... 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.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Monday, October 20, 2014
Going out with Style
Speaking of possible job changes, I'm having a really good semester. Go figure, right? Of course, I have said in the past that my relationship with my job is pretty much love/hate, with not much in between. I also think a major reason things seem to be going well for me is that I am only working 50%. I started off the semester extremely far behind, due to my mini health crises that prevented me from being as productive as I had planned on being over the summer. However, now I feel like I am finally starting to get slightly caught up, and I am also reaping the benefits of having five years of experience under my belt. I have been completely redoing my lectures, which I'm semi hating myself and semi loving myself for. As a result of foolishly fixing things that ain't broke, I'm never as prepared as I want to be when I go to class. I like to have all my notes typed out, but I just haven't had time. Fortunately, I'm able to lean heavily on the past experience of having taught most of this material a bajillion times already (okay, so not a bajillion, but 12). With this in mind, the thought of teaching this course a bajillion more times in my future is either horrid or wonderful - I can't decide which. On the one hand, it gets, well, kind of boring. And my department has made it clear to me that I will never ever get a chance to do something like develop a new course. On the other hand, the more I teach the same courses over and over, the easier it gets. In 25 years, this could be a pretty sweet gig. Or not.
While I'm still moving forward with my plan to leave this job sometime within the next couple of years, I haven't closed my mind to a miracle that might make me want to stay. Of course, I think a major reason I have been so much happier about work is precisely because I feel like I'm going to be leaving soon. This allows me to let a lot of things go that I wouldn't normally be able to let go of. I feel like I can smile and make small talk with my TTF colleagues for the next few years and secretly bang my head against the wall when I hear through hallway gossip that the department is making huge changes to the courses that I teach without actually asking me what I think about said changes. But I would not be able to keep quiet if I were in this for the long haul.
I think it's a vicious cycle. The department doesn't invest in its instructors or care about their long-term happiness because this is not a position many people stay in for long. In fact, of the seven instructors in my department, only one has been here longer than I have. Our positions are somewhat of a revolving door. But it doesn't have to be this way; instructor retention in other departments is much higher. Granted, in some cases, it isn't because the instructors are treated better, it's because they have fewer options, especially in some humanities departments. As far as respect for instructors, I'd say my department falls somewhere in the middle, so I realize it could actually be worse. If I do leave, perhaps I'm just reinforcing the notion that instructors are not to be considered long-term, permanent employees; perhaps I'll just be making the department a worse place for the colleagues I leave behind. I'd feel bad about that, because I do have some pretty awesome colleagues who deserve better than they get.
Regardless of what the future may hold, I'm in a good place right now mentally. I've had some struggles with ongoing pain in my hip, DVT that doesn't seem to be getting any better, and a couple of medium-level stressors centered around various other aspects of my life. Oddly enough, these things, combined with the many philosophical thoughts that seem to be constantly running through my head as I approach my 40th birthday, seem to be making me happier. I can't even begin to understand why, but fortunately this is something that falls outside the realm of science. :)
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. :)
Friday, October 3, 2014
Two Bottles of Wine
It has been over a month since I last updated, and I have a couple of different excuses for this. The first is that I started this blog to wean myself off of my other blog, and unfortunately, I still have plenty of material for that blog, which I had not anticipated.
The other reason is that when I decided to start this blog, I really thought that it might help me sort out my feelings with respect to my job, and help me decide on a path for my future. As I once wrote in a research paper, my analyses would either "make the obvious obvious," "make the obvious dubious," or "make the hidden obvious" (Source: Michael Patton, Qualitative Evaluation and Research Methods, 1990). I am not exactly sure which of these occurred while writing the few entries that I've written here, but whatever the case may be, I quickly came to a decision, and that decision is that I am not going to continue this job for much longer, which makes blogging sort of, I don't know, anti-climactic? Not that any of you were dying in suspense, lol, but still. So now it's not really a question of if I am going to leave this job; it is a question of when and how. And... what I will do with myself afterward.
I occasionally get cold feet about this decision, but I know it's the right one. In a way, I feel like it has been obvious for so long that there is no way I can do this job for the rest of my working life. On the other hand, I fear change, and as I've noted before, there are many positive aspects to my job that make it hard to leave. If I got just a little more (okay, a lot more) respect within my department and I made just a little more money (or knew there was at least a chance of me ever making more money without resorting to scamming), I could see myself languishing here forever, just because change is too difficult for me.
So I am now in the process of making some big decisions as to what the landscape of my Post University Life will look like, while at the same time trying to stay motivated enough to continue to do my job well. Admittedly, knowing that I'll likely be leaving within the next few years takes some pressure off me, but I know I owe it to my students to do a good job, and I also have a reasonable amount of personal pride. It is a challenge to try to find a balance between not spending ten zillion hours on a course I might never teach again, but spending enough time on it to make it worth the $1,000+ it costs to take it.
