Short List, Shortchanged
By Eusebio L. Koh

After teaching his Strength of Materials class, Chia Li Kwan went straight to my office to find out the latest from the search committee. I was not in that committee but as a senior professor in my department, I was in touch with what was going on.

"Life is unfair and we have to get used to it...You never met Dr. Jones from Tucson, Arizona who was here for a couple of years but didn't get tenure. He could tell a good joke but he published only one paper and that was his doctoral thesis..."

"Good afternoon, Ernie," Kwan said knocking lightly on the open door. He had known me for about eight years and had started to call me by my first name when I insisted.

"Oh hi! Come in and sit down," I said, "I was going to talk to you. Fix yourself a cup of coffee while I finish this in a minute."

"Can't have coffee. I'll be driving home for supper soon."

"So how's your class? Any bright ones there?"

"I've only twelve students but I've got a couple of smart kids," said Kwan. After some hesitation, he asked, "Any news?"

"Look," I said after putting away the stuff I was writing, "Life is unfair and we have to get used to it. When I came here twenty-two years ago, there were thirty candidates for two positions. You never met Dr. Jones from Tucson, Arizona who was here for a couple of years but didn't get tenure. He could tell a good joke but he published only one paper and that was his doctoral thesis. Jones and I and three others were interviewed. Jones was their first choice. I came in second. I was offered a job on the strength of my research."

"Second? I wonder if they thought your English wasn't good enough. Or that you're a Filipino." I ignored the sarcasm.

Kwan sat down on the empty chair next to my desk. He had an inkling of what was coming. When I said that a Texan from the University of Houston, a Dr. Jane Petrini from New York University and a Dr. F. Bannister from the University of London were being invited for interview and seminar, he stood up and excused himself, "Thanks. I've got to go. Lu Ping is waiting." He didn't wait for the rest of what I had in mind. He had developed an attitude of brusqueness that I found rather irritating.

A month ago, I had a brief encounter at the coffee lounge with our Department Head, Dr. Henry Denson. From out of the blue, Dr. Denson asked me, "Why doesn't Kwan go back to China where he can put his Ph. D. to good use?"

"Good use?" I said, "America is where the action is and Kwan may well become an expert in 'smart materials'. He isn't going back because he had obtained his green card here." The irony was that both Dr. Denson and I were immigrants to America: he from England and I from the Philippines. When I pointed this out, Dr. Denson blushed and left the room in a huff.

Perhaps, Dr. Denson was merely thinking aloud about Kwan returning to the University of Beijing where its graduate programs need an infusion of fresh and enthusiastic faculty. Denson's rise to the headship was marked by his involvement with the University Exchange Program and in particular, he served as a consultant with countries in Asia. He had visited the University of Beijing on his last trip to China and had spent some time with the engineering faculty.

Kwan swallowed hard and left my office quickly with an almost inaudible "'Bye." He walked away with his eyes on the floor and did not return the greeting of one of his students he passed on the hall. He went back to the office he shared with post-docs Gupta and Abubakr. Gupta was eager to know the committee decision because he too was interested in the job. Kwan just shrugged his shoulders in answer to Gupta's query and proceeded to put some stuff in his briefcase. Thinking he was rude to his colleague, he mumbled, "Who knows?" and left. It was the third time he did not make the short list.

Three years ago, when Kwan was completing his doctoral program in mechanical engineering at the University of Aniger, he applied for the assistant professorship that was to start in the new school year. He had passed his comprehensives and defended his Ph. D. thesis quite triumphantly. I remember the external examiner, Dr. John Robinson, complimenting him for his knowledge of composite materials used in the American space program. Kwan was then putting the final touch to his rather substantial dissertation.

The committee felt that Dr. J. Smith, born and raised in the West, would be an ideal man and he did get the job. Kwan, or rather Dr. Kwan now, had been recommended to teach as a term lecturer. He would be paid about half of what he would get as faculty replacement.

For the position that became available, there were over a hundred applicants, half of which would be serious contenders. They had the necessary advanced degrees and a bright research potential in an active area. Kwan made it to the final ten but was just shy of the short list of three to be invited for an interview and a lecture. Times had changed. More graduates were seeking the few academic posts rather than going to industry.

Kwan himself had tried the market in academia, in industry and also in the government to no avail. I must have written dozens and dozens of excellent letters of recommendation for him. There were a couple of bites from the East Coast but they all fizzled out with a polite letter of rejection. I knew because he always came to my office and kept me abreast of any progress or lack of it.

