Remember that post where I told you all about how depressed I've been this year and how long it took for me to get help (again) because of that depression? I wrote that four weeks ago and, well, things have changed quite a bit.
The exact same day that I posted that, just as I was handed a dirty martini at a happy hour with some friends, another friend called and asked how I would feel about working at the school that rejected me in April for the job that would have been perfect for me. A teacher resigned somewhat (but not really) unexpectedly and they needed to fill her position for a year while the curriculum is being restructured. They were very clear that it is only for a year, not a long-term position. Needless to say, I could care less. I need experience in an independent school because I obviously can't count on a TT job (seriously, is anyone out there still counting on that?) but I love teaching and don't want to stop.
I need out of Delaware. I need out of my parents' house. I need out of the adjunct "life." I need a change.
Long story short, it has been a crazy four weeks because I'm moving to Reno. I finished my adjunct classes, found an apartment, hired a moving company, and gave my notice to my bartending job - so long, suckers!
I also have to find time to hang out with the people I want to see before I leave and somehow this feels like a more permanent goodbye. I knew when I moved to Canada that I would most likely move back to the States, if that dream job in Scotland never materialized, that is. Obviously I hope that this year teaching in Reno will help me land a job at another school, but it's starting to feel very real that I won't live in this area again. That's a little sad because now I'm remembering what I like about this place, especially the beach. If only there was something for me to do here other than bartend, work in retail, sell real estate, or teach in a public school (no, thank you). That's always been the problem with Rehoboth, though. The exact reason I love it is the exact reason I can't stay. There just isn't enough for me here, no matter how much I wish there was.
In the meantime, I have to sort through boxes and boxes of...stuff to decide what goes with me and what gets donated. A lot of stuff is still packed from my move back from Canada, but I've somehow accumulated a ton in two years that needs to be packed. Did I mention I'm not a fan of packing? And how I have two boxes of toiletries, I have no idea! The moving company picks up my stuff in two weeks and I have so much to do!
Showing posts with label adjunct. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adjunct. Show all posts
January 2, 2014
I HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE.
Can you tell I'm excited? I am.
I haven't had insurance since I moved back from Canada and last month, thanks to Obamacare, I finally, finally, finally qualified for Medicaid because of the lowered income requirements. I was rejected twice before because, as an adjunct, I barely made too much money - just not enough money to actually be able to afford health insurance. In August I was denied Medicaid because I made $72 too much per month. In October, after my summer job was over, I was told to reapply and then denied again because I made $2 too much per month.
Two dollars.
I know there has to be a limit, but in what world does an extra $2 or even $72 mean someone can afford health insurance? It was so frustrating. I shed a tear or two over this, out of sheer frustration alone. Finally, though, a case worker called in December because they were reviewing applications to see who would qualify under Obamacare. I more than qualified, especially since I won't be teaching next semester and have only my part-time job to rely on now.
My card already came in the mail. I called today to choose the plan and primary card provider I want. Tomorrow I get to call to make an appointment for a physical. A physical! Woohoo!
I haven't had insurance since I moved back from Canada and last month, thanks to Obamacare, I finally, finally, finally qualified for Medicaid because of the lowered income requirements. I was rejected twice before because, as an adjunct, I barely made too much money - just not enough money to actually be able to afford health insurance. In August I was denied Medicaid because I made $72 too much per month. In October, after my summer job was over, I was told to reapply and then denied again because I made $2 too much per month.
Two dollars.
I know there has to be a limit, but in what world does an extra $2 or even $72 mean someone can afford health insurance? It was so frustrating. I shed a tear or two over this, out of sheer frustration alone. Finally, though, a case worker called in December because they were reviewing applications to see who would qualify under Obamacare. I more than qualified, especially since I won't be teaching next semester and have only my part-time job to rely on now.
My card already came in the mail. I called today to choose the plan and primary card provider I want. Tomorrow I get to call to make an appointment for a physical. A physical! Woohoo!
October 23, 2013
Sink or Swim*
I am a nag. Rather, I'm not normally a nag, but I turned into a nag this semester. My students do not have their shit together at all. They miss deadlines all the time (despite a rather steep daily late penalty), ignore instructions constantly, don't do the readings on anything near resembling a regular basis, they don't take notes in class when they even bother to come to class, and then they wonder why their grades are low. By low, I mean failing.
I don't mean all of my students, obviously, but I do mean a giant chunk of them - larger than any semester I've ever seen before. For instance, eleven students out of twenty-two in one class didn't turn in a primary source analysis. That's 50%! That is shocking! ELEVEN.
(Just saying "eleven" makes me laugh and reminds me of this wonderful skit.)
You're welcome.
This is the same syllabus I've used for two other semesters with the same assignment instructions, so I'm 99% sure there isn't a problem with the clarity of my instructions, given that this has never happened before. Four of those eleven students who did submit the essay wrote it about the wrong primary source, just completely and entirely used the wrong source. Two of those students used sources from the twelfth and fourteenth centuries. The class is a modern U.S. history class. I just. I can't.
Today alone I asked two students why they weren't taking notes and didn't even have a notebook out. I told three students not to put their heads down on the desk because it was class time, not nap time. I emailed a student to find out when or if she was planning on returning to class because she emailed me a week ago to tell me her grandfather was on his deathbed and she wouldn't be in class Friday and wondered if she could take the quiz Monday instead. I hadn't heard from her since, so I emailed her to make sure she was ok. She's fine, according to her email, just had a cold and so she hasn't come to class. No mention of her sick grandfather, who happens to be sick right before the second test of the semester. Did I mention her grandmother passed away last month, right before the first test of the semester? I also emailed two students whose group project is two days overdue.
I had a group discussion of FDR's Four Freedoms and Charles Wesley's response planned. I broke them into groups, told them to read the Wesley source, which was only 3/4 page long. And then I watched them. I watched them read the source and then sit there. Silent. For minutes and minutes and minutes after every group member was finished reading. This is week ten in the semester and the class is very used to group work and discussing and they generally do a good job of it. Today they were silent and I was fed up. After ten minutes of silence, I actually said, "Did you forget that you are meant to discuss the two sources with your group?" I gave good instructions about what to discuss; I'm just not sharing them here for the sake of brevity in an already long post. Some of the good students actually chuckled, like I'm hilarious, but they were silent, too. What the frick? After my sarcasm, they did discuss them together and I went around to each group and everything was fine, as was the eventual discussion with the whole class - better than fine, good actually, but the damage was done.
I came to the realization, as I sat there watching them not discussing the sources, that I'm putting too much effort into this. I'm enabling them even though that was not my intention and even though I'm trying to teach them responsibility. I'm not their mother. Why am I doing all of this? If they don't care AT ALL, why do I?
It's just...I hate to see students failing. I hate to see them slipping through the cracks, so I try to follow up with them when I see it happening, but now I am that professor who harps on her students to put their phones away (every freaking class with one student in particular), take notes, wake up, turn their assignments in, nag, nag, nag. I don't want to be that professor. I don't like that professor. No one likes that professor.
I can feel the students who do their work getting frustrated. They roll their eyes at students who claim they had no idea a quiz was today or their paper had to be uploaded to turnitin.com. They are fed up with those students and so am I.
