The Job Market

Today, a mutual follow and fellow PhD student on Twitter let the world know about her post-PhD plans. A A post-doc at Oxford followed by an assistant professorship. She also overdid the platitudes about how lucky she is to get a post-doc and job in a brutal job market. Of course, luck plays a huge part, but so do academic networks. I felt a stab of jealousy and irritation, but it soon passed. I am gong to try to stay in academia, but the longer I spend on the job market, the more I feel I am not cut out for academia. I don't mean that I am not smart or hardworking enough. I mean there seems to be little space to do the kind of interdisciplinary work I am interested in. Academia feels like a machine whose primary function is to reproduce existing knowledge and ways of thinking rather than creation of new knowledge. Is there any other profession that is as self-referential and insular as academia? I am not interested in research questions that academia is asking, and academia is not interested in the research questions that I am asking. Neither am a member of any of the cliques that heterodox economics is rife with.I came across a post by a fellow grad student who has quite the academic job market, which echoed with me. The writer had found precisely one job which was a reasonable fit with his research area. A quote from his post. 'First, I think its an intimate illustration of the market forces under which our generation operates. Some of us are lucky and can benefit from old structures. but, the vast majority of us will have to build new structures for ourselves.'

F&P (Fortitude and Patience)

 I wonder which is a better training in patience and fortitude--doing a PhD or suffering from a chronic injury? I am in the home stretch of my thesis, so my PhD is not drawing on my F&P reserves as much as it was a few months ago. I am also enjoying it as ideas brewed over months and years are coming together to form a coherent whole. I wish I could say the same about my elbow and shoulder. With every new exercise or stretch my physiotherapist teaches me, my shoulder feels better after a few days, but then the improvement seems to peter away. I am often consumed by the urge to change physiotherapists. ONe part of the reason is that it has become difficult to believe that my shoulder will ever get better. Is that common with conditions and injuries that have lasted a long time/ That have changed how I move my body, the exercises I attempt, the postures that once seemed like second nature to assume but which I religiously avoid now? So, basically, am I going to physiotherapy just to do something, do anything about it? To stave of the guilt of not doing anything? Maybe. but, I am scrupulously doing all the exercises she has asked me to, and following her instructions to the T? What else can I do? Nothing else, and I shouldn't try to do anything more. I am paying her to worry about fixing my shoulder. yes, it is expensive and there is a chance I will spend a good amount of money with nothing to show for it. So what/ This is not the first time I have spent money on a futile project and it won't be the last. When I know its time to look elsewhere for treatment, I will know. Or, maybe she will tell me. Until such time, I must try not to think about it. F&P.

British Summer Time Begins

 When the clocks went back last autumn, we were on the cusp of another lockdown. I always knew this winter would be difficult but anticipation is not the same as preparation, if anything could have prepared me for it. January was the most difficult time for me since Covid struck. It was the worst I have felt since the my tryst with depression. But, things started to looking up in February and life has been on the upswing. I had two weeks of teaching 10 hours, and not only did I manage to get through them without burning out, the students loved me. I have realised that I have gift for teaching and I hope I will be able to continue in academia. As the clocks go forward, I am feeling optimistic about life. I still have to finish my PhD, and the job hunt could take weeks, months or years, but I am not losing sleep over it. As always, I did the special winter yoga session to mark the change of season. It is a wonderful session but the next time I do it will be when the clocks go back next autumn. As an atheist, one has to come up with one's own rituals. The weather hasn't been very spring-like but its just a matter of time. There is a spring in my step already. 

Not to Blog For The Sake of It

As a creature of habit and self-discipline, it is difficult for me to skip some aspects of my daily routine such as yoga and blogging, Often, I spend ages in front of the screen in the evening figuring out what I should blog about. Not ideal, because I am trying to reduce my screen time in the evenings. Often, I end up writing some faff just so that I can tell myself that I blogged that day. I am trying to get out of the habit of blogging for the sake of it. To save blogging for the days I actually have some food for thought. There is such a thing as ovver-reflection (which is a post for noather day). 

Clicking Sounds

 I have noticed over the past few weeks that what bothers me most about my shoulder injury is not the pain but the clicking sounds my shoulders and chest make. The pain is mild, but every time I hear the clicking sounds, my heart sinks. I feel like I have become a bit obsessed with not letting my chest click, so every click feels like a sign of failure. It has occurred to me that the reason my shoulder is taking so long to heal is that I am trying too hard. Sometimes, I do my shoulder exercises with an air of desperation. I really need to back off and stop myself from thinking about my shoulder unless I am doing my stretches or exercises. Just like a watched kettle never boils, maybe a watched shoulder never. I need to trust my body and my physio more and stop thinking about my shoulder so much. 

