Promotion

Yesterday, I was informed that the Lewis & Clark Law School faculty had voted to grant me tenure.

Also this week, Nathaniel's preschool wrote to tell us that he was ready to be moved up to the next age group.

Both pieces of news are, of course, very exciting, and very emotional.

For me, this has been the culmination of literally twenty-five years of work. I first knew I wanted to be a law professor in high school, when I had the good fortune of being on the debate team with a friend whose father taught law at Georgetown. It was soon very apparent that he had the job I wanted. He got to think interesting thoughts for a living. How cool was that! That's what I wanted to do!

Becoming a law professor was my ambition. And that was a big deal, because I didn't (and don't) really see myself as an ambitious person. For the most part, I'm a pretty content person. I'm happy with what I have. To really want something is fraught. You might not get it. And my pursuit of an academic job reflects that -- I went on the entry-level job market five times before I finally got a job offer. The preceding years were full of one heartbreak after another. I had jobs change requirements in the middle of the interview process. I had one school interview me on three separate years, advancing me to the final stage of the process twice, and then both times end up pulling the hiring line altogether days before the actual vote for budgetary or internal-politics reasons. I had schools in dream locations or with dream program setups where I was the runner-up. And I had years where I didn't get any callbacks at all.

It was maddening. I knew this was what I was meant to do. I knew this was the only job that would make me happy. And I knew that I was qualified. I had an outstanding academic record, a solid clerkship, legitimate teaching experience, and a lengthy publication record featuring articles in some stellar journals. None of this entitled me to a job, of course. But I knew I wasn't delusional in thinking I should have been competitive for one. People often stressed how much getting an academic job was a matter of luck. I know even more now that this is entirely true (I've said that serving on the appointments committee here at Lewis & Clark has been equal parts cathartic and retraumatizing, because peering inside the black box one gets a sense for how random and arbitrary this whole process can be). And while at one level that was meant to be comforting -- it's not you, it's the cosmos -- for the most part feeling like "well, I guess the universe hates me" wasn't comfortable at all.

Words cannot express how low I got in the midst of my years of unsuccessful attempts. In fact, I have a distinct memory of being absolutely miserable at the conclusion of yet another heartbreaking hiring cycle and swearing that, no matter what eventually happened or how things might play out in the years that follow, my future self would never say "but it worked out for the best."

I won't betray my past self's promise. Maybe I'd be equally happy if I had gotten an academic job the first time around and never went through this rigamarole. But what I can say is that I am incredibly happy, and incredibly lucky, and incredibly fortunate to be at this school and in this city, with these colleagues and living this life. At the end of the day, there aren't many people who can honestly say they're living their dream, and I am.

And speaking of dreams, let's turn to Nathaniel's own big promotion.

The message wasn't surprising. Nathaniel was by far the oldest in the "infants" room and was already walking (and starting to kind of say a few words). In fact, Jill and I had talked about broaching the subject of when he should be moved up just a few days before we got the email from school. Nathaniel was ready for new stimulation and new challenges. He'll go from being the oldest kid in his class to the youngest, which will be an adjustment, but it will also be how he learns. He's already had a few sojourns into the new "Cats" class (he's currently an "Owl") and has gotten along well with the older kids. They're going to ease him in over the next few days, but it's time to make the move.

Weirdly, I've felt even more emotional about this than my own tenure vote (though in the latter case, the lack of emotion may be due to no small measure of disassociation during the runup). One of the things I was most worried about in becoming a new father was sentimentality. For my entire life (childhood and adulthood), I've been someone who gets very sentimental about change. I don't like it. I get comfortable where I am, and don't want to let it go. I still have all my childhood stuffed animals in a box (and thought of losing them in any way still is the fastest way to spur an emotional breakdown). I was devastated when my parents sold my childhood home. I had a panic attack around seventh grade because I was scared of growing up. It's a whole thing. And the thing about raising a kid is -- they're non-stop change! They outgrow things, they move past things, they transcend things. Everyone says to get excited about the growth, but I knew myself, and my propensity would absolutely be to fixate on the loss. I was sincerely very, very worried about this.

The good news has been that I've done way, way better than I ever could have anticipated on the "adjusting to change" front. A huge part of this is attributable to Nathaniel, who has handled every major adjustment with aplomb. Bassinet to crib? No problem. Dropping bottles? Barely noticed. Going to daycare after staying at home with mom and dad? Easy-peasy. He's a remarkably mellow and resilient guy, which makes it easier for me to be resilient too. (one of his teachers once wrote a message speaking of Nathaniel's "quiet dignity", which is an objectively hilarious way to describe a baby).

Anyway, for whatever reason this "graduation" hit me a little harder than the prior transitions I've rolled with. He's growing up so fast (in fairness, this one doesn't just "feel" fast, it is fast -- he's only been in his program for three months)! And while I know he can't stay in the infants room forever, for someone like me, who's seen his baby thriving in his current position, it always feels fraught to move him somewhere new. What if he doesn't like it? What if he misses his old teachers? What if he gets scared? All the questions every parent worries about (and one thing I love about sending him to this school is that the teachers and staff have seen it all before -- they'll know what to do). I suspect that three weeks from now, when Nathaniel is all settled in and thriving as he always does, I'll feel fine.

Regardless, there is something special about sharing this big promotion together. He's taking his big step up, and I'm taking my big step up. How lucky I am, to get to experience this moment of growth from both vantage points.