Forescore and 561 unanswered e-mails ago, I thought it might be time to take a leave of absence from my graduate studies in the humanities. I needed a break and felt it was time to see some new pastures. Having taught foreign languages to undergraduates for the past four years and read thousands of pages of Foucault, Barthes, Nietzsche, Benjamin, and the like—I was looking forward to giving my thinking brain a break.
Once I decided to take some time away, I knew what awaited me would not be a cakewalk. For most, academia is known for its job security. Once you lock in a position as a tenure-track professor at any institution, it takes a severe level of misconduct before any action for your removal can be taken. Even as a graduate student with a one-year teaching contract, I felt highly protected from any rogue economic-based layoff waves. My position was certainly comfortable; as long as I upheld the status quo, nothing drastic would change. However, take one step out of academia, and this could not be further from the case.
Finding a job is its own challenge. Especially when you’ve never had to look for a job, much less been trained to sell your experience to get the first interview. When I entered the working world outside of academia, I experienced many a culture shock. I was shocked to learn that much of the work out there does not require much if any, expertise. Most jobs are learned by doing, but I was entirely unprepared for working in an environment that requires a great deal of cooperation in teams. This may sound funny, but teamwork—that was the real challenge? In my experience, when asked, most people would describe themselves as a team-player. Yet, this is a hard-learned skill that is ignored in most graduate programs in the humanities.
In the workplace, with competing time schedules, after-work obligations, time off, vacations, meetings, and trainings all vying for space in our calendars—it rarely leaves much room for much overlapping time with coworkers and colleagues, yet the work remains. The tasks remain the same, and someone has to do them.
Funnily enough, I had rarely had this experience in grad school. Apart from taking over teaching a class from a colleague here and there, I was always working independently. Whether in preparation for my own seminars, presentations, research, or lectures; for the most part, I was completely in control of when things got finished and when I did them. The few times my work required cooperation from another colleague, it was usually to my displeasure. I learned that my ethos in trusting others to uphold their responsibilities wasn’t always mutually shared. Co-led presentations were the outlier, and I picked folks I was confident I could count on. But, often, I was let down.
Too often, I experienced that folks in academia can be a bit self-absorbed. I don’t mean ego—though if you interpreted it that way, I wouldn’t stop you from doing so—but their priorities commonly lay with their interests and their own work, not that of others. In academia, we are all familiar with the trope of the absent-minded professor. The professor who loses their students’ papers, comes late to class, and never answers their emails on time.
Over my time in graduate school, I had professors who gave us their cell numbers to call them if they were over 20 minutes late to class; I have had professors who couldn’t be bothered to post the links for the readings they assigned to us. I once had two professors, who both individually, left my emails unanswered for months trying to get them to sign a simple form. Yet, the same professor would complain if I didn’t answer him in two days. It’s not hard to see where this culture among graduate students comes from.
I was by no means immune to this culture either. Over the last year, I have worked in corporate and academic-adjacent jobs and was jolted into an entirely different work culture. E-mails are answered within the day, sometimes within the hour, work is divided and distributed among colleagues, and cooperation on projects, tasks, and the complete overtaking of work for colleagues who are sick or on vacation is a daily occurrence. I was used to taking my time and choosing which tasks I focused on first, and I could concentrate for hours on one task. This was no issue. Non-academic jobs work substantially differently: prioritize and optimize were given entirely new meanings to me.
I learned some hard and embarrassing lessons.
When I interviewed for my Ph.D. program, I asked the faculty what opportunities they provided for students who wouldn’t develop into full-time academics. I was disappointed in the answers I was given, yet I decided to attend anyway. For most graduate students in the humanities, academia will not be feasible. The lack of open, well-paying positions in this industry are relatively low. Out of the ~5,000 humanities PhDs awarded in the US in 2020, there were only ~3,000 open positions in academia. Combined with the number of Ph.D. students who graduated in the years prior who did not immediately land an academic job, doctorate holders who apply from abroad, and faculty from competing institutions, these career outlooks are far from promising.
I would never discourage anyone from studying the humanities, whether at the doctorate or master’s levels. Still, one must be realistic regarding which career paths are available and probable for many humanities students. This is why I would encourage anyone in the humanities, regardless of which stage you are at in your study, to consider taking some professional experience outside of academia. Whether it is a leave of absence, a summer internship, or a side job during your abroad year—rounding out your education with real-life work experience will enhance the skills you already have and help you to develop brand new ones when you take your professional life onward.