One-year Anniversary of Lockdown

 The actual anniversary was yesterday, but I was already in bed by the time I remembered. Where does one even start writing about one-year of Covid lockdowns? The one lesson I hope I take away from this experience that firstly there is no "the" normal state of affairs, there is only "a" normal state of affairs. The definition of normal is "conforming to a standard or a norm". We often take normal as being synonymous with natural, so an abnormal life is often seen as an unnatural way of life. But, Covid and the lockdown has taught me that "a normal state of affairs" is conditional and precarious. The fact that norms don't change often doesn't mean they cannot change quickly. So, leading an abnormal life in terms of not having an active social or sex life, or not having a romantic partner, or finding most people boring is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Abnormal doesn't equal unnatural and there are many ways to live a full and satisfying life. And, I have long maintained that social norms will need to change, what it means to have a settled life will have to change if we are to have even an outside chance of confronting climate change. 

On A Bender

This week, I came close to burnout for the first time in months. Every evening for the past few days, a wave of fatigue would come over me. And, on Thursday evening, I felt like I was on the verge of falling ill. I had overestimated my capacity for work and I knew I had to cut myself some slack. In hindsight, it seems silly that I could teach for 10 hours a week and continue to work on my PhD at full tilt. I just couldn't bring myself to focus on my PhD. Since I had two classes to teach on Friday, I decided to drop everything else and chill as best as I could. I felt like I sometimes put off taking time off because I don't have too many friends or hobbies. But, I have realised one needs breaks nevertheless. One needs to do something else, anything else but work from time to time. So, I went on a but of a bender yesterday--beer pizza, a lot of chocolate and binge-watching were involved. This morning, I even felt inspired myself to work, but the motivation wore off midday, so I didn't push myself.

Discombobulation

 It takes me time to adjust to a new person's presence, whether it is at home or at work. Unless its a friend or loved one, I always resent their presence. I just get better at tolerating it. Not an ideal situation for someone who lives in a shared house and works from a shared office. The pandemic has also spoiled me. Through most of the pandemic, it has just been me and one other person working from the shared office, and the other person is here in the mornings only. We are cordial terms but the extent of our conversation is " Good Morning" and " see you". I suppose she is indifferent to my presence, but I resent her presence. However, I have reconciled to the state of affairs. As the Covid situation improves, the state of affairs is likely to change. Today, another office mate who hadn't been in in months, turned up. He is no bother at all, and I have barely ever spoken to him. And he doesn't even occupy the same space as me--he sits in the adjoining office. However, I had begun to consider the adjoining empty office as part of my fiefdom, and am resenting his intrusion. What I would give for an office to myself in the final months of my PhD? I wish I was one of those laser-focussed who are completely indifferent to their surroundings and would carry on working through an earthquake. I can rant and rave as much as I like but at the end of the day they have as much right to be here as me, and I have a PhD to complete. So, unless they are banging on my table with a hammer, I really shouldn't be paying much mind to them and get on with writing. 

Teaching "Kids"

 The other day, I was talking to a friend when she remarked that it was interesting I referred to my students as kids. I was surprised because I thought all people my age and older do that. But, turns out its not the case. I suppose a part of it is the contrast between me and them. I am of large stature and sober personality, and most 18-year-olds are not. Some of them look they have sneaked out of school. And, evvery year, they look younger and younger. (I sound like a grizzled veteran teacher but even though I am teaching after two years, I still saw plenty of kids across campus even when I wasn't teaching) And, then today, while watching a video of my elder nephew dancing with classmates, it struck me. The students I teach are just a few years older than my elder nephew. If I continue in academia, in a few years I will be teaching students younger than my nephews. I won't be able to see my students as anything but kids. 

The Camera Doesn't Lie

Like a moth drawn to a flame, I can't stop myself from watching video recordings of my lecture. This week, I had made a conscious effort to sound more perky. But, the recorder keeps a few kilowatts of energy for itself, and to my ears at least, I barely sounded any more energetic than last week. If that was not discouraging enough, I noticed how tired I looked in the few seconds of video at the start of the lecture before I switched to sharing my screen. This has been a busy few weeks, and I suppose the pandemic is taking a toll on my energy. But, when I look in the mirror everyday I don't look tired. But, mirrors can lie, I suppose, but the camera doesn't. I know I have been pushing myself hard, but I don't feel like I am close to a crash. Maybe I need to be more watchful for warning signs of burnout. 

