My eyes opened at 4:45AM. I was tightly wrapped in the hotel bedsheets, in the exact same position I had been in when I fell asleep. As I woke up and noticed the blurry hotel room door ahead of me, I remembered where I was and why I was there. It was interview day. A wave of anxiety rushed over me. Immediately, my heart began to race. I tried to shut my eyes and do some deep breathing, but it didn't help. My breaths were too shallow, my heart rate was too fast. I tossed and turned for another hour before finally getting up.
It was interview day. My one and only on-campus interview this whole year. My only tenure-track option. And my last. I had resolved months ago that this year was going to be my final attempt at the academic job market. There was a lot riding on this interview, I finally realized. I mean, my heart and my body were fully aware of all the pressure I had put on this interview. No wonder I was so agitated, avoidant, anxious, irritable, and--did I mention avoidant? I kept telling myself I was fine. That it would be okay. That no matter what, I'd figure something out and be happy. That this interview wasn't a big deal. But I was lying to myself. It was a huge deal, even if I didn't want it to be.
I threw on some comfortable clothes and walked down to the hotel breakfast area. My interview day would begin with a breakfast, but that wasn't for another 2 hours. I needed coffee and a snack. The coffee was rejuvenating. I grabbed a banana with some peanut butter and walked back to my room. Inside, I sat at a desk and browed social media while I enjoyed my coffee--a somewhat successful attempt at regulating my nervous system. I opened my laptop and opened up some documents I thought might be helpful: a list of potential interview questions with my answers, the slides to my presentations for the day. I clicked through my presentations but realized there was no point. No new information was going in, and no new ideas were coming out. "Don't over-prepare," I said to myself. Advice from my grad-school advisor.
It was about 45 minutes until I had to head down to the lobby. I started getting ready. I pulled out all my makeup, turned on my hair straightener, and opened Spotify. The music helped a lot. I put on some upbeat songs and bobbed my head or sang along as I got ready.
In the closet, I had two potential interview outfits hanging. I thought I was going to do a pastel green blazer with the cashmere tank top, but I hated the way it looked as soon as I put it on (even though I had loved it when I tried it on at home). Thank goodness I brought two outfits. I pulled out the top and blazer I had bought from Anthropologie just a few days ago just for this interview. "This will do," I thought. I packed my bag, including a few snacks that I ultimately would not touch for the entire day, nervously tidied the room, and headed out. My heart rate was 138 beats per minute. I was NERVOUS.
Breakfast was at a really quaint restaurant down the street. I felt like I was dining in someone's cottage. I met with three faculty members, all of whom were incredibly friendly and spent most of the time sharing information about what it's like to work at the university and in the department. One of my mentors once told me, "I know it's easy to let people do all the talking during an interview, but you need to make sure to take up time and space, too. Otherwise, people won't remember anything about you. The interview is your chance to make a positive impression on people." It's excellent advice. I also was not ready to take it. I was too nervous and I needed to warm up. I let the faculty do most of the talking.
When I arrived at the university, I was greeted by the department chair. We talked to kill some time before my first presentation of the day: a teaching demonstration. The teaching demonstration was going to be 20 minutes in front of an actual undergraduate class. There were maybe 20-30 students in the classroom. After the inaugural quarter hour of technical difficulties, it was time to roll.
Let me tell you something: I crushed it. The presentation went so well. I communicated the information clearly. My slides looked great. I was confident. The students were fantastic--attentive and willing to participate. The primary instructor of the course looked pleased and I even heard from a student later in the day about how much they enjoyed my presentation.
Let me tell you something else: The success of this presentation is owed in great part to the excellent suggestions of my wonderful and supportive friends and colleagues who came to my practice talk just a week prior. Thank you.
The teaching demo gave me a much-needed confidence boost, because I was headed straight to my next presentation: the job talk.
