Tuesday, May 9, 2023

Journey to retiring: what people ask me

I thought it might be nice to chronicle some of the particular aspects of what it's like to go from being a full-time faculty member to being a retiree, and so here's one peek at the current state of that transition, through the lens of questions that my co-workers have been asking me this past month.

What are you going to do when you go on sabbatical or retire?

This is a really obvious question to ask, and my short answer is "math!"  There's a somewhat longer answer, which involves one or two specific papers, some research with undergraduates, and longer-term projects involving potential books.  I have a couple of other big things that I hope to do, like hone my skills as a rubbish rescue artist, and then later work on organizing family heirloom photos, and learn to do welding.  

And more.  Mostly, though, I've been trying to get to the end of the semester; I figure I'll start thinking more specifically about the future later, once the summer truly arrives.  

I might do a bunch of this, 
but I have a lot of other plans, too!

(Variation on the above) Are you planning to travel?

I guess this is another obvious question, considering how many people suggest this. (No one has asked, "are you going to sit on the front porch and solve crossword puzzles?", or even "are you going to stay up late reading library books?", but the "are you planning to travel?" question is a biggie).

Yes, but with caveats.  One constraint is that as I become increasingly Eco-nutty, I have more and more aversions to taking airplanes, so I'm unlikely to, say, decide to fly to Ye Olde Touriste Spotte just for the heck of it.  I'm hoping that being unconstrained by work will allow me to do more train travel instead of flying to math meetings, but I have to figure that out still.  A second constraint is figuring out a good dog-sitting plan.  (I know there are options; I just haven't figured out which ones will work for us best yet.)   

A third--and very significant--constraint is that my husband and I travel in very different ways.  He flits and jumps at whatever interests him; I have a purpose and a plan that shapes my travel.  Several years ago, for example, he planned a once-in-a-lifetime trip across Russia.  He spent months beforehand telling me about all of his latest itinerary changes and lining up Visas and such.  In the end, he visited 17 countries, none of which was Russia. I'd go bonkers trying to keep up with him, and he'd go stir-crazy on my own more regimented travels. I don't think either one of us (or our marriage) could survive a trip where we spent the whole time trying to synchronize our schedules and itinerary.  My best guess is that our best shot at joint exploration is that I will pick a Task Oriented Thing (like teaching a math class in Rwanda, or visiting a Math Institute or a colleague somewhere), and we'll use my itinerary as the center from which my guy will ping-pong in and out and here and there to his heart's content, so we'll have a shared hub but different modes.  


How are you feeling about your last class? Are you excited? Are you going to get all teary?

I don't do feelings in the same way that other people do, so I don't entirely know how to answer this question.  

Um, no?

I was really glad that our department has started a tradition of clapping professors out on their last class, because ending my last class with, "well, I guess that's the end . . . " would have felt highly anticlimactic.  It was nice to have a Ceremonial Moment to mark that transition, and it was good to share the moment not just with the particular students sitting in the room at the time, but also other students who came back for the event and with my colleagues.  

My students and colleagues decorated the chalkboard.
I loved it!

Wait: are you really going to retire? I didn't see you at the ceremony honoring retirees, so have you changed your mind?

I haven't actually formally submitted my retirement paperwork yet.   Next academic year (July 1, 2023-June 30, 2024), I'm going to be on sabbatical, meaning I'll still get a large fraction of my normal pay and I'll still get medical (etc) benefits, but I won't teach classes or serve on committees.  The usual rule for faculty members is that we're supposed to come back for a full year of normal work after a sabbatical, but I have a special exception: I was granted a sabbatical two years ago, and I postponed it to become an Associate Dean.  I had it written into my contract that therefore my next sabbatical doesn't have the usual come-back-for-a-year requirement.  

So my retirement date isn't official in the paperwork sense, but I'm really not teaching any more, and I'm planning to submit my paperwork later this summer, meaning that June 30, 2024 I won't be officially employed anymore, either.  

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That's all the question/answer mojo I've got for now.  More transition updates will be forthcoming!

3 comments:

  1. Regarding travel: our daughter took the train from St. Paul, MN to Seattle, WA for a writers conference in March and LOVED it. She said the coach was spacious and relaxing. She highly recommends train travel. Wishing you all the best, Mom!

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    1. Thanks! We've just realized that another aspect of train happiness is that if you buy the tickets well in advance, they can be very cheap (for example, in the $27-$30 range for a long trip we're contemplating later this summer). That'd be less than gas, and no sitting in traffic.

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  2. I yearn to travel by train someday but I think it's more glamourous in my mind than it really is. I'd love it if there were dog-friendly train travel options, too. But I'm probably asking too much of American public transit.

    Excellent planning on the sabbatical pre-retirement, that should be a nice way to ease into it.

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Update, somewhere in January

By now, I'm kind of losing track of which day is which . . . ironic, because of spending so much time on and off of train tracks.  So I&...