Wrong Assumption

 Lecturing today went well, but it was blighted by a completely avoidable incident. An enthusiastic kid asked me my opinion on something before class, and the suspicious Indian in me, always on the look out for an ulterior motive, thought he was trying to pick my brain because he had to write an essay on the topic for another class. Turns out he was just curious, and I felt like a conceited ass. As though my opinion on the topic would have burnished his essay! I apologized of course, and ventured my opinion on the topic, but felt like an ass afterwards. Its amazing how many different ways one can make an ass of themselves in life. Well, you life and learn. Some people have to learn more than others, but that is life. 

Chivalrous Masculinity

 Today, I came across a post on chivalrous masculinity and my first instinct was to scoff. It said something along the lines of we shouldn't emasculate men by telling them all expression of masculinity is bad, we should promote chivalrous masculinity. Men are stronger than women and should use their strength to protect women. Protect women from whom exactly? Bad men. And why are there so many bad men who harass and assault women? My main problem is this idea fails to problematize misogyny and the fact that society conditions men to be aggressive towards women. The size issue is a non-sequitur. Not all men are the same size, but small men don't walk around with the fear that larger men will grab them by the balls. Why does the strength differential become a factor only in male-female interactions. In a modern society, is it too unreasonable to expect to be able to walk around without fear of being harassed or assaulted by someone stronger than you? And I am not a fan of the word "protect" word here. It is a thin line between protecting someone and policing them, especially someone you don't have a duty of care for.

Another problem with "chivalrous masculinity" is it veers too close to "Nice Guy Syndrome"--men with underwhelming looks/personalities performing kindness to get with women. Just like with the assholes, there is a sense of entitlement. 

Male Violence Against Women

Everyone is talking about male violence against women in the UK after a girl was kidnapped and murdered by an off-duty cop while she was on her way home. The victim and assailant did not know each other. There have been calls to reframe the question as being of male violence instead of women's safety because an overwhelming proportion of violence against women is committed by men, ranging from sexual harassment and cat-calling to rape and murder. As a man, it is difficult to understand how unsafe women are made to feel. A couple of months ago, my mother described a situation that someone whom we both know found herself in. I didn't feel that the situation was unsafe, but thankfully, I kept my opinion to myself. As a man I will never understand what it is like to fear for your safety as women do. And, we men don't need to understand, we need to listen to and believe women. What steps can we take, apart from checking up on female friends and family? Evaluate our won behaviour around women and the possibility that we may be making women feel uncomfortable without realising. Thinking about how we would intervene if we are in a situation where a woman is under threat. 

Listening to Myself

 I finally bit the bullet and listened to the video recording of my lecture. It turns out I don't sound half as articulate as I thought I did. Other things I picked up is I speak very slowly, I say "right?" a lot, taking after my Dad. But, the most surprising thing was that I sound half as energetic as I thought I did. My grandmother says I am a bumbler, and I have never believed her until yesterday, which was possibly the first time I listened to myself speak at length. Now, I know what Adrienne meant when she says she works a lot on her voice. Her voice is the perfect blend of calmness, enthusiasm, and energy and I try to channel my inner Adrienne while teaching, but I sound nothing like her. I suddenly have a newfound appreciation for voice training and voice-coaching. One thing that I am gong to try to do is consciously put more effort in talking. On the other hand, I don't want to obsess about it to the point that I am distracted from the content of my speech. 

Teaching Goes Smoothly

My first day of lecturing went off quite smoothly, although towards the end of my third hour of lecturing, I was croaking because I was so hoarse. I wonder how Fidel Castro gave speeches that lasted hours. Vocal cords are not muscles that you can keep strengthening, right? Or, are  they? My throat was a little soar the next day too, and at time like these, a sore throat is a bigger bother than usual. But, at least I am done with lecturing for the week, and it all went smoothly. My non-lecturing hours were occupied by watching coverage of the fallout of Harry and Meghan's interview with Oprah Winfrey, in which they claimed the palace refused to help Meghan when she was suicidal. Why was I so interested? It is not like I am enamoured with the British monarchy. Some leftists have criticised Meghan for marrying into an institution that is racist to the core and that she would be okay with it if they had treated her well. Other leftists said that how the tabloids cover Meghan is representative of how minorities, and minority women in particular, are viewed in British society. Which is why the media coverage of this issue is so triggering even for staunch non-monarchists. I suppose you have to live in Britain for a while to understand the role of the Royal Family and of the press in perpetuating racism  and the legacy of empire in British society. Both institutions feed of each other in vicious ways.

