Professional Break-ups Hurt Too

Only when I saw a copy of the program did I feel like I could make a real contribution to this gathering; I knew the research of the presenters, I had new viewpoints to bring to the table, and even if the talks turned out to be boring (Sturgeon's Law in effect here, not malice) I could at least get together with some of my colleagues and have meaningful dinner-time talk. So with two weeks before the conference, I contacted the organizers about sitting in, as I had done the previous year. I got no reply for three days from anyone who could help, so I made a couple of phone calls to find out who could tell me one way or the other if I was welcome; later that day I got an email back from the administrator saying that the room was nearly full, except for space for "a few local students and postdocs".

Now, I had been in the room the previous year, so between that, my association with the workgroup (and the host institution), and the fact that the organizer never once talked to me personally about it, I was suspicious, even a bit hurt. Had I been blacklisted from the event for some reason? A difference of professional opinion, or a poorly-crafted joke on my part? Did they just not like me personally, and would enjoy having the distance between Pittsburgh and Boston to keep me apart? After all our time together, I felt entitled to a seat in that room as much as any local grad student or postdoc, in any case, even after trying to convince myself to cool off and forget about it.

At the very least, I was upset to not get an answer from the organizer himself, and still wanted to hear it from him, not one of his surrogates. Another member of the group was keen to get my thoughts on his work, and (at my request) personally asked the organizer whether there was room for an accommodation. The reply came back, indirectly, that he had indeed received and handled my request himself, so that seemed like the last option to attend. (Notably, he didn't CC me on this response.) I tried to make peace with that, even though it still felt a lot like getting dumped; I eventually heard about and decided to attend a conference at the same time in Boston so that I could still do the other things on my list, like visit former classmates, return some books and hit the local fun spots. I followed up by emailing the organizer and administrator to let them know I'd be in town during the conference, and that I'd still like to attend if there happened to be space (a situation the admin suggested was in progress that week.)

Cue this morning, when I hear that there is indeed space in the room from someone at the conference, who also suggests that it might have sounded as if I was asking for them to pay for my trip. Thinking that this was a best case scenario -- I had offended them with unknowing, undue pressure -- and that they'd indeed like me to be part of the discussion, I went down there, saw the organizer outside the room and, mentioning that I'd heard about there being room, asked if he minded that I sit in. His reaction to me was not at all the "I'm glad to see you" I was hoping for; he looked at me with an expression that read "what the hell is *he* doing here?" at best, and then said it would be all right after a good 2 second stall. After the next session I apologized to him for making him uncomfortable. He said that he felt that my persistence for trying to attend this conference was too much, and that I should have called him first upon hearing that there was room, rather than simply showing up. (In my defense, the only contact information I'd ever had was by email, making this particular consideration impossible.)

On reflection, this breaks down rather neatly: the relationship I thought I had with him and this community was not the relationship he had in mind. In a lot of ways it feels like it's right out of Curb Your Enthusiasm, in which everyone agrees that society has rules but no one agrees what they are. I feel indignant about the whole thing because I thought I was acting with truth and some professionalism about this -- and I'm sure they do too. What's left is an unfortunate situation that I don't want to boil over into a professional beef on either side.

This isn't the first time I feel like I've been snubbed; I vividly remember crashing an invite-only session during my undergrad visit weekend that, it turned out, was an invitation by the admissions director to tell this group that they were really the elite group of the admitted class. After hearing all this talk about how MIT was an egalitarian place where no one was treated better than anyone else -- no honors, no institutional scholarships -- I felt lied to. (I enjoyed a few moments of schadenfreude when said admissions director got canned for fabricating her educational history.)

So now I'm left to forgive and let it all go; to move on without having all the answers to my questions; to be amicable at any future meetings or professional encounters, and to let go of any anger, much like in any traditional break-up. I suppose that's the kind of thing that's easier with distance.