It was a sunny day in Northern California, and I hadn't got much sleep, but I made it out to Butte College about seven hours before my final session of ENGL 217: Basic Writing Skills to meet with the co-chair of the English Department to discuss, you guessed it, possible sessions next semester.
I dreaded the meeting the entire time I drove through rice paddies full of swans, small towns teeming with penny candy stores, carnicerias and about every variety of road sign you can imagine, including one for a Lavender Ranch, nuts and two identical 'Jesus is the Reason for the Season' banners. These sorts of diversions only heightened my ambivalence about speaking with trying to sound excited about a career path that has become increasingly less viable and worth it to me, even after years of studying English and writing my heart out.
What changed, you might wonder? It could have been receiving pay for only the four hours I spent occupying the classroom. Any time I spent preparing lessons, answering e-mails or phone calls, or grading was not paid, and I only received five paid office hours at half of my hourly rate. Then, there was the "seniority list," a running list of part-time faculty names that you move up according to how many semesters you have taught at the college. Honestly, I have never been interested in any such acrobatics, even if it guarantees me a section each semester.
No, it wasn't my students who changed my mind about wanting to be in community college, and it wasn't the faculty, either. Even the four-hour drive (round trip) twice a week was worth it, as I saw about every type of wildlife imaginable, not to mention the most amazing buttes, mountains and twisting trees by the side of the road. The thing is, I received amazing evaluations and my supervisor wanted me there, but there were less offerings in the Spring, and with all of the budget cuts, one must take what they can get it.
Regardless of the extreme financial losses California has seen in education, I must admit that I cannot blame the "system." I do think that teachers are highly undervalued while being held accountable for not only student learning but also student quality of life, as even Butte College had an Early Alert VIP Program in place which basically was a referral system for every service imaginable, including healthcare, the campus food pantry and relationship support services. You name it, students have an issue with it, and it doesn't stop with students. I would argue that being a part-time faculty, who, like a migrant farm worker, has to fight for work with every change of the season.
There are many factors that contribute to changes in the weather, and similarly, a variety of contexts that determine faculty pay and retention. At this point, our legislators control the budget, even if we vote on ballot measures or get petitions on the ballot. I would even say that our part-time faculty unions are doing amazing work, but it is slow, and contingent on funding from some very precarious sources, including associate faculty pockets.
That said, I'd like to argue that perhaps it is common complacency and the good 'ole tenure-track that ends up sidelining recent graduates who possess current knowledge, teaching experience, and increased understanding of digital media and academic culture, but are unable to secure employment in the very institutions that "raised" them, so to speak. And, it is this system of guaranteeing full-time employment for either those who have worked their way up aforementioned "seniority lists" or who happen to "get lucky" that turns me against academia in general, in spite of its proven ability to increase income and perspective.
Honestly, it's quite sad that I would tell my current students to stay in school, but not to go into teaching unless they are willing to sacrifice their quality of life for the love of education. I think we need well-prepared teachers who are passionate about their subject, invest in it not only through coursework but networking and community involvement, and who are committed to ethical teaching standards. However, this goes both ways, and we cannot expect a teacher to perform or even return to an institution if we do not account for their food, shelter and living expenses.
This basic need for a "living wage" goes back to my early community college days when I took Human Development and learned, once again, about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. You may or may not recall the pyramid which places food, shelter and clothing at the bottom, and stacks subsequent needs like affection, social support and professional success one-by-one on the pyramid's base. Even the chakra system supports this, as it represents the wheels of energy, or energy centers, in the human body as a spectrum that starts at the root, or sacrum, and moves its ways up to the crown, or divine, center of the body.
Interestingly, Anoeda Judith argues in Eastern Body, Western Mind that in order for us to manifest higher-level qualities, like keen judgment, emotional expressiveness and basic communication skills, we need to have corresponding movement into the earth, or our base of support. We need to have our basic needs provided for in order to achieve not only a higher level of consciousness, but a more enriched sense of our worth as individuals. Unfortunately, adjunct life does not support this knowledge, even if it stresses high-quality teaching that puts students first.
I walked away from college with a host of skills, and it has been hard to feed these gems over the past few months, as I have been worried about unpaid bills, lack of food and gas, and how to keep a roof over my head. I have looked for jobs, and thankfully been able to string together a series of part-time jobs. But when you are unable to get substantial hours, it makes even a flexible job seem worthless.
That said, underemployment has led me to seek jobs in industry, and take my writing "off the grid," at least in the sense that it is present in academic circles. In fact, it was my conversation with the English Department Co-Chair today that affirmed my desire to not be part of the community college, at least not until I have my PhD, or can be sure that it will meet my basic needs.