Two years ago, a one-year sabbatical replacement for Dr. Schwartz was advertised and at least sixty applied by the deadline. Kwan, whom I supported for a while as a research associate on pitiable pay, applied too. He and I were confident he would be a shoo-in. But, alas, he came in fourth. The committee felt that Dr. J. Smith, born and raised in the West, would be an ideal man and he did get the job. Kwan, or rather Dr. Kwan now, had been recommended to teach as a term lecturer. He would be paid about half of what he would get as faculty replacement.

This year, a tenure-track position was advertised with specialty just up Kwan's alley. With three research papers published in the last two years and excellent evaluations teaching as a part-time lecturer, he thought this would be his chance. Kwan after all was among the best graduate students that ever graced the halls of our College of Engineering. He was an experienced speaker with a fluent command of the English language that hardly hints at a Chinese accent. (Funny, if he were around twenty some years ago competing for my job, he would have given me a run for my money!) Unfortunately, the search committee did not see fit to include him in the short list again.

***

Little Chia Li was a very bright boy in a small town in China. He was an only child of Doo Hong Kwan and Mei Ling Zu, both teachers at the local grade school. They wanted to have more children but China had imposed the one-child-per-family rule. That was in the seventies.

As a boy, Chia Li had shown flashes of intelligence. At the age of four, he had learned to use the ink brush and pad to write his name and other simple Chinese characters without smudging his shirt. He could count and add two numbers and could sing the national anthem. His parents had made a certain regimen that they all followed. Up at six-thirty. Breakfast at seven. Work at eight. Supper at six. Study at seven. And bedtime was nine-thirty.

When the Kwans biked to their school, Chia Li was left with his maternal grandmother whom he called Oma. The Kwans were lucky to be granted a small two-bedroom house by the government for a small rent. Chia Li slept with Oma at the back room next to the kitchen. Not really bad because the room had a good view of the ping pong table in the backyard where his father played with his neighbor. He could also see the rice fields as well as the rolling hills in the distance.

Chia Li always looked forward to the time after supper because that was when his mother came to play with him and to teach him all sorts of things, singing, hand-painting and even paper folding. He also learned to use the abacus from his father but that came later. They had a black-and-white television set but father decreed that they watched it no more than one hour a night, usually close to bedtime.

At the Kai Min Grade School, it became clear that Chia Li was head and shoulders better than his classmates. He was moved to a grade above but he remained among the top pupils. He was barely ten when he left his hometown to study at the Hunan Middle School. At Hunan, he stayed weekdays with Uncle Doo Ching who was his father's younger brother. On weekends, he went home except when there were soccer games or table tennis tournaments. Chia Li was becoming quite adept at both sports.

In the meantime, as a true scholar he read the research journals at the library and soon he was doing some research work on his own. In due time, he decided to pursue an academic career by first working towards a doctoral degree preferably in America.

Again, Chia Li excelled in six years of middle school and did extremely well at the July Entrance Examinations to study at the University of Beijing. He just turned sixteen when he took up residence at the Student Dormitory in Beijing. Because of his ability with mathematics and science, his parents decided that he should study engineering, the better to get a good job upon finishing. True to form, he outdid everybody and upon graduation, he was hired as an instructor at the University's Institute of Technology.

In China, the teaching profession is a highly esteemed vocation. He began to enjoy the perquisites of a respected university faculty member. He seemed to have found his niche in life. He got married to his college girlfriend and they had a child a year after. In the meantime, as a true scholar he read the research journals at the library and soon he was doing some research work on his own. In due time, he decided to pursue an academic career by first working towards a doctoral degree preferably in America.

***

This is how I got to know him. I usually get a slew of mail daily, some from colleagues, some from students inquiring about possibilities in Aniger. I get some from overseas including several countries in Asia. I particularly encouraged inquiries from the old country, the Philippines. Here was this letter from an engineering instructor in China asking if I could kindly explain why I used a particular stress-strain equation in my paper published in the International Journal of Mechanics. He then enclosed some pages of calculations concluding with the remark "Don't you think this would lead to more accurate and faster results, Dr. Legarda?"

"Well," I told my wife Helen when I got home that day, "Here's this kid from China who thinks he can do better than my recently published paper. Shades of Good Will Hunting, huh?"

"So, did you read his work, Mahal?"

"I skimmed through it."

