Go West, Young Man

Checking in from Colorado with the road that lies ahead

“Jason, go and be at peace.”

Those were the words offered by my friend and de facto academic (and sometimes, life) advisor, Andrew Frank. I’d been weighing the job with the Forest Service versus a couple of academic jobs—each of which had their pros and cons. I ultimately decided on Colorado and with the help of many of you, settled in Pueblo about two months ago. I’ve been meaning to write this in the hours and days and weeks since, but found that the sheer thought of what I’m about to share with you filled me with anxiety and dread. But as they say in Puerto Rico, what kills you doesn’t make you fat. I’m hoping that what follows makes sense to some of you, and maybe me as well.

Let’s back up to early summer. May, if you will. I needed a job. I was doing some contract work with a company called Kituwah, LLC, with whom I worked with prior. However, it wasn’t permanent and it wasn’t full-time, meaning that I’d been eating into my savings since my contract with Seminole Heritage Services ended in January. I’d known that was coming and had attempted to find work as a traditional academic at universities. I’d had some luck, made it to the on campus stage of the interview process at a couple schools but for very different reasons, had horrible experiences at both. I’ll talk more about the hiring process for new PhDs in a later post, but for now, know that that post will be called The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. Needless to say, I didn’t get those positions.

What I did have in front of me were two options— a visiting assistant professorship at the University of South Florida and a visiting assistant professorship at Florida Atlantic University. For those of you unfamiliar with these terms, lemme ‘splain them to you. Typically, when a new Ph.D. (as I was—mine was awarded in April 2022) finishes their time at a university they go on to a Visiting Assistant Professorship. This is kind of like residency for new medical doctors. You go to a new school, work for crap pay, get a new line on your CV, and eventually build enough cred to get a job at a university as an Assistant Professor of History.¹ Sometimes, absolute rock stars or people from Ivys are lucky enough to land Assistant Professorships right out of the gate, though that is more and more rare. My academic specialties are in Indigenous and Early Republic history, which have more openings lately than, say European history. I have friends who are absolutely phenomenal but get literally once chance per year to land a gig. It’s that bad, folks. The rest of people who don’t land a VAP or Assistant Professorship have really difficult choices to make about the careers they’ve dreamed of. My heart breaks for these folks. They deserve better.

But this is about me, so, moving on.

I’m gonna give you real numbers here. I’m hoping that this will help shed some light on the process of finding a job and maybe what to expect. I’m also aware that by sharing numbers here I may look like a giant a-hole. I’ll live with the consequences of the latter. South Florida offered 50k per year plus benefits to teach a 4-4 load (four courses per semester). The position was renewable for up to a total of three years. I really liked the faculty and love the area.² Plus, my boys and their mom were relocating to Tampa so I could stay close to them. This was terrific…until you factor the cost of living in the Tampa metro area. I’m a single income household. I’m also middle aged. So affording to live in Tampa on that pay was really tight. The offer also demonstrates the disconnect of pay scales between Visiting Assitant Professors and even Assistant Professors. In this case, we are talking about at least 20k per year, the idea being that VAPs aren’t expected to do research (hogwash). Turning this position down KILLED me. I’ve already lived away from my boys. It’s awful. I didn’t want to do it again. Maybe if I were part of a two-income household or could make concessions like taking on a roommate, I could’ve done it. But I wasn’t and I couldn’t.³

FAU was even more difficult. I’d known the faculty there for a long time—they’d always advocated that I had a scholarly home there. I’ll tell you this: I love those folks. Freaking love them. The gig there offered more money (60k) with a better load (3-3). But I’d have to drive 90 minutes each way 3-4 times per week. I wanted to take this job. Wanted to so badly I could taste it. I think about it every day. They wanted to make it a permanent gig, but couldn’t guarantee it would become available. Plus they’d be required to do a nationwide search all over again. God I wanted this job.

But I am forty-six. I don’t have the options scholars eighteen years my junior have. And after the trauma of the job market in the previous months (post coming soon!), I felt that I could not gamble on anything. Even folks I loved dearly.

At the same time, I’d received an offer to go to work for the Forest Service as the first Tribal Liaison at Pike-San Isabel National Forests & Cimarron and Comanche National Grasslands in Pueblo, Colorado. This job offered better pay and the stability of not having to continously look for a new job every few months. I’d absolutely loved my time serving the Seminole Tribe of Florida, especially when I got to spend time with elders. You could just sit and talk about nothing and everything all at once. It was, aside from being father to my boys, the greatest honor I’d ever had. So the idea of serving other Indigenous communities, albeit in a different capacity, really resonated with me. I’d spoken with the guy who would be my supervisor and he was damn committed that Native voices would be heard and incorporated into the way these spaces were managed. I could be part of that.

But god it was 2,000 miles from the boys.

Two. Thousand. Miles.

