... or at least I've gotta get out of this place...
... if it's the last thing I ever do.
I can't figure myself out. On the one hand, I'm often an extremely assertive person who has a hard time keeping her mouth shut. On the other hand, sometimes I'm not. Unfortunately, I tend to make a lot of noise about things that don't help me and just get me in trouble, while I tend to keep quiet about more meaningful things. For example, I have no trouble complaining about the fact that our department excludes instructors from important meetings (even when they pertain to courses taught solely by instructors) or that when it comes to things such as hiring decisions and meetings with outside reviewers, we actually get less input than students do, and various other things that basically just make the Chair dislike me. However, despite my occasional complaints, I never ask for anything. I have never tried to negotiate a higher salary for myself, I have never asked for extra money for doing "extra" things, I have never asked for an offload in exchange for doing X, Y, or Z, and yada yada yada. Part of the reason I've never done these things is because I didn't know these are things people actually do; however, after five years at the university, I'm perhaps becoming a little less naive. I've always rationalized the fact that I don't do any of these things by telling myself that at the end of the day, you have to be able to live with yourself. There's some truth in that, I guess, and the stress that things like this would cause me would probably outweigh the $500 or so that might come from them.
But the reality is that I don't do these things because I'm just too scared. I'm scared of the physical act of actually doing these things (which makes no sense considering I don't have a problem voicing my opinion) and even more, I'm scared of what will happen if I don't get what I am asking for. I'm scared of pissing my Chair off and coming across as too needy and getting even deeper on the Chair's shit list than I already am, and I'm also scared that I will be so bitter that I won't be able to function, and I will do something irrational like quit before it makes sense for me to quit.
Here is a specific example. I am in my sixth year right now, which means that I am eligible for a promotion from "instructor" to "senior instructor." In fact, I was eligible to become a senior instructor this academic year, which obviously did not happen. This is the only promotion that NTTF can ever receive, and it basically results in a minor change in title and a small pay raise ($3,000/year). The process of being nominated for senior instructor starts with department Chairs, and is almost always approved with the support of a Chair. It basically requires a letter of support and teaching evaluations from the past five years (mine are good, and even "really good" considering I teach mostly required courses to massive numbers of students - both factors that tend to make evaluations lower). In other words, it's not a highly selective process like tenure or even promotion from associate to full professor. In the large scheme of things, it is a sort of minor thing and I don't care that much, especially now that I've decided that I'm not going to be a lifelong academic. However, this is something that I feel I deserve, and I cannot help but feel somewhat pissy about the fact that my Chair has not put me up for promotion.
While this promotion has been in the back of my mind for a while, it actually only came to the front of my mind after several other people, including the Chair of the NTTF Committee as well as the former Provost of the school, told me that it was ridiculous that I had not been promoted, and that this was an Epic Fail In Leadership from my Chair. They both pushed me to pursue this "injustice" and promised they would try to do what they could from their end as well. The Chair of the NTTF Committee even told me that I could file a grievance for "back pay" after I was promoted (since in theory I "should have" been promoted starting in August). Again, this fits into the category of Really? PEOPLE DO THIS?! Argh. I hate shit like this. I just want to work hard and do my job well and be rewarded for doing my job well. But what do you do when that doesn't happen?
One of the reasons the Chair of the NTTF Committee was really pushing me to pursue this is because apparently the NTTF Committee pushed really hard to standardize the process of promotion from instructor to senior instructor, as well as standardize the pay raise across departments. So the NTTF Chair felt their efforts were in vain if they were not helping people like me. This reminds me of a situation my sister-in-law ran into as a new faculty member (at a different school). She was hired while pregnant and had a baby in her first semester. Of course, she felt that she could not take any time off, since she was only a few months into her new job; however, she was actually pressured to take maternity leave because her school had only recently granted maternity leave for faculty, and those who had fought so hard for maternity leave really wanted her to take advantage of this new benefit. (By the way, maternity leave is not standard for university faculty; at my school, neither TTF nor NTTF have maternity leave.)
With this in mind, a few days ago, in a rare moment of my Chair being in his office and available and me feeling brave, I went in and simply stated that it had come to my attention that I was eligible for a promotion this year, and that I was hoping he would nominate me. He stared back at me with a look that made me want to shrivel up and die, then said that yes, he was aware, and he intended to nominate me (which honestly means nothing except that he can't say no to my face). I thanked him and left. And that was that. And that's probably as far as it will go, because my Chair has a strong record of not following through with things. No one knows if it is because he just doesn't follow through with things or because he just can't say no - like... maybe he feels I'm really not worthy of senior instructor status but just can't tell me to my face. Whatever. At least I tried.
