stranger in a strange land

the title of this post is a question posed to me by a physics faculty member. this faculty member was on the search committee for a position that i applied to in the physics department. the department that i have been associated with for 8 years. the department in which i obtained a master’s and ph.d. in physics. the department in which i received an award for excellence in graduate teaching. the department in which i scored a 4.6 / 5 on my teaching evaluations. the department in which i have published over 15 peer-reviewed research articles in the past three years (not including papers that I contributed to as a second author), some of which that have been recognized as a notable contribution to the field. the department in which i mentored and advised 6 graduate students. the department in which i have conducted several graduate teaching assistant training workshops and served as a mentor for graduate teaching assistants. the department in which, over the last three years, i have collected data on over 4,000 students’ attitudes and learning gains in introductory, intermediate, and advanced physics courses. the department in which i engaged in cross-disciplinary research to improve students’ learning of physics in the long term. the department in which i facilitated discussions with students about struggle and growth in physics to improve their experiences in introductory physics. the department that i represent when i (not only attend) but contribute talks, posters, and workshops at professional conferences and workshops about teaching and learning in the sciences. the department in which i coordinate, participate in, and advance the improvement of science teaching during weekly faculty learning community lunch discussions and workshops. the department in which i manage a website that provides access to resources about evidence-based teaching approaches.

this is the same department in which the hallways are lined with closed doors. the department in which its members do not acknowledge me in the corridor while i fill my cup with water from the fountain or in the lunch room. the department in which laughter fills the break room over morning coffee for an hour, but goes silent if i enter. this is the department in which students are referred to as “good” and “bad” bacteria. the department that fosters a disdain for physics education research. the department in which education research is practically viewed as a psuedo-science, “voo-doo,” “psychotherapy.” the department in which my credentials have come into question because i hold a bachelor’s degree in education as opposed to physics. the department that, i believe, collectively helped stall my career progress without a shred of guilt. 

no, they didn’t behave when you left. they didn’t even behave when you were present. as part of the interview process, i was asked to present a lecture on an introductory physics electricity topic to members of the search committee and other faculty members. as i stood up to begin my lecture, i couldn’t shake the sight before me - a room full of men. one holding a book on advanced electricity and magnetism for use in a graduate-level course. i felt doomed before i even began. the first equation i wrote on the board was immediately ripped to pieces. questions, which were supposed to be based on an introductory physics student’s understanding but instead mostly focused on the faculty members’ cryptic thoughts, streamed in and stalled my lecture further. many of these faculty have never even taught an introductory physics course, and couldn’t care less about teaching introductory students. and many of these faculty have never spoken to me in person, although we occupy offices on the same shared floor. as the heat of embarrassment crept up my neck, i searched for a friendly face in the room, but found none. being pregnant, i felt somewhat breathless as well. 50 minutes came and went, and still i was unable to finish. i attempted to explain what i would have done to wrap up the lecture had i had more time as they gradually trickled out of the room. my heart sunk as i knew all had not gone as planned. i was then required to participate in one-on-one interview settings with members of the search committee. being drained from the lecture, i did my best talking to them  and discussing their questions. however, i was given no time to go to the restroom or eat lunch. if you have to ask “did they behave?” i think you already know the answer to your question.