As for the title of this entry, the university sent us a message two days ago telling us that we should log on to the portal and review our pay advice, as it was the first payroll for the Academic Year 2014/15. I knew I had actually gotten one of the highest raises possible - around 3%. (Meanwhile the cost of a parking permit went up over 3%.) It turns out that this 3% raise translated into a $26/month increase in my take home pay. Awesome! But, as one of my colleagues told me, "Hey, that's two bottles of wine!" So as I sit in my office trying to work, I find myself humming, Two bottles of wine on the wall, two bottles of wine! Take one down and pass it around, one bottle of wine on the wall... Sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself.
The other reason is that when I decided to start this blog, I really thought that it might help me sort out my feelings with respect to my job, and help me decide on a path for my future. As I once wrote in a research paper, my analyses would either "make the obvious obvious," "make the obvious dubious," or "make the hidden obvious" (Source: Michael Patton, Qualitative Evaluation and Research Methods, 1990). I am not exactly sure which of these occurred while writing the few entries that I've written here, but whatever the case may be, I quickly came to a decision, and that decision is that I am not going to continue this job for much longer, which makes blogging sort of, I don't know, anti-climactic? Not that any of you were dying in suspense, lol, but still. So now it's not really a question of if I am going to leave this job; it is a question of when and how. And... what I will do with myself afterward.
I occasionally get cold feet about this decision, but I know it's the right one. In a way, I feel like it has been obvious for so long that there is no way I can do this job for the rest of my working life. On the other hand, I fear change, and as I've noted before, there are many positive aspects to my job that make it hard to leave. If I got just a little more (okay, a lot more) respect within my department and I made just a little more money (or knew there was at least a chance of me ever making more money without resorting to scamming), I could see myself languishing here forever, just because change is too difficult for me.
So I am now in the process of making some big decisions as to what the landscape of my Post University Life will look like, while at the same time trying to stay motivated enough to continue to do my job well. Admittedly, knowing that I'll likely be leaving within the next few years takes some pressure off me, but I know I owe it to my students to do a good job, and I also have a reasonable amount of personal pride. It is a challenge to try to find a balance between not spending ten zillion hours on a course I might never teach again, but spending enough time on it to make it worth the $1,000+ it costs to take it.
As for the title of this entry, the university sent us a message two days ago telling us that we should log on to the portal and review our pay advice, as it was the first payroll for the Academic Year 2014/15. I knew I had actually gotten one of the highest raises possible - around 3%. (Meanwhile the cost of a parking permit went up over 3%.) It turns out that this 3% raise translated into a $26/month increase in my take home pay. Awesome! But, as one of my colleagues told me, "Hey, that's two bottles of wine!" So as I sit in my office trying to work, I find myself humming, Two bottles of wine on the wall, two bottles of wine! Take one down and pass it around, one bottle of wine on the wall... Sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
New Year's Eve
It sort of is New Year's Eve, right? As an academic, I tend to measure years by academic years (AYs). The beginning of a new AY is always a time when I reflect on what I do well, try to change what I don't do well, and vow to do better.
Of course, this year is already off to a rough start. To recap: I had hip surgery, developed a blood clot, dropped to 50% for the semester, all of which is recounted in ridiculous detail on my other blog. And I have a whole new love/hate story to begin the new year by.
Love: On the one hand, my Chair has been extremely supportive of me and all of my last-minute crises. Finding a replacement for my courses took some doing, and he never once gave me a hard time about it, instead reassuring me that my health was what mattered the most.
Hate: On the other hand, the story behind getting rid of my second course perfectly illustrates the bizarre, behind-the-scenes train wrecks of my work life. Without going into nitty gritty detail, it turns out that we had a new TTF who did not have a teaching assignment for this semester (once again, think dysfunctional department). After much ado, the new TTF agreed to take over my course instead of a course being taught by a different instructor. Interestingly enough, although this problem most directly involved myself and this other instructor, it took two days worth of e-mailing amongst the tenure-track faculty to get this all worked out, and only after they reached a resolution were the other instructor and I privy to any of the correspondence that had been taking place. Furthermore, when it was finally decided that the new TTF would teach my course in my place, the Chair CCed another instructor into the conversation, only because it was expected that we all share our teaching materials with the new TTF. Of course, this instructor had NO IDEA that any of this was going on because she hadn't been included in any of the previous correspondence. She immediately replied, saying that she was happy to help out in any way, but also, "This is all news to me... Is Waning okay?!"
This made me realize that none of the NTTF knew about the situation, which... is weird. Weird, but normal. Normal as in the status quo. Since the department got a new Chair a few years ago, NTTF have not been included in any important dialogue or decisions, even ones that directly affect us (e.g., curriculum changes). Instead, we have to rely on rumors and/or information from a few of the NTTF-friendly TTFs, and then get admonished for bringing up things that we hear through the grapevine because our Chair "isn't big on rumors." (Which leads us to wonder: Is is "just a rumor" if it is actually true?) Anyway. Not that my hip ordeal is big news or even that important, but it is certainly just as important for NTTF to know as it is for TTF.