In the mean time, I'm still making plans to exit gracefully within the next few years, which makes a lot of this drama much easier to stomach. Also, I turn 40 in less than half an hour, and I feel like I don't have time to be angry in my 40s. Whether I exit as an instructor or senior instructor is fairly insignificant in my mind, and considering the stupid financial choices I've made in the past, I'm not going to spend much time crying over a few thousand bucks, even if they were deserved. What's the most important thing to me is that I've gotta (eventually) get out of this place, if it's the last thing I ever do.
Showing posts with label salaries in higher education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salaries in higher education. Show all posts
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
A Story of Stuff
(Not to be confused with the real Story of Stuff)
One of the coolest things about my job is that I know a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff. Granted... I know a lot of trivial stuff, but I also know a lot of stuff about (what I like to think is) relevant stuff. I enjoy knowing so much stuff - both the trivial and the relevant. And I'm not bragging; I certainly didn't know all this stuff when I started this job. It is staying on top of my job and trying to answer students' questions and trying to learn enough in anticipation of students' questions that has forced me to stay on top of so much stuff. As an instructor who teaches a variety of courses, I know a lot of stuff about a lot of different stuff (breadth) compared to even TTF, who know TONS (shit tons) of stuff about a few things (depth). In a typical day, I spend an hour or more reading and/or watching videos, trying to come up with material for an interesting and current lecture or trying to come up with a good answer to a student's good question. For someone like me, who has always been way more "book smart" than hands-on savvy, this is a match made in heaven. I basically get paid to learn and know stuff!
Unfortunately, as I attempt to transition out of a career in academia, I realize none of this matters. There is no place on a CV or job application or even an application for an academic program where you can put "I know a ton of stuff." Maybe that's because it doesn't matter, but I like to think it does. I'd like to HOPE that it does, anyway. For example, I've never actually read an EKG as part of my job description, but I understand the cardiac cycle and know what parts of the cycle the waves in an EKG represent, which I have to believe would make it easier for me to learn to interpret an abnormal EKG. I understand how cells divide and the changes that occur on a cellular level that turn normal cells into cancerous, rogue cells, which I believe would make it easier for me to understand exactly how cancer treatments work. I know all the major muscles and blood vessels of the body, I know how kidneys work, I know how a lot of poisons and herbicides and pesticides work, I know what many anemias and leukemias look like through the microscope, I know why once you have malaria you almost never get rid of it, I know why sometimes it's a good thing to not wash your hands so much and even eat poop. I know a lot of stuff other people don't know - not because I'm brilliant, but because this is an unwritten job requirement, if I want to do a good job at my job. I have to know everything in the textbooks I use for my classes and then some.
I should back up.
As I mentioned in my last post, I'm certain that I cannot continue this job for much longer, despite the really great aspects of it. At the risk of coming across as shallow and materialistic, I will say that this decision is driven in large part by money, and my desire to have a career that can comfortably support my family in the upper middle class lifestyle to which we have become accustomed (and which, I should add, is very necessary in the United States, which IMHO is not kind to poor people). I've thus decided to return to the path that got me into the sciences in the first place: health care.
Now, I know, the health care system in the U.S. is pretty much messed up; this seems to be something most people agree on, whether they side with Obama or the Tea Party. In fact, I recently had an informal job interview of sorts with the owner of a very successful physical therapy clinic in town, who asked me why on earth I was interested in working in this "messed up system" when I already had a "good" job. In fact, he was currently getting a doctorate of physical therapy with the goal of someday teaching at the university. I assured him that I understood the shortcomings of the American health care system, but then added that the American university system wasn't exactly awesome either. He about fainted when I informed him of the reality of university faculty salaries.