Weeks ago, I warned that the reminders would end and that they were on their own and yet I've found myself slipping back into the same habit because so many of them are not doing the work or paying attention to the syllabus. My nagging ends today. I am burnt out. I have no more to give. I can't help students who don't help themselves and so I am done. I have done all that I can. I have done far more than some of the FT professors in my department would do and I am just an adjunct. So, I'm calling it. I'm done.
I'm choosing to focus on the students who do their work, who come to class, who make an effort. There will be no more tracking students down about their assignments. No more nagging. No more lectures about how to act as a college student. They've heard it from me at least twice before and I know they've heard it from other professors, too. They are on their own now.
Sink or swim, kids. Sink or swim.
*It was hard to come up with a title for this post. I originally called it "Stalking Students" because that's what I feel like I'm doing, but that's awful and I didn't want to seem to make light of dangerous situations.
I don't mean all of my students, obviously, but I do mean a giant chunk of them - larger than any semester I've ever seen before. For instance, eleven students out of twenty-two in one class didn't turn in a primary source analysis. That's 50%! That is shocking! ELEVEN.
(Just saying "eleven" makes me laugh and reminds me of this wonderful skit.)
You're welcome.
This is the same syllabus I've used for two other semesters with the same assignment instructions, so I'm 99% sure there isn't a problem with the clarity of my instructions, given that this has never happened before. Four of those eleven students who did submit the essay wrote it about the wrong primary source, just completely and entirely used the wrong source. Two of those students used sources from the twelfth and fourteenth centuries. The class is a modern U.S. history class. I just. I can't.
Today alone I asked two students why they weren't taking notes and didn't even have a notebook out. I told three students not to put their heads down on the desk because it was class time, not nap time. I emailed a student to find out when or if she was planning on returning to class because she emailed me a week ago to tell me her grandfather was on his deathbed and she wouldn't be in class Friday and wondered if she could take the quiz Monday instead. I hadn't heard from her since, so I emailed her to make sure she was ok. She's fine, according to her email, just had a cold and so she hasn't come to class. No mention of her sick grandfather, who happens to be sick right before the second test of the semester. Did I mention her grandmother passed away last month, right before the first test of the semester? I also emailed two students whose group project is two days overdue.
I had a group discussion of FDR's Four Freedoms and Charles Wesley's response planned. I broke them into groups, told them to read the Wesley source, which was only 3/4 page long. And then I watched them. I watched them read the source and then sit there. Silent. For minutes and minutes and minutes after every group member was finished reading. This is week ten in the semester and the class is very used to group work and discussing and they generally do a good job of it. Today they were silent and I was fed up. After ten minutes of silence, I actually said, "Did you forget that you are meant to discuss the two sources with your group?" I gave good instructions about what to discuss; I'm just not sharing them here for the sake of brevity in an already long post. Some of the good students actually chuckled, like I'm hilarious, but they were silent, too. What the frick? After my sarcasm, they did discuss them together and I went around to each group and everything was fine, as was the eventual discussion with the whole class - better than fine, good actually, but the damage was done.
I came to the realization, as I sat there watching them not discussing the sources, that I'm putting too much effort into this. I'm enabling them even though that was not my intention and even though I'm trying to teach them responsibility. I'm not their mother. Why am I doing all of this? If they don't care AT ALL, why do I?
It's just...I hate to see students failing. I hate to see them slipping through the cracks, so I try to follow up with them when I see it happening, but now I am that professor who harps on her students to put their phones away (every freaking class with one student in particular), take notes, wake up, turn their assignments in, nag, nag, nag. I don't want to be that professor. I don't like that professor. No one likes that professor.
I can feel the students who do their work getting frustrated. They roll their eyes at students who claim they had no idea a quiz was today or their paper had to be uploaded to turnitin.com. They are fed up with those students and so am I.
Weeks ago, I warned that the reminders would end and that they were on their own and yet I've found myself slipping back into the same habit because so many of them are not doing the work or paying attention to the syllabus. My nagging ends today. I am burnt out. I have no more to give. I can't help students who don't help themselves and so I am done. I have done all that I can. I have done far more than some of the FT professors in my department would do and I am just an adjunct. So, I'm calling it. I'm done.
I'm choosing to focus on the students who do their work, who come to class, who make an effort. There will be no more tracking students down about their assignments. No more nagging. No more lectures about how to act as a college student. They've heard it from me at least twice before and I know they've heard it from other professors, too. They are on their own now.
Sink or swim, kids. Sink or swim.
*It was hard to come up with a title for this post. I originally called it "Stalking Students" because that's what I feel like I'm doing, but that's awful and I didn't want to seem to make light of dangerous situations.
October 1, 2013
Affordable Care for Adjuncts?
Today is the day. Today is the day Obamacare goes into effect. Today is the day Obamacare goes into effect and I get to fill out my application for Medicaid.
Medicaid? Yes, Medicaid. I don't make enough money as an adjunct to afford health insurance, even through Obamacare, so I have been told that I need to apply for Medicaid.
I came to this understanding at a meeting at my school that was supposed to explain the non-existent changes to the school's insurance plan and answer any questions any employees might have. The school's insurance agent was very nice, explaining that, because my school's insurance plan actually exceeds the platinum level of coverage in Obamacare, employees have nothing to worry about, although they could opt out and buy their own, lesser coverage, presumably to save themselves some money.
Here was my exact train of thought as I processed this information, "Better than the platinum level of coverage? That's amazing. Who on earth would choose to opt out of that?...Wait. No. What the hell? That is bullshit. Couldn't the school drop down a level of coverage and extend benefits to more of their employees? Or drop down a level of coverage and pay us a wage that gives us a fighting chance of being able to purchase insurance ourselves?"
That's the problem, of course. It's lovely that my school offers such a supposedly fantastic plan, but it does me no good. Obamacare does me no good, either, as much as I am a firm believer in the necessity of universal healthcare. It does me no good because I don't make enough to buy my own insurance. It does me no good - in fact, it hurts my situation - thanks to the stupid decision on the part of the IRS that says anyone teaching more than two college classes is a full-time employee and must be insured by the college, resulting, as expected, in adjuncts' class loads getting decimated, further affecting our ability to cobble together a living, let alone purchase health insurance.
On a side note, I would like to see whatever geniuses at the IRS who came up with that decision try to teach two classes and work on those classes less than forty hours a week.
Still, as I've read more and more about the #IamMargaretMary tragedy and watched the government shut down over Obamacare and I've read all of people's angry tweets and raging posts on Facebook - on both sides of the issue - I have been, aside from my initial blog post and tweets about Margaret Mary's death, relatively silent.
It's not that I'm not angry. I'm furious. Of course I'm furious. I'm also at a loss. I hear people saying all these dreadful things about poor people being too lazy to get a job or being happy to mooch off the system because they are all drug addicts or not spending their money on "the right things." I read posts with people joking that it's funny how people can't pay for their own health insurance, but they can pay for a smartphone.
