my life

...here I come!

I got the job. That's right. I'm going to "the hill," y'all.

While many have been seeing this as a foregone conclusion since I got the personal invitation I spoke of lo these many months past, I have not. I'm all too aware of the possible slips 'twixt the cup and the lips. Thus...between work and paper-writing for Dr. S, I have buried myself in Shakespeare and Elizabethan history, taken copious notes, written and rewritten my presentation, and in general lost a lot of sleep toiling over it.

I probably got ten hours of sleep total in the 48 hours preceding my interview, most notably because my presentation wasn't finished. The instructions I'd received for my presentation were this: make it something "literary," because the Academy wanted to see my presentation skills (and mine aren't sterling...yet). They also--more importantly--wanted to see how I think. I spent far more time researching background information than I did writing, and it paid off.

My instructions were these: show up at 7:50am at the field house. Be picked up by Capt S. Go to a class with one of the instructors. Be interviewed in thirty-minute segments by various members of the department until 11:00. Be interviewed (30 minutes) with Col Harrington, the Department head. At 11:45, give my presentation in the conference room for the entire English department, who would be brown-bagging it. Take a short break (30 minutes), then be interviewed by various other people in the department until 3:00pm. I would be notified within a few weeks, at most, whether I got the position. Up to the moment I arrived, no one seemed to even know how many positions they had to fill. Or maybe I just didn't ask the right people.

This was going to be the gauntlet...the interview from hell.

So there I stood in the field house--indoors, as Colorado in October is cold to my Alabama bones--looking for Capt S...a young man I'd spoken with on the phone a few times. He was nowhere to be seen. I walked to another parking area, lugging my things, wondering where I was supposed to meet him, exactly, at "the field house."*

* When we made these arrangements on the phone, I thought the field house would be a building small enough for it to be clear which side and which door to meet him at. As it turns out, "field house" is Academy-speak for "gymnasium," including the normal stuff you'd find at a field house, an indoor track, an indoor basketball court, a huge indoor weight center, and an ice rink...and probably a bunch of stuff I didn't see yet.

I finally went back to the front entrance, which seemed to be the logical place to meet, and noticed an SUV circling the parking lot repeatedly. A woman was driving. I stepped out to the curb, she pulled over, and asked if I was Capt Black. I hopped in. Apparently, Capt S had to go TDY at the last minute.

Off we went. This was Maj Binns. She didn't seem very talkative. I didn't know if it was me or if someone had run over her cat that morning. I assumed the latter, and remained upbeat. I asked her what she teaches; she said she was going to our exchange student* class, and talked about what good English they have this year, and that it's sometimes better than the American students' English.

* I did not know we had an exchange student program at the USAFA. You learn something new every day.

First I met Jenny Caballero, a young captain who just started teaching. She told me that she'd been a direct hire, as well, and she thought for a while that she'd be doing back-office work while she waited for the thesis committee to complete their part of the bargain and issue her degree. She still doesn't have the degree, per se, but she does have a letter stating that she will receive it in December. (Apparently, she has to wait for an official "degree-issuing" date.)

This information instantly took a load off my mind. I have worked my schedule to graduate in May '06. I finish my last two regular classes this semester and I write my thesis prospectus. Next semester, I'll write my thesis. I've been harboring a fear that the Academy wouldn't issue orders to install me until I had the degree itself in my hot little hand. Clearly, that is not the case. This way, even if my thesis committee is slow to do whatever it is they do, I'm still clear to PCS to the Academy next summer.

I went to class with Jenny. I was expecting a disciplined sort of class like we had at OTS, with students sitting up straight and talking one at a time. But no. Other than the part where they spring to attention when she walks in and report that all are present and accounted for, it was a group of 19-year old boys. Exceptionally bright ones, incidentally. These kids, as you might imagine, must have excellent SAT scores to get into the Academy, and it shows in their questions and comments. I found the experience very exhilerating.

When we left, I asked her where the girls in the class were. She said she has another class with four girls in it. Apparently, the percentage of female cadets is uncommonly low. I also noticed (and later confirmed in a conversation with Col Harrington) that the cadet population is overwhelmingly white. It isn't planned that way; apparently, qualified females and minorities simply aren't applying much. But...I found it interesting.