First Time Lecturing

 Tomorrow, will be first time lecturing, the first of many if I manage to stay in academia. I spent most of yesterday and a bit of today preparing. I also spent a few hours in panic that I just didn't have enough stuff to occupy the time. That has always been my biggest fear about lecturing--that I will run out of material within 20-25 minutes and wouldn't know what to do for the rest of the hour. I am supposed to give two lectures tomorrow, with the second repeated for a new batch of students. I practiced the first lecture to time and am confident that I won't finish in less than half an hour. But, I didn't practice the second one to time. It started to feel like I was rehearsing for a play. A lecture is supposed to be an active intellectual activity and I may find something new to say at the spur of the moment. If I am too preoccupied with remembering my lines during the lecture. I will not be fully present. A lecture is a conversation after all, even if it will mostly be me talking. Of course, one should prepare well so that students are able to follow the train of thought. I don't think I will ever rock up to a class and give an extempore lecture, and definitely not for my first time lecturing. But, over-preparation can also kill your enthusiasm for the topic. 

Working In Tense Environments

Since being added to the department mailing list, I have realised that faculty is perpetually at war with management. Some of the emails flying around have been very prickly, and going by their content, it seems like this is not a new state of affairs. Does this make the department a less attractive place to work in if the opportunity arises? Not in the least. I know enough about UK higher education to know that it is rife with managerialism, so any other uni would possibly be as bad, if not worse. I have also worked in difficult environments such as a news bureau which saw its strength half in less than a year, and which was, during that time, led by petty and incompetent bosses. A job is a job, and if you are an employee it is advisable to ration the headspace to provide it. And after going through the pandemic tense work environments don't seem like a big deal. 

Complicated

 Today, while slogging over my thesis in the evening, I was struck by the thought that its just too complicated. For one, it is a sea of neologisms. Academics love to put old wine in new bottles. They come up with concepts that are too vaguely defined so they could apply to literally any phenomena. Or they are annoyingly close to well-recognized concepts. Am i guilty of the same/ Apoart from the neologisms, I just feel like I am engaging superficially with too many heavy concepts. Anyone well-versed in one of these concepts would find a lot of problems with my perfunctory treatment of them. The bottomline is I feel like the story I am telling is too complicated. And, that it has too many dense strands that I haven't been able to weave together in a coherent whole. I can't possibly imagine anyone apart from my supervisor and examiners (hopefully) taking the time and effort to understand what positon-making is and why it matters. Ah well, I guess a lot of people write PhDs containing concepts and ideas that remained sealed in the bowels of academia forever. 

Twitter Beefs

 Can an INFJ ever be an active Twitter user? Twitter is not for the think-skinned, and us INFJs are notoriously sensitive. In the past few days, I have seen a couple of takedowns on Twitter that left me smarting on behalf of the targets. And, the targets were not even acquaintances, just people whom I follow and who follow me. Even publicizing your work on Twitter exposes you to the risk of barbs thrown from people who have zero incentive to be collegiate or civil to you. And, people can got to great lengths to come across as witty. For now, I am very much a lurker on Twitter, who barely even retweets stuff, forget tweeting. Twitter is a great knowledge and meta-knowledge/trivia resource. But, I don't know how long I can be a lurker. After I receive my PhD, and can share my opinions with some confidence won't I ahve to wade into the swamp? But, I will cross that bridge (or not) when I come to it. 

Shiny New Gadgets

 Its ages since I got a shiny new gadget. It has been even longer since I got a shiny new gadget that I didn't pay for. The last such thing I can remember was the company-issued Blackberry, which at the time seemed really cool. I am quite used to touchscreen phones now, but  Blackberry had a charm of its own. And, I remember that the company rule was if your phone was lost or stolen, you couldn't pay for a replacement from your own pocket. For IT security reasons the company would replace it for you. Fine by me, but I found out the hard by buying a phone I didn't need and then struggling to resell it. But, the gadgets I got today were not as fancy--a headset and a webcam. But, it is not simply what you get that matters for satisfaction, but what you get compared to your expectations. And, my expectations from the IT department at uni were pretty low. I had requested these products more than two weeks ago, and till this morning, I had no indication that their arrival was imminent. And, then, in a matter of a few hours I was holding them in my hand. I had expected something crummy, but they seemed almost brand-new. I looked up their prices on amazon and they are together worth almost 175 pounds. When I tried them, they worked smoothly.