I've been meaning to explain what I mean by thriving on low expectations, because I really do. There are some people who love a challenge; they love the adrenaline that comes from being told "This is really hard" or "You can't do this." I am not one of those people. I do not rise to the occasion under such circumstances - rather, I choke.

I'm willing to say that a goodly part of what happened to me in my previous tenure quest was that I choked. I didn't make the right moves at the right times . . . In an atmosphere where I constantly felt I had to watch my back, my natural impulse was to hide. (Why did I feel I had to watch my back? Well, let's see . . . here's an example. At the school where I got my first tenure-track job - you know, that one where they hired eight people in my department the year I got there, not one of whom is still there?? - yeah, that one . . . anyhow, at that school, I remember talking to a junior faculty member who'd served on a hiring committee and was subsequently told by a senior faculty member, "You did well. I don't think you said anything that will jeopardize your tenure chances!") Even though I wanted tenure, I couldn't make it happen.

And then there was the point when I knew for sure I wouldn't make it. After I was denied tenure initially, I was told I could have a second chance - I could come up again either in the next spring or fall. I then went around and talked to various people in my department about my situation. One person told me, "You have to make nice with X. Nobody gets tenure in this department unless she says it's a go." At that moment, I knew it was never going to happen; I would never be able to bring myself to pretend that I was seeking someone's advice just to play along.

And at that moment I also realized that the whole tenure process at that school and time felt to me like . . . rushing a sorority. I actually was in a sorority during my first year at college. Everything went fine until the second year, when I was on the other side of rush, and got to see why people were turned down in the sorority. (I should note that my sorority was a group of misfits, really - intellectuals, offbeat characters, and a few dykes . . . [do we still say that word?]. The National Office had sent down reinforcements to supervise us during the rush process so we wouldn't slip up and admit someone we liked but who wasn't sorority material . . . ) Anyhow, after going through that, I promptly resigned from the sorority.

(This is not to mention the anxiety that comes with having a significant part of your future dependent on the vagaries of the academic publishing industry . . . how many stories have I heard of people who had a book contract in Year Five, only to hear at the beginning of Year Six that the press folded, and they didn't have enough publications for tenure?? Who needs that kind of grief?)

So maybe I never had it in me to put up with six years of crap.

Well, I could go on and on with the stories, as could all you academics out there; it's a brutal system, in many ways. Suffice to say that I am much happier in a place where the expectations are lower and more clearly defined. I like being somewhere where my colleagues are my peers and not my supervisors.

And now that I have met the expectations here, I find that I am beginning to think about How I Can Improve. This is the best thing for me about low expectations; if I know I'm going to succeed, I often work really hard because there's no anxiety associated with the work. Something shifts, and I'm once again working for intrinsic motivation instead of external validation.

I think I had an epiphany of sorts about this - more specifically, about me and writing journal articles - when I went to the MSU library last week. As I was standing there in the stacks, agonizing about this paper I'm still in the middle of, I thought to myself, "Christ in the Andes, Marcy, what are you so worried about? You've written papers for years, always the same (last-minute) way, and it's always been just fine. Why would this be any different?" And you know, I actually started to relax. This doesn't have to be a fabulous paper; it doesn't have to be earth-shattering or groundbreaking; it doesn't have to win me tons of accolades. It just has to be [a] first and foremost, DONE, because it's overdue and [b] something I find interesting and that pleases me to write about.

And now I'm actually having fun writing it. I'm still on the fence when it comes to writing this type of piece; I don't know if this epiphany will stick and I'll agree to do another one and also enjoy that one, or whether I'll agree to write something else and be miserable, or whether I'll chuck the whole idea in favor of weaving. But whatever happens, I'll do what I do because I want to. What a kick that is!!

And what I want, oddly enough, is to do this job to the best of my ability - something I can only seem to do if people will be satisfied if I just do okay.

I am so happy to have found a place where I belong! Finally I can stop analyzing and agonizing . . . (NOTE: What I have just done here is not agonizing. It's chortling.)