A backward glance from Warmihuañusca Pass, the highest point on the Inca Trail at 13,796 feet. [Photo by Magdalena Barrera]
One of the most challenging aspects of supporting faculty success is the fact that the academy generates an environment of nonstop comparison and racing: How do I measure up to my colleagues? As an undergraduate, you might have a peek at the exam of the student next to you, wondering what grade they received—and seeing it was higher than yours, sunk back into your seat with a disappointed sigh. In grad school, you may have seen someone from your cohort reaching a major milestone ahead of you, and instead of celebrating them, only felt panic: “Why am I not there yet? I’m falling behind!”
Even now, as faculty members, we regularly submit our materials alongside others—whether applying for grants, submitting a publication, or applying for Range Elevation or tenure and promotion—and await the final decision with angst. The eternal questions fill our minds: “Am I good enough? Do my colleagues approve of me? Will I make it to the next level?”
It is challenging to thrive in this context, much less to find joy and remember what inspired us to pursue this career. When we only look ahead, trying to reach the next milestone, the journey is an arduous, never-ending, uphill climb. Our younger selves promised, “I will [fill in a meaningful project or goal] once I finish my degree.” Then when we finished that degree, we said, “I’ll start after I get a tenure-track job,” which then morphed into “once I get tenure,” and then later still, “after I get promoted.” It is exhausting when the horizon of accomplishment is always just beyond our grasp.
When I find myself spinning into this mindset, I reflect on my experience hiking the Inca Trail in 2016. On day two of the trek, hikers face a four-mile long, 4,000 foot climb to the highest point of the trail. When I started out that morning, I looked up with tremendous envy at the people who were approaching the top. I still had so far to go and they were so much higher that they looked like small dots approaching the summit. “How will I manage to get there?” I gasped—in part because the air is so thin at that altitude that I had to catch my breath after every tenth step.
There was nothing I could do but continue my forward slog (climbers on the trail are only allowed to go in one direction, so I literally had no other choice). Hours later and drenched in sweat, I found myself approaching the top of the mountain. I paused to sip some water and it suddenly occurred to me to look back at how far I had come. I thought with pride of the people behind me who must now be envying me and wondering how I had reached this point.
My point here is to ask when is the last time you stopped to reflect on all you have already accomplished to reach the point where you are today? Do you take regular breaks to consider the trials that shaped you, the barriers you navigated, and the growth that happened as a result of your most challenging professional moments? I am encouraging myself, and want to encourage us all, to take time out from the relentless, competitive push forward to pat ourselves on the back and remind ourselves how amazing we are. Let’s do the same for our colleagues, our students, and other important folks in our lives. That recognition is what helps us maintain the energy to keep our eyes on that upcoming goal, whatever it is for each of us, and to know that, as we say in Spanish, "sí se puede," i.e. yes, you can!
Magdalena L. Barrera
Vice Provost for Faculty Success