Ha ha. Yes, that's hilarious. I have an iPhone, I confess. Shame on me. Show me a health insurance plan that costs the $35 per month that I pay for my data plan and I would gladly purchase it. But let's have it be a useful plan that doesn't require a $10,000 deductible and only lets me visit one doctor in the state, ok?
I hear these awful comments and I want to scream that I AM THAT POOR PERSON. I am the person who cannot afford health insurance, or rent, or my student loans, or a car payment. I live with my parents and have lived with my parents for sixteen months because of my financial situation. I'm trying to finish my dissertation and bartend during the summer tourist season to help make ends meet since what I make as an adjunct is laughable, but those ends don't meet.
Those ends never meet. How can they meet with $150,000 in student loans? How can they meet when I drive 45 minutes each way, three times a week, to teach and gas costs $3.40 per gallon? How can they meet when, every time I feel myself start to get on top of my bills, something always happen? My dog gets sick, or my car breaks down, or I get sick and am forced to go to the doctor to get a prescription, spending $300 just to get simple antibiotics after being sick for three straight weeks and not being able to take it anymore. Yes, I am that poor person who isn't spending their money on "the right things."
But let's do the math, shall we? Let's see just how much I make an hour teaching "part-time." Keeping in mind that the national average per class for adjuncts is somewhere around $5,000, I earn $2,100 per class. $2,100 over sixteen weeks of teaching - because no one preps for a class before the semester starts, right? - is $131.25 per week. Since I naturally don't work 40 hours per week because I don't have a "full" course load, let's say I work 25 hours a week (I can barely control the shaking rage I feel at the assumption I work so little as a professor, but, sure, let's go with it). $131.25 per week divided by the ridiculous assumption of a 25-hour work week means I get paid, drumroll, $5.25 per hour. That's $2.00 under my state's minimum wage requirements and, like I said, 25 hours per week is some sort of insane joke of an estimate. Just for fun, let's see how much I make assuming a 40-hour week. Again, $131.25 divided by 40 this time is...$3.28 per hour. $3.28 per hour to teach a college class.
How did I get here? I did all the things I was told would help me make a good life for myself. I work hard, I am educated - well-educated, possibly too well-educated. In other words, I bought into the myth of the American dream and yet, here I am, living with my parents and applying for Medicaid.
As I sit here filling out my Medicaid application and trying to choke down the humiliation of needing Medicaid, I am going to let that number run through my head as a constant reminder of why I am about to try to go on Medicaid.
Yes, I am that person who "mooches off the system." Wouldn't you? It's a system that pays me $3.28 per hour.
Medicaid? Yes, Medicaid. I don't make enough money as an adjunct to afford health insurance, even through Obamacare, so I have been told that I need to apply for Medicaid.
I came to this understanding at a meeting at my school that was supposed to explain the non-existent changes to the school's insurance plan and answer any questions any employees might have. The school's insurance agent was very nice, explaining that, because my school's insurance plan actually exceeds the platinum level of coverage in Obamacare, employees have nothing to worry about, although they could opt out and buy their own, lesser coverage, presumably to save themselves some money.
Here was my exact train of thought as I processed this information, "Better than the platinum level of coverage? That's amazing. Who on earth would choose to opt out of that?...Wait. No. What the hell? That is bullshit. Couldn't the school drop down a level of coverage and extend benefits to more of their employees? Or drop down a level of coverage and pay us a wage that gives us a fighting chance of being able to purchase insurance ourselves?"
That's the problem, of course. It's lovely that my school offers such a supposedly fantastic plan, but it does me no good. Obamacare does me no good, either, as much as I am a firm believer in the necessity of universal healthcare. It does me no good because I don't make enough to buy my own insurance. It does me no good - in fact, it hurts my situation - thanks to the stupid decision on the part of the IRS that says anyone teaching more than two college classes is a full-time employee and must be insured by the college, resulting, as expected, in adjuncts' class loads getting decimated, further affecting our ability to cobble together a living, let alone purchase health insurance.
On a side note, I would like to see whatever geniuses at the IRS who came up with that decision try to teach two classes and work on those classes less than forty hours a week.
Still, as I've read more and more about the #IamMargaretMary tragedy and watched the government shut down over Obamacare and I've read all of people's angry tweets and raging posts on Facebook - on both sides of the issue - I have been, aside from my initial blog post and tweets about Margaret Mary's death, relatively silent.
It's not that I'm not angry. I'm furious. Of course I'm furious. I'm also at a loss. I hear people saying all these dreadful things about poor people being too lazy to get a job or being happy to mooch off the system because they are all drug addicts or not spending their money on "the right things." I read posts with people joking that it's funny how people can't pay for their own health insurance, but they can pay for a smartphone.
Ha ha. Yes, that's hilarious. I have an iPhone, I confess. Shame on me. Show me a health insurance plan that costs the $35 per month that I pay for my data plan and I would gladly purchase it. But let's have it be a useful plan that doesn't require a $10,000 deductible and only lets me visit one doctor in the state, ok?
I hear these awful comments and I want to scream that I AM THAT POOR PERSON. I am the person who cannot afford health insurance, or rent, or my student loans, or a car payment. I live with my parents and have lived with my parents for sixteen months because of my financial situation. I'm trying to finish my dissertation and bartend during the summer tourist season to help make ends meet since what I make as an adjunct is laughable, but those ends don't meet.
Those ends never meet. How can they meet with $150,000 in student loans? How can they meet when I drive 45 minutes each way, three times a week, to teach and gas costs $3.40 per gallon? How can they meet when, every time I feel myself start to get on top of my bills, something always happen? My dog gets sick, or my car breaks down, or I get sick and am forced to go to the doctor to get a prescription, spending $300 just to get simple antibiotics after being sick for three straight weeks and not being able to take it anymore. Yes, I am that poor person who isn't spending their money on "the right things."
But let's do the math, shall we? Let's see just how much I make an hour teaching "part-time." Keeping in mind that the national average per class for adjuncts is somewhere around $5,000, I earn $2,100 per class. $2,100 over sixteen weeks of teaching - because no one preps for a class before the semester starts, right? - is $131.25 per week. Since I naturally don't work 40 hours per week because I don't have a "full" course load, let's say I work 25 hours a week (I can barely control the shaking rage I feel at the assumption I work so little as a professor, but, sure, let's go with it). $131.25 per week divided by the ridiculous assumption of a 25-hour work week means I get paid, drumroll, $5.25 per hour. That's $2.00 under my state's minimum wage requirements and, like I said, 25 hours per week is some sort of insane joke of an estimate. Just for fun, let's see how much I make assuming a 40-hour week. Again, $131.25 divided by 40 this time is...$3.28 per hour. $3.28 per hour to teach a college class.
How did I get here? I did all the things I was told would help me make a good life for myself. I work hard, I am educated - well-educated, possibly too well-educated. In other words, I bought into the myth of the American dream and yet, here I am, living with my parents and applying for Medicaid.
As I sit here filling out my Medicaid application and trying to choke down the humiliation of needing Medicaid, I am going to let that number run through my head as a constant reminder of why I am about to try to go on Medicaid.
Yes, I am that person who "mooches off the system." Wouldn't you? It's a system that pays me $3.28 per hour.