When I compare my current position to jobs in health care that require approximately the same amount of education (or less) than I have, it is a no-brainer for me. According to Bureau of Labor Statistics, the median annual salaries of selected health care professionals (with required levels of education) are as follows:
Associate's Degree:
Physical Therapy Assistants: $53,360
Bachelor's Degree:
Registered Nurses: $65,470
Master's Degree:
Physician Assistants: $90,930
Nurse Practitioners: $95,070
Master's or Doctorate Degree:
Physical Therapists: $79,860
In the interest of full disclosure, I feel like I should discuss a few things. The BLS does list the median salary of "Post Secondary Teachers" as $68,970/year, close to the salary of an RN, but that does not distinguish between NTTF and TTF. I'm 99% certain that even if I worked for 25 more years in my current job, I would never make $68,000+/year, even with inflation. As I've mentioned before, I currently make $38,500/year on a 9-month contract. As some people love to point out, if I worked 12 months out the year, that would translate into about $51,300/year (still less than many PTAs make, and that is an AS-level job!). Besides, extending my 9-month salary to 12 months is not actually a possibility for me, even if I did teach during the summer. Summer wages are calculated differently, and... it's complicated. Basically my maximum earning potential right now is somewhere around $40-$45K/year, and that is unlikely to change drastically, ever.
When I tell people I'm considering leaving my job, they often act as if I'm crazy and as if I don't know how good I have it and as if a spoiled rotten academic like me has no idea what "hard work" is and could never make it "in the real world" and yada yada yada. But believe me, I've definitely considered everything, including the "hard work" and "real world" factors, as well as the cost of after school care and summer care, which are necessary for most standard jobs. My husband has a "standard job," so I do have knowledge of the "real world." Plus, shockingly, academic knowledge does not prevent having practical, financial savvy as well. And the reality is that there is a really big difference between $38,000/year and, say, $75,000/year (a typical starting salary for PAs in my region), even when you add in things like after school care and working 12 months out of the year. (And by the way, I work a lot during the summer, despite the fact that I'm not paid for it. I actually enjoy working!)
It's not as if I feel my decisions need justification to anyone except myself and my immediate family; nonetheless, I think this is a topic that interests a lot of people. Some of this interest stems from the intrigue of having two or three months off per year, something that many people claim they would happily surrender two or three months of their salary for. The other part comes from not understanding the realities of being university faculty. (And if, in reading this, you become inspired to seek out a job in academia, then kudos to you. :))
I know that academics are notorious for having "useless knowledge," but I really hope that my knowledge is not useless, and that the past seven or so years of my life haven't been a complete waste of time. Considering that many of the courses I teach or have taught in the past are actually courses that are pre-requisites for many of the programs I'm interested in, I am hopeful. I hope the fact that I know lots of stuff about lots of stuff will help me transition into a career where I can actually make a decent salary, enough to keep my family off of public assistance and enough to keep putting money into my kids' college funds.
Regardless, at least I have a Plan B, which is staying where I am. And I have to admit that's not the worst Plan B a person could have. :)
One of the coolest things about my job is that I know a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff. Granted... I know a lot of trivial stuff, but I also know a lot of stuff about (what I like to think is) relevant stuff. I enjoy knowing so much stuff - both the trivial and the relevant. And I'm not bragging; I certainly didn't know all this stuff when I started this job. It is staying on top of my job and trying to answer students' questions and trying to learn enough in anticipation of students' questions that has forced me to stay on top of so much stuff. As an instructor who teaches a variety of courses, I know a lot of stuff about a lot of different stuff (breadth) compared to even TTF, who know TONS (shit tons) of stuff about a few things (depth). In a typical day, I spend an hour or more reading and/or watching videos, trying to come up with material for an interesting and current lecture or trying to come up with a good answer to a student's good question. For someone like me, who has always been way more "book smart" than hands-on savvy, this is a match made in heaven. I basically get paid to learn and know stuff!
Unfortunately, as I attempt to transition out of a career in academia, I realize none of this matters. There is no place on a CV or job application or even an application for an academic program where you can put "I know a ton of stuff." Maybe that's because it doesn't matter, but I like to think it does. I'd like to HOPE that it does, anyway. For example, I've never actually read an EKG as part of my job description, but I understand the cardiac cycle and know what parts of the cycle the waves in an EKG represent, which I have to believe would make it easier for me to learn to interpret an abnormal EKG. I understand how cells divide and the changes that occur on a cellular level that turn normal cells into cancerous, rogue cells, which I believe would make it easier for me to understand exactly how cancer treatments work. I know all the major muscles and blood vessels of the body, I know how kidneys work, I know how a lot of poisons and herbicides and pesticides work, I know what many anemias and leukemias look like through the microscope, I know why once you have malaria you almost never get rid of it, I know why sometimes it's a good thing to not wash your hands so much and even eat poop. I know a lot of stuff other people don't know - not because I'm brilliant, but because this is an unwritten job requirement, if I want to do a good job at my job. I have to know everything in the textbooks I use for my classes and then some.
