When I’m talking to students about preparing seminars I always tell them a story that I heard from someone that they heard from a friend about a sister’s roommate. The presenter was showing some data that they must have been awfully proud of. They put the overhead on the projector and said “I’ll let the data speak for itself” and then stood in silence for about 30 seconds, just letting everyone soak in the greatness that was his graph. (You know it’s a old story because (1) it’s an overhead projector and (2) it’s always “he.”)
We have a good laugh and then have the discussion about the proper way to present data so there aren’t large, uncomfortable pauses.
But as I’m writing my tenure statement, that’s all I really want to do. Give them my CV and be done with it.
A tenure statement is supposed to let the committee and whoever else is voting know just how great you are and all the wonderful things that you’ve done while at your institution. You play up the good stuff and explain away the bad stuff. If I had had to write this statement back in high school or early college, I might not have had the trouble that I’m having now.
I liked to talk about myself back then! I was stinking proud of all of the things I did and my grades and my ACT scores. But sometime during college, I finally realized what the rest of the world already knew: Nobody cared and nobody wanted to hear about it. So I changed my boasting ways. I don’t put myself out where everyone can see me on a regular basis. If I get something cool and exciting, I don’t generally trumpet it to the world. I’m still proud of my achievements, but I don’t assume that everyone else wants to hear about them in gory detail.
But the committee wants the blood and guts in technicolor and IMAX surround sound. They want to make sure that I’m a good fit and up to the standards of the college.
At first I was having trouble starting to write because I knew it would be a lot of work and I like to procrastinate like that. The lawn looked great and the kitchen was probably cleaner than it has been in years. The cats were all good and played with and I was cooking every night.
Now that I’ve actually started the damn thing, I’m having trouble focusing because I’m tired of hearing about me! (Notice that this post is from the middle of the afternoon…) I feel like if I could just set my CV to music and have someone sing it to them, it would be much more entertaining and maybe keep their attention more than what I have now – so far 7 single-spaced pages of “I’m great” and “I love my job!” Well, at least I still have 11 days before it is due. An hour or so a day just might get me to the end of this chore without puking.