September 19, 2013
Will this be me?
There is a tremendous sense of outrage over the tragic death of Margaret Mary Vojtko. Perhaps it was her life, or at the least the last few years of it, that was more tragic than her death. I don't know.
If you haven't read the article already, you should. Vojtko's death, in the most appalling way possible, highlights the effects of university administrators' willful disregard for the human beings they employ at pay levels per class that sometimes are less than or equal to what a work-study student can earn in a semester. Trying to earn a living as an adjunct is precarious, at best. Trying to earn a living as an adjunct in a country without universal health care is, obviously, worse. When you add to that an attempt at providing health care for everyone, but that attempt backfires as administrators prove they lack any milk of human kindness and cut adjuncts' class loads to avoid providing health care for those of us in the trenches, doing the majority of the teaching, teaching the classes full time faculty don't want, in the time frames they don't want, what you have is not a recipe for disaster. It is a guarantee of disaster.
The refusal of administrators to pay a living wage, to provide health insurance, to treat adjuncts as human beings deserve to be treated, will have lasting repercussions. I could go on and on about the unfairness of the situation to the students. Hell, I have. But you know what? There's been enough talk about the students. I don't care about students right now. For once, it's not about them. It's about me. It's about me and all the other adjuncts who, despite working tirelessly for wages that can do nothing but trap us into a cycle of what is basically mental torture when your insufficient income is unreliable, sporadic, and likely to change with the briefest of notice. It's about the desperation created by a system that will kick you out of the door after years of abuse and not even give thought to the destruction of your life and all that you have worked for, a destruction that they have helped cause. It's about the hope that this will end, that Vojtko's treatment - that the fact that she worked for a Catholic university for 25 years and yet was buried in a cardboard casket - will help bring an end to such a system.
Because you know what? Change the religious affiliation of the school and that could easily be me in the cardboard casket in forty years.
Because you know what? Change the religious affiliation of the school and that could easily be me in the cardboard casket in forty years.
August 22, 2013
And That's What It's All About!
Don't be disappointed. This post isn't about the Hokey Pokey. It's about teaching. I can tell you're sad. Sorry to disappoint!
Anyway, I was on campus yesterday to pick up my printed syllabus because the print shop lady doesn't get to campus until 7:45 a.m. and I have an 8:00 a.m. class on Monday and am far too obsessive to even consider waiting until then to get pick up my syllabus. Anyway, I ran into a few of my former students, football players who were already on campus for practice, and they seemed genuinely excited to see me. We chatted for a bit about the upcoming semester and their season and it was nice. It's why I decided to go back after all.
Then today I checked my class rosters and noticed that one of my students in World Civ last year signed up for a class with me this semester. A repeater! My first repeater! How cool is that? I'm so excited! I can't wait to get back in the classroom!
Anyway, I was on campus yesterday to pick up my printed syllabus because the print shop lady doesn't get to campus until 7:45 a.m. and I have an 8:00 a.m. class on Monday and am far too obsessive to even consider waiting until then to get pick up my syllabus. Anyway, I ran into a few of my former students, football players who were already on campus for practice, and they seemed genuinely excited to see me. We chatted for a bit about the upcoming semester and their season and it was nice. It's why I decided to go back after all.
Then today I checked my class rosters and noticed that one of my students in World Civ last year signed up for a class with me this semester. A repeater! My first repeater! How cool is that? I'm so excited! I can't wait to get back in the classroom!
July 30, 2013
It's happening all over again...maybe??
I got an email today asking me to teach at the same school again this fall. They offered me two sections of U.S. History again.
I'm conflicted. I didn't think I'd be willing to go back and I'm still not sure that it's a good idea because it's not very much money (I mean even lower than normal adjunct pay) and I may just be setting myself up for heartbreak all over again. On the other hand, I wouldn't have to revise anything unless I really, really wanted to, giving me time to finish the dissertation and keeping a foot in the door somewhere, since I've had absolutely no interest from any other schools I've applied to and the semester is rapidly approaching. It also means I could bartend or wait tables part-time, instead of the full-time option I'm staring down right now since no other teaching options are working for me.
I don't know. Any of you who so patiently listened to all of my whining (and celebrating, too) last year want to weigh in on this, keeping in mind that I've been trying for months and months (and months and months) to find alternate employment and keep getting rejected for being overqualified and underqualified, etc., etc., etc.?
I'm conflicted. I didn't think I'd be willing to go back and I'm still not sure that it's a good idea because it's not very much money (I mean even lower than normal adjunct pay) and I may just be setting myself up for heartbreak all over again. On the other hand, I wouldn't have to revise anything unless I really, really wanted to, giving me time to finish the dissertation and keeping a foot in the door somewhere, since I've had absolutely no interest from any other schools I've applied to and the semester is rapidly approaching. It also means I could bartend or wait tables part-time, instead of the full-time option I'm staring down right now since no other teaching options are working for me.
I don't know. Any of you who so patiently listened to all of my whining (and celebrating, too) last year want to weigh in on this, keeping in mind that I've been trying for months and months (and months and months) to find alternate employment and keep getting rejected for being overqualified and underqualified, etc., etc., etc.?
May 6, 2013
That's the end?
My semester of teaching is over and I'm...underwhelmed? It's not like I was expecting a party at the end of the semester, but a "goodbye" email from the chair would have been nice. I don't even need a "thank you," just some recognition that I was there and now I won't be would have been nice. Heck, even just the letter of reference he promised would have been fantastic. Instead, I had to email him to remind him about the letter and to let him know that I'd arrange with a prof teaching summer classes to drop my keys off to her one day this week, since no one was there to give my keys to Friday. What an end.
It would be different if I was a large school and just a face in the crowd. The department has three full-time professors and four adjuncts, one of whom is supposed to be a full-time professor in the fall, if everything works as promised. So...really? Nothing at all? I must expect to much. Courtesy. Courtesy is too much.
On the bright side, my students sound like they will miss me. Before the final, I was trying one more time to convince a student to at least do a minor in history because he was very engaged and able to grasp the larger concepts of what I was teaching. After he asked what classes I'd be teaching in the fall so he could sign up for one and I said I wouldn't be here, he said, "Oh. Well, never mind. I don't really like history. It's boring, but your class was different. You made it different." He then went on to tell me how he dropped a Western Civ class with the chair because it was so boring. That's not information I wanted. I recommended two other profs and he said he'll think about it. The same thing happened at the end of the final when a student I felt certain hated me all semester asked what classes I'm teaching in the fall and I had to again explain that I'm an adjunct and the school isn't bringing me back because of "enrolment." I managed not to roll my eyes or use air quotes when I said that, too, so I was a little proud of that. She was disappointed, though - genuinely so - because she wanted to take another class with me, she'd enjoyed it so much. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I really thought she hated me. Evidently not.
At least it was a great end to the class, if not to my time at the school itself. And now I promise to be done whining about this school. That's over, too.
It would be different if I was a large school and just a face in the crowd. The department has three full-time professors and four adjuncts, one of whom is supposed to be a full-time professor in the fall, if everything works as promised. So...really? Nothing at all? I must expect to much. Courtesy. Courtesy is too much.
