Leaving Grinnell was hard. July 1 is the date I physically left Grinnell, and July 31 was my official resignation date, but the truth is it was a process of many months.
The first step was realizing I could leave.
I had just started some exciting new projects that would have taken several years to see through. Grinnell’s CS enrollments are booming, like everywhere else, and my contributions were needed. Moreover, with my colleague Henry Walker’s retirement, we were losing our department founder, who could and would do just about anything the department needed, and gaining a young, inexperienced colleague who would need protection and mentoring. Outside of work, my husband, Brooks, and I had finally made some close friends and felt a part of the community. After I was awarded tenure, we had sunk tens of thousands of dollars into major renovations on our house.
In short, I had a lot invested in Grinnell. More than that, I loved Grinnell. I wrote in my cover letter for the application at Whitman:
I’m not looking for a new job. Indeed, I’m very happy at Grinnell. I am deeply committed to Grinnell’s mission of liberal education and social justice. I have thoughtful, supportive colleagues and students who are amazing in so many ways. I’ve taught a broad range of courses for majors and non-majors, and developed opportunities to engage students in my research. Over the last few years, I’ve seen Grinnell’s CS major grow to more than double in size and include over 30% women. Beyond computer science, I’ve served for five years as chair of the interdisciplinary technology studies concentration and developed a discussion- and writing-intensive format for the introductory course. I’ve contributed to Grinnell’s most recent strategic plan and continued to act as one of its stewards. I’ve even come to love Iowa. My husband and I have put down roots in Grinnell, both literally as gardeners and metaphorically as members of our community.
But beyond even all of these commitments to a town and an institution, I was committed to a life narrative. Everyone in academia knows the story: Get a Ph.D., land a tenure track job, get tenure, get promoted to full professor, have a long productive career, and eventually retire to Professor Emeritus, remaining in this community of which you have become a venerated member. I once compared joining a faculty to a getting married: a lifelong commitment to an institution. If a faculty appointment is like a marriage, then resignation is divorce.
Of course, this story isn’t true for everyone. Most of my UW Ph.D. classmates went to industry, not academia. There is increasing conversation about leaving academia. Though I was fortunate enough to land the tenure-track position I wanted, many institutions are relying increasingly on adjunct faculty, who lack security of employment. I have friends who did not get tenure on their first try. And even among those who achieved tenure, I knew faculty who accepted administrative appointments and eventually left Grinnell to advance their careers. I knew faculty in computer science who had left to be closer to family or to start new ventures, academic or otherwise. But I didn’t see myself as one of them.
What made me see this was only a story? As I became interested in the position, I sought advice. I found on my bookshelf The Art and Politics of College Teaching by Karl Hosteler, Keith Prichard, and R. McLaran Sawyer (2nd edition, 2004). It’s intended for new and aspiring faculty, and I hadn’t looked at it in years. But something made me pick it up and look at the table of contents. I saw a chapter titled, “Leaving Gracefully or Not So Gracefully.” How remarkable, that leaving is common enough to merit a chapter in “A Practical Guide for the Beginning Professor.”
The first paragraph of this chapter reads:
You might leave your position for any number of reasons. In some periods, there’s enormous wanderlust in the profession, and in others there’s relatively little migration. Obviously, you’ll leave when you retire [although some still don’t]. You might simply resign and leave the profession to start your own business or be a bohemian. But the most likely reason you’ll leave is to find another academic position—for health reasons; lack of opportunity, advancement, or adventure; or difficulties at your present institution. (p. 261)
I didn’t see myself represented in those reasons: I was perfectly happy at Grinnell and not actively looking for another position. But the section that addresses voluntary moves does much to normalize leaving: “In an early period, it was usually considered to be sage wisdom that a faculty member should have three career moves after receiving the doctorate” (p. 266). The first, of course, is leaving one’s Ph.D.-granting institution for a faculty position elsewhere. The second comes around the promotion to associate professor: “Coming to an institution at this rank means that faculty can overcome and put behind them the follies of their early career” (p. 267). The third move should come with full professorship: “This means that the faculty member arrives at that institution with a national reputation, clout, and prestige” (p. 267). While those were not my reasons for moving, just the idea that one should move was eye-opening. It gave me another story.
Grinnell doesn’t lack opportunities, but it lacked this particular opportunity.
I thought about this for days. I talked with Brooks. I sought out advice from several colleagues at other institutions: Ed Lazowska, who got me into this whole situation; Mike Erlinger, one of my undergrad profs and a long-time mentor; Valerie Barr, who I had met at the Whitman CS Symposium that summer; Kathleen Skerrett, who had left Grinnell to serve as Dean at University of Richmond. I realized that life would go on at Grinnell if I left, too.