And I’d left things in Colorado and sworn that I wouldn’t return. Colorado hurt me. I knew going west meant confronting that.⁴

Choosing between Florida and Colorado and FAU and the Forest Service tore me up. But I chose to come out here with the promise to myself that if it didn’t work out, I’d return to Florida. Robin Mitchell, one of the many angels looking out for me, raised money to help with the move and so many of you helped. I am eternally in your debt. Thank you a million times over.

So how are things? Overall, pretty good. The people at the Forest Service genuinely care about the landscapes and I’ve found that they are eager to learn and incorporate Traditional Ecological Knowledge into the management of these amazing spaces. I’ve had the opportunity already to spend time with Tribal Members from several Tribes and Nations and have been warmly welcomed. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know them and am looking forward to meeting more folks. I’ve spent a lot of time outdoors, either on or off the clock. My thinking is that this is Native land and if I am going to talk to folks about it, by God I owe them the respect to learn as much about it as I possibly can. Lots of work remains.

Pueblo itself is hit and miss. It was a big steel town once upon a time but when the industry collapsed the town did too. A lot of Coloradans talk about it in negative terms—the armpit of Colorado is an expression I’ve heard before. Crime is a real problem. You don’t go east of I-25 here. I’ve heard that nearly every day. There’s no real food scene here. But they do have a cool green chile festival each year. And the people I have met are really nice folks.

But it’s just me and Buster and Edward the Cat here. It gets lonely. I work during the day, take Buster to the dog park, then work on HATM at night. At this point, we’re at about 25 hours per week on HATM. We’ve been getting better at the podcasts. Got some awesome folks to come onboard. I’m still hoping we’ll pick up sponsors at some point. Our intrepid producer Fletcher Powell does all this for free and I feel guilty. But he believes in this, as I do. Something will happen.

I miss the boys. They’ll be out here next month.

And I’m at a point where I wonder who I am academically. Am I still a historian? If so, what kind? Do I do Native history still? I haven’t worked on the book in ages (and God where is the time). Am I a pop culture scholar? In a phrase many of us laugh at—I should probably be writing. And I do miss the classroom. I miss being on a college campus. I’m good in front of students. There was a calling there. Do I try one more time? Would it betray this job if I did? I don’t know the answer to those questions. But I feel at times that I want to at least try one last time.⁵

Oh, there’s a cool brewery here in town that makes good stuff. That’s a positive.

So that’s where I’m at right now. I’m working as hard as I can. I really enjoy the folks I’ve met and it’s an honor to be of service to the Indigenous communities who call these landscapes home. I hope most of all to do right by them. And Historians At The Movies continues to grow. Speaking of which….

---

HATM Podcast

If you’ve been listening in, you’ll know we’ve been having a blast with so many talented scholars talking about history and their favorite movies. We’re actually starting to push the boundaries of HATM, inviting not only historians but journalists like Charlie Pierce and physicians like N.J. Gallegos to come aboard and talk about their favorite films and give their insights.

This week was especially fun because we were able to put Leah Lagrone, Lauren MacIvor Thompson, and Lauren Lassabe Shepherd into a room for the first time and talk about Dirty Dancing. We tackle the memory of the 60s from the 80s, young love, issues of labor and class, dancing, AIDS, the Reagan era, abortion, whether or not Baby and Johnny are still together, and of course, that soundtrack.It’s one of our best pods yet and I have sample below.

You can check out that episode on Apple Podcasts here:

And on Spotify here:

We have a bunch of new episodes scheduled (including some off the wall stuff) so if there is a scholar or film you want on the pod, tag me or them (or both)!

---

HATM LIVE

And of course, there is the Historians At The Movies Podcast LIVE in Denver. On Saturday, November 11th, join me and megasuperstar guest Kathleen Belew at Wynkoop Brewery in Denver as we talk about Red Dawn (1984) in front of a live audience for the first time. This is actually the capstone event of the Society for US Intellectual History Conference and it is absolutely free to attend. Come out, have a brew, and get ready for a good time. It’s gonna be awesome.

---

Alright, that’s enough for now. This update was way too long in coming. Thanks again for all your support. We’ll be back soon.

---

1. Also with crap pay.

2. Seriously, go read Sarah McNamara’s book on Ybor City.

3. This is another disconnect within academia. The academe is simply not built to support new professors who are in their mid-40s or who don’t otherwise have families or savings to help support them. I saw this firsthand before when I won a McNeil Fellowship at the University of Pennsylvania. It’s super prestigious but I had to turn it down because who but the wealthy can survive in Philadelphia on 25k for six months? Certainly not Captain Divorced With Two Kids here.

4. I’d thought about diving in on past and current relationships on this and how all that affected these decisions, but those are not solely my stories to tell. I think most of you know about Colorado and you know what almost killed HATM. So I’m gonna leave that out for now. But pretty much the line of thinking on a personal level was that I desperately needed to clear my head somehow.

5. Also, holy shit do I hate asking for reference letters.