After another 15 minutes of technical difficulties (it's not an important presentation without technical difficulties), it was go-time. The job talk--or presentation of my past, present, and future research--was held in a rather large lecture hall. I was nervous because I had finished my slides late at night while I was on my final plane ride. And remember, this was after an exhausting day of travel with almost eight hours in delays. I mumbled my slides to myself on the plane and realized my presentation was too long, so I sleepily cut out some slides, ran through them one more time (again, mumbling to myself under my breath on the airplane), and decided it was good enough. So my interview was actually my first full-out run-through of the final slide deck. Nice.
To my relief, the presentation went well. Before the pandemic, I was adamant about memorizing my presentations because I never wanted to rely on presenter view (sometimes it doesn't work!). But Zoom talks had spoiled me. And I was too last minute and frantic about this talk to memorize anything. So let's just say I was incredibly lucky to have had access to presenter view for this talk. I am also grateful to the audience. They were engaged, excited about my work, and asked great questions. This left a really positive impression on me.
After the talk, it was time for a roundtable lunch. People asked more questions about my job talk, and other questions about my research more broadly. I also asked a few questions, and attempted to eat my sandwich. But let's be real, I was too nervous to eat. And too busy talking. Also sandwiches are messy and the bread was a baguette so it was stiff and I wasn't trying to fight to rip bread with my teeth and then get all the insides of the sandwich spilling and hanging out of my mouth while everyone is watching me. I realized quickly that I was not going to be eating much today. The anxiety and lack of food were catching up to me, though. After lunch, I chugged another water bottle and took some Ibuprofen to fight off a stubborn headache that had emerged. Almost done.
The rest of my day included a tour of the campus and one-on-one meetings with the dean of the college (psychology is housed within the "college of liberal arts"), the dean of diversity, and the department chair. The meeting with the dean was probably the most intimidating. They were very nice, but it just felt more formal. I also recognized that this was the person who would have to sign-off on whether I get an offer and what that offer entails. So it felt high-stakes. I wish I could remember what they asked me... I think it was questions like: what are your long-term research plans and do you envision yourself being able to do your research successfully here? I may have also gotten questions about my teaching experience and prior diversity efforts. This was the only interview where I was asked formal questions.
The meetings with the dean of diversity was delightful because it was non-evaluative. Just an informational meeting to learn more about the college's diversity efforts, which I was glad to hear about. Then, the department chair talked to me about logistics (e.g., tenure requirements, how people manage research and teaching). After that, it was time for dinner.
Wait--dinner?
Omg. I did it. I made it to the end of my interview day. The day flew by. It was great to have my presentations out of the way early. Everything else felt like a breeze. I mean, I still had to be *on* all day obviously, and that was exhausting. But everyone was so kind and excited to meet me. There were no tricky questions, challenges, or skepticism about me or my work. Not once did I feel like I was being grilled or under scrutiny. People were just genuinely interested to get to know me and tell me more about how much they loved working at the university. What a treat.
My last stop was dinner with a few faculty. I knew this was not the time to "turn off" just yet, but I felt that the evaluative part of the day was over. Now, I just needed to be a decent person. I wanted the faculty to feel like they would enjoy having me as a colleague and even friend. Dinner was delicious and the faculty who joined made a great group. Conversation was easy and there was lots of laughter. I tried my best to stay peppy and engaged but I was definitely fading. I needed sleep and I needed some quiet introvert time. I hadn't had a moment to myself in 12 hours. My mom even texted my husband because she was so worried about me. I didn't even have a second to check my messages during the day!
When I finally got back to my hotel room, I could think of nothing but sleep. I immediately hopped in the shower, reluctantly brushed my teeth (it's the last thing I want to do when I'm exhausted), threw on my pajamas and hopped in bed. I tried to scroll through my phone but I was too tired. My head was pounding. All I wanted was rest. So I let out a big sigh, shut my eyes, and smiled to myself. I did it. I did the hard thing. I landed an interview and I nailed it. After all the self-doubt, negative self-talk, anxiety, stress, late nights, I had made it here. And now all I had to do was hope that I had done enough to get to the final step: a job offer. But that was for a different day. Today, I was proud of myself. I wrapped the blankets tightly around myself and fell asleep.
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