"And?" Helen was curt and that was one of the things I loved about her. We went way back to our college days at the University of the Philippines. She is now an instructor of mathematics at Aniger.

"He made an assumption that was one of three possible scenarios and I was going to look into it."

"Great! He did the work for you. Isn't that what you had in mind for your next NSF grant application?"

"Hmmm."

I wrote Kwan the next day to acknowledge some of his remarks and to suggest a couple of other directions that he might consider. I enclosed two of my previous papers and one that was to appear in the Quarterly Journal of Rational Mechanics. We had a lively interchange of mail and before long we had put together a research paper to be sent out for publication.

In one of his letters, he indicated a desire to work with me as a doctoral student. "Now, that's an idea!" I thought, "I could use someone as perspicacious and energetic as him." It didn't take long for me to get him a teaching assistantship. And with some support from my own research grant, I was pretty sure he could finish the program in due course.

Kwan arrived in Aniger alone in late November of 1994. North Central California was beautiful in autumn with the white, pink and fading red camellias vying to catch one's attention. The weather was just cool but Kwan found it a bit cold and was grateful he brought a woolen suit. Aniger University was only fifteen minutes by bus from downtown on the south end of Sacramento. It was a land-grant institution established in the fifties to serve the agricultural sector in the West. It was named in honor of its chief benefactor, Miguel Omar Aniger, part Mexican, part Egyptian who made his fortune in wheat products. The seventies saw a boom in the construction of new buildings including the major landmark, the Aniger Memorial Obelisk on the main rotunda, thanks to the Aniger Foundation. (Students, however, had shown anything but respect for the old man by referring to the AMO as the Aniger Male Organ.)

I spent a good part of a semester teaching and talking almost daily with him to improve his oral English. At the same time, I was guiding him into my special field of research. He was an excellent graduate student, often getting the highest mark in each class he enrolled in.

Kwan was awed by the beauty of the campus—the coordinated off-white buildings with beige brick roofs, the palm-tree-lined roads throughout the compound and around the main rotunda, the abundance of roses, camellias and bougainvillea. His arrival was poorly timed though for he had to live off-campus. He found a cheap bachelor suite downtown along the bus-line. He moved to a two-bedroom apartment a year later when his wife and daughter joined him. This was a good move as there were other married graduate students in the building. He also bought a used car.

Although Kwan's written English was excellent, his speech had a very distinctive Chinese accent. I spent a good part of a semester teaching and talking almost daily with him to improve his oral English. At the same time, I was guiding him into my special field of research. He was an excellent graduate student, often getting the highest mark in each class he enrolled in. He was also productive and creative in solving problems. Soon, we had put out three or four research papers with two to appear in reputable journals.

***

In 1998, Kwan received the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Mechanical Engineering. He was all excited about getting an academic position anywhere. He was keen on continuing the research he honed with me. He applied to a number of American and Canadian universities. He wrote to a number of companies and federal departments doing materials research. Later, he wrote to any and all universities, colleges and institutes anywhere that advertised vacant positions in engineering.

I had warned Kwan how tight the market was despite the many ads we saw in the professional journals. It began to dawn on him that he might not find any position despite his excellent record of research and teaching. At one point, I thought that perhaps his name had something to do with it. I even suggested that he legally changed his name to something like "Charlie Cohen", close enough to Chia Li Kwan. He demurred about changing his name because the transcripts of records as well as his joint published papers with me bear his true name. I didn't push it.

The Department of Mechanical Engineering was not all that big. There were three full professors including Dr. Denson and myself, three associate professors, five assistant professors and several instructors and lecturers. There were part-time lecturers but they were not included in staff meetings. As department head, Dr. Denson chaired the meeting to discuss recruiting and teaching loads for the coming academic year. He started the discussion by saying that "Today is a buyer's market and Aniger can afford to be more selective." He went on to suggest that the search committees had the task not only to look into the credentials but also to consider the intangibles.

By intangibles, he meant such things as knowledge of English as a mother tongue and "presentability" meaning the appearance of a candidate to be not so different from the students he was teaching. I commented that some good-looking American ignoramus would score better and that Aniger would suffer if it catered to image rather than substance. Dr. Denson pointed out that the department could not afford another foreign professor whose English was just incomprehensible. He and I had not spoken to each other since.

