the annual review

Now is the time my colleagues and I must write our Faculty Activity Narrative for the calendar year of 2006. I normally dread this task; however, this time around, I'm positively paralyzed by the thought of it. Last year was a very, very bad year for me. The death of my father, and all the circumstances that surrounded it, nearly wrecked me. But I don't think my colleagues know this.

What some of them--the Salary, Promotion, and Tenure committee--will learn, though, is that last year is the first year I didn't get published since being hired. They'll also learn, as they read my narrative, that I have yet to finish revisions on two essays for resubmission. As they finger their way through my file, they'll see that I have no student evaluations for one of the courses I taught last semester. I'll have to write the words: "I forgot."

And I suppose I'll have to write something about the ugly events that transpired among my co-writers and me over the authorship of a textbook we've been working on for over three years. Somehow, I'll have to indicate that the senior colleague decided that the work my peer and I did was more akin to a Research Assistant's, and--with the help of our editor (who corresponded only with senior colleague)--further decided that my peer and I were no longer worthy of having our names on the spine of the book. After working for more than three years--while untenured--on this textbook (which would have only counted toward "Teaching" rather than "Research"), my peer and I will now be relegated to an "Acknowledgments" page and a couple chapters "written with [insert name]." There's a lot more to this story, as they say, but I won't continue here. Question is, how will I narrate this in my annual review and tenure packet (which is due in August)?

And what of my inability to remember last year in any kind of linear or sustained fashion? It's trite, but I must say that the whole year is a blur spliced with sharp images of traumas endured and imagined, as well as anger-filled interactions. I was dazed. I was clumsy. I wasn't mindful of the little things, like responding to emails of returning phone calls. My student evals from spring, summer, and my fall semester's grad seminar were no less positive than usual. But I don't remember teaching. Not really. Not that the Annual Narrative demands that I do. I'm just sayin'.

I don't know what to write. I don't want to look at my date book. I don't want to flex my memory muscles to conjure some sense of what happened last year. I realize now that I spent all of last year trying to forget it. How can I write it?