Dear ___________ College/University,
This letter is hard, because I've never really thought about what I want from you before. That probably isn't good, so I'm going to try to rise to the occasion.
First off, I suppose I should thank you for taking a chance and hiring me. I was just one more in a sea of eager grad students waving their dissertations in your face trying to show you that I was just a little more interesting than the guy next to me...and you believed me! For that, you have my eternal gratitude. I hope this works out well for us.
I work best under loose structure. My hope is that you'll provide assistant professors with a mentor, a higher-up in their department who can show them the ropes and help us make the transition from being a student to teaching them. [My work deals with the sociological social psychology of identity in the midst of transitions, so I expect that I will feel a little lost during this shift. I would like a professional shoulder to lean on, if possible.] We're going to get along great if I can pick what I want to teach, or at least choose from a list of available options. I would like to design my own syllabuses, or at least have the opportunity to modify established ones. I expect the freedom to come to class as I am, curly fro and all; I don't want to be one of those stuffy old professors who wears a suit every day. Again, my work is on identity: I hope we can find a way to let me be me while still representing you.
I can't tell you how excited I am to have an office. As a student, I was always fascinated by those professors whose offices mysteriously contained just the right book/journal to help you, young grasshopper amidst countless volumes and mountains of paper. There was always something to be inferred by the condition of one's office: the carefully organized shelves professor v. the precarious stacks making the floor a maze professor, the comfy chairs to sit and chat in professor v. the two wooden chairs in front of his/her desk professor. I'm thrilled at the prospect of decorating a place of knowledge, even of having a physical space of knowledge to call my own.
I hope you're the kind of school where professors precept and office hours are widely attended. I want to get to know my students. I want to help them. I'm not sure yet whether I want to be a PowerPoint professor or a chalk-stains-on-my-pants professor, but I want to inspire them. I want to teach an intro class and an advanced one--I want to reel students in the way I "caught the SOC bug" at Princeton, and once they're in I want to make them ask the harder questions. I won't be afraid to ask the harder questions. I hope that's why you hired me.
I hope you're an institution that favors interdisciplinary work. I want to be friends with social psychologists (yes, even though I'm a sociologist!). I want to work for (or even in) your African-American studies department. In your Gender and Sexuality department, too. I don't want to be put in a box; I hate boxes. I hope you're a fairly liberal institution...I don't want to be afraid that I won't get tenure because you're scared of what I have to say. I hope you're not scared of controversy. I hope we serve each other well.
I'm really looking forward to working with you,
Maya
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