Don't Simply Feed Yourself if You Want to Grow
Growing Your Academic Career Without Withering Your Soul
At the beginning of the year, I discovered that my office plants were dying.
Sadly, one of the plants looked like someone had tried to burn the leaves. Another plant was droopy and sad. I concluded that it was probably a reaction to being overexposed to direct sunlight through my office window.
Originally, I had their success all planned out.
I had repositioned the three plants near my office window so that they would get more sunlight and grow faster. After spending five days away from the office while I attended The Association of American Law Schools annual conference for law professors, I was relieved to discover that they were still alive, though definitely in need of a boost.
Nothing a little water and sun wouldn’t fix.
So, I poured in a bunch of water and repositioned the plants closer to the window. A few days went by as I juggled committee meetings, class preparation, article revisions, and helping my three young children with school, bath time, and reading in the evenings—my oldest is in first grade.
I neglected the plants, thinking they were thriving because they appeared green and healthy enough. But over time, the soil dried up, the leaves began to wither, and a few stems started to die.
In a way, the tenure track can feel the same.
We feed ourselves with work, deadlines, and expectations, thinking we’re growing, when in reality, we’re draining our vitality.
We sometimes fail to see that in our pursuit of success, we’re actually harming our well-being, not nourishing it.
Nourishing Creativity and Growth in Academia
We believe we understand the concept of feeding our careers to grow.
We know this is not just about producing scholarly publications, although publishing in high-impact journals is certainly important. We all need certain things to help us grow professionally, intellectually, and emotionally.
The problem is that sometimes the academic nourishment we feed ourselves is not really that good. Other times, even when our scholarly pursuits are enriching, after being exposed to the academic world for too long, we forget to recharge and eventually get burned.
This semester I have been reading a lot more fiction than I usually do, trying to reignite my creativity after years of ‘baking in the sun’ of service commitments, teaching obligations, and traditional academic publishing.
It’s not that I didn’t want to grow as a scholar. I simply grew content with going with the flow of teaching, grading, committee work, and traditional research, not necessarily trying to grow at my maximum potential by fully embracing my interdisciplinary and creative writing interests.
I guess sometimes focusing too much on checking all the traditional boxes—i.e., service, teaching, research, and publishing—can limit your creativity and prevent you from realizing the full impact of your work.
Between driving my kids to and from school and daycare each day, preparing lectures, and trying to meet manuscript deadlines, I am beginning to draw connections between things that I previously thought were disparate. I am discovering insights where in the past, I would have simply found amusement.
I am learning lessons about what truly inspires growth in academia.
Before we go further, a quick reality check:
If you’ve ever felt like your career isn’t getting the attention it deserves, you’re not alone. Like a plant that looks healthy but isn’t properly nourished, your work might not be getting the care it needs to truly thrive.
At The Tenure Track, we don’t just talk about research and writing. We nurture the roots of effective scholarship, helping you publish with purpose. It’s about working smarter, ensuring your research gets read, cited, and engaged with.
Ready to help your ideas grow? Subscribe to The Tenure Track for insights and strategies to nurture your scholarship, build your community, and make a lasting impact.
Don’t Feed the Ego’s Obsession with Academic Status
A few years ago, I read The Power of Intention: Learning to Co-create Your World Your Way by Dr. Wayne Dyer. In his bestselling book, Dr. Dyer describes “intention” as an energy force in the universe that we can tap into to inspire creativity and prosperity.
Throughout the book, he also explains that the thoughts and ideas we feed ourselves have a huge impact on how we see our professional lives and ultimately, how we respond to the university environment around us.
Many of us on the tenure track struggle with the temptation to feed our ego, that part of ourselves that focuses on the fleeting academic pleasures linked to academia’s overwhelming elitism—things like citation counts, prestigious conference invitations, grant funding, fancy journal publications, and departmental status—rather than our deeper purpose and connection to the pursuit of knowledge.
The problem with feeding your academic ego, which glorifies self-importance, is that it can lead to a focus on the things that we think are missing or lacking in our CV. And this can become dangerous when trying to balance research with family life.
As Dr. Dyer says,
“If we focus on what’s ugly, we attract more ugliness into our thoughts and then into our emotions and ultimately into our lives.”
The Fruitless Pursuit of Academic Validation
I have learned that feeding the ego in our elitist profession can be a fruitless pursuit anyway. In my own experience, even after publishing in top journals (multiple times over) and earning teaching and service awards (locally and nationally), some academics still think I am not qualified to be their colleague.
So much for meritocracy.
But I’m learning to accept that trying to please everyone is not only unnecessary, but also toxic in the grand scheme of things.
Dr. Dyer suggests,
“If you become what you think about, and what you think about is getting what you want, then you’ll stay in a state of wanting.”
Rather than obsessing over that fancy publication you’re still chasing while your children need help with their school assignments, focus on manifesting your intellectual contributions through the gifts you already have inside.
Dyer suggests that our imagination is a connection to the Spirit and our inner speech is a reflection of our imagination.
What ideas and thoughts are you feeding yourself during those late nights in your office?
