Important developmental disappointment

Yesterday I interviewed at the Trauma Center at the Justice Resource Institute, my previous gold standard, #1 choice for post doc fellowship. I had to sell the training director on my goodness of fit given that I did not have a significant research background, and I was so thrilled to get an interview. The fellowship is part clinical, part research. In the end, the training director and I agreed that I had the skills set to interview for the position of Project Coordinator of a new adult neurofeedback study. Limited stats required, organization and initiative essential. So, I flew in the night before and got to spend time with my friend Aurit. I haven't seen her since October 2007, when I went to a conference in Providence. She is bravely fighting breast cancer and she and her husband made the trip up last night to my Brookline hotel room. While we only got to spend a few hours together before I had to go to bed, we packed in more laughter and fun than I've had in a long time.

I was really nervous about this interview. I felt like I snuck in by the skin of my teeth, and felt like I was an underdog in a big way. I also was a little starstruck, because this institute houses the clinicians/researchers that I admire most, and avidly read. I didn't prepare a great deal, which might be good or bad depending how you look at it. I didn't have the energy to prepare. Prepared answers would have gotten taken apart in the actual interviews. In the end, I tried to be as authentic as I could, but I have mixed feelings about the results.

I started interviewing at 10:15 with the director of clinical services. Up front, she acknowledged my research weaknesses. I told her what I did have skills-wise. She gave me an overview of the program, the expectations, and answered my questions. Good rapport, lots of interpersonal cues, reciprocity, all that good stuff. We even touched briefly on clinical experiences, which would be nearly the only time this happened in the day.

At 11:20, I interviewed with Bessel van der Kolk, the head honcho/Grand Poobah of the whole operation. In truth, I revere him. I was forewarned by other applicants that he is "difficult" and tries to "catch you off guard." I was totally pumped. I wanted a chance to interact authentically and engage on a spontaneous level, and felt like the tougher the questions the better. This could only help me leave my competitors in the dust! Leave the prepared script in the waiting room! "Bessel" (I could not call him that in person) was very interpersonally driven, he commented on my energy, change of body language and posture. He asked at one point why my face looked the way it did. I asked him a variety of questions and quizzed him as to why he "hates" Chicago. He acknowledged my un-research focus but also somehow made me feel ok about it. So I owned it, and also owned my passion for my clinical work. He told me it was much more important to have passion and expertise in the clinical domain than the research one. He doesn't have a vision for where his institute is going (I asked), because it is solely dependent on the "passion" of the people in it at the time. Sidebar: I had heard he has a penchant for starting pet projects and handing off hare-brained ideas to colleagues. This seems to be true, but his hare-brained ideas are usually quite brilliant. I later learned that there isn't much mechanism for regulating the overworked-ness of the system/institute. People just work harder and try to think longer and chrun out more.

I started to silently question what I was doing here. On the other hand, this particular interview was the most fun I had, and I have no idea how I was received by the faculty. The time flew by with Dr. van der Kolk, but then it was time for my third and final interview of the day. The training director and executive director met me in a tiny office, and I started to get really warm. The executive director came late, and seemed uninterested. In fact, it seemed like an inconvenience to be interviewing me altogether. Both interviewers had flat affect, and started right in on 1. where else I had applied to post doc (this question bothered me and I wish I had asked them why they wanted to know), 2. what excites me about working with them and 3. what makes me think I can handle the research focus. The most affect I got out of them was when I focused on my clinical experiences. I realized right then and there how little anyone had asked me about my therapy experience. Everyone acknowledged that I was well-qualified in that regard, and then moved right ahead to the research deficit.

I didn't feel like I sold myself well. I don't think I even did my actual research skills justice. I will never try to apply for a position with a strong research component ever again. It's a door I need to close because its just not me. I'm a scholar, I'm a thinker, I like to write. But I am not a researcher. And I can be a totally rad psychologist that doesn't do research. This realization (as I was still sitting in the interview) comforted me immensely, and also made me want to flee the premises. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to sell myself on the phone to get the interview, but I guess I wouldn't have known whether or not the position was right.

So anyway, then I was released, and returned to the conference room for lunch with the current fellows and other applicants. The forum was open to ask questions. I learned the following things:

1. You get two weeks of vacation.

2. You work 60 hours a week. I sensed this might be lowballed.

3. People do not have a balance of personal/professional. It's all professional, all the time.

4. It's best to live nearby because of the hours/demands on your time. Snacks are foodstuffs are kept in the tiny kitchen downstairs because its so frequent that you don't have time to leave the building to eat.

5. The clinical work and the clients are everybody's favorite aspect of the fellowship.

6. My current training site is pretty freaking awesome.



I frankly was discouraged at how overworked everybody was. The fellows weren't happy people. They were tired, and caught in a web of cognitive dissonance. They also have 1.5 years left of indentured servitude. I decided it was time for me to leave. But social mores told me I couldn't yet so I tried to maintain my interest until the tour was over. I was the girl who asked the questions about vacation time and the rest of the applicants nodded and murmured "oh yeah, good question" in response. I was discouraged by how much I had built up this fellowship in my head, and how inadequate I had started to feel about myself in those few hours. I don't think they dug me, and honestly I'm not used to that feeling. I think that in general I have been really good about applying for jobs/colleges/programs that are a good fit for me, thus I have generally received a warm reception. But I felt in over my head. In the end, that was ok. I realized that this fellowship year is really about goodness of fit. I'm glad that I got to meet Dr. van der Kolk, and I'm proud of how authentically I interacted with him. I was most proud of that Diana, probably moreso than the other Dianas that got interviewed. The fact that he was impressed by my clinical work was enough- I don't have to work for him for 2+ years to enjoy that sense of validation!

I scurried back to my hotel, tears flowing, and called my dad. I felt disappointed and emotional and overwhelmed by the experience, and the paradigm shift. The schema of "this is the best training site thus I must have it regardless" has now been cast out of my world. I wasn't a good fit and feel fairly certain they will not be beating down my door to extend me an offer.

I have done little else but think about my experience in Brookline since I got on the T to go to the airport. I felt like I was gone for four days, when in truth it was just a little more than 24 hours. I have settled on the dialectic: the interview was both an extremely good and an extremely negative experience for me, and both valences existed at the same time. The achievement part of me feels badly that I couldn't charm and prove and impress. The sane, self-aware part of me feels really affirmed in my strengths, and the dedication I have to finding the right fellowship for me, regardless of who is in charge of it.

I had a lot of fans rooting for me. When I came into work this morning to discharge my Chinese patient (at long last-- the Shanghai Express has officially rolled out), my friend Shawn popped right out of his office to inquire about the interview. The first thing out of my mouth was, "I hated it." And that was actually sadly, and wonderfully, true.