Wilson Okello, Ph.D., IRT ’08, ’14 is a tenured professor at Pennsylvania State University.
To linger, or tarry, in my work has allowed me to think otherwise – to consider more deeply what I am doing and why. Slowing down, for me, has been an invitation to grapple with the entirety of my relationship to my subject matter, to academia, and with it: precarity, terror, refusals, hopes, rebellions, and dreams.
In this moment of shifting national and state policies – policies that call into question how we know and remember, how we live and be – pursuing lines of inquiry that seek to lift the collective “we” higher are often met with suspicion and ire. It takes work to remember, and resolve to do so intently. My hope is that we will remember the way water remembers, as the ancestor Toni Morrison reminded us – always trying to “get back” to valleys, banks, light, and the route of “our original place.”
If our work is to be answerable, where answerability denotes the responsibilities of speakers and listeners to be ethical witnesses, then in the quietude of slowness, one can listen (again and again) to the worlds unfolding on multiple frequencies. In the labor of slowness, we can remember. And I want so much for you to remember—those who started the journey with you, those who recognize your voice, your laughter, and your spirit.
I hope your attention and energy remain directed toward that which is worthy of them—now, in pursuit of tenure, upon earning it, and always.
Across my journey, I have tried to be clear–though clarity itself is a process–about my contributions so as not to be seduced by reward structures, by the prevailing self-interest and politics that prioritize “making it.” I often think about what it means for me to continuously (choose to) be here. And if I remain, to what end? To whom will it matter that I was here?
There is real pressure, external and otherwise. But there is also a pressure we take on, hold, and refuse to release – a pressure that serves only to reinscribe questions of enoughness.
Tarry. Linger. Slow down, so as not to lose yourself in the pursuit of doing a work of consequence.
Omar Galárraga, Ph.D., IRT ’98 is a tenured professor at Brown University.
My journey through academia has been a series of fortunate events. One of the most pivotal happened the morning I ran into my Honors English professor from undergrad. He encouraged me to apply to the Institute for Recruitment of Teachers (IRT), a program designed to increase diversity in academia. I became an IRT associate, which led to acceptances at several graduate programs and, eventually, a Ph.D. in 2006.
Once I entered academia, I didn’t have many role models. My parents weren’t academics, and while one uncle had earned a Ph.D.—the first in our family—his advice was simple: “Publish as much as you can, and in the best journals you can.” While that was good advice, there was so much more I wished I had known as I navigated the often-perilous waters of a tenure-track position. Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to have many generous people help me along the way. I’m grateful to them all, and here I summarize some of the best advice I received, both explicitly and implicitly.
Prioritize Your Research
Early in my academic career, I was overextended and unfocused. I realized I needed a different approach. I remembered how one of my graduate school advisors would work on research from home in the mornings and then come into the office for administrative tasks in the afternoons. I decided to try and replicate that model.
I became strict about not opening my email before 11:00 AM. This practice allowed me to concentrate on my research for a few hours in the morning without being distracted by requests from colleagues, bosses, and students. Building a strong research agenda requires your best energy, and dividing that focus between emails and other administrative tasks is counterproductive. The most important lesson I learned was to reserve the best hours of the day for my most important work.
The most important lesson I learned was to reserve the best hours of the day for my most important work.
Be a “Team Player” (Within Reason)
Department chairs and other academic leaders will ask you to do a lot of service for the department and university. While you do have to do some of it, you don’t have to do it all. Be intentional about which committees you agree to serve on.
I remember a colleague’s advice: “You should say NO to most things; ‘no’ should be your default.” You should only be persuaded otherwise if the service will genuinely help you. Early on, I served on only one university-level committee. Given my interest in global issues, I agreed to join the university-wide Fulbright scholars selection committee. This work was hard but very useful. I met other faculty members with a Global-South focus, interviewed bright student applicants, and heard about intriguing places and ideas—all while providing meaningful service to the university.
Seek Mentors and Sponsors
When I started as a junior tenure-track assistant professor, I was eager to teach any class and work with almost any colleague or student. It was fun, but it wasn’t strategic.
Fortunately, my university assigned me a senior faculty mentor from an underrepresented minority group who was outside my department and quite successful. We met once per semester for lunch and reviewed my CV, classes, projects, publications, and grants. His most useful recommendation was simple: “Look at your calendar and make sure it’s not very busy: two or three things per day at the most. You need time to think, to write, to do your experiments.”
Senior mentors within my own department were also invaluable. They protected me. When a required class I was asked to teach was not popular and I didn’t get stellar reviews, they quickly asked my chair to pull me out of it. When I was ambivalent about taking my junior sabbatical, due to my department’s concerns about the teaching load, a senior mentor strongly advised, “Take it! Make sure you get all the ducks in a row!” He meant I should use the extra semester to finalize any last publications and polish all the documents in my dossier.
Navigate the Unwritten Rules
My department had a faculty handbook, but there were many unwritten rules I was not aware of. While some parameters were clear—for example, I was not expected to publish a book—others were not, such as when and how soon I needed to transition from first to senior author on scientific papers.
Some rules were obscure and context-dependent. I asked a mentor, who had served as chair before, about the balance between quality and quantity for journal articles, and he provided some clarity: “Both are needed. An article in a very high-impact journal is equivalent to a few articles in lesser journals.” Different departments and chairs may have different expectations. It’s best to ask your chair and senior faculty members about these things ahead of time rather than after the fact. In some fields, an alternative path is a “team science” approach, which may benefit certain researchers, particularly methodologists.
Build a Support Network
Early on, I felt isolated and somewhat lost as a junior professor. Eventually, I discovered a faculty-of-color network at my institution. This group was incredibly helpful in navigating the hurdles of the tenure process. Although colleagues from different departments faced unique issues, it was an excellent way to feel connected and bond with other junior faculty members from underrepresented groups. It was inspiring to celebrate each small accomplishment together.
Having access to this network was life-changing; I finally felt like I was not alone. I made sure to attend all the meetings and listened carefully to the advice from leaders across the institution. I understood that the final tenure decision was made at the university level, after my department’s backing, so I needed to make sure my dossier spoke to a wide audience. Most importantly, I learned from the example of others that just because I am Latino, I am not expected to be the sole advisor for all LatinX students, nor am I required to serve on every diversity and inclusion committee.
Institute for Recruitment of Teachers 