On the bright side, my students sound like they will miss me. Before the final, I was trying one more time to convince a student to at least do a minor in history because he was very engaged and able to grasp the larger concepts of what I was teaching. After he asked what classes I'd be teaching in the fall so he could sign up for one and I said I wouldn't be here, he said, "Oh. Well, never mind. I don't really like history. It's boring, but your class was different. You made it different." He then went on to tell me how he dropped a Western Civ class with the chair because it was so boring. That's not information I wanted. I recommended two other profs and he said he'll think about it. The same thing happened at the end of the final when a student I felt certain hated me all semester asked what classes I'm teaching in the fall and I had to again explain that I'm an adjunct and the school isn't bringing me back because of "enrolment." I managed not to roll my eyes or use air quotes when I said that, too, so I was a little proud of that. She was disappointed, though - genuinely so - because she wanted to take another class with me, she'd enjoyed it so much. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I really thought she hated me. Evidently not.
At least it was a great end to the class, if not to my time at the school itself. And now I promise to be done whining about this school. That's over, too.
April 30, 2013
A Sphincter Says What?
I typed up my student evaluations from last semester because, well, I'm an adjunct and no one in the department cared enough to have it done for me. These evaluations were done by the department itself, in addition and separate from the college evaluations that are online. All the history department asked was what students liked best and least about the class. Typing them up myself was its own particular kind of torture, not just having to read the comments that I can't respond to but also having a very good idea of who wrote what because I still remember most of their handwriting styles.
I decided to take to Twitter and tweet some of the gems (those that made me feel all warm inside *and* those that were particularly heinous), as a way to help me process the comments. When I came across a comment that said "I didn't like how early the class was," I tweeted that quote with my response at the end: Then don't sign up for an 8:00 class. It got some laughs and retweets. It also helped me not get angry at the student, who I in no way forced to take an 8:00 class when I am anything but a morning person and was certainly not thrilled at having to be there at 8:00 myself. I have a 45 minute drive in the morning. They have to walk across a street. (See? This is the downfall of seeing the handwriting, knowing who wrote the evaluation, and remembering all the things they told you throughout the semester.)
The tweet that got the most response, however, was this one:
"I liked how the teacher lectured, but you had to study. Most teachers make PowerPoints that give all the information and you don't do anything on your own."
I decided to take to Twitter and tweet some of the gems (those that made me feel all warm inside *and* those that were particularly heinous), as a way to help me process the comments. When I came across a comment that said "I didn't like how early the class was," I tweeted that quote with my response at the end: Then don't sign up for an 8:00 class. It got some laughs and retweets. It also helped me not get angry at the student, who I in no way forced to take an 8:00 class when I am anything but a morning person and was certainly not thrilled at having to be there at 8:00 myself. I have a 45 minute drive in the morning. They have to walk across a street. (See? This is the downfall of seeing the handwriting, knowing who wrote the evaluation, and remembering all the things they told you throughout the semester.)
The tweet that got the most response, however, was this one:
"I liked how the teacher lectured, but you had to study. Most teachers make PowerPoints that give all the information and you don't do anything on your own."
When I first read it, I was stunned, hence the Wayne's World reference. You can get through college-level classes without studying? Professors just want you to regurgitate what they tell you? Call me naive, but that's horrendous. I almost didn't tweet it. I was so taken aback that I thought it had to be a one-off. But it wasn't. There were a few more comments in a similar vein, so I tweeted it and my response, which was "I don't know what to say about that last tweet eval. I feel sorry for those students who are taught to be robots."
Apparently, a lot of people agreed to me because there was a flurry of retweets, favorites, and replies with some very good points made. What happened to critical thinking? What happened to independent learning and studying and thinking for yourself? Is it wrong to expect students to study in college?
It is very easy to criticize students for not understanding what it takes to succeed in college, that they are largely responsible for their own success, that grades reflect performance, not effort. After all, how many times have we told students they don't get an A because they do the work, they get an A because their work meets a certain standard?
But are we complicit in their misunderstanding? Evidently, some of us are. In this age of the assault on higher education, this is not how we should represent ourselves if we expect society at large to believe our protests that higher education is important and relevant and vital. If we don't make the effort to teach as well as we can, why should we expect students to make the effort to learn as well as they can?
I say this fully aware of the all of the changes taking place in higher education right now, fully aware of all of the other demands on academics that can push teaching to the back burner, and fully aware of the adjunct situation, since I've lived it for the past year. I say this as someone who tried to write her dissertation while teaching four new classes.
Do I regret spending what a lot of people would consider too much time on teaching? No. I really don't. I just graded a student's final exam and the grade was more than double what they earned on the first test of the semester. The student obviously learned something this semester and it wasn't just modern U.S. history. They learned how to read for comprehension, how to study, how to think critically. How do I know this? I worked with that student quite a bit. I can see the change. That's why I don't regret it. Whether the student realizes it or not, I made a difference and that's enough for me. Well, that and evaluation comments like these:
"I liked the fact that this course taught things that weren't common knowledge. I deeply enjoyed my learning experience."
"I liked that we learned many things that could possibly change our views."
"I thought history was boring until I actually got engaged with it."
I might not have been at this school for long, but I can leave without regret, knowing that I did the best I could and that the school is losing an asset, someone who cares about their students, not someone who throws up a PowerPoint slide and tells their class to just copy it down. I care and I can make a difference. That's the point of being an educator.
March 27, 2013
Aca-what???
Yesterday Inside Higher Ed posted two pieces particularly relevant to my life right now. The first was on counting adjunct hours for the Affordable Care Act; the other was on the unethical treatment of adjuncts. So much to say. So much anger.
When I originally was told that I "most likely" wouldn't get classes next fall because of enrolment concerns, I believed it. A few people suggested it might be because of ACA, but I defended "my" school, thinking they wouldn't do something like that. They're a religious school, after all, and surely have more humanity than that. I kept believing it right up until I noticed that the emails making the rounds to faculty and staff kept mentioning how excited the administration is that the number of inquiries and applications for next year were actually UP. In no less than seven emails, we were all told numbers were up and enrolment projections were actually higher than the last two years. I realize that's just projected numbers, but ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?
I did some more digging and found out that nearly all the adjuncts were getting reduced hours this semester and told they "most likely" wouldn't be back in the fall "because of enrolment concerns." I couldn't find anyone who knew of a single adjunct who was told otherwise. I also couldn't find another faculty member, adjunct or full-time or staff from the financial office, who had heard that numbers were not actually expected to increase.
So. I admit I was wrong. I will admit that my school and its administration lack all milk of human kindness. The administration is just a money-hungry and blood-sucking as everywhere else and that makes me really sad. I'm not sad just for me. Would I have liked to stay there, with a job I like near my friends and family? Absolutely. I'm more sad for the students, though, and the effect this has on them, on their eduction, for which they are paying a lot of money, probably more than they should, but that's another matter entirely.
As for the second article...argh. I just can't. Let's compare the issues in the article to my current adjunct experience, shall we?
