+ years building? And, if I shift, what do I shift to and how do I do that? Do I have it in me to rebuild myself over again? Cuz, this career wasn’t the first time I’ve shifted course, abandoned my dreams, made my dreams smaller.

I’ve educated people who are now college vice-presidents and presidents, tenured faculty at doctoral granting institutions, and others who are at the top of their professions and here I am, just languishing in place, stuck and stymied, frustrated and dissatisfied, angry and sad. I’m happy for my former students and want for them whatever they want for themselves. I am not jealous of them and their achievements. And I’m wondering, why not me? Why am I out in the cold? Adjuncting? Barely making ends meet – never mind, I’m not making ends meet at the moment? Why am I struggling so hard when I know so many people who are wholly inadequate and fully incompetent that are tenured faculty or upper admin who should have no power over anyone. Those people fail up all the time and I can’t seem to just succeed up – or at least succeed lateral. I’m frustrated.

Part of me is angry at myself. Why did I think getting an education would provide me with some financial and professional stability? Because that is the lie I was told over and over before, during, and after each of my degrees. Why didn’t I just go into a life of crime when that was a potential option? Because, clearly crime actually pays well if I’m looking at the White House at the moment. Why did I get a degree in criminal justice/sociology and then higher education instead of law, nursing, or teaching and learning? Like degrees that lead to clear career paths that I could apply anywhere whenever?

I know life is unfair, isn’t easy, and all of that. But goddam am I tired of figuring it out on my own all the time and thugging it out to get scraps.

Is it my name? Does my name throw off hiring committees? When they see my name, do they make assumptions about my cognitive abilities based upon racist stereotypes? Is it my CV? Is it not in whatever new format that some non-academic employers use to screen apps – whatever that is? Are my cover letters not landing? I mean, faculty jobs are highly competitive and more so as higher education contracts.

If I chunk up my identity, first, I am Black. Second, I am female. Third, I am a mom. And fourth, I am an academic. I think I have always been an academic, from the time I was a little girl. Studying the etymology of words. Laying in bed pondering what I now understand as post- and de-colonial thoughts at 7-years old. Arguing the truths and facts underlying social and political issues. Voraciously reading everything I could get my hands on. Loving to learn. Intellectual curiosity. Learning to craft arguments that stay true to my ethos.

So, if I abandon the the academic route and finally figure out how I want to retool myself, it is like I’m cleaving off a huge and important part of who I am, who I’ve always been, who I’ve been building myself to be. This is an existential crisis for me, like little else I’ve experienced in my life. Most anything else, I’d have some idea of how to begin to address – addiction/alcoholism, I got that; divorce, got that too; toxic family, I’ve figured that out; being around dangerous people, I know how to navigate that; poverty, hate it but I know how to be poor. I’m at a complete loss about how to deal with this existential crisis I’m experiencing.

And there’s a grief there. In all of this. I can’t quite name it. A loss? Yeah, maybe. Confusion? Definitely. I’m at a loss as to what to do to pull me out of the death spiral I’m on.

The only thing I know in this moment is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Keep applying for jobs. Try to keep my own learning and staying current in my field going. Try to keep doing my academic writing. Try to keep nurturing the connections and network I’ve built these last 20+ years.

And even as I list all of this, I wonder to myself is there even a point to me doing all of that? Continuing to expend this energy and time? Because the fruit from that tree has been pretty sparse all these years – contract employment, grant funded employment, always trying to stay ready to make a shift when the contract runs out or the grant runs its course. So, is there a point to me doing these things, even as some feed my soul in ways that most doesn’t. I just think about the time, energy, and money I’ve poured into myself, my career, and these endeavors and wonder if it was worth it and if it remains worth it. I’ll never replace the time, energy, or money I’ve poured into all this – like a fixer upper house, what’s that movie? The Money Pit? That’s what this whole career feels like, a money pit, a time suck, an energy vampire. I’m so tired. So beaten down. So worn out. And so disappointed with the outcome of this trajectory, with myself, with the systems and the people. I’m worn out. So drained of everything I’ve had and built these years.

All of this makes me feel so stupid for believing fairy tales, hoping to build something better for myself and my kids.

In all of this, I am not unique. Actually, I’m pretty insignificant. I don’t say this to wallow in my shit or as a cry for help. I don’t need people building me up. I know I’m great. I know I’m smart. I know I’m capable. I know I’m competent. I know I am an exceptional educator. I know my cognitive abilities are above most in the ways I can break down complex things and teach them to others and the ways in which I can draw from various fields of scholarship into something coherent. I know I am exceptional in so many ways. I don’t need someone gassing me up and telling me how great I am at various things. That really doesn’t help me. They’re words and while always great to hear, I can’t turn them in for a paycheck or health insurance. They don’t lead to a job in my profession. They don’t even fill my soul. Sure, it makes me feel good knowing how I’ve touched someone’s life. We should all gain that perspective. And I’m super proud of the work I’ve done up to this point, the lives I’ve touched, the people I’ve helped along the way in big and small ways. That’s who I am and will continue to be.

But, none of it helps me figure out what to do, how to do it, where to turn to next. And frankly, I am not sure I have another rebuild my life into something new in me. I’ve done this so many times throughout my life, recreating myself. Because it dawns on me that whatever I’m going through now is due to choices made and not made 20 or 30 years ago. I’ve been building this for a long time. I have 12 more years of working life until I hit retirement age. I don’t know that I have it in me to build a different career even as I realize that there are so many skills I have that are transferrable to other professions. I just don’t think I have anymore energy to give to the possibility of things changing and going well. I fucking DID THAT WORK ALREADY!!!!! I fucking did it.

Anyways, I guess I’ve worked through it. I’m angry at myself, disappointed in myself, frustrated by the circumstances I currently find myself in. And ugh. I’m over it.