A Real Professional?

Today, for the first time in a while, I felt like a REAL professional. Now don't get me wrong. I've been a professional for a number of years, clearly working in the field that I have a passion for, even seeing a few successes along the way. But today, two things happened that made me pause and think that perhaps I'm a full-fledged grown up now. 

First, I was taken out to lunch by an administrator...nothing too terribly new here. I've been taken out to lunch before and taken folks out to lunch before. But this one struck me as a little bit different, a little bit more of a glimpse into the world that I will more than likely one day be a part of. We went to the Country Club. Now, don't laugh. I know it wasn't any big deal. But there were sharply dressed golfers here and there. Well-off families and children were swimming in the private pool. The standard apparel for all employees was a navy blazer with gold buttons. Every third car (including the one that escorted me to lunch) was a BMW. And we walked in to a whole slue of "Hello, Mr. Dendy!"s and "How are you today, Mr. Dendy?"s. I felt out of place to say the least. 

I'm not an administrator. I'm not wealthy. I don't golf. But someday I will probably be an administrator. The wealth at this point is questionable (silly economy). But shoot. At some point in my adult life, I'm probably going to have to learn to play golf. How, exactly, did that end up being the affluent professional's game of choice anyway? Perhaps I will set this as one of my first goals after I complete my degree so that I'm not learning in a panic when I'm fifty and applying for my first presidency when I suddenly get invited to play a round as a way to get to know the administrators at a prospective school. And certainly fundraising is impossible without golf, right? Golf outings seem to be the standard in professional fundraising efforts these days.

The other, far less surreal but far more significant REAL professional quantifier happened when I got a phone call from one of my favorite faculty on campus. I answered and she said, "Pack your bags, we're going to Indiana." Of course, I knew what she meant. Our proposal to present at a national conference had been accepted. This is huge first in my career trajectory. Conference presentations typically lead to further invites, potential publication, and some peer notoriety, all of which will become crucial as I work to set myself apart from all the other middle managers out there trying to work their way to the top. A not-so-secret goal of mine is to have at least one article published in a journal prior to completing my dissertation. The reason? If for nothing else, I would revel in the opportunity to cite myself as a source in my own dissertation. Because really, how many people can say they did that? 

After all of the cloud floating that happened today, I was quickly brought back down to earth this evening as I returned to my messy, perhaps-a-teenager-lives-here house, my unmade bed, my piles of laundry, and my list of homework assignments to complete. As much as I felt like a real professional today, I now feel in equal measure like a real adolescent. But the truth is, that most days I live somewhere in between. Content to be one of the younger ones at the table while still taking the opportunity every now and then to command a room's attention as a professional. Leaving the dishes on the counter while still managing to get the bills and loans and mortgage paid. Running around in flip-flops while occasionally donning the one power suit I own. I kind of hope I never lose all of my inner kid style. Can a university president be a bit of a prankster? Are windows-down-stereo-up attitudes permitted from time to time in a professional's world? Perhaps as long as I take time for a round or two of golf...