Call me crazy but I'm the type of girl who shaves her legs everyday, or just about. I shave my legs because it makes me just feel completely ready for whatever the day may bring. Showered, shaved, dressed, and ready for anything. It makes me feel thinner, cleaner, more together than not shaving. So, I shave. But there are some days when I just don't have a full fifteen minutes to shower or when I don't mind not feeling so put together. The kids and I might have errands to run, be in a hurry to get somewhere, or if I know I'm exercising later in the day, I put off my shaving ritual and I run with it.So, last Friday, the day of Taggart's ninth birthday party, two days prior to our departure to Michigan for our three week long summer vacation, we had a long list of to-dos. Shaving came off my list real fast. I told the kids, "A quick shower . . . I'm not even going to shave my legs." And when I got out of the shower and quickly got dressed, they both said, "Wow, that was fast!" And off we ran to get my car checked, return books to the library and get new books for the road trip, and eventually, get snacks and party favors for Taggart's sleepover; maybe even pack.
However, on the way to Target, after having the car checked out by our neighborhood mechanic, I got a call from one of the Deans at Vanderbilt asking if it was a good time to talk about a position I had applied for earlier in the week. With a laugh, I shared that I had both kids in the car but they had promised to be good and yes, we could talk. So we did. Dean Hogge described the position in more detail and I shared that it sounded like an amazing position, one which I would have a lot to share and from which I could learn a great deal too. "Great," he says. "Can you come in at two for an interview?" "Two," I'm thinking, "is in less than three hours . . . and I have SO much to do . . ." But I tell him, "Of course, I need to check into childcare but I think I can do two." And I'm off again. In a totally different direction with my day, but running running, running. And trying to get my head around the interview!
I call a girlfriend to see if Taggart and Sage can come over while I head to campus for the interview and then I race home. I need a good outfit. I need to put some make-up on. And man, I wish I'd shaved my legs today!!! On this day, when I am interviewing for a position that could really shape my professional career in academia, a position that seems perfect for me, shaving my legs just might have given me that spurt of togetherness I needed. But no time for that. Time only to print out my curriculum vita, my cover letter, my notes to myself about the position. And I'm off again. Kids to my friend's, me to campus. Repeating affirmations as I go: I am deserving; I am talented; I am confident; I am well-spoken. The pep talk helps me rally. I feel as ready as I'll ever be given the short notice (not to mention the ho-hum outfit and stubbly legs . . .).
I walk into the Peabody Administration Building and am set to meet with the individual who currently holds the Assistant Dean for Student Affairs position. She walks in and we immediately begin to chat. We have many colleagues in common and she is easy to talk to. In learning about more of the specifics of the job and her responsibilities, my excitement and enthusiasm build. We talk for more than forty-five minutes and I really like her and feel good about our conversation. If it was an "interview" it didn't feel like it. And I was happy about that. As I gather my things, I comment that I am off to my nine-year-old son's birthday party. To which she responds, "Oh, well I better get you to your next interview quickly so you can get to the party on time." "What next interview?" I'm thinking. But of course, I nod and follow right along, hoping if I'm late for Taggart's birthday party, his dad is there to greet his friends. I decide as I enter the office of the next interviewer that I will send my girlfriend a text to let her know I am going to be a bit longer than I had anticipated. And of course, as I send the text, the interviewer walks in. I feel totally unprofessional as I plink my text out and apologize to her. I explain that it is my son's birthday, his party is starting soon, and I just need to let me friend know I will be along shortly. I try to joke that I never let my students text in class but I don't get even a chuckle. So much for first impressions!
The second interview starts and after I share why I am interested in the position, I am asked how I prioritize my time in a given day. And I am thinking, "Are you kidding me???" And I begin, "Well as both a parent and an educator, I simply do what needs to get done. There is always more to do in a given day than I have time for but I make a list and decide what is most critical and I go from there." I also add that I know my energy for certain tasks is better at various times of day, so for example, I typically do more important intellectual tasks in the morning and when my brain is running a little slower in the afternoon, I work with people then to help energize me . . . and so the interview begins. And the next question, "Tell me about a time when you had a student in crisis and how that situation got resolved." My reply is, "Wow, this is a REAL interview!" Again, trying to get a laugh, a smile, an acknowledgement that we are connecting at some level. Uh-uh. That would be a negative. No connection. "Yes," she answers. O.K., let's press on. More inane questions: "Tell me how someone knows they are being listened to when you communicate with them." I give her some Counseling 101 answer and we move on. "Tell me about a time you had a conflict with someone and how it was resolved." "Really?" I'm thinking. "This is how we are going to do this? Ugh…" At one point, I try for humor yet again and say something like, "So this is what I get when I have less than three hours to prepare!" And still, we're not together on the craziness of this interview.
It ends after about twenty-five painful minutes. I've never been so glad to not have to talk to someone anymore. Not that she was a bad person, but I couldn't get her to loosen up which in turn kept me tight as a screw. So there we had it. My two interviews on my son's ninth birthday with no preparation, no shaved legs, no killer outfit. A splash of eyeliner, some affirming self-talk, my twenty years of Peabody experience (which I hope gets me somewhere!), and I'm the last of eight to interview for the coveted Assistant Dean of Student Affairs position.
They say they'll let us know by this Friday. I knew that by then I'd be at my beloved cottage on Higgins Lake and the Assistant Dean position would feel a very long way away. The distance will do us both good. I need the space and time in my favorite place on Earth. And maybe they need space to weigh their many options. My twenty years at Peabody College of Vanderbilt is a long time. But I could stand to make it a little longer. It's a special place too. A second home of sorts since moving to Nashville twenty plus years ago. I love that place. And boy, do I hope they love (and want!) me - shaved legs or not. But for my next big thing, for good measure, I sure would like to shave. It may make all the difference.I'll keep you posted.
