This week's column will be difficult to write as I am mired in a deep state of depression. It seems my recent application for Director of the Women's Resource Center (WRC) at UNC-Wilmington was rejected just four days after it was submitted. I learned the bad news when I read the following memo from the interim WRC Director:
The university thanks you for your application for the directorship of the Women's Resource Center. The search committee, however, is unable to consider your application because you did not submit a complete applicant package prior to the posted deadline of May 9, 2005 (your c.v. is missing).
Well, it's a good thing Wilmington doesn't have any tall buildings. If so, I would probably jump off one right now, having made such a careless mistake.
What was it that possessed me to assume that the university where I am currently employed has a copy of my c.v. (or curriculum vita) on file? I should have just sent another copy, ignoring the scores of memos we get telling us to eliminate all unnecessary paperwork during the current budgetary crisis. (They never remind us to resume unnecessary paperwork when those periodic crises are over. But we do it anyway.)
Some of my readers may assume that the WRC rejection letter was merely a contrived excuse to deny me a fair shot at the job-based on either my gender, my politics, or my extensive gun collection. Some would even say that such a blatant display of discrimination by our feminists really takes ovaries.
When I got this rejection letter, I was also reminded of the time I served as a search committee chair at UNCW. I could have sworn that the (now former) Human Resources Director had once instructed me and other members of my department on some subtle ways to attract candidates from "historically under-represented populations." For example, I remember that we were encouraged to contact them (but we don't call them "them" because that will offend them) personally if one or more items were missing from the application package.
Since no man has ever been a WRC Director at UNC-Wilmington, I think that makes me a member of one of those "historically under-represented populations." The interim WRC director could have walked all 200 yards from her office to mine to pick up a copy of my curriculum vita. That way she could have (literally) reached out to a member of an "historically under-represented population." Now I'm beginning to think that "historically under-represented population" means black, female, or gay. Unfortunately, I'm not a black lesbian and can't afford the surgery to become one.