I just realised how long it is since I left full-time academic employment, and think it may be useful for me (and maybe for you, dear reader) to think about how it feels now. I did a ‘one year in’ blog post and once I’ve written most of this one, I’ll go back to that and see what (if anything) is different now…
So: definitely ‘retiring’ rather than retirement. I can’t believe how easy it now feels to have given up the Day Job. How did I ever get up in time to reach Milton Keynes even for something as late as a 10 a.m. meeting? How did I ever survive those meetings? … particularly the ones on ‘restructuring’, and even more so in light of the way that things we resisted then, as far as we could, but which were enacted, have subsequently been overturned, making such whole-day meetings an even more obvious waste of energy! How did I ever supervise four PhD students at the same time? How did I cope with the amount of email traffic (some days now, I’m receiving as few as 10 a day)? How did I ever manage to research or write anything beyond a blog post while being in a senior academic role?
It’s still a surprise to see my pension arrive in my bank account each month, although this has been helped by realising that it is ‘deferred wages’. It’s also (still) a surprise to be in the 60+ age bracket, although the discounts on the Senior Railcard more than compensate.
Nevertheless, definitely ‘retiring’. Giving as my initial answer to people who ask ‘What do you do?’ that ‘I’m retired’ felt all wrong, so I now say ‘I took my pension from my main job in 2017 and currently I’m…’ I’ve now finished my hugely enjoyable year as a Visiting Professor at Gustavus Adolphus in Minnesota, where I did more face-to-face teaching than at any time in the previous 6 years at the Open University and worked with some wonderful colleagues and students in their liberal arts curriculum. I miss it very much. I’ve been involved in the delivery of the MOOC I put together on health and wellbeing in the ancient world for four different runs now (unpaid, but there we are). I’ve written a lot on my three blogs, and also had a couple of things published with more in the pipeline. I’ve received lots of invitations to speak at conferences and to general audiences, and turned down far more than I’ve accepted; the principles of selection involve weighing up where it is (so near it’s easy? or somewhere lovely?), what it is (I’m more likely to say ‘yes’ to an event supporting students or early career academics), whether it’s properly reimbursed, and how close the topic is to what I’m working on at the moment. Zero- or near-zero-prep events are also more likely to be accepted! I’m doing my once-every-two-years job leading a tour for Martin Randall Travel next month, and for next January I’ve accepted an invitation to take part in a university’s event for students visiting Athens.
And (hooray!) I’m in the final months of writing my next book, which would have happened sooner were it not for the Gustavus job and the general uncertainties of my caring role. Indeed, I’ve even started conversations about another book I’m interested in producing after this one… As planned, I’ve taken on some reviewing work for the Quality Assurance Agency (more each term, it seems) and continue to find this interesting. I hadn’t planned on taking any more (small) paid jobs, but some great ones have come my way, such as advising a museum on its display boards for a new exhibition.
On the ‘post-retirement’ life, despite not being fully retired (will I ever be?) I’m still loving my over-60s t’ai chi class, and have added a dance exercise class to my regular weekly schedule. I do a fortnightly slot at the local library helping people use computers, and visit someone regularly as part of the home library service. I’m seeing far more films and plays than before I started retiring, reading lots of novels and enjoying being part of a (very well-read!) local fiction book group. I am also on a working group on ‘history’ as part of a Church of England attempt to think about human sexuality and what it means.
Right: and now I’ve been back to see what, if anything, has changed in the past six months. I suppose I’m currently in a slightly better place with regard to caring for my mother; on the one hand, she has more people coming in to play Scrabble with her, so that’s more intellectual stimulation, but on the other hand I’m doing more ironing/cooking for her (but less cleaning as she has someone who does a bit of that). I’m aware that the balance can tip at any time, here. I see that, six months ago, I mentioned the garden: well, it requires very little attention now, and it gives me very great pleasure. I suspect that, six months ago, I had no idea how much time that Church of England working group would take up; for example, there was no hint that next month I’ll be addressing 150 bishops, but hey, why not? If I were still in the Day Job, I couldn’t do any of that, or many of the other things I find challenging and/or enjoyable.
Plus there’s that wonderful retirement thing about not having lots and lots of deadlines of the kind where, if you don’t deliver on time, all your colleagues are adversely affected. Open University module production had deadlines which were very real indeed: a module has to start on the date scheduled, and everything has to be printed or up online months ahead, ready for the course to start. Now, if it’s a lovely day, I can just call it a day off. A day in a library no longer feels wicked, like it’s been stolen from teaching activities. OK, it never should have felt like that, since research was allegedly part of the job, but nevertheless that’s how if felt. If an opportunity comes up, I can embrace it, without worrying about what it will do to the already-stressed schedule, because the schedule is nowhere near as stressed. But I haven’t forgotten how difficult it was to juggle many competing work pressures at the same time, and I remain in awe of those who do this successfully.
I suppose the most difficult thing about retiring/retirement, for an academic, is that – in my case at least – you remain an academic. Researching and writing are just what I do, who I am, even though they don’t define me entirely. Family and friends may not ‘get’ this: ‘But you’re retired, you don’t need to do that!’ or ‘Call this retirement??’ Maybe my need to research and write will change over time: but at the moment, this is still what I do and who I am.
The retiring academic 