I should back up.
As I mentioned in my last post, I'm certain that I cannot continue this job for much longer, despite the really great aspects of it. At the risk of coming across as shallow and materialistic, I will say that this decision is driven in large part by money, and my desire to have a career that can comfortably support my family in the upper middle class lifestyle to which we have become accustomed (and which, I should add, is very necessary in the United States, which IMHO is not kind to poor people). I've thus decided to return to the path that got me into the sciences in the first place: health care.
Now, I know, the health care system in the U.S. is pretty much messed up; this seems to be something most people agree on, whether they side with Obama or the Tea Party. In fact, I recently had an informal job interview of sorts with the owner of a very successful physical therapy clinic in town, who asked me why on earth I was interested in working in this "messed up system" when I already had a "good" job. In fact, he was currently getting a doctorate of physical therapy with the goal of someday teaching at the university. I assured him that I understood the shortcomings of the American health care system, but then added that the American university system wasn't exactly awesome either. He about fainted when I informed him of the reality of university faculty salaries.
When I compare my current position to jobs in health care that require approximately the same amount of education (or less) than I have, it is a no-brainer for me. According to Bureau of Labor Statistics, the median annual salaries of selected health care professionals (with required levels of education) are as follows:
Associate's Degree:
Physical Therapy Assistants: $53,360
Bachelor's Degree:
Registered Nurses: $65,470
Master's Degree:
Physician Assistants: $90,930
Nurse Practitioners: $95,070
Master's or Doctorate Degree:
Physical Therapists: $79,860
In the interest of full disclosure, I feel like I should discuss a few things. The BLS does list the median salary of "Post Secondary Teachers" as $68,970/year, close to the salary of an RN, but that does not distinguish between NTTF and TTF. I'm 99% certain that even if I worked for 25 more years in my current job, I would never make $68,000+/year, even with inflation. As I've mentioned before, I currently make $38,500/year on a 9-month contract. As some people love to point out, if I worked 12 months out the year, that would translate into about $51,300/year (still less than many PTAs make, and that is an AS-level job!). Besides, extending my 9-month salary to 12 months is not actually a possibility for me, even if I did teach during the summer. Summer wages are calculated differently, and... it's complicated. Basically my maximum earning potential right now is somewhere around $40-$45K/year, and that is unlikely to change drastically, ever.
When I tell people I'm considering leaving my job, they often act as if I'm crazy and as if I don't know how good I have it and as if a spoiled rotten academic like me has no idea what "hard work" is and could never make it "in the real world" and yada yada yada. But believe me, I've definitely considered everything, including the "hard work" and "real world" factors, as well as the cost of after school care and summer care, which are necessary for most standard jobs. My husband has a "standard job," so I do have knowledge of the "real world." Plus, shockingly, academic knowledge does not prevent having practical, financial savvy as well. And the reality is that there is a really big difference between $38,000/year and, say, $75,000/year (a typical starting salary for PAs in my region), even when you add in things like after school care and working 12 months out of the year. (And by the way, I work a lot during the summer, despite the fact that I'm not paid for it. I actually enjoy working!)
It's not as if I feel my decisions need justification to anyone except myself and my immediate family; nonetheless, I think this is a topic that interests a lot of people. Some of this interest stems from the intrigue of having two or three months off per year, something that many people claim they would happily surrender two or three months of their salary for. The other part comes from not understanding the realities of being university faculty. (And if, in reading this, you become inspired to seek out a job in academia, then kudos to you. :))
I know that academics are notorious for having "useless knowledge," but I really hope that my knowledge is not useless, and that the past seven or so years of my life haven't been a complete waste of time. Considering that many of the courses I teach or have taught in the past are actually courses that are pre-requisites for many of the programs I'm interested in, I am hopeful. I hope the fact that I know lots of stuff about lots of stuff will help me transition into a career where I can actually make a decent salary, enough to keep my family off of public assistance and enough to keep putting money into my kids' college funds.
Regardless, at least I have a Plan B, which is staying where I am. And I have to admit that's not the worst Plan B a person could have. :)
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