When the headhunter called, I told him I was already planning to apply.
After I submitted my application, I told a few, very close friends. I looked for opportunities for a semi-spontaneous, confidential conversation—not always easy in a small town. I told my departmental colleagues gradually: Sam and Henry when I asked for recommendation letters, John and Jerod when it became clear I would be interviewing for the position at Whitman while interviewing candidates at Grinnell. John made the most concerted plea for me to stay, arguing that I would find many opportunities at Grinnell if I remained.
In his role as department chair, Sam asked me to speak with the Dean regarding my interview, and so I made an appointment for Friday, November 14. I came prepared with an index card listing some conditions at Grinnell I wanted to discuss, things that I thought might persuade me to stay. Although Dean Latham was perfectly reasonable, I was so shell-shocked I barely remember our conversation, only the feeling of adrenaline: my ears burning, my stomach full of rocks, my brain like molasses. A week later, I met with Mike again, to discuss in greater depth his suggestion that I might apply for an Associate Dean position at Grinnell. This time I brought a notebook.
By the time I spoke with Dean Latham again, it was January 5, and I had decided to accept the position at Whitman. He was fully prepared to negotiate, but I had already made up my mind.
I told my department right away, before I had even signed a contract. Sam began discussions with the Dean about plans to hire my replacement.
I submitted my formal resignation at 8:03 a.m. on January 14:
January 13, 2015
Dear Dean Latham:It is with sadness that I resign my tenure at Grinnell College, effective July 31, 2015. As you know, I have accepted Whitman College’s offer of employment as founder of a new computer science program.
I have specified July 31 as my resignation date to allow time this summer to share expertise with colleagues via faculty-faculty tutorials and workshops for the Wilson Program and the Technology Studies concentration. I understand you will work with me on compensation for my accumulated MAP credits (15 by my accounting).
My time at Grinnell has been extremely rewarding. I have learned so much, not only from my closest colleagues in the Department of Computer Science, but from colleagues and students across the College. In our interactions since your arrival at Grinnell this summer, I have developed a deep respect for you, and I regret that we will not have longer to work together. I look forward to maintaining congenial ties with my many friends and colleagues at Grinnell as I carry the seeds of what I have learned here to my new institution.
Sincerely,
Janet Davis
Associate Professor of Computer Science
Donald L. Wilson Professor of Enterprise and Leadershipcc: Sam Rebelsky, Chair of Computer Science
I don’t remember how long it took me to write this letter, and my computer won’t tell me. I do remember it wasn’t easy. I searched the Web for advice on writing an resignation letter, and got some helpful ideas, but I didn’t find much regarding academic positions. Perhaps my letter will help someone else figure out what they need to say.
Once I had formally resigned, I wanted to share the news right away. I was tired of secrets. But I wanted to do it right. As I started to think more seriously about accepting the position, I had made a list of “Who to tell if I don’t take the job” (those who I had already told about my application) and a much longer list of “Who to tell if I do take the job.” I spent a few days working through both lists, with a few conversations and a lot of emails.
I also wrote individual emails to each of my advisees, and a few other students with whom I had a close relationship. I had different templates for seniors, juniors, and second-years. I explained why I was leaving. I explained the timeline for finding a new advisor. I had more to say for the students I knew particularly well. I did not apologize, but I did express my mingled excitement and sadness. Some replied, especially the seniors who were having similar feelings. Some didn’t. It was fine.
On Saturday, January 17, I posted on Facebook:
Dear friends, I have sad/exciting news. I am leaving Grinnell College this summer, to join the faculty of Whitman College and build a new computer science program there. I am sad to leave my wonderful friends, colleagues, and students, as well as the home Brooks and I have made here in Grinnell. I am excited for new challenges and new horizons (both figurative and literal: Washington State has mountains!).
I’ve shared this news with many people before making this Facebook post. If you’re not one of them and you wish you had been, I’m sorry for my oversight.
Brooks and I had intended to host a housewarming for after our last round of renovations, which by now was much belated. We planned an open house for Saturday, January 18, which became an opportunity to tell those not on Facebook and receive the congratulations and good wishes of those who already knew.
Sam and I agreed that he would announce my resignation to all the students. He explained my new position, my reasons for leaving, and the search for my replacement. I followed up with a personal note:
Dear CS students,
I am very sad to be leaving Grinnell. It took some time and effort for Whitman to persuade me to even consider it. I cannot imagine a better place than Grinnell to have spent the last nine years; I have learned so much not just from my colleagues, but from all of you as well. It’s been a privilege to teach you.
I echo Sam’s encouragement to sign up for CSC 321/2. As of now, there is plenty of room.
