My Non-Academic Transition Story, Part II

This is the second post in a series about how I made the transition to non-academic work after my English PhD program (if you missed it, here’s Part I).

As I mentioned in my previous post, even though I knew a non-faculty role was likely where I would end up after finishing my PhD due to the state of the academic job market, I didn’t officially make the decision to leave until the end of my final semester. However, just because I had kept the possibility in mind didn’t mean I knew what kind of non-academic work I was interested in.

I began with my university’s career center, which was helpful as a starting point, but I really felt that having my doctorate (coupled with only a few years of non-academic work experience) meant that I needed advice that was more tailored to my specific situation.

Fortunately, I had learned about Beyond the Professoriate* a year or so prior through one of their free webinars, and I was lucky that my university had an institutional subscription to their services (meaning I could access them for free). In addition to their podcast –which as of this writing is free, so I recommend it as a place to start—they offer a three-module course that is specifically designed to help those with PhD backgrounds make the jump to a non-academic career. The first module in particular asks you to reflect on which aspects of your grad school/faculty life you enjoy, and which you don’t—and don’t worry, this goes far beyond whether you like “teaching” or “research.” Honestly, the early steps were a bit of a slog, but I’m so glad I didn’t skip them because while doing them, I realized some important things about my own academic likes and dislikes.

1. I realized I wanted greater career variety than a tenure-track job (if I ever got one) would provide. Even if I were to secure the coveted tenure-track position, I could look forward to one or two title changes, but even with a different rank my job functions would remain pretty much the same. I would also likely remain employed by the same academic institution for the remainder of my career. While some people might see these as perks of the academic life for the stability they can provide, I had witnessed enough academic dysfunction by the time I graduated to know that they could also be golden handcuffs.
   
2. While I like teaching, there are certain parts I really enjoy and others that I’m ambivalent towards or straight-up detest. I love leading class discussions, meeting with students one-on-one, and falling down research rabbit holes while planning the content of a course. I’m ambivalent towards crafting actual assignments, selecting course objectives, and scaffolding and sequencing that content. And I loathe, loathe, reading dozens and dozens of papers and drafts of papers for the purpose of assigning a grade.**
   
3. While I like research, I struggled with the hyper-specialization that is required of doctoral students and faculty. I am curious about a lot of things and really enjoy synthesizing information—I once told my advisor that I felt like a “research magpie.” Furthermore, while I enjoy writing, I don’t love the style of academic writing at the level I was expected to produce. It often felt formulaic and a bit too close to the gem from Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes for my tastes:

While it might not seem that these realizations gave me much of a direction, they helped me understand why some of the jobs that are often pitched as “natural” transitions for English PhDs did not resonate with me (e.g. instructional design, technical writing, K-12 teaching, grant writing). Being able to eliminate some of this low-hanging fruit freed me to think more broadly and creatively about what I might like to do next. Getting clear on my actual interests made tools such as the O*NET Interest Profiler and Imagine PhD far more useful.

Thinking more broadly and creatively about my non-academic career also meant that I could give myself permission, in a sense, to explore careers I might otherwise have immediately discounted. Around this time, I began conducting informational interviews, and I started by going through my LinkedIn connections and reaching out to acquaintances whose job titles sounded interesting, but I had no idea what they actually did (much like Chandler Bing).  I learned about roles such as government policy analysts, executive recruiters, science writers, career counselors, directors of student research and university centers for teaching and learning, community engagement specialists, corporate learning consultants, project managers, and program managers, to name a few. A couple of these roles felt almost right (and much to my surprise, one of those was executive search/recruiting, something I would never before have considered), but I wasn’t quite there yet.

I know a lot of people are nervous about the idea of informational interviewing, especially contacting people you don’t know and asking them for an interview. As an introvert, I was too, at first, which is why I started by reaching out to people I already knew and whom I was fairly confident wouldn’t reject me or laugh in my face. I also found that informational interviews actually sat well with my introversion because there is structure and purpose to the conversation–and ideally because the person being interviewed should do most of the talking. I looked up informational interview questions and built myself a template, which also helped my nerves. But what helped the most was having complete strangers agree to an interview and be so kind and generous with their time and knowledge.

For the curious, here’s an example of what my “cold-call” queries looked like:

Hello _____,

I came across your profile on LinkedIn and think the work you do sounds very intriguing. I recently completed my PhD in English from Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio and am in the process of exploring non-faculty roles for the next phase of my career. Would you be willing to chat with me about the [position] you hold and your path to it?

In the end, I held about 40 informational interviews, which as time went on became much more specific to the field I wanted to enter.

That field, in the end, is prospect research. I had never heard of this position prior to last summer, but I learned of it during an informational interview with one of my husband’s childhood friends. Prospect researchers operate within a nonprofit or foundation’s Development team and are sometimes called “development researchers” or “advancement analysts.” The core of this job is to support an organization’s gift officers by researching prospective and current major gift donors. This research helps the gift officers build and strengthen their relationships with donors and prospects, which will hopefully lead to a future major gift (major gift thresholds differ from one place to another). In some organizations, like the place I now work, this position can also have a hand in helping gift officers manage their donor portfolios (referred to as “prospect management”), which involves strategic thinking. Overall, this is a behind-the-scenes role that works in close connection with other members of the development/advancement team (e.g. Director of Development, stewardship managers, gift officers, database managers, data analysts), rather than working with people outside of the organization. Most organizations will have only one or two prospect researchers on-staff, whereas large ones might have a team of researchers. If you’d like a little more detail on what prospect researchers do, I recommend this great explanation by Susan Rollinson.