I hoped that after each rejection, Kwan was taking it well, but I could sense his frustration getting the better of him. I was afraid he might resort to the same violent reaction he exhibited in grade school. He had related to me during one of our coffee breaks that when his grade six teacher picked her own son, no hotshot student, to represent the class in the Youth Parliament, he went ballistic. He threw his ceramic inkpad on the hard floor, breaking it to pieces. He thought that he as the class president should be the natural choice. He did not tell me the consequence of his outburst but he said he had learned to keep his temper in check.

Meanwhile, Kwan had to feed himself and his family. I supported him partially from my research grant. Also, he was able to teach part-time at the University of Aniger, making about $3000 per class. He was lucky he got to teach two classes a semester. This is about half of what he would make if he had a full-time assistant professorship. Still, he wished he could earn more to afford some new winter clothes, especially for Lu Ping and Linda.

He was getting despondent because practically all the places he wrote to did not reply or did not find his qualifications suitable to the position advertised. He was interviewed by phone for a university in eastern Canada... Nothing came of that.

He and Lu Ping had become coupon savers and regular customers of discount stores. They did their groceries late Saturday afternoons to avail of clearance items. They are now used to day-old bread at half price. He also remembered that it's been almost six months now since he promised Uncle Doo Ching his Nike Air Jordan court shoes. A cool $119. He was getting despondent because practically all the places he wrote to did not reply or did not find his qualifications suitable to the position advertised. He was interviewed by phone for a university in eastern Canada. This was a common practice, which normally would be followed by a letter of invitation for a personal interview. Nothing came of that.

Since the year he got his Ph. D., the University of Aniger advertised three positions. Each time, he and I thought it was a break for him because each position would pay thirty some thousand dollars, enough to support him and his family with a little to save. Yes, he could even replace his rusty 1984 Ford Taurus. So he applied with bright hopes. Little did we know that there were influential people in the hierarchy opposed to his appointment. I already suspected that at our department party last Christmas when Dr. Denson, snubbed the Kwans a couple of times, once when Denson turned away just as Kwan came to introduce Lu Ping.

In any case, for the three positions, two white male and a female engineers were hired from elsewhere. The reason was that they would be better teachers since they spoke colloquial English. Once again, language became the barrier. In a gesture of compensation, Dr. Kwan was offered two classes a semester to teach at the going rate.

At the University of Aniger, there is a policy of students evaluating their professors towards the end of each class. Students are asked to indicate whether they agree or not to statements such as "The instructor explains ideas and concepts in a clear and logical manner." and "The instructor shows a mastery of the subject." Ironically, Dr. Kwan scored extremely well in the course evaluation leaving all of those picked ahead of him in a cloud of dust, so to speak.

This year, despite the excellent course evaluation by students at Aniger, he missed the short list again. I tried to get information on the reason for this. The committee chairman said that there was comment that "Kwan's Ph. D. was from Aniger and this could result in inbreeding", a term that refers to a department hiring its own graduates to teach. Presumably, it discourages fresh ideas from outside and may lead to stagnation. I was livid.

"Since when was there a university policy that disallows hiring of your own graduates?" I asked, "A quick glance through the faculty roster will show you several Ph. D.'s from Aniger teaching at Aniger. Hiring your own graduates is common not only at Aniger, but in more reputable universities in the United States and Canada."

"Sorry," the chairman said, "I should not have told you anything that goes on within the committee."

It was tempting to cry racism but it was difficult to prove because discussions within the search committees were supposedly confidential. The fact that the committees were composed of mostly, if not all, white members, it still would not be proof enough to warrant a complaint of discrimination; nor would the fact that Denson himself was an ex-officio member.

***

Were I in Kwan's shoes, might I have reacted the way my Uncle Nino in the Philippines would? Might I decide to solve my problems with my hunting rifle?

In the many years that I had known Kwan, first as a correspondent, then as my grad student, and later as a colleague, I could sense every mood he felt. True, at our almost daily coffee breaks, he would tell me about China, his life and schooling there, his problems adjusting to America and of course, our research. I invited him and his family to my house a few times. Helen and Lu Ping went out once or twice. Between Helen and I, we were able to piece together the turmoil the Kwans were going through. Were I in Kwan's shoes, might I have reacted the way my Uncle Nino in the Philippines would? Might I decide to solve my problems with my hunting rifle?

Despondence gnaws at the human spirit. Chia Li Kwan had had this feeling before. At the University of Beijing, he missed several meals when he was not selected to the University Table Tennis Team although he had beaten the eventual champion in a close round-robin match. He did lose to the two other members selected but the matches were touch and go.