I showed up to my meeting fifteen minutes late, as there was construction and slow traffic. I was pretty disappointed when I saw that I was more professionally dressed than my superior, not to mention more awake. She kept looking down, and she had this bright pink hat on that would have worked for a shopping day or even a club, but I know I couldn't get away with wearing my favorite hat to my jobs.
Maybe it's harsh of me to judge by appearance, but it was her body language, as well as her disinterest in my professional development, that really turned me off. We were able to talk about what the English department focuses on in terms of curriculum, and I was able to chime in about how that sounds like what I am doing in my current class, but it really disturbs me when I am able to guide the conversation more so than the person who should be teaching me about my field!
But then, it dawned on me that although said chair has her PhD in a very lucrative, culturally impactful field (Gay and Lesbian Studies, which she had to laugh about nervously when she mentioned it), she doesn't use it much. She was able to develop one Queer Studies film class, but it seems like the focus on composition reigns, and I initially thought, Oh. You know, maybe I should just get a PhD, and try my luck at teaching later. It might increase my edge. But then....it sunk in.
COMPLACENCY KILLS. This woman happened to tell me she was tired and had been up at 5:30 because her dogs woke her up. I felt as if I was talking with someone who was entirely out of my league. This is not to say that I haven't been woke up by demanding pets, but I felt the bourgeois air come into my lungs, and I just couldn't stand it anymore. My brain kept thinking 'This isn't where you belong. This department isn't for you.'
And it's true: my supervisor in LEAD, or Language, Education and Development, was much more chill, and seemed much more invested in her field. The whole time we chatted about interdisciplinary curriculum, the importance of committee work, and her interest in literacy. But not so in the Butte English department. We talked about different teaching methods,and how rigor is needed, but she told me to check out online teaching, and when I mentioned how I don't feel comfortable teaching for proprietary institutions, as it exploits students, she said she understood, but still, to look into it.
HA. I don't think online teaching is any more lucrative, and when she mentioned it was very heavily supervised, I wondered why she would point me in that direction at all. Even though she mentioned this area writing institute, it was obvious that I wasn't to be there, and even when I promoted myself, it came back to that seniority list. I do want to mention that after our meeting, she did kindly introduce me to the faculty in charge of creative writing, and that woman was WAY more involved in her work, and happy to share. But so much for department chairs.
On that note, I'd like to take my complaints back to one comment the chair made about researching for papers, and how she had found one student's source to be unreliable. A student had done research on "Unemployment Depression" and interpreted a website that was advertising a book as statistical information. You could argue the student was not perceptive, but then, isn't it our jobs to teach students how to evaluate web sources? As this is coming from a woman who has done PhD research, not to mention curriculum development and who knows what sort of committee work/research, I am quite surprised she didn't take more responsibility for this student's mistake.
I'm not saying I taught my students how to evaluate web sources better, either, as this isn't even part of my course objectives in my current class based on the course outline. However, I do want to say that while it is important to focus on critical thinking skills and teach students digital literacy, perhaps we are a bit too focused on the legalistic aspects of our field. And perhaps if faculty were more willing to share their own research methods based on not their current research, but PAST WRITING SAMPLES from their undergraduate careers, then students would better succeed. But this might seem frivolous, as you should be the expert as a professor, not direct students to work you created x amount of years ago.
I don't know. Thoughts on this issue? What are the best ways to teach students, even if there is an obvious gap in learning curves? And, how is it that we expect associate faculty to teach students, but we do not provide them with the resources to do so? I guess it has helped this adjunct instructor better relate to her students, as reduced income is a major concern for my students. I won't even go into the family concerns students have, but then, if adjuncts are expected to be the equivalent of "transient professors" who transverse one county line to another, I suppose I can relate to the ill effects of a broken family (although yes, I have my own traumas from family substance abuse).
On a positive note, I am waiting for a second interview with a local SEO company. These are the professionals who design websites so that you can find exactly what you need when you type in words or phrases into Google, for example. It will be my job to research content for various clients and create web articles that generate more customers. It may sound like advertising, but I will be learning about a variety of topics while increasing my presence in the virtual world. And, let's not forget it is a full-time job with benefits in a thriving industry. Sometimes, you have to see your interests more broadly; just because I am not promoting the benefits of clear writing to my students, I can apply these techniques to web content, right? Perhaps it is time to take a lesson from my own quirks about specific details and use it to generate revenue for someone who may not care about me at the end of the day, but will at least pay me a living salary. Sympathy doesn't get us far, but right action does.
No comments:
Post a Comment