1) "no job security or expectation of employment beyond the current term" - CHECK
2) no benefits and low compensation - CHECK (please, $2,700 is a dream compared to what I earn)
3) ineligible for unemployment benefits - CHECK
4) don't receive orientation, mentoring, and are excluded from faculty meetings - CHECK, CHECK, CHECK
5) not involved in curriculum design - CHECK (in fact, I barely have control over my class syllabus since the former chair criticized me because my U.S. History survey class covers up to Watergate - the other profs don't get past Vietnam and only spend one day on Vietnam, so I felt pretty happy that I got further than profs who taught the class on a regular basis and it was my first time, but she wanted me to spend all my time on the 20th century and get to World War I in three weeks - three weeks to cover Reconstruction, the American West, railroads, industrialization, and the Progressives. Unbelievable. Fortunately, the current chair told me to ignore her and approved my syllabus. Three weeks!)
6) lack of office space - I'm ok on that, actually, mercifully, although plans were in the works to kick me out of my office for 3 hours each on MW this semester because the former chair wanted an undergrad who would be working for the department to have office space. The undergrad was supposed to get my office on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I was told specifically not to come to campus on those days because those would be her days in the office, but then that meant that Mondays and Wednesdays should have been my days, following that logic, except that I was also getting kicked out for three hours on those days in favor of the undergrad. This was particularly problematic since I carpool with my dad and would then have nowhere to go for three hours. Trust me, the library is not an option because it is very, very tiny and does not have a lot of work space. Fortunately, none of this happened.)
7) hiring decisions made at the last minute, often days before classes start - CHECK (I got hired three weeks before classes started to teach two classes I'd never taught before, one of which was not the class I'd applied for originally. I was told this semester that I would find out if my 8 week class would go ahead the day that it was supposed to start. Would you prep a class you might not get paid for? Is it better to prep at the very, very last minute? What a nightmare.)
8) inadequate materials and resources - CHECK (at the end of last semester I found out there was an online instructor resource with all kinds of maps and activities - don't get me started on how much time I spent searching for decent maps - that was upsetting to say the least, but at least I am free to make as many photocopies as I want)
I could go on and on (and I have), but I am fed up. I'm pissed. I've only been an adjunct for a year, although I was aware of the adjunct nightmare for much longer, but how long will this go on? How can institutions treat the ones in the trenches, doing the majority of the teaching that tenured profs don't want to do, like crap? We don't make enough money to support any life, especially not a life with a family or massive, crushing student loan debt, or both. It enrages me that we are treated as expendable and worthless. How is this sustainable, not just for adjuncts, but for students and institutions? It will not succeed. Students will not succeed. Institutions will not succeed. This country will not succeed.
Ok, rant over. For now. (And apologies for some of the nonsensical ramblings. I write much better than this normally, but I am too upset and needed to get it all down.)
P.S. I'm switching the title of this blog back to its original title, "Acaderanged," because it sounds better than "Acabullshit," which is closer to my present feelings about academia right now.
When I originally was told that I "most likely" wouldn't get classes next fall because of enrolment concerns, I believed it. A few people suggested it might be because of ACA, but I defended "my" school, thinking they wouldn't do something like that. They're a religious school, after all, and surely have more humanity than that. I kept believing it right up until I noticed that the emails making the rounds to faculty and staff kept mentioning how excited the administration is that the number of inquiries and applications for next year were actually UP. In no less than seven emails, we were all told numbers were up and enrolment projections were actually higher than the last two years. I realize that's just projected numbers, but ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?
I did some more digging and found out that nearly all the adjuncts were getting reduced hours this semester and told they "most likely" wouldn't be back in the fall "because of enrolment concerns." I couldn't find anyone who knew of a single adjunct who was told otherwise. I also couldn't find another faculty member, adjunct or full-time or staff from the financial office, who had heard that numbers were not actually expected to increase.
So. I admit I was wrong. I will admit that my school and its administration lack all milk of human kindness. The administration is just a money-hungry and blood-sucking as everywhere else and that makes me really sad. I'm not sad just for me. Would I have liked to stay there, with a job I like near my friends and family? Absolutely. I'm more sad for the students, though, and the effect this has on them, on their eduction, for which they are paying a lot of money, probably more than they should, but that's another matter entirely.
As for the second article...argh. I just can't. Let's compare the issues in the article to my current adjunct experience, shall we?
1) "no job security or expectation of employment beyond the current term" - CHECK
2) no benefits and low compensation - CHECK (please, $2,700 is a dream compared to what I earn)
3) ineligible for unemployment benefits - CHECK
4) don't receive orientation, mentoring, and are excluded from faculty meetings - CHECK, CHECK, CHECK
5) not involved in curriculum design - CHECK (in fact, I barely have control over my class syllabus since the former chair criticized me because my U.S. History survey class covers up to Watergate - the other profs don't get past Vietnam and only spend one day on Vietnam, so I felt pretty happy that I got further than profs who taught the class on a regular basis and it was my first time, but she wanted me to spend all my time on the 20th century and get to World War I in three weeks - three weeks to cover Reconstruction, the American West, railroads, industrialization, and the Progressives. Unbelievable. Fortunately, the current chair told me to ignore her and approved my syllabus. Three weeks!)
6) lack of office space - I'm ok on that, actually, mercifully, although plans were in the works to kick me out of my office for 3 hours each on MW this semester because the former chair wanted an undergrad who would be working for the department to have office space. The undergrad was supposed to get my office on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I was told specifically not to come to campus on those days because those would be her days in the office, but then that meant that Mondays and Wednesdays should have been my days, following that logic, except that I was also getting kicked out for three hours on those days in favor of the undergrad. This was particularly problematic since I carpool with my dad and would then have nowhere to go for three hours. Trust me, the library is not an option because it is very, very tiny and does not have a lot of work space. Fortunately, none of this happened.)
7) hiring decisions made at the last minute, often days before classes start - CHECK (I got hired three weeks before classes started to teach two classes I'd never taught before, one of which was not the class I'd applied for originally. I was told this semester that I would find out if my 8 week class would go ahead the day that it was supposed to start. Would you prep a class you might not get paid for? Is it better to prep at the very, very last minute? What a nightmare.)
8) inadequate materials and resources - CHECK (at the end of last semester I found out there was an online instructor resource with all kinds of maps and activities - don't get me started on how much time I spent searching for decent maps - that was upsetting to say the least, but at least I am free to make as many photocopies as I want)
I could go on and on (and I have), but I am fed up. I'm pissed. I've only been an adjunct for a year, although I was aware of the adjunct nightmare for much longer, but how long will this go on? How can institutions treat the ones in the trenches, doing the majority of the teaching that tenured profs don't want to do, like crap? We don't make enough money to support any life, especially not a life with a family or massive, crushing student loan debt, or both. It enrages me that we are treated as expendable and worthless. How is this sustainable, not just for adjuncts, but for students and institutions? It will not succeed. Students will not succeed. Institutions will not succeed. This country will not succeed.
Ok, rant over. For now. (And apologies for some of the nonsensical ramblings. I write much better than this normally, but I am too upset and needed to get it all down.)
