The place that feels right

2 March 2012

So I have a new favorite tumblr: Libraryland, which is surely curated by someone who would be a high priestess in my religion of libraries. This image is relatively unusual for the site, but who doesn’t like to learn new words?

But I also post this because I fear being an academic will always prohibit me from living in that place where I feel I ought to live. We professors go where we’re lucky enough to get a job — and if we have choices about jobs, the choice rarely permits us to select even a region of the country, much less a highly specific region or town. This depressing fact about academia has been enough to drive people out of it, even after they’ve dedicated 8 years to a dissertation and 6 or 7 years to an assistant professorship.

There are no jobs for professors in Fort Bragg, California, which would be my cynefin. So I guess I’m relegated to option #2, which is not living in those parts of the country that destroy my soul.


2 Responses to “The place that feels right”

  1. servetus Says:

    This has been on my mind a lot lately. Would I stay where I am despite my feelings of severe dislocation (worse than in my last job, where I at least had an adversarial relationship with the place)? How much is it worth? A lot of people who live on the plains would kill for this location.

    • Didion Says:

      This topic makes me feel depressed every time I give it serious thought. To be honest, most of the time I repress these thoughts because 1) I need a job, and I am lucky to have one in these times; 2) even more important, I need health insurance; and 3) I don’t hate the location of my job.

      But I also think the fact that I don’t get to live all that close to my family and/or best friends and/or in a cynefin ultimately eats at my soul. Like rust, to quote Margaret Hale.

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