After a Career in Physics, Pursuing a Love of Art.

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Author: Hiatt, Gina J.

IT'S 8:30 A.M., and Vincent Jaccarino, professor emeritus at the University of California at Santa Barbara, is getting impatient. He has already had his cereal and fresh-squeezed orange juice. If his wife doesn't finish getting dressed soon, they'll be late for aerobics class. After that, he plans to spend the day at the sculpture workshop at Santa Barbara City College, with time out to meet his wife for lunch and take a brisk walk along the beach.

He is living the life of his dreams, as he has ever since he retired, at 67, 13 years ago. The reason I know is that I am his daughter. And as his daughter, I am thrilled to see him bring the same vitality to his leisure time that he did to his 25-year career as a physics professor and director of the Quantum Institute. As a psychologist who now coaches faculty members and graduate students, I am relieved that my father (along with my stepmother, who was a senior systems analyst at the university library) has found contentment since putting his academic ambitions behind him. Although he loved university life, once he received his last paycheck, he barely looked back.

In contrast, one of his colleagues, a professor who taught in a different department, chose to continue academic pursuits into his late 80s. My father was puzzled by his colleague's lack of interest in anything outside academe; even before the man retired, my father had noticed that tendency and worried about his friend's future. In one sense my father was right: The former professor worked on revising his textbooks, and not much else, until his death. No hobbies, sports, or other nonwork activities interfered with his writing.

Of course, my father's friend had the right to do whatever he wanted with his postacademic years. But I wonder: Did he make optimum use of his freedom from the rigors of work? He certainly wasn't writing textbooks because he needed the money. I have to agree with my father: His colleague had no idea how to do anything else.

Perhaps because of those different models of retirement that I've observed, I have also often wondered what retirement will hold for the academics whom I encounter in my work. In fact, I have heard the word "terror" used more than once to describe professors' feelings about impending retirement. For academics, careers are more than "jobs"; they are a way of life. Academe is a world unto itself, and it tends to invite the unbalanced life. The professors who never think of anything but their field are rewarded with tenure and prestige. For many, then, the feeling is not that they are retiring "to" but "from" something. Academe is a warm and comforting cocoon that they fear leaving.

TO BETTER UNDERSTAND what makes a rewarding retirement, I looked to George E. Vaillant's longitudinal research, detailed in his book Aging Well: Surprising Guideposts to a Happier Life From the Landmark Harvard Study of Adult Development(Little, Brown, 2002). He tracked three cohorts of people older than 60 who had been studied by other researchers since their teens or early 20s. Some in the study were in their 80s. Through extensive interviews with his participants, Vaillant was able to determine four "basic tasks" that are essential to postjob satisfaction: social activity, play, creativity, and lifelong learning. Neglect any of those, he says, and you will not enjoy your later years as fully as you might.

For academics who are no longer affiliated with an institution or have lost regular contact with colleagues, it is Vaillant's first task, social activity, that suffers most. A friend and colleague, Jane Paznik-Bondarin, professor emerita at the City University of New York Borough of Manhattan Community College, told me that she missed the "Cheers factor"--being in a place where everybody knows your name. That loss of recognition by others can lead to a sense of lost identity. The trick, of course, is to replace those contacts with new ones. In my father's case, he has bonded with a community of artists, of all different ages, enriching his life in the process.

Although Vaillant acknowledges that play and creativity are interrelated, he points out that play has no specific goal, whereas creativity produces a product that others can experience. To enjoy both play and creativity, you need to "maintain self-respect while letting go of self-importance," he says. That poses a difficulty for some academics. My father's colleague, the textbook writer, told him that he didn't know what to do in his free time. But in response to my father's suggestion that he take a photography class, since he showed some talent in that direction, the man reacted with disdain: "I couldn't bear to have someone lecture me."

Creativity usually starts with some knowledge of the arena in which one will create. In that respect, my dad was lucky: He has been passionate about art since his teens. He actually began college as an art student, before switching to physics, and he has painted his whole life. I remember being embarrassed by the nude sculptures displayed in our house when I was little. For my father, his release from the scientific world left him free to explore his first love. When I visit, I often find him in the studio he built behind his house, where he spends countless hours drawing, painting, and now sculpting. And creativity has garnered him recognition in a new field: He won first and second place in his city's art contest one year, thanks to his varied artistic styles.

I would have doubted that professors would need any urging to consider Vaillant's fourth factor, lifelong learning. My father informs me, however, that his friend's negative reaction to the idea of being "lectured to" is not uncommon. Although he himself has enjoyed learning new sculpture techniques, sometimes from people 50 years younger, my father has seen more than one retired academic balk at the idea of being a rank amateur. Another colleague, who joined him in a sculpture class, struggled with that as he looked at the misshapen sculpture he had produced, until he realized that it was "freeing" to be a beginner. Indeed, learning something completely outside one's domain of experience opens new horizons--if one can let go of self-importance as part of one's identity.

Leaving academe is less daunting for those who long to pursue some compelling interest outside of ivy-covered walls. Vaillant unequivocally states that "if work is more fun, keep on doing it." But face it: If you live long enough, there will come a point where you will not be working, no matter how fun your work has been. So it is crucial to plan how you want to spend the last 15, 20, or more years of your life. Professors should at least put the same amount of thought into what they will be doing during retirement as they put into financial planning. In fact, Vaillant concludes that learning the four basic activities adds more to the enjoyment of life than does the amount of retirement income. Furthermore, he found that the most creative of his study participants at middle age were from two to four times more likely to be happy and physically vigorous in old age than were the less creative participants.

Academics are uniquely positioned to prepare themselves for rewarding and fruitful postcareer years. Most faculty members will have the luxury of easing into retirement by working into their 70s, continuing to work part time, or pursuing work in related areas like writing. They should take advantage of those transition years by nurturing social outlets outside academe, developing new interests, and exploring areas that intrigued them in the past. I urge my clients to maintain a balanced life throughout their working years. But it's never too late to start.

What I have learned from my father--the scientist, the artist, the student--is that the retirement years can provide profound experiences, including the opportunity to view oneself through completely new lenses. I think that he likes what he sees through those lenses. And I do, too.

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By Gina J. Hiatt

Gina J. Hiatt is a clinical psychologist and dissertation and faculty coach. She is the founder of AcademicLadder.com.