New Year, New Job

On moving forward into the next phase of my career

Today is my birthday. I am 46 years old.

As I type this, a dopey but determined stink bug is marching down my bookshelf, then turning and marching right back up. He pauses, suddenly introspective, like many of us as we move from one age to the next, from one year to the next. Then he moves on.

Having a birthday so close to Christmas has sometimes been a small kind of trial. But having a birthday that nearly coincides with the New Year has always felt good and right and energizing to me. I like my birthday to be cold and snowy and bright (check, check, and check this year). I like to be alone for much of the day (check), doing the things I feel like doing (check), not having to talk to anyone after the constant socializing of the past month of parties and dinners and visits and extra church services (check).

Today I have read a bit. I have written a bit (on a brand new project!). And later I may do a bit more of both of those things. Maybe I’ll break out the new watercolors I got for Christmas.

But I paused those activities to write a short post to all of you. You may have noticed (though probably not, because we’re all too busy to notice such things) that I’ve been kind of quiet in this space the past couple months. Beyond the bustle of the holidays, I have had a lot on my mind and I have been in the process of making one of the biggest changes of my life. I keep meaning to tell you all about it, to tell you the whole story, and then the thought of telling the whole story exhausts me. So I’ll give you the short version.

After nearly twenty-four years working for the same company, doing basically the same job for more than twenty of those years, I am moving on. I won’t delve into all the things that coalesced to make me start looking for a new position in a new organization. But changes in leadership and pressure to use AI were foremost among them. Whatever the catalyst, whatever the fuel that fed the fire to make a change, I updated my woefully out-of-date resume and started casually looking for a new challenge.

And I found one.

Starting Tuesday, January 6th, I am the new Editor in Chief of the Historical Society of Michigan’s publications, which include the popular public-facing Michigan History magazine, Chronicle (a magazine exclusively for HSM members), and the Michigan Historical Review, a scholarly journal that comes out annually. I am so excited to take on this new challenge in a medium I dearly love—magazines—and have missed.

Yet, after so long in one position, where I had attained an enviable level of excellence and efficiency, to start something completely new is also a little nerve-racking. For instance, I had to decide just then whether to render it nerve-racking or nerve-wracking. Both are acceptable. The former is the older spelling (which retains the idea of being torn asunder upon the medieval torture device) but the latter might be the spelling you, dear reader, think is correct, so to use the former may seem like I’ve made a mistake, and I’m the Editor in Chief now, so I can’t make those kinds of mistakes! (Are all of my commas in the right place in that last sentence?! ←Also, I shouldn’t have used double punctuation right there. Ack!)

Here’s the thing about new years, new ages, new jobs, new challenges, and new seasons in life: they’re not new for very long. Soon enough, I will be competent in this new position. After that, I’ll be confident. After that, I’ll be excellent again. And as someone who is always trying new artforms and learning new techniques and coming up with new plans for the garden and learning about new plants, I am an old pro at new. I like accomplishing tasks and I like expanding my knowledge and skills. I don’t just want to march back and forth, purposeless, like my stink bug friend (who, incidentally, has disappeared). I want to be going somewhere.

And on January 6th, I will be going to my new office. That’s right! After more than twenty years of working from home, I will be back in an office full-time. I’ve got my lunchbox ready. Wish me luck.