Legal Commentary

The Faculty Recruitment Conference--bka the "Meat Market"--is a little less than three weeks away.  Of course, there's a ton of great info about it already on the web.  Nevertheless, I was a candidate recently (two years ago), and I thought I'd pass on a few quick things that either (1) proved invaluable or (2) I wish I'd known.   For whatever it's worth, I'd heard a lot of horror stories, but I actually found the experience--dare I say it--kinda fun.  Appointments committee members are nice and enthusiastic.  The process is exciting.  And you learn a lot.

1.  Get to know the hotel.  I know this is probably the single most common piece of advice, but it would be hard to overemphasize.  The Marriott really is sprawling and counter-intuitive.  It's like that movie Labyrinth, but way less cool (i.e., without the Muppets and David Bowie).  It really can take awhile to get from the top of one tower to the top of another.  It really is worth the time and effort to walk the route you'll take between your first few interviews.  (If memory serves, you can tell which tower your interviews are in by the second digit of each room number, which is unique for each tower).        

 2.  Master the interview modes.  Very roughly, appointment committees operate in three interview modes.  The first is pleasant, informal, non-substantive small-talk.  The second focuses on your actual/potential scholarship (or sometimes teaching or service).  The third is "what questions do you have for us?"  Most interviews cycle through all three modes.  

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say something counter-intuitive: your performance in modes one and three matter more than you'd think.  I'm not denying that the proverbial rubber meets the proverbial road in mode two: it's critically important to be able to discuss your field in an accessible, thoughtful way.  (As you may have read, it helps to come armed with one and five minute mini-job talks for anything you've written). 

But it's grueling on the other side of the table, and so it's worthwhile to let the conversation linger in mode one if that's where you're being guided.  There's a tendency for candidates to try to leap into mode two.  Resist the urge.  Show that you can be engaging even if the subject is the weather, or Mad Men, or high school.  Part of what committee members want to know is what it'll be like to bump into you in the faculty lounge, or have an office next door to yours.  

And mode three can be the deadly ninja.  Needless to say, you need a stable of stock questions that you can ask any school.  But one thing that I now think happens in mode three--but didn't know at the time--is that some schools in areas to which you don't have obvious ties expect you to ask about their city/state/region.  If you don't ask a question that demonstrates genuine curiosity about what it's actually like to live there, you run the risk of seeming disinterested.  And that's a killer.  In retrospect, the common thread among schools that didn't invite me for callbacks wasn't their rank or even how I felt I'd done in modes one and two, but rather whether I'd failed in this regard.   

3.  Roll with it.  Stuff happens.  You might be late, or lose your train of thought, or forget to pack your pants.  (I know the last one sounds far-fetched, but it happened to me during a callback.  I'd worn a ratty pair of "comfort" jeans on the plane and only discovered ten minutes before dinner with faculty members that I'd brought only my suit jacket.  I spent most of the meal trying to rationalize why it wouldn't be weird to ask whether anyone knew a good place near the restaurant to buy pants).  Try to hang in there.  Go easy on yourself.  Good random things happen, too: the unexpected offer, the promising new professional connection.  And the payoff is worth it: law teaching is a great job.          

Best of luck!