P.S. I'm switching the title of this blog back to its original title, "Acaderanged," because it sounds better than "Acabullshit," which is closer to my present feelings about academia right now.
February 26, 2013
February Sucks
I basically lost my job yesterday. I can't find it, but I thought I'd written something on here somewhere about possibly teaching this summer because the school is making a push for core requirement classes, like the survey classes I teach, to be available during the summer and that adjuncts can teach them, if full-time faculty don't want to, despite the fact that they are trying to cut back on adjunct hours, which has something, I suspect, to do with this new trend of cutting adjunct hours to prepare for the Affordable Care Act, in addition to enrolment concerns, which they claim is the reason, yet all the numbers are in line with at least the last three years, so to say I'm skeptical about this is putting it mildly. The point of that terrible run-on sentence was supposed to be that I was trying not to get my hopes up about those summer classes actually happening, but I sort of did, and yesterday I met with my chair to, basically, plead my case as to why they should give me a contract for next year, rather than use me as an adjunct and risk losing me, the British history I can teach because the department doesn't offer British history currently, and my digital humanities training, which would be very useful because the school is trying to get on the online class bus and I at least am familiar with best practices in digital pedagogy and am the only person there who has experience with teaching online classes, which the other professors have no interest in learning about or starting because they are all hoping to retire in the next few years. Seriously. The three full-time professors in the department all want to retire within five years at the most. There is one visiting professor, who they want to hire TT for the next semester, but that's questionable right now with the current state of things. There are also three adjuncts, including one who is moving to Georgia this summer, one who teaches Museum Studies and World Civ only, and me. So, the department is...in trouble.
Anyways, his response was that he was sorry they had misled me since our very first meeting, but they won't be able to offer me a contract because the school is cutting back so drastically on adjuncts and on visiting professors, etc. Of course, if the numbers improve, I'd be the first person they offer classes to, but only on adjunct pay and they wouldn't know until July. As for the summer classes, the department has decided not to offer them, despite the push by the school, because the department does not think students will enroll in them.
Basically, the department is resisting all changes the school is trying to make (and don't get me wrong - I don't agree with all of the changes, but some of the changes do seem sensible, from both a financial and an academic standpoint) and actively trying to recruit people to stand in resistance with them. Instead of going along with ideas that might even help the department, like offering more classes to attract more students, they have decided to defy ALL the changes/mandates and jump on a sinking ship. Am I bitter? Yes. Did I think all of this prior to yesterday? Absolutely.
I left the meeting in a weird mood. It was quite disheartening to hear that I most likely will not return to a school that I actually like, but, at the same time, it was kind of freeing. At least now I know. That's why I set up the meeting. I was tired of the promises and half-promises they were making and all of the rumors swirling around the school. So, now I know.
I went home after the meeting, which was the plan all along, not a reaction to the meeting, because one of our dogs, Winnie, had lymphoma and this weekend she really deteriorated, hardly being able to walk to go outside and only with help standing up because she had a massive tumor, by her left rear leg, that tripled in size the past few days. I wanted to go home and make sure she was ok and spend some time with her because it was time to put her to sleep and we did that last night, which is an entirely different kind of horrendous experience and one that I am tired of going through and never want to go through again and would never wish anyone to have to make that decision for their pet.
Winnie just turned twelve last month. She was so sweet. She was also my beloved Dewey's girlfriend. Dewey was only seven or eight months old when we brought Winnie home; they grew up together and were, honestly, insane together. They even had puppies together eventually. (That still creeps me out because I thought of them as besties, but besties don't matter in dog show world, where good genes rule and those two have excellent genes.) My parents kept the two most adorable puppies, who I adore almost as much as Dewey. They are, after all, his babies. He might hate them because they fight him for my attention (please, 99% of the time, he wins), but I love them.
This is Winnie, being obnoxious to my mother, who bought a throw rug for Winnie to sleep on and be able to stand up on because the linoleum was very difficult. Winnie, as you can see, thumbed her nose at the rug, despite it being placed exactly where she liked to lay, and decided to lay down next to it instead. I have no doubt she learned the obnoxiousness from Dewey, the master.
So, goodbye, Winnie, and thank you so much for making us all happy and loving Dewey and giving me Princess (if you think that's a ridiculous name, you should hear her full name, though I take full responsibility for both and, trust me, she more than lives up to her obnoxious name) and Tank. We will all miss you. We already do.
January 16, 2013
I love my students!?
I'm taking an extreme risk here by even thinking it, but...the majority of my students did the reading for the second day of class. Can you believe it? I can't! We had a discussion! In class! And they could answer my questions! Correctly!
I walked out of class feeling this odd feeling - like I was impressed. They read. They talked. It was surreal. This was not how my last semester started at this school. It gives me hope.
(Yes, Friday that hope may get pooped on, but for two days I get to bask in the glow of a successful class. Yay!)
I walked out of class feeling this odd feeling - like I was impressed. They read. They talked. It was surreal. This was not how my last semester started at this school. It gives me hope.
(Yes, Friday that hope may get pooped on, but for two days I get to bask in the glow of a successful class. Yay!)
January 13, 2013
Resolutions...blargh
It's January 13th and I have already broken all of my resolutions for the New Year. For starters, here I am, online, when I'm not supposed to be. I also worked today, when I wasn't supposed to do so. Yoga? Pfft. Don't make me laugh!
DHWI was fantastic, but it was really difficult to get everything done this week while I was in class all day every day. I learned so much that it was definitely worth it; I can't wait to get started on the project in my head. Anyway, classes start tomorrow. TOMORROW. My syllabus is done (what a nightmare - I was indecision personified), the course site is done, my nails are painted red (my favorite), and my outfit is picked out. I know the nails and outfit sound silly, but I'm not a morning person and need to have that stuff done ahead of time, plus, the less stress on the first day, the better off I'll be.
My reading resolution is the only one going well so far. Great Gatsby? Done - that's one. I also finished Anne Lamott's "Bird by Bird"- that's two. Yes, technically that is not a "for fun" kind of book, but, you know what? It's my resolution and I can count whatever I want! I needed writing inspiration and finally got around to reading this, after one of my committee members told me about it over a year ago. I need to pick this week's book and fast! I'm thinking about Malcolm Gladwell's "Tipping Point." That's not my idea of a fun read, but it's been on my list for years, so I should probably just get it out of the way. Coincidentally, I came across this post on (where else?) twitter today - I told you I'm breaking resolutions left and right - and am inspired about sticking to this and fitting in reading time wherever I can.
Next week aka tomorrow I'm back on the resolution train again!
DHWI was fantastic, but it was really difficult to get everything done this week while I was in class all day every day. I learned so much that it was definitely worth it; I can't wait to get started on the project in my head. Anyway, classes start tomorrow. TOMORROW. My syllabus is done (what a nightmare - I was indecision personified), the course site is done, my nails are painted red (my favorite), and my outfit is picked out. I know the nails and outfit sound silly, but I'm not a morning person and need to have that stuff done ahead of time, plus, the less stress on the first day, the better off I'll be.
