キャリアニュース2020年8月12～20日

Each year, archaeologist Carol Colaninno guides undergraduates through a consequential choice: Where should they go to field school? Every budding U.S. archaeologist must attend one to learn hands-on skills such as excavation, and to have any hope of landing a job or entering grad school for archaeology. The undergrads can choose from hundreds of field schools, many in remote areas. But Colaninno, who teaches at Southern Illinois University, Edwardsville, knows from former students and information passed privately among others in her whisper network that some field schools have a reputation for faculty who sexually harass with impunity. Many schools are also famed for heavy drinking. Traditional field schools foster “the archaeology cowboy mentality … working really hard during the day but playing really hard at night—and drinking a ton,” says Katrina Eichner, an archaeologist at the University of Idaho. If directors of these field schools encourage that atmosphere, she adds, “it dev

The two emails arrived the same early April day. One informed me that I had secured a $3000 grant. Although the dollar value was small, it was a big step toward restarting my research career after a 22-year hiatus. The second email announced that my college had canceled in-person student research for the coming summer because of COVID-19. My newly relaunched research program had abruptly crashed back to Earth. > “If I could … return to research after a 22-year break, I won't let a slowdown stop me now.” Two decades earlier, I had left my postdoc—and research—when my husband landed a tenure-track job at a small liberal arts college in a different state. A few years after our move, I was thrilled when an opportunity arose for me to teach at the college. When people asked whether I missed research, my pat response was that I was happy with my job. But that wasn't the full truth. I always felt an unpleasant pit in my stomach while celebrating my husband's grants and publication succes