Fall In Love with Academic Purpose
We have all heard the saying—find your purpose to be happy in academia.
But at least for me, with three young children at home and committee and teaching work piling up, the tricky part is figuring out what exactly our scholarly purpose is and how it translates into a sustainable career and family life.
Dr. Dyer has this to say about finding our purpose:
“It’s not something you find; it’s how you live your life serving others, and bringing purpose to everything you do.”
This is comforting because all we have to do is bring purpose to everything we do—whether that’s conducting research, mentoring students, attending a child’s school play, or watering those neglected office plants.
What does it mean to bring purpose somewhere?
I won’t digress into a philosophical debate, but assuming we all believe in a higher purpose from which we all stem, one could argue that the pursuit of knowledge in its infinite form is the ultimate embodiment of purpose.
We were all drawn to academia because it resonated with a deep, inherent sense of purpose—something that speaks to who we are at our core. Each of us carries a piece of that purpose within us, and it infuses the work we do.
Therefore, our research is never pointless or aimless, even if it doesn’t always align with the conventional expectations of others. In fact, the very fact that our approaches may not fit neatly into predefined boxes is a testament to the richness and diversity of thought we bring to the academic world. And that alone is a powerful and necessary contribution to any academic environment.
It’s not a flaw to be misunderstood or difficult to categorize.
Rather, it’s a reflection of the unique perspective we offer. Our distinctive contributions to the life of the mind are valuable, worthy of recognition, and worthy of praise precisely because they challenge the norm and push conventional boundaries. Our individual journeys, though they may look different, are just as meaningful and impactful in their own right.
T.D. Jakes, in a discussion about his book Instinct, describes this connection to our calling by saying,
“Understanding that you are prewired is like praise to the manufacturer.”
We all have academic purpose within us because we were created to fulfill it. How do we manifest that purpose in our teaching, research, and family life?
Ralph Waldo Emerson said,
“Love is our highest word and the synonym for God.”
Perhaps, through love of our discipline and our students, we can manifest our purpose in our daily academic lives, while still having energy left for bath time and bedtime stories.
Dr. Dyer seems to agree, noting,
“If you don’t feel in love, you don’t feel the truth, and your truth is all wrapped up in your connection to Spirit.”
In short, do the research you love and in everything you teach, try to exude love. If you don’t love what you research, perhaps it is an indication that you are not expressing the piece of your academic purpose that resides within you. Just as I need to love and care for my office plants properly, not just when I remember between department meetings.
To be sure, there is power in clarity as you are building a scholarly agenda and identifying how best to pursue your mission and vision.
But don’t lose sight of the fact that a well-crafted and tightly constructed scholarly agenda that neatly fits into academia’s preordained box may be more harmful than you think when it’s not a genuine expression of the purpose that resides within you, when it is not an honest reflection of your truth, of your love.
Give your Academic Life Away in Service to Others
Gandhi once said,
“To give one’s heart is to give all.”
It’s easy to become overwhelmed and even stressed about all of the options you have to serve others in academia—departmental committees, faculty governance, professional organizations, community outreach, student mentoring, and of course, being present for your family.
There are many service paths one can pursue where they can help others and do so with great love. What matters is that you make the most of the opportunities that come your way and live in gratitude for having both a meaningful career and loving family and friends.
Dr. Dyer says,
“Stress and anxiety are choices that we make to process events, rather than entities that are waiting to invade our lives.”
Choose gratitude and joy, appreciating the awareness that there is a special purpose residing within your research, even if the impact factor doesn’t reflect it yet or your tenure case isn’t as strong as you’d like or colleagues just don’t seem to understand why they can’t place you in their comfortable box.
Pray that they one day they get it, and loosen up a bit too.
In the mean time, as I juggle faculty meetings, research deadlines, and getting three young children through their morning and evening routines, I’m learning to appreciate that balance doesn’t mean perfection.
Love yourself and fill yourself with academic curiosity so that you can give away the best version of your scholarly purpose that resides within you.
Just like my office plants need the right balance of sun and water, not too much of either, my academic career and family life need the right balance of attention. And sometimes, that means accepting that some leaves might get a little crispy along the way.
What will you nurture today?
As you move forward in your academic journey, I invite you to reflect on which aspects of your professional and personal life need more attention right now.
Which plants in your office—or areas of your career—are flourishing, and which ones are withering from neglect or overexposure?
What parts of your scholarly agenda truly reflect your purpose and passion rather than academia’s predefined boxes?
Perhaps it’s time to reposition some of your energy and attention, just as I did with my plants—though hopefully with better results!
Take a moment this week to consider what truly nourishes your academic soul and how you can bring more of that into your daily work while still honoring your commitments to family, students, and yourself.
And yes, even those office plants.
Becoming Full,
P.S. As always, thank you for reading this week’s issue of The Tenure Track. If you found this article helpful, I encourage you to share it with a colleague or friend who might benefit from these insights. Together, let’s continue to build a supportive and creative academic community.
Have you considered that there is more to a tenure case than your publications and awards? More curiosity and self-reflection on why others may not be interested in moving your tenure case forward would likely do your career good