I posted something
on Facebook yesterday that elicited a storm of comments which I tried
to respond to, but there were so many that I believe people didn't
read them all. I felt most friends misinterpreted my post, and rather
than replying to individual comments I will offer a more detailed
explanation here.
Yesterday I signed
my retirement agreement. It was straightforward. My Head of
department asked whether there was any reason to make a case for
extending my employment (we both knew there wasn't, but he was
obliged to ask); whether I needed any post-retirement support from
the department to further develop my career, which we both laughed
at, but again, he had to ask. I stated that I had no intention to
continue teaching or supervising on hourly-paid basis. He informed me
that as Professor Emerita I would keep my university email address
and library privileges. He said that there was only a tiny office
available to discarded professors, and I assured him that I wouldn't
need it. He asked me whether I had any questions. I didn't. Then he
pushed toward me the form where he had written this all down, and
asked me to sign. He had a beautiful fountain pen, the kind my
son-in-law would approve of. I hesitated. I took a deep breath. I
signed. We exchanged a couple of jokes. Then I left his office and
walked over to mine. I got rather emotional.
What I posted on
Facebook was a one-sentence summary of the above: signed the form and
felt emotional. Asked for sympathy from people who had done it and
people who hadn't.
The response was a
total surprise. Most friends thought I was upset and anxious. Some
shared their own or somebody else's experience of retirement saying
that anxiety was normal, but would eventually go away. Some suggested
self-help books and mentioned counselling.
Half of friends
thought I had retired as of yesterday, although I said in my original
post that I still had eighteen months to go. Many asked whether I
really had to retire.
Lots of friends
stated with confidence that I would never “retire” but go on
working as usual, just with more time for my own research, writing
books and articles, attending conferences and delivering guest
lectures.
I was deeply moved
by all kind words from colleagues and students about my contribution
to scholarship and being a role model. I even received some personal
texts and emails from people who mean a lot to me. Thank you,
everyone. It makes such a difference to feel appreciated. After all,
I have spent forty plus years in this area.
However, I need to
clarify some points.
Firstly, as I have
already said, I am not retiring yet for a while. But there is a
procedure that my Head of department had to follow. Cambridge
bureaucratic machinery is slow.
Secondly, yes, I
have to retire. I have no choice. Although it is illegal in the UK to
force people to retire, two employers just don't care two pins. You
can easily guess which. In fact, the Other Place is re-considering
its position, but This Place isn't. I believe historically it was
done to prevent derelict professors sitting on their chairs, physical
and academic, until they dropped dead. It's crucial to open jobs for
younger generations. When I took the job, I knew that it lasted until
a certain date which was not negotiable. (Although at that time I
didn't know it was illegal). Therefore I had prepared for the idea,
and I don't feel upset.
Also I see lots of
retired colleagues around me who are enjoying it.
What I shared on
Facebook was a moment I hadn't anticipated, to which I reacted
unexpectedly strongly. But not in a negative way. I was similarly
emotional (and anxious) when I signed my current contract; I was
emotional as I signed papers when I got married, or when we bought
our house. Isn't it perfectly natural? Looking back at it, I wouldn’t
want to be without this experience. The final moment just before
there is no going back.
As to what I intend
to do with my post-retirement life, since I have been planning it for
a while, I have quite a clear picture of it. I will not go on
as usual. I won't write any more academic books or articles. I think
I have done enough for a lifetime. I received a prestigious
international award for a lifetime achievement thirteen years ago,
and I have done quite a lot since then. I won't go to conferences,
because I don't want to become one of those conference props
inevitably causing irritation. I have been to enough conferences in
the past forty years. I won't offer any “services to the
profession” because there are younger colleagues who can do it
better and need it for their careers. In other words, retirement
means retirement. One friend suggested I could find a job at another
university with a more generous retirement policy, but why? I am
looking forward to my freedom. I feel I have deserved it.
I don't think I will
have problems keeping myself busy. Five years ago I thought that I
would get myself a large dollhouse when I retired, but then I changed
my mind and got it there and then. It is far from finished, and I
have other miniature projects, both ongoing and planned. My goal is
to become a fellow of the International Guild of Miniature Artisans.
You have to be exceptionally good, so it might take some years of
practice.
I will certainly
continue with book binding. I will take cooking classes. I may go
back to pottery and paper-making.
I also want to take
up falconry on a more regular basis. Not sure whether I am prepared
to commit myself to a bird of my own, so I'll see how I feel then.
The first step in falconry is to be able to tie a falconer's knot,
and I am pathetically bad at knots. If I find it too challenging I
can volunteer at a hedgehog rescue.
I still have my
beautiful garden, and unless we are kicked out of the UK after
Brexit, there is a lot I could do. I also want to grow orchids. I
only have three at the moment, but I want get various sorts and to
learn more about them.
Speaking of
learning, I will learn a new language. Some people do crosswords or
sudoku to keep their minds going, but I have never understood the
point. Learning a new language is supposed to be a good exercise for
the brain. Preferably a language radically different from the ones I
know. I am deciding between Hebrew, Japanese and Welsh.
Some Facebook
friends suggested travel, but I am not sure I want to travel. I have
travelled so much, and I am finding the effort of being transported
to the places you want to visit hardly worth the pleasure of being
there. Again, if we are allowed to stay in the UK, there are plenty
of beautiful places I can visit close to home. Although I would like
to walk Camino de Santiago de Compostela. I will need to train
seriously for that. So it will also take some time, both gym and
walking.
I also have a bunch
of grandchildren whom I have neglected so there will hopefully be
opportunities to get to know them better.
If I have any time
left, I will report to headquarters.
Finally, being an
optimist, I say: I may be dead by then, so why worry?
