The UnPromotable Wonder has expired, effective September 16, 2014. While a memorial service or wake might be considered appropriate for an expiration of such a long standing entity in my life, a celebration involving good wine, good friends, and a few hours of carefree, work-free living may be substituted in its place.
In the middle of the celebration belongs the guy responsible for orchestrating what I still believe to be a largely impossible feat.... my promotion from associate to full professor at the University of Washington. That guy's name is doG spelled backwards. I still don't know how He made this happen, but I am immensely grateful for the promotion for multiple reasons. Most of all, I feel that I now have a voice to speak what I feel and think that I haven't had during these very long years of being stuck in the associate professor role. For many, many years, I've stayed silent for fear of offending aggravating, or otherwise (further) damaging my credibility before my colleagues in my home department and college. The new title after my name will also help me to chase after funding for future research. It may encourage students to offer a wee bit more respect in their interactions with me, and it will bring back out my natural desire to socialize and care for my colleagues, now that I don't have the large black outcast cloud hanging over my head that goes along with the failure to be promoted. Last but not least, the little raise that comes with the new title will offset the financial strain brought on by resigning a third of my appointment this past year. I am very grateful.
Promotion in the academic world takes over a year and a half. The process is so exhausting (for the candidate and for those supporting the candidate's case) that doing it all over again two years in a row is highly unlikely. In January of 2013, I requested that my case be reviewed for promotion. A small committee (of three) was formed who in turn recommended to move my case forward. Early in the Spring of 2013, my home department then gave a positive vote, and the case was sent out for recommendation letters from experts in my research community outside the University of Washington. During my annual review in the Spring of 2013, I was told that as long as my letters were very good, my case should proceed smoothly through the remaining hoops. Over the summer, busy and successful faculty of whom I remain unaware spent a good part of their valuable time writing letters for me. In the Fall of 2013, I was told the letters were all very positive. If I hadn't been through years and years of heartache and headache with my home department, I would have actually felt hope that my promotion case would continue upward through the remaining hoops without risk of falling flat on its face.
In November of 2013, however, the case went before my home department again during a faculty meeting to which I (as all candidates) was neither invited nor welcome. Transparent, the promotion process is not. The same group of people who voted to push my case forward for promotion were now not so sure of their final vote. At the end of the meeting, the vote was positive but not a quorum. If more of my full professor colleagues had attended the meeting, the outcome might have been better, but ten "Yes" votes and eight "No" votes amounts to "Denial". Usually, the department chair writes a recommendation consistent with the faculty vote. Surprisingly, my department chair went against the vote and recommended me to the Dean for promotion anyway. Months later, in February of 2014, the college (of engineering) council then considered the case. The outcome was a "weak recommendation" and acknowledgement that my case was "complicated". I then received a letter from the Dean that informed me he would not be recommending me for promotion to the Provost. The roller coaster marched onward. I was very tempted to simply give up and become a barista (never at Starbucks, however -- I still had standards).
Because some parts of the faculty code were forgotten in this whole process, my subsequent irritation drove me to push back at the system (some might even say that I was bordering on the "B" word). The faculty code had just been revised to guarantee some transparency in the process, so that people like me didn't feel in the dark about why they were denied nor about what to do in the future to improve chances for promotion. So, back to the drawing board I went. Another conversation with the chair in my home department led to a phone meeting with the Dean. I had questions lined up for all the different possible directions the conversation with the Dean might take, all of which came to a standstill when the first words I heard from him over the phone line were "I've changed my mind." This happened in March, but having been in the academic and work world for over 20 years, I never believe anything that isn't in writing, so I waited for the official letter before believing I was finally done with this nightmare of advancement in rank.
This promotion belongs to God... who in the middle of so many who either don't like, don't respect, or don't understand what I do as a faculty member, decided to find the few who would spend a lot of time organizing, leading, and supporting my case and then find one person in the right position of power who would stick up for me. While I am still shocked (delightfully so) by this outcome, I am even more surprised by how clever God is, not only in how He uses long waits and long suffering for good, but also in how He can work with all His children to get His will accomplished.
I owe credit to God for this promotion and thanks to the few in the academic world and the many outside of it who have supported me through this long process. My heartfelt response to God for this gift is: "Wowsy, Thanks so much! "
More importantly, the next step is to drop back from the excitement and the temptation to let my ego get involved in this promotion and instead, turn back to Him for guidance on how I can better serve His purpose for my life in this next phase of it.
She thought: