"We've got to get out of this place
If it's the last thing we ever do!"

“Debs, we’ve got to go somewhere. ORNL is hemorrhaging and all our friends are deserting the ship. I don’t want to be the last one here.”

Al had a point. Driving around Oak Ridge in 1996, it was hard NOT to notice the “For Sale” signs adorning every third yard.

Al and I arrived at Oak Ridge National Laboratory in 1983 when the labs were doing very well. However, by 1996, ORNL’s funding seemed uncertain. The support for my Department of Energy projects was stable but other areas of the lab were definitely hurting. Al’s projects tended to be more varied and were supported by multiple funding agencies; he was not in any immediate danger of running out of work either. Still, the future seemed tenuous.

We developed a plan. We would both start looking for jobs. The idea was that when either of us got an offer, we’d decide if it seemed like a good fit for the family. A “good fit” required that the other person would have a high likelihood of finding meaningful work and that the community would provide a good environment to raise our two kids. I had a bit of an advantage in this plan; database administrators were in much higher demand and had more flexibility than research chemists. So, it was likely that my next position would be the impetus for any move.

We also agreed on a policy of “no-fault decision making.” If we made a move that didn’t work out, we would not point fingers and ascribe blame. We would just figure out how to move forward.

We both began searching for new opportunities. I looked for academic positions. The first year, I prepared application packages for research intensive universities, which made sense given my 15 years of research at ORNL. It was a path chosen by many.

In many ways, my position at ORNL was similar to that of a faculty member at a research university, although the faculty roles were probably more difficult as the national labs did have a natural advantage in obtaining federal funding. Either way there was a lot of grant writing and a lot of lab work, culminating in a lot of journal articles and a lot of conference presentations. Of course, faculty members had the additional responsibilities of teaching, and while I had mentored a few undergraduate and graduate students at ORNL, those experiences paled compared to the demands on full time professors.

In addition to our concerns about our futures in Oak Ridge, I had become somewhat unhappy with my job. The science was interesting, but the day-to-day lab work had become tedious. Each morning, I walked down the main corridor of 4500-N, through the library, greeted the head librarian, and thought “Here I go– off to my sensory deprivation chamber again.” I felt that my work was not having much impact; I estimated (generously) that a couple dozen people actually read my articles. I was doing what was expected of me, and doing it well enough, but I was certainly not setting the scientific world on fire. I had not solved all of the issues in heterogeneous catalysis—or even one of them, if I am honest. Of course, was making incremental progress but those increments seemed pretty small.

I decided to abort my faculty search that year. If I wanted a research intensive position, I already had one. Why would I disrupt the life of my family just for a different address?

While I was pondering my options, Al was busy seeking opportunities of his own. He received an interesting offer from AT&T wireless just outside of Seattle and I thought it sounded great. Seattle! What could be better? He, however, was put off by the frenzied workplace environment during his interview. In one-on-one interviews with his potential colleagues, the phones were constantly ringing, fires needed to be put out immediately, people seemed stressed and unhappy. Indeed, the interview with his future boss had been canceled due to some imminent crisis. Ultimately, despite some significant recruiting, he declined the offer.

So we were stuck. “Screwed down for life,” as Al frequently said.

In the next academic cycle, I took a brash and bold step and applied only to universities and colleges that were focused on undergraduate education. I remembered my own experience as an undergraduate and how pivotal it was in my life. I thought of the professors at the University of Connecticut who taught me so much — about science of course — but just as importantly convinced a very insecure me that I had potential: Drs. Bailey, Bobbitt, Stock, Zito, Gatta, Maker. I thought of the handful of interns that had worked in my lab at ORNL, and how much I enjoyed teaching them the ins and outs of scientific research. I sent applications to a number of private liberal arts colleges and a few public campuses: Bard, Bowdoin, UW Eau Claire, Saginaw Valley State University, and probably others that I don’t recall. My colleagues thought I was crazy. “Undergraduates? Teaching? You’re nuts!”

I had a pretty good pedigree – 15 years as a research scientist at a federal research lab, a Ph.D. from Cornell, a B.S. summa cum laude from UCONN. I hoped that those credentials would serve me well in my job search and would make up for my glaring lack of teaching experience.

Saginaw Valley State University was the first to call for an interview. I had no intentions whatsoever of accepting a position at SVSU. I suspect that the chemistry department had no intention of hiring me either.

For my part, I had my sights set on at the elite private colleges: the Wobegon Universities, where the faculty are strong, the endowments are good-looking and the students are way above average. The chemistry department was probably looking for someone with at least an iota of teaching experience. I really had none. I had been a TA in freshman chem labs at Cornell, but I had never developed a course, I had never written a syllabus; honestly, it is quite possible that I had never read a syllabus. I had no idea what a rubric was.

I considered it a practice interview. The department probably considered it a nuisance. The Chemistry Department Chair was assigned the task of picking me up at the airport. He told me, “I’ll be the funny looking guy in the red hat.” MBS is a tiny airport and his description was spot on. I arrived at about 9:00 pm on Thursday, January 22, 1998. George asked if I would like to see a bit of the campus that evening.

Absolutely!

The night was cold and dry, a bit of snow on the ground, flurries of snow in the air. George had the good sense to take me to Groening Commons, the beautiful atrium that serves as the lobby for the performing arts theaters. In the darkness of the winter night, it was radiant with light and warmth. My preconceived notions of SVSU as a little rinky-dink place in a cornfield changed immediately. Like many visitors before and after me, I was surprised by all that SVSU had to offer.

The next day, I met the other characters in the Chemistry Department- besides George, there were Art, the Steves, Dave, Bert, Bernie, Pete. No women, but I was used to that.

I was surprised that the Chemistry department was very well-equipped. The facilities were amazing, the campus beautiful. Throughout the day, I was struck by how much people seemed to like each other. I was struck by how much people cared about the university and the students. I was amazed that everyone seemed to know everyone’s name and said hello in the hallways. I felt that instead of visiting a job site, I was a visitor to a close-knit community. I was not yet familiar with “midwestern nice,” but it was on full display.

SVSU wasn’t and isn’t a selective university. The faculty characterized the students as “blue collar kids, often working and taking classes at the same time and making up for academic gaps with a lot of grit and hard work.” I realized that these are the students that I could help the most by opening doors they didn’t even see, much like my professors helped me.

At SVSU, I saw a community that cared deeply about education. A community that profoundly understood how college fundamentally changes students’ lives. A community that was proud of its mission as an institution of opportunity.

I could totally get behind that mission.

But, it was risky. Would Al be able to find a job in Saginaw, MI? Was this worth disrupting a family of four?

The following Monday morning, I had just arrived in my office when my phone rang. It was the Dean of the College of Science, Engineering and Technology, offering me the position of assistant professor of chemistry. With a little prodding by the Vice President for Academic Affairs, the Chemistry department had decided to take a chance on the pedigreed researcher with no teaching experience.

Shit!

Wow!

Tom made the offer, and I noted that the salary was pretty low, essentially the minimum base salary that the faculty contract would allow. I told him that with 15 years of research experience, I was far different from the than the ‘fresh out of grad school’ candidate. He said he would see what he could do.

A couple of hours later, he called back with more salary and an accelerated tenure decision. “Hmmm,” I thought, that was easier than I thought it would be.”

Tom said, “I will need your decision by Wednesday so we can move on to the next candidate if you say no.”

Perhaps emboldened by his quick upgrade to his initial offer, I said, “Ok. If you need the answer by Wednesday, the answer is no. We have 2 kids with a million activities this week and we need to figure out my husband’s job prospects in MI and look into schools for the kids. There is no way I can give you an answer before next Monday.”

Tom paused and said, “Ok. Monday then.”

I fretted and worried. SVSU was not what I had envisioned when I started the search. The students were not all A-plus valedictorians. But I had warmed up to the mission of SVSU- opportunities for students who needed good teaching and encouragement. They too deserved to achieve their dreams and earn their degrees. I saw myself in them.

But we had a 10-year old and a 6-year old who were both doing well in their respective schools. We had a lot of friends. Al had a job, even if we were worried about the long term future of ORNL. And I had a job. Even with the Dean’s increase, my salary would be a lot lower. Was I really willing to take a big pay cut? How would that affect the kids college plans down the road? Why was I being so selfish? Why would I fix what wasn’t even broken? I struggled. No fault-decision making aside, I just couldn’t do it.

All through the week and over the weekend, I tried to convince myself that I would not take the job, that I would leave well enough alone. Al kept reminding me that I was not enjoying my work. He kept reminding me of all the for-sale signs in town. He kept singing the Animals’ 1965 hit:

“We’ve got to get out of this place / if it’s the last thing we ever do.”

I was not convinced.

Monday came and I avoided calling SVSU. Late in the afternoon, Al appeared in my office and said, “Have you called yet?”

“No.”

“I think you should call now and I think you should say yes.”

“But what will you do? What about Eric and Ellen? I don’t want to mess up their lives.”

“Debsy, how many times did we move when we were growing up? You and I turned out fine. One move for our kids won’t be a big deal And, I will find something. You know that. Saginaw is big enough that I’ll have some good opportunities.”

“Our friends and the kids’ friends are all here.”

“We’ll make new friends and we can visit Oak Ridge. It’s not that far.”

“But I love our house.”

“Saginaw has houses.”

“But it is selfish.”

“Debs, I want to do what I can to give you a happy life. I think you will be happier at SVSU. I can hear it in your voice when you talk about it. We’ll make it work.”

With tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, I said, “Ok. I’ll call now.”

He left my office and I called the dean to accept the offer.

Once settled in our new surroundings, I was amazed at how quickly our roots grew in the fertile soil of the Midwest. I am amazed at the opportunities I have been given at the university. I have seen students grow, learn, thrive and exceed their own expectations. I have seen myself grow, learn, thrive and exceed my own expectations.

And, yes, I have developed many courses, written many syllabi, and I understand how rubrics work!

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If only I had known *

If only I had known how much you love me
I could have stopped fighting you for it
I wouldn’t have demanded it of you
I wouldn’t have insisted that you prove it to me.

You have been trying to tell me for years,
But I couldn’t hear you.

I was too afraid that someday
                   (maybe when the kids are grown)
you’d tell me the truth,
that I really am a Bitch
                     (with a capital B!)
and that you’ve had enough of me.

I was so afraid
that I might have made that happen
just that way.

The miracle is that I now know
just how much you do love me.

I can hear you, loud and clear.

I don’t understand love,
But I’ll take it just the same.

*written as we were preparing to leave Oak Ridge in 1998

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