I hope those of you who feel a connection to me will keep in touch. I would love to hear about your further adventures, at Grinnell and beyond! I have a policy that I don’t friend current students on Facebook, but under the circumstances, I will accept friend requests if you are so inclined. I accept all LinkedIn connection requests from students I know, and I will certainly continue to provide references and write letters of recommendation to students who ask. I will provide my new contact information as soon as possible.
Though I am sad to be leaving, I am very hopeful for Grinnell’s new hires in computer science. Great new things are still to come!
With much love,
Janet Davis
I took a few moments on the first day of each of my classes to make a similar announcement. It was bittersweet. More students than I expected have friended me on Facebook, and still more have connected with me on LinkedIn.
Telling people I was leaving was the essential act of leaving, the tipping point beyond which the process only gained momentum.
We put our house on the market right away. Everybody asked about it. Hardly anybody looked until April, when we received an offer from a new faculty member. That, too, was bittersweet. One of my biggest fears about moving to Whitman was that our house would stand empty after we left; houses in Grinnell can remain on the market for months or years. It was a relief not to have that fear alleviated. But it still hurt, a little bit, to sign first the contract to list and then the contract to sell the house we had poured so much of ourselves into.
The spring semester was incredibly busy. I aimed to fulfill my duties at Grinnell to the utmost, while at the same time contributing to the decisions at Whitman that would shape my first year here.
Those duties weren’t always clear. I felt divided, like I had my feet on two different shores. I was tempted more than once to cancel classes at Grinnell so I could be at Whitman. I was able to justify it just once, and that only after consulting with colleagues at Grinnell to make sure I wasn’t rationalizing my wants. For the most part, I think I deported myself honorably. My only regret is that I should have recused myself from Grinnell’s search, not because I had resigned, but because I was also involved in recruiting candidates for Whitman’s search for a visiting instructor, a definite conflict of interest.
The last day of class is always a moment of mingled sadness, relief, and triumph, but these were my LAST last days of class at Grinnell. I found myself in John’s office, staving off tears, while students wrote their end-of-course evaluations.
But then the moment passed. I gave a final exam and received student portfolios. I graded (oh, how I graded). I processed with the faculty during Commencement one last time. It was an unusual commencement, which took the edge off a bit: I got to walk across the stage on behalf of one of my advisees. The weather was abnormally cool, so many did not linger for the celebratory picnic.
When grading was done, I found myself with three big professional goals for June: Write the Wilson Program annual report, facilitate the Wilson-sponsored workshop on “Concepts of Leadership”, and do what I could to facilitate a smooth transition for my courses at Grinnell.
I am grateful that we started getting rid of things as soon as we knew we were moving. Even after cleaning out our basement after the floods of 2012, we had accumulated a lot of things that we didn’t really need to keep. I am grateful we hired professionals to pack up the contents of our house; I would not have had time to leave my work at Grinnell with a clean slate otherwise. And most of all I’m grateful to Brooks for making most of our moving arrangements and doing so many last minute tasks.
As I checked off my professional goals, and the house was handed over to the movers, my attention turned towards packing my office—one or two boxes at a time, starting with the books and ending with the contents of my desk. It came right down to the wire. I packed the last several boxes as Brooks hauled boxes home in the trunk of the car, the day before the moving truck arrived. It was strange to see my bookshelves empty, my tack boards empty, my whiteboard clean, my desk clean. But the shadows of my belongings remained.
There were a lot of people I wanted to see before I left, or who wanted to see me. There was a week of dinners, there was a week of lunches. We threw a potlatch, both to give away the things we couldn’t bear to throw away and to see our friends one last time.
The day the movers came seemed endless. The truck didn’t leave until 8 pm, and we were late to the dinner that our friends had kindly invited us to. The next day we cleaned. We ate dinner one last time at Relish, the restaurant where we had become almost one of the family. We locked the cats inside and slept on an air mattress on the floor. And on July 1, we flew to Washington.
That’s the last long story to catch up on, I think. My next post will discuss the cast of characters. There are many roles at a liberal arts college that I only gradually became aware of as an assistant professor at Grinnell. At Whitman I need to get to know them, fast.
Thanks for sharing this! Though you didn’t mention this post in the SIGCSE list, it is also a very valuable experience to share. It sounds like your new role is an exciting one with a lot of opportunities… I wish you the best of luck and hope you have a lot of fun and fulfillment!
Janet —
I’m just catching up. I’m sad that you have left Grinnell, but happy for you and for Whitman. This new beginning will create new opportunities for so many. Congratulations on your new beginning! I’m sure this will be the beginning a great new adventure.