A few months ago, I was helping Matt prepare for internship interviews by asking him the questions that I dreaded in my own interviews. Tell me about a time that you failed. What’s your greatest weakness? Tell me about your least favorite boss or coworker. And, of course, where do you see yourself in five years?
He balked at that one. At the time, he didn’t know where he would be next year, let alone at the ripe old age of 25. “How do you answer that question?” he asked.
I’ve always been a planner, thinking not only about what I want to accomplish this week, this month, this year, but also into the future. That became even easier once I took a job in academia. The career ladder was incredibly clear - five years of graduate school, a six-year tenure clock, six more until promotion to full professor.
But since being diagnosed with Parkinson’s, long-term planning has been more challenging. One of the first things I did after receiving my diagnosis was read. . . a lot. Books, websites, research studies. I wanted to know as much as possible so that I could continue to plan.
The progression of Parkinson’s symptoms varies significantly across people. Symptoms often progress more slowly among people who are diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson’s disease, as I was. The Michael J. Fox Foundation provides this encouraging conclusion:
Depending on what symptoms you have, how significant they are and what you do for a living, you may be able to continue working for a significant period of time beyond diagnosis.
What does that mean. . . a significant period of time?
I have never spent much time talking about retirement. When our financial planner asked us when we planned to retire, my 35-year-old self said, “75.” I was only 3 years into my career as a professor, but I already realized that I had found my calling. The work that I was doing was meaningful and challenging and provided plenty of opportunity for connection. Can I just move forward as if nothing has changed? Does “a significant period of time” mean 22 more years? Probably not. I no longer feel comfortable making plans as if I was going to have all of the time I wanted. So how to plan around this imprecise guidance?
Planning under uncertainty is not at all uncommon. Right now, just as I did five years ago during COVID, I find myself recommending scenario planning to my MBA students. If you aren’t sure how tariffs might impact demand for your product or how research funding might shift, scenario planning encourages you to think about several possible futures. You develop plans for the best case scenario, the worst case scenario, and a few middle-of-the-road options.
What can I do if I only have 3 years left to work, if I need a break in the middle of the afternoon, if I can only physically sit through a few hours of meetings each day? What if I have 10 more years and can take advantage of the flexibility inherent in my schedule to craft work in a way that makes it possible for me to continue?
I recently wrote about scenario planning and other strategies for navigating disruptive events in Inside Higher Ed. In the article, I say, “I now have multiple answers to the question of where I will be in five years. I am operating in the best-case scenario until the assumptions associated with that scenario no longer hold.” In a 1000 word piece intended to provide advice, I had to leave it at that. But it is not that simple.
I doubt the best case scenario. Every few days, I get Parkinson-sy, as I’ve come to describe it. More fatigued. Less steady on my feet. Tremors. Dizziness. These frequent glimpses of a different future make it hard for me to stay the course. Each time, I wonder if the best case scenario is no longer true, if the significant period of time will soon be done.
But what if a “significant period of time” has nothing to do with the amount of time I’ll be able to work? Merriam Webster defines significant as “having or likely to have influence or effect.” Perhaps the length of time is not as important as what I do with it. How can I make a difference this week? This semester? This year? This changes the way I think about long-term projects.
I just turned in the materials for my five-year post-tenure review. In May, I’ll have a conversation with the Dean, the Senior Associate Dean, and my department head about what I have planned for the next five years. For the first time in my life, I’m struggling to answer that question.
Where do you see yourself in five years?
Thanks for connecting with words again. Like you, I have always been a planner. My body has been sending me these reminders that I am in one of the older demographics for surveys now. In three years, though, I plan to drop to half-time teaching so I can travel more while I can. I have a little granddaughter who loves books, and I love to read, so it seems like a match.
Terry - Thank you for your note! I’m so glad to hear that retirement has been good for you. I feel very lucky to have such good medical care and such a supportive community here in Iowa City! Take care!