application time

(Photo credit: Mouse)

People like to ask me what’s cooking with my job search.  Unfortunately, I’m the one who’s cooking.  It’s to be expected in this economy.

And even more so because I have a Ph.D.

We all know that you have to arouse an employer’s hunger when you’re applying for jobs.  Employers seek specific entrees and they often spell out the required and preferred ingredients.

However, things change a little when your education is Piled Higher and Deeper because no one knows what to do with your ingredients.  When I apply for jobs, I present a recipe for myself that should taste good to employers.  Employers, in turn, have envisioned their own recipe for a Ph.D. like me.

Therefore, I offer two dueling recipes to you today: theirs (in red) and the one I wish I could submit to employers in its entirety (in blue).

Ingredients:

An extra decade of sitting passively in class.  (This makes the entree stale.)

One year of coursework beyond a Master’s and ten sticks of buttery independent work

Barely one speck of discernable skills

Three heaping tablespoons each of long term planning, research, writing, foreign language, oral communication, teaching, intercultural competence, technology, instructional design, etc.

Fifteen tons of unbearable intellectual snobbery

Five gallons of experience keeping my “snobby” opinions to myself (when I’m not blogging)

Zero personality. None whatsoever.

Zero personality. None whatsoever.

100,000 British Pounds of excessive salary expectations because of the high wages professors make in comparison

Two British Pounds of recognition that many college teachers need food stamps to survive  (Sprinkle with one iota of understanding that a British Pound is not a unit of measurement plus a hint of irony.)

Immeasurable dedication to the major he completed the degree in… because no one finishes the degree otherwise

Too many years of work invested to quit before finishing the degree… even though I had become weary of the whole thing.  Mix that with 250 kilograms of endurance (one kilogram for each page of the dissertation)

27 pints of writing incompetence because he didn’t major in English

A sprinkle of wishes that people knew you don’t have to complete a particular college major to develop the skills it certifies.  For example, one can improve one’s writing by completing a 250-page dissertation and composing written feedback to students, plus emails and classroom materials, etc.

8 liters of slow-paced anti-deadline serum

A half dozen baking sheets of homework, every night, corrected and returned to students plus a dose of rapidly graded tests and essays.  And several lesson plans each week.

Less than a pinch of interest in trying anything new

Solid chocolate block of disgust for the old rinsed under a steady stream of warm eagerness for the new

Teaspoon of concentrated Love Of Old extracted from his insatiable desire to return to the ivory tower

Nothing sour or spicy (because speaking ill of former employers kills your job application)

20,000 packages of bloviating yeast because these educated folk explain everything on and on and on and on and on

20,000 packages of bloviating yeast because people don’t automatically understand how a Ph.D. qualifies me for a job.  Applications don’t rise unless you can connect your qualifications to the position.  If I had a BA in the preferred major, I wouldn’t have to explain and I would probably lack the writing skills to do so.

One million dollars worth of sterling credentials that should have allowed him to find a job anywhere he wanted, plus three cups of laziness

A dozen daily complaints that everyone assumes a Ph.D. makes it easier to get hired… and then they refuse to hire me because of it.  (Sear these on a grill first.)

Cooking Directions:

Place immediately in circular file for all eternity!

Insert behind desk and savor the aroma!

Um… no, that’s not what I meant by “savor the aroma.”  I meant that I would have a positive impact on the people around me.  Yeah, that’s it.

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