In my next post, I go into detail about how informational interviews were crucial to my job search and made me a stronger candidate during the application and interview process. Thanks for reading!

Continue to Part III

*Disclaimer: I am not being compensated in any manner for sharing my views about Beyond the Professoriate; my opinions are my own. This blog’s content is not designed or intended to generate money nor am I paid for blogging content.

**My experiments with labor-based, contract grading helped, but I wasn’t able to use this method in every class due to institutional requirements.

Informational Interview Question TemplateDownload

My Non-Academic Transition Story, Part I

It’s been two years since my last post, and a lot has happened in that time! A big part of this posting gap is that I became a parent in Feb. 2021, and I also earned my PhD in English in May 2022. Juggling parenting with teaching and finishing a dissertation, plus two years on the academic job market, consumed my time. (For more info on my teaching and research history, poke around this website–it’s still very academia-oriented.)

Another big change in this period (and the subject of what I expect will be a series of posts) is that I decided to leave academia. If you’re reading this post, you’re probably aware that there is already a lot of “quit lit” out there, and I guess I am now adding to the genre. Since reasons for leaving academia vary, however, I want to start by sharing a bit of my story and the context for my own decision, as well as the preparatory work that started well before my graduation.

Many factors went into my decision to leave academia—for one, becoming a parent shifted my priorities. And after my second “unsuccessful” year on the academic job market (including being a finalist for three positions in the second cycle but not receiving the offer for any of them), I found myself wondering if continuing to chase a faculty position was really worth it. I realized that even if I did manage to land a tenure-track position, I would then spend the next 5-6 years chasing tenure. Those years would overlap with my son’s early childhood, and since my spouse and I intend to be one-and-done child-wise, it is even more important to me to be present for him as much as possible. Additionally, hanging on to academia via adjunct or other contingent positions while I waited for that unicorn tenure-track position was not something I was interested in nor felt was financially viable. Finally, after years spent living far from family, I was having a harder and harder time opening myself to moving wherever a job took me. Becoming a parent during the pandemic made me keenly aware of how little support exists for parents outside of family networks, and I wanted to see my family members more than once a year (and wanted the same for my son). In the end, I realized that the faculty “dream job” wasn’t compatible with other values and goals that I had for my life.

While this was a difficult decision (I loved teaching and my research!), it was easier because I believed I could be happy working outside of academia. Between undergrad and grad school, I worked for an ethics & compliance hotline company—a job I only left because I wanted to pursue a Master’s degree. The work had been interesting and challenging, and I loved my colleagues.

I was also lucky that I had mentors who had mentally prepared me for the (likely) outcome that I would not get a tenure-track job. Even when I was applying for MA programs, the undergrad faculty who I approached for recommendation letters cautioned me to only pursue grad school if I genuinely wanted the degree itself, as there was no guarantee of a job at the end of it. I sat with this advice again before applying for PhD programs, and for this reason I chose a PhD program where I felt I could have the best all-around life while pursuing my degree (not necessarily the best-ranked program to which I was admitted). I’m sure plenty of people will think I made a mistake there, but I have absolutely no regrets.

Because I knew it was likely that I would end up with a non-ac job after my PhD, I tried to stay engaged with the non-ac working world while in my program. I attended yearly workshops offered by my university’s Career Services on how to apply for non-ac jobs and “translate” the skills I honed in grad school to non-ac careers. I took advantage of sponsorships from the School of Graduate Studies to attend Executive Education courses at my university’s School of Management, in order to network with non-academics and learn about topics that aren’t generally covered in graduate school (e.g. negotiation skills). I kept my LinkedIn profile current and continued to connect with people on that platform, so that I had a solid network by the time I graduated. I researched how others had made the non-ac jump, so I would have resources if/when the time came. Finally, I looked for opportunities to gain additional skills (which often came in the form of what some might view as “merely” service, such as working on committees).

While I think any current grad student would benefit from doing as much as they can during grad school to prepare for a non-ac transition, I must also point out that the sheer volume of what I was able to do was a direct result of privilege. During grad school, I had the huge benefit of having a partner with a good-paying job outside of academia, who also takes on an equal share of the parenting and home-care load. I am able-bodied and relatively healthy (though grad school took a toll on my mental health, as it does for many). I could afford regular childcare for my son while finishing my program. These are all huge advantages that I know many, many grad students do not have.

In the rest of this series, I plan to share the details of my non-ac transition, in the hopes that in sharing I can help others facing a similar move. I also benefitted from others who have shared their experience and resources, and I will link to them as much as possible.  

In the meantime, if you’re a faculty member or grad student gearing up for a non-ac job search, feel free to reach out and connect with me on LinkedIn (it would help if you included a note that you’re coming from my blog, since I generally try to only connect with people I know). Spoiler alert: networking was an incredibly important part of my own transition journey!

Continue to Part II