So, I took it upon myself to send out an e-mail to all the NTTF, as well as some of our staff, and because I can't help being snarky, I started it off as: I realized in the latest round of correspondence that C. had included only the tenure-track faculty (no comment), so I'm taking it upon myself to let you know what is going on. I immediately got a bunch of responses from people thanking me for letting them know what was happening. Not knowing what is going on, or only having a vague idea what is going on, from the grapevine we've been instructed not to listen to, is the NTTF's biggest complaint. I think we all understand that you can't always have it your way, and there are going to be things you don't like (such is life!) but geez, just let us know what's happening at least. As Dr. Evil in Austin Powers would say, "Throw me a frickin' bone here!"
And so it begins. Happy New Year!
Of course, this year is already off to a rough start. To recap: I had hip surgery, developed a blood clot, dropped to 50% for the semester, all of which is recounted in ridiculous detail on my other blog. And I have a whole new love/hate story to begin the new year by.
Love: On the one hand, my Chair has been extremely supportive of me and all of my last-minute crises. Finding a replacement for my courses took some doing, and he never once gave me a hard time about it, instead reassuring me that my health was what mattered the most.
Hate: On the other hand, the story behind getting rid of my second course perfectly illustrates the bizarre, behind-the-scenes train wrecks of my work life. Without going into nitty gritty detail, it turns out that we had a new TTF who did not have a teaching assignment for this semester (once again, think dysfunctional department). After much ado, the new TTF agreed to take over my course instead of a course being taught by a different instructor. Interestingly enough, although this problem most directly involved myself and this other instructor, it took two days worth of e-mailing amongst the tenure-track faculty to get this all worked out, and only after they reached a resolution were the other instructor and I privy to any of the correspondence that had been taking place. Furthermore, when it was finally decided that the new TTF would teach my course in my place, the Chair CCed another instructor into the conversation, only because it was expected that we all share our teaching materials with the new TTF. Of course, this instructor had NO IDEA that any of this was going on because she hadn't been included in any of the previous correspondence. She immediately replied, saying that she was happy to help out in any way, but also, "This is all news to me... Is Waning okay?!"
This made me realize that none of the NTTF knew about the situation, which... is weird. Weird, but normal. Normal as in the status quo. Since the department got a new Chair a few years ago, NTTF have not been included in any important dialogue or decisions, even ones that directly affect us (e.g., curriculum changes). Instead, we have to rely on rumors and/or information from a few of the NTTF-friendly TTFs, and then get admonished for bringing up things that we hear through the grapevine because our Chair "isn't big on rumors." (Which leads us to wonder: Is is "just a rumor" if it is actually true?) Anyway. Not that my hip ordeal is big news or even that important, but it is certainly just as important for NTTF to know as it is for TTF.
So, I took it upon myself to send out an e-mail to all the NTTF, as well as some of our staff, and because I can't help being snarky, I started it off as: I realized in the latest round of correspondence that C. had included only the tenure-track faculty (no comment), so I'm taking it upon myself to let you know what is going on. I immediately got a bunch of responses from people thanking me for letting them know what was happening. Not knowing what is going on, or only having a vague idea what is going on, from the grapevine we've been instructed not to listen to, is the NTTF's biggest complaint. I think we all understand that you can't always have it your way, and there are going to be things you don't like (such is life!) but geez, just let us know what's happening at least. As Dr. Evil in Austin Powers would say, "Throw me a frickin' bone here!"
And so it begins. Happy New Year!
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Welcome to my world!
Classes start in four days. Needless to say, I am more than a little anxious about this. I am making a major change to my class this year - I am ditching the textbook - and to be honest, I'm sort of regretting my decision. I actually have quite a good history with this class considering it is a large, introductory course, so it's sort of stupid of me to change it up. And why should I care if students have to drop $240 on a textbook they won't use that much? That's their problem, not mine. I guess this is what happens when you get bored with your job - you start fixing things that ain't broke.
But of course my major concern is how my hip and leg are going to hold up. My classes are an hour and 15 minutes, so when you factor in getting to class and from class, getting set up, and talking to students after class, you have to figure it's a minimum of an hour and half standing. I have not even come close to being on my feet for an hour and a half. Not that I have even tried, seeing as how that is not good for my blood clot. I guess I've just been counting on adrenaline to help me get through this.
I mentioned to my physical therapist today that I have to teach in a classroom that is across campus from my office, so I'm worried I'll be spent by the time I get to class. I have not successfully walked across campus without a walking aid yet, but I am pretty dead set against using a walking aid once classes start. He asked if I could get a ride - you know, in one of those golf carts. HA HA! I thought he was joking, but he continued on and on for several minutes about how there must be a way for me to get a ride across campus, and seemed genuinely surprised when I told him that there was absolutely zero possibility of this happening. I guess this just goes to show how little the general public knows about the inner life of academia. Just the fact that he even thought it was a possibility that someone might give me a ride in a golf cart across campus so that I could save my energy to teach is absolutely hilarious.
This led to further discussion