My reading resolution is the only one going well so far. Great Gatsby? Done - that's one. I also finished Anne Lamott's "Bird by Bird"- that's two. Yes, technically that is not a "for fun" kind of book, but, you know what? It's my resolution and I can count whatever I want! I needed writing inspiration and finally got around to reading this, after one of my committee members told me about it over a year ago. I need to pick this week's book and fast! I'm thinking about Malcolm Gladwell's "Tipping Point." That's not my idea of a fun read, but it's been on my list for years, so I should probably just get it out of the way. Coincidentally, I came across this post on (where else?) twitter today - I told you I'm breaking resolutions left and right - and am inspired about sticking to this and fitting in reading time wherever I can.
Next week aka tomorrow I'm back on the resolution train again!
December 20, 2012
The agony of adjuncting
My classes for next semester got cut. Instead of teaching four classes, I will now be teaching one class. One. Class. My already extremely low wages just got reduced by 75%.
It took a full day for exactly what this means to sink in for me. The immediate financial repercussions were obvious, but then it hit me that I also wouldn't be able to go to two big conferences this summer or DHSI (despite the scholarship that would pay for tuition). I was also supposed to go to Sicily with my school for a travel trip because next year they 1) want me to still be there and 2) want me take the travel class to Scotland and teach or co-teach the travel class.
These are big disappointments, but the worst - the heartbreaking part - is that I can't afford to go to my best friend's wedding in March. It's in the Bahamas. The airfare, the resort, and the dress are not actually that expensive, but will still cost more than half of what I'll make for the semester. We've been friends for 30 years. We grew up next door to each other. She is the closest thing I have to a sister. I'm the maid of honor. And I don't have a choice but to back out of the wedding.
It took a full day for exactly what this means to sink in for me. The immediate financial repercussions were obvious, but then it hit me that I also wouldn't be able to go to two big conferences this summer or DHSI (despite the scholarship that would pay for tuition). I was also supposed to go to Sicily with my school for a travel trip because next year they 1) want me to still be there and 2) want me take the travel class to Scotland and teach or co-teach the travel class.
These are big disappointments, but the worst - the heartbreaking part - is that I can't afford to go to my best friend's wedding in March. It's in the Bahamas. The airfare, the resort, and the dress are not actually that expensive, but will still cost more than half of what I'll make for the semester. We've been friends for 30 years. We grew up next door to each other. She is the closest thing I have to a sister. I'm the maid of honor. And I don't have a choice but to back out of the wedding.
December 9, 2012
Is hating your students a normal thing?
The other day the Chronicle of Higher Education posted a somewhat disturbing advice piece that you can read here if you want.
Now, I have several problems with this article, especially the patronizing advice to wear a jacket if you're a small woman (I really don't like jackets, nor do I think they automatically command more respect, although I know some people will disagree vehemently with that) and to tell students that they are adults. That I find to be the worst, partly because I don't think it's my responsibility to remind students they are adults, but also because I don't want to sound like some little old lady lecturing the youngsters about how irresponsible they are.
That being said, I have had a hard time at my new school trying to get students to do things that seem like a no-brainer, like checking their syllabus to find out the assigned reading rather than emailing me or asking me in class all the time. I have never had to do so much hand-holding in my life and it was really wearing on me by the end of the semester. I started the semester by not reminding them of the readings or scheduled quizzes or tests because I really didn't think it was necessary. Who doesn't check the syllabus? They would freak out when I reminded the day before a quiz, as if they had no idea that they were supposed to pay attention to these things.
By the last two weeks of class, when they were asking me when our final was scheduled for (after I'd told them every day for a week because I felt like I had to just to drill it into their heads), I wanted to stand at the front of the classroom and scream at them that they could look it up on the school's website just like I did and to stop depending on me to tell them about all the things. Take responsibility! Do it yourselves! Stop expecting to be spoon-fed! I felt like my head was spinning around like what's her face in The Exorcist.
Yes, I was very stressed. A semester's worth of beating my head against the wall to get them to do things for themselves will do that to you. Part of this, of course, was absolutely my fault. I set a policy about late assignments, but began to let that slide because so many students weren't turning anything in at all. This snowballed throughout the semester so much so that by the end, I was overwhelmed with grading and feeling very resentful that they were taking advantage of me. But, I let them and next semester I won't.
Still, hate my students? Even at the height of my frustration and resentment, I didn't hate them. I wanted to help them. That's what got me into this mess in the first place. If a student was willing to come to class and at least seem like they were making an effort, I felt like I had to go above and beyond for them to help them pass my class, particularly with those students whose backgrounds clearly did not prepare them for college. In some cases, I probably put in just as much effort as they did.
Did this help them? I don't know. Maybe some of them were helped. Some weren't. Was it worth it? This I'm not sure of, either. I think I need to stick to firmer policies and help them that way, too. I hope it helps teach them some measure of responsibility, as well as help me keep my sanity. Imagine being sane at the end of the semester. That would be lovely!
Now, I have several problems with this article, especially the patronizing advice to wear a jacket if you're a small woman (I really don't like jackets, nor do I think they automatically command more respect, although I know some people will disagree vehemently with that) and to tell students that they are adults. That I find to be the worst, partly because I don't think it's my responsibility to remind students they are adults, but also because I don't want to sound like some little old lady lecturing the youngsters about how irresponsible they are.
That being said, I have had a hard time at my new school trying to get students to do things that seem like a no-brainer, like checking their syllabus to find out the assigned reading rather than emailing me or asking me in class all the time. I have never had to do so much hand-holding in my life and it was really wearing on me by the end of the semester. I started the semester by not reminding them of the readings or scheduled quizzes or tests because I really didn't think it was necessary. Who doesn't check the syllabus? They would freak out when I reminded the day before a quiz, as if they had no idea that they were supposed to pay attention to these things.
By the last two weeks of class, when they were asking me when our final was scheduled for (after I'd told them every day for a week because I felt like I had to just to drill it into their heads), I wanted to stand at the front of the classroom and scream at them that they could look it up on the school's website just like I did and to stop depending on me to tell them about all the things. Take responsibility! Do it yourselves! Stop expecting to be spoon-fed! I felt like my head was spinning around like what's her face in The Exorcist.
Yes, I was very stressed. A semester's worth of beating my head against the wall to get them to do things for themselves will do that to you. Part of this, of course, was absolutely my fault. I set a policy about late assignments, but began to let that slide because so many students weren't turning anything in at all. This snowballed throughout the semester so much so that by the end, I was overwhelmed with grading and feeling very resentful that they were taking advantage of me. But, I let them and next semester I won't.
Still, hate my students? Even at the height of my frustration and resentment, I didn't hate them. I wanted to help them. That's what got me into this mess in the first place. If a student was willing to come to class and at least seem like they were making an effort, I felt like I had to go above and beyond for them to help them pass my class, particularly with those students whose backgrounds clearly did not prepare them for college. In some cases, I probably put in just as much effort as they did.
Did this help them? I don't know. Maybe some of them were helped. Some weren't. Was it worth it? This I'm not sure of, either. I think I need to stick to firmer policies and help them that way, too. I hope it helps teach them some measure of responsibility, as well as help me keep my sanity. Imagine being sane at the end of the semester. That would be lovely!
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