After the class, I spoke with Jenny a bit more, then was steadily shuffled from one person to the next. They asked me about my background--personal, academic and military. What would I do if I had unlimited time and resources? What was the last book I'd read that I'd recommend to someone else or buy them for Christmas? (Guns, Germs and Steel, which I read in Iraq. I haven't had a chance to read for pleasure since.) What is my favorite literature? Was I interested in going on to a PhD? Did I have any questions for them?

Yes I did. The answers are these: they have six slots to fill in the English department, thanks to some encouraged retirements last year following one of their recent scandals. They have two slots they will sponsor for MA degrees, and six people applied for those. They have one other direct hire applicant besides me. Doing the math, that means if they hire all they can from current applicants, they still have two vacant slots. This also took a load off my mind. :)

All of them bragged about their Rhodes scholar. When I met him, he introduced himself as "Tom." You don't get less pretentious than that. He's a retired civilian who has never been military. He decided after a couple of years of retirement that he misses academia, so he came to the Academy and offered his services. He walked me down the cafe and bought me a granola fruit yoghurt, and I ate while he told me how much he'd enjoyed my writing samples--particularly the one about my mother and piano, then we chatted about refinishing furniture for a bit.

The interview with Col Harrington with smoothly. She's also unpretentious and quite approachable.

I rocked their worlds with my presentation. OK. My presentation skills do need work and I'll be the first to admit it, but they obviously enjoyed my subject matter and laughed at my jokes. I think I talked about 30 minutes, although I'd meant to keep it shorter. Nobody dozed off, though, so it was all good. Then we had a rigorous discussion. This is where all my homework on my subject matter came in handy. And a few got into arguments with each other, which is to be expected when you have that many highly educated people in a room.

By the time I was finished, I was sure I had it in the bag. I had more interviews that afternoon. Maj Binns warned me about Lt Col Campbell, saying he might ask me some tough questions. He walked in about that point, sat down, and smiled at me. He said, "Is there anything that would talk you out of coming out here to teach?"

I said, "No sir."

He said, "Ok. I'm done." I spent the next hour and a half shifting from one office to the next chatting about my planned thesis topic, their dissertations, Shakespeare, and whatever crept up.* The pretense of "interviewing the applicant" had been completely dropped by this point.

* Including the question as to why I hadn't surfaced on their search last year or the year before for officers with undergraduate English degrees. Apparently, they'd run a search on official records for possible applicants that they could court for the position. My SURF (I don't know what it stands for, but it's the electronic official record of my basic information) says I have an undergrad in "Creative Writing" because some doofus filled it in wrong (and this doofus never bothered to correct it). I don't even think such a thing exists, but that's why they didn't find me--I had to find them. Had they found me, they'd have sponsored me for an MA in English somewhere and brought me in to teach a couple of years ago. (!)

There aren't many officers with undergraduate English degrees to choose from. The selection boards frequently only accept technical degree applicants.

The secretary rearranged my schedule so I could meet with Col Harrington again at 2:30. When I went into her office, she asked if I still wanted to teach for them. I said, "Very much so."

She stood and shook my hand and said, "Well congratulations. You have a job. Normally, we don't know on the first day. We have to discuss it for a while and reach a concensus. Everyone is impressed with your package and your knowledge. They all want you on board." She told me that my one-on-one skills are stronger than my presentation skills (yep), but she could see the potential in my presentation skills, and I'll improve with time and practice (which is one of the many reasons I want the job).

She gave me a department coin, too. It has a picture of Shakespeare on the back and says, "Friends don't let friends read junk." :D She also gave me an envelope to deliver to Col Quin.

Before I left, we were seriously discussing how long it would be before I'd be leaving to begin my PhD. (!) The Academy tour is three years, but I could leave at the two-year point to work on my PhD for three years, after which I owe the AF five years.

Upon leaving, Col Harrington shook my hand again and said, "Welcome aboard! We're excited."

I said, "No more excited than me."

She said, "Than I."

Doh. :)

Everybody I talked with (except Maj Binns) apparently enjoy their jobs a great deal. The students are intelligent and fun and want to do well. We get paid to read great literature and talk about it. Most of the people in the department have been there for many years, and they're looking for someone, like me, who wants to homestead there.

Now...back to the next Dr. S paper. Y'all take care. :)

d