.
As for Jared, he immediately became the butt of a thousand jokes -- but his faux pas was so hilarious that it also became a beloved part of department folklore. Jared's high spirits made him popular with students, and he was wise enough not to date them, ever. .
By the time Jared's contract was renewed, he'd grown a goatee, and happily announced that he looked forward to becoming an old goat himself. .
In short, Jared and Nelly were good and cheerful department citizens who learned from their mistakes. Russell was annoying, boring, and apparently unteachable. .
Ms. Mentor needn't mention that you can kill your career spectacularly -- through felonies, for instance. Or you can watch it ooze away, as Russell did, because you don't know enough to learn as well as teach. .
Being a little awkward or nave can be charming. Thinking you know it all is unforgivable. .
The wisest listen more than they talk, and learn the rituals. At most first meetings, the department chair welcomes everyone, after which Professor Senior Hothead delivers a demanding, intemperate harangue about low salaries. Then he stops, having given everyone a cathartic experience, and the meeting resumes with introduction of new adjuncts, reminders to sign forms and pick up parking tags, and warnings not to overuse the photocopier. .
Then everyone goes to lunch, sharing pleasantries ("How was your summer?") and griping about the usual suspects. A few days later classes start, and good teachers and researchers and department citizens rarely have the time for another major gripe fest until December. .
"But what can I do about the ones who don't have a clue, and the ones who don't give a damn?" you wail. Ms. Mentor's first piece of advice is to get a mentor -- a senior professor who'll decode the academic enterprise for you, and tell you that words that seem distant and uncaring ("uncollegial," "inappropriate," "not germane") are in fact strong condemnations, not mealy-mouthed euphemisms.