An honest perspective on independent scholarship

Or, my answer to “What do you do for work?”

On the rare occasions when I go to parties or when I meet people for the first time it can be hard for me to answer the question “What do you do for work?” If I simply list out the things I do from week-to week, the average person might guess that my job title is “college professor.” And while I am an adjunct faculty member at a few institutions, this is not technically right. For a bit of time now, I’ve wanted to do some reflection on my ongoing attempt to work as an “independent scholar” rather than in a position at an institution. As I wrote some months ago, the term “independent scholar” has been critiqued by some as being an unfortunate euphemism for someone who doesn’t have an academic position but still participates in research, writing and teaching. But, I have increasingly found it to be useful for describing myself. In this post, I’ll share a little bit about how I use my time and earn a living as an independent scholar, with some honest reflections on the good parts and less desirable aspects. In short, it’s going well for me, well-enough that I am likely to continue for the present! But there are a lot of things that I do miss about formal institutional affiliation.

My initial entry into the world of “independent scholarship” was meant to be a transitional period, after moving states and leaving a job that I held during COVID. At first, I taught as a lecturer/adjunct at a few institutions, tried out a few writing ideas (which mostly didn’t work out), and tried to figure out what kind of job I would ideally like to do next. This all also coincided with having a baby, which was a big event in itself. Gradually, I started writing more publicly on my own blog and a newly created newsletter, and began offering workshops and consulting in an area of overlap between my interests and experiences: Responding to neurodiversity in the college classroom. This work built on a lot of past experience in faculty development working with instructors on Universal Design for Learning, inclusive teaching methods, and course design. It also meaningfully integrated some of my own experiences as a former neurodivergent student, as well as a neurodivergent staff and faculty member (at different points). I’m now glad to say that a good chunk of my time, as I detail below, is now spent teaching others about neurodiversity and how I think it can help shape teaching and learning.

How I use my time

At the moment, I do participate in all the classic academic activities of teaching, research/scholarship, and service, though perhaps in different “doses” than a faculty member might.

Things that I do that take up large amounts of my time include:

• Teaching: I teach as an adjunct professor at multiple institutions, teaching anywhere from 1-3 courses per semester. Nearly all of my teaching of undergraduate and graduate students over the past few years has been in the area of “disability studies.”

• Independent educational development/instructional design: This category includes work like guest speaking and facilitating at various institutions, contract instructional design projects, partnering with an institution to run my asynchronous course on “neurodiversity for educators,” or something similar. My favorite type of engagement is when I get to work with a group on a repeated basis and get to know them, their students/faculty, and unique institutional setting.

Things that I do that take up medium amounts of time include:

• Writing and research: This includes book writing, occasional peer-reviewed pieces, my blog space, presentations at conferences, and communication and outreach on social media. This writing and research usually helps me generate the ideas, approaches, connections, and data that inform my independent consulting work. So while this component is “unpaid,” it contributes to my income in an important way.

Things that I do that take up small amounts of my time include

• Advising graduate students: I do this occasionally as part of a committee or informally.

• Mentorship: I try to offer my advice and guidance to people who reach out to me, or offer it to other members of communities I am part of. I might offer formal or informal mentorship to colleagues for a few hours per month.

• Peer review or grant support: I usually accept these opportunities whenever they are feasible for me.

• Professional development: This might include workshops, trainings, and other things I do to try to stay current in the fields of educational development and instructional design. The AI explosion has made this hard for me!

If I were to say what amount of time is taken up by these buckets overall, I would say that teaching is about 35% on average (depending on the term), independent educational development and instructional design is about 35% on average, writing and research is about 20% and “other” including mentoring/advising, peer review/service, professional development is about 10%.

One thing I notice when I consider this breakdown is that, with the possible exception of the independent consulting work, there is a fair amount of similarity between the way that my time is used and the way that a typical faculty or staff member’s time would be used. But not earning a regular 12 month or 9 month salary requires attention to how these different activities are compensated (or not) and how to make enough money for the year.

