On Disclosing Hardships?

This blog post comes from two places - first, the fact I am writing my first cover letter of the job season and second, a series of tweets I sent yesterday that I've been thinking more about. Here are the tweets:

As someone who speaks openly about their own chronic mental illness, who is in a precarious position, in an industry that is often uncompromising and demanding and can do active harm to the mental health and wellbeing of those who are involved in it... YES. https://t.co/I6DQyG0aNk

— Dr Ellie Mackin Roberts (@EllieMackin) January 9, 2019

My fears:
1. That my illnesses will count against me when it comes to getting a job - and perhaps the job after that, and the job after that.
2. That I will be seen as someone who is attention seeking.
3. That I will be seen as someone trying to play a disability card.

— Dr Ellie Mackin Roberts (@EllieMackin) January 9, 2019

That last one is huge, particularly when one is confronted with Disability Confident box on a job application - Tick this box and we'll interview you as long as you fit the criteria!

Um... do I want to do that?

— Dr Ellie Mackin Roberts (@EllieMackin) January 9, 2019

I've had mixed experiences with the Two Ticks/Disability Confident box. Sometimes I've ticked it and sometimes I haven't.

Sometimes I would just like to say, directly, in my application "this is the context of my achievements..."

But then...

— Dr Ellie Mackin Roberts (@EllieMackin) January 9, 2019

How does one say that without sounding like you are making excuses for yourself?

I don't know. I have no answers. I know that it's very likely being open about my #bipolar and #BPD on the internet could be very disastrous for me and my career.

We'll see, I suppose. /end

— Dr Ellie Mackin Roberts (@EllieMackin) January 9, 2019

I have spoken before about my chronic illness, and my finishing my PhD as a single parent, and the hardships that those things brought upon my work, my career progression, my ability to work (effectively) three full time jobs: the one I was paid for (that is, the teaching), the one I had to do in order to get my publications and research in order to get a permanent job, and the one I had to do to ensure the tiny human in my care was... well... cared for. You might notice that this does not account for any time I may have to manage my illness, care for myself, or have any kind of a life that didn't revolve around either the academy or my child.

Several years on from that, I've reached a point where I am exhausted. I have been in various full-time teaching-only roles for the past several years and, if I'm honest, I just want a break from it so I can build up other parts of my CV. No doubt some will say that this is proof that I think I'm too good for teaching or that I don't value or enjoy teaching. In fact, I love teaching and I think it's hugely worthwhile and therein lies my problem. The past few years I have worked above and beyond in order to deliver innovative, engaging classes and this has left me precious little time to get my research and publication on track.

Why do I bring this up, though? Because I want to highlight some very serious issues in the way that permanent academic jobs tend to be won and lost. And, in so many case, it's in research (either not enough of it, or what's there isn't good enough). Teaching is something that is ticked off as experience rather than by quality. This is, I think, demonstrated in the way that teaching and research requirements are articulated in job adverts. So, when I have a limited amount of energy to give, and I want to move toward my goal of a full-time, continuing (i.e. permanent) academic position of course I will, in part, want to stop doing one of the things that's taking so much time and energy. That can't be parenting, and it also can't be research. That's a simple calculation based on my energy levels and my long-term goals. It is not a value judgement on any of the activities I am currently engaged in.

And, of course, this directly links back with mental health and ill-health. Mine, here, is obvious. I have a serious but well managed set of illnesses that demand some work, time, and energy on an ongoing basis. But more generally academia is demonstrably bad for the mental health and well-being of early career academics - whether in teaching-only, research-only, teaching-and-research positions, or are not currently employed in academia (which may occur for a whole host of reasons from being too ill to the simple fact that there are far fewer academic positions than qualified candidates). The mental well-being needs of each of these groups will be different, not because the positions or pressures are different (indeed the pressures are pretty generally something like do all the things) but because people are different.

I assume that my musings on mental wellness and early career academia are not over, but, at least for now, I am going back to my CV and cover letter, trying to get ready for the job season without scrawling across applications in desperation: "I've had a pretty tough time of things and please keep that in mind when judging me!"