When Kwan arrived home at his apartment, Lu Ping had just set the table for supper. She had prepared Kwan's favorite dish, sauteed sliced pork in black bean sauce and mushroom with a touch of rice wine. She also had war-wonton soup and gai-lan vegetables with shrimp and garlic. These are tasty Chinese dishes that Helen and I had when we were invited once to their small apartment. Kwan really was a better cook than Lu Ping but over eight years of marriage she had picked up Kwan's culinary skills. Their daughter Linda, whom they nicknamed Aya, had just come home from playing with her second grade classmate next door and had sat at the dining table calling to her dad. Since she learned to talk, she had been calling her parents Mom and Dad. She used to speak Chinese but has now switched to English exclusively.

"What? What do you want?" Kwan snapped at Linda. When Linda started to grimace as if she was about to cry, Kwan softened his voice and said, "Sorry, Aya. I am just very tired from work."

"We will be eating soon, you two," Lu Ping said, hoping to break the tension.

"Damn!" Kwan said as he went through his usual routine. First, he went to the bathroom. Then he went to the kitchen for a cup of hot green tea and two pieces of almond cookies, ignoring Lu Ping's announcement of supper. Then he turned on the TV in the living room and plunked down on the sofa in front of it. He wasn't really listening for his face was etched in an unforgiving scowl. Lu Ping knew something was wrong. So she didn't tell Kwan that supper was getting cold as she was wont to do. She told Linda to go ahead and eat as she sat beside Kwan to watch the TV news.

Later when she started to feel some hunger pangs, she suggested to Kwan that they should have their supper and perhaps all three of them could take in a movie at the Rialto Square. "Snow Falling on Cedars is showing and they say it's good, Chaya." she said. (Chaya is Lu Ping's term of endearment for him.) Kwan maintained his morose mood.

Lu Ping had gone through this scenario before. She had amazing inner strength, nursing the hurt that every rejection iinflicted on her husband. Like any faithful wife from her old country, she kept to herself her resentment at Kwan being bypassed for a lesser man, maintaining an appearance of steadfast support for Kwan.

"What did Dr. Legarda say? Is there anything he can do?" Lu Ping was fishing but she felt that the only problem that could overwhelm her husband was the uncertainty of a tenure-track position. They had in fact delayed having another child until Kwan had a position. She knew that Kwan applied for the job at Aniger and she was looking forward to a more stable situation.

Lu Ping thought about the department Christmas party where she felt snubbed by Dr. Denson. She was not really happy to have such a man for her husband's boss. Still, she knew that getting an academic position even here would lead to a good career for her husband.

Peering through half-closed eyes, she watched him as he took out his 45-caliber gun (the same type he had at military training in Beijing), loaded a cartridge and left.

After another vain attempt to get Kwan to open up, Lu Ping decided to have her supper. She remembered the time when they were going out and Kwan tried for the Ping-Pong Team and did not make it. And Kwan skipped supper. So she ate in silence as she tried to let her thoughts be masked by the TV sound. When she was done, she left Kwan's plate, bowl, chopsticks and the food on the table. She cleared the rest and went to sit beside Kwan keeping her fears and misgivings to herself. She watched TV for a while until she fell asleep.

Before long, she was snoring almost imperceptibly, Kwan noted. Like a humming bee. It's amazing how she could sleep soundly despite the TV noise. She had a tendency to do that after a full supper. Kwan placed a blanket over her and let her be.

Lu Ping awakened to a noise and realized that Kwan had gotten up early, had already showered and put on his one business suit, the gray woolen one he wore at his thesis defense. She did not stir. Peering through half-closed eyes, she watched him as he took out his 45-caliber gun (the same type he had at military training in Beijing), loaded a cartridge and left.

Lu Ping became curious and extremely concerned. As soon as Kwan left, she asked her friend Wendy Srinivas next door for a ride to the university. They saw him leave his car and walk towards the Engineering Building. He had his right hand in his coat pocket. She followed him furtively to Dr. Denson's office. When she saw him point the gun at Denson's head, she yelled, "No…No…No!" Helen felt Wendy holding her and shaking her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Kwan hovering over her.

"Oh Chaya. Why? Why did you do that?" she cried as she came to, wiping tears from her eyes.

"You were screaming," Kwan said, "I'm sorry, Lu Ping. Did I hurt you? I had to wake you up. I have to return to campus." Kwan unclenched her fingers as she tried to hold on to him. He would be late for his appointment with Denson.

© Eusebio L. Koh

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