For example, teaching as an adjunct is remunerated at a predictable, though not very lucrative rate (I guess just think of the range of adjunct salaries you might be familiar with from your own experience). So while this doesn’t make up a very large number, I have some fairly reliable teaching opportunities which I enjoy, am challenged by, and which work well logistically for me. A larger amount of income comes from independent educational development and instructional design work, although this is less predictable. I typically do not receive any kind of compensation for writing and scholarship (unless you count some guest speaking opportunities or hopeful book royalties in the “scholarship” category) or for mentoring or advising when I do it. For a full time faculty or staff member, one lump salary is received for all these activities, and there may be specific expectations for what percentage of time is used on each bucket.

The good and the less good

Though there are a lot of benefits to my current “independent scholar” system, which I’ll get to, it’s almost easier to point out the drawbacks. Many of these drawbacks are logistical and money-related. Income is a lot less certain - it is always possible that teaching and independent consulting opportunities will dry up. I don’t get health insurance (I’ve been able to work this out through my spouse’s work and or state programs), and I don’t get other benefits like parental leave (if I had another kid, I’d likely just have to give up income for that period, unlike if I were in a full time position). My schedule, is more under my control from hour to hour, but a lot of the independent faculty development ends up needing to be during specific times when faculty are on campus but not teaching (January, May, and August tend to be very busy).

Other drawbacks are more in the professional realm. I do genuinely miss having a group of colleagues that I meet with and work with regularly, as I had really positive team experiences at my previous educational development jobs. I do miss (at times) feeling part of the mission of an individual institution, although I sometimes have the opportunity to contribute in a small way through teaching or consulting. And, just from a super practical standpoint, I do miss having just one login/email to worry about (I think I might currently be juggling four or five).

Despite these issues, I think the past few years of independent scholarship have had the following benefits:

• I’ve done work that I am not sure I could have done inside an institution. Independent scholarship has allowed me to do a “deep dive” on how a greater understanding of neurodiversity, disability more generally, and lessons from disability studies can be brought to bear on how we teach in higher education. I’m proud of the work I have done trying to answer these questions and sharing that information with others. While there are a lot of institutions which are really interested in these ideas, employees don’t always have the time flexibility to address them in depth. I’ve also noticed that I have ended up working with a lot of institutions that don’t necessarily have a large teaching and learning center, so I’ve been able to bring some knowledge and experience to contexts that can benefit from additional support.

• I’ve learned more about how I work and learn best by “being my own boss” for a while, and allowed myself to embrace some of my neurodivergent traits. Working independently, I less often feel like I have colleagues looking over my shoulder or counting on me to do things in a certain way, and I think that has helped me to take risks I wouldn’t have otherwise. I feel confident that when and if I go back to a full-time institutional role the challenge of the transition will be balanced by some of the self-knowledge I’ve developed during this time.

• The connections I’ve been able to make across a variety of contexts have been truly enriching. From other faculty developers and faculty members to students and to parents of current and future neurodivergent students, writers, and activists, I think the work I’m doing now has helped me connect with an abundance of wonderful people. This is no small thing for me, someone who tends to spend a lot of time alone and doesn’t always have the easiest time making new friends.

Returning to the stigma of the “independent scholar” label, I think it is helpful to just recall the reality that the tenure-track positions of our imaginations are super rare today. The idea of pursuing a different kind of scholarly or teaching career, including in the area of educational development where I previously had staff positions and many of my colleagues currently do, is probably more common than ever and shouldn’t on its face be a negative thing. The unfortunate reality is that it is way too hard to support oneself in academia without a full-time position. I feel like I have gotten really lucky in being able to do this for a while, but I also feel like there are so many more people who could do the kind of niche work that I have been doing in their own areas of interest if there were more ways to make a living in academia.

To that point, I’d like to continue to extend my hand in friendship and support to anyone who is going through a career transition, questioning what they would like to do next or what they can contribute, or thinking about what independent work might look like for them. If the personal experiences I shared here are helpful, great, and if you want to chat more, I’d be happy to do that also. While I admit to frequently looking at interesting job openings whenever they cross my screen and would be excited about one that is a good fit, I’m currently looking ahead to another year of independent scholarship in 2026.

News

• I’ll be attending the POD meeting in San Diego in a few weeks. You are absolutely welcome to come up to me and say “hi” if you see and recognize me. I look similar to my avatar pictures except my hair has blonde highlights.

• I’ve put the materials from some recent talks as well as permanent versions of some LinkedIn posts on my website, which you can feel free to check out.

Please feel free to contact me with any feedback or comment if you are logged into Substack.

Photo by Renáta-Adrienn on Unsplash