I just couldn’t hit the “Send” button. I had done everything right, but there was something about the gravity of that moment. I just couldn’t do it, so I saved the e-mail as a draft and moved on to other things. When I was hired on as a tenure-track faculty member, I inherited co-adviser duties for Richard Bland College’s small art and literary publication, Mnemosyne. The e-mail was my first real action as co-adviser.
The e-mail was simple enough, announcing an interest meeting for Mnemosyne. We need to build student interest in the literary side of the publication. I had talked to my co-adviser and to some students. We had brainstormed some ways to improve the publication and we discussed things to do at this first meeting. I even had a draft of an agenda for the meeting.
I wrote the e-mail and addressed it to all faculty and students. Hitting “Send” would not only announce a meeting, but it would also be me announcing myself to almost the entire school. The e-mail would mark my arrival as a colleague, as a mentor, and as a leader. Frankly, I never had this level of responsibility as an adjunct; I’m not used to it.
So I stalled. I asked questions. I took a walk. I left the e-mail in draft form and went home. The next day, I proofread the e-mail a half-dozen times. Somewhere along the way, though, I realized that the time had come for me to put myself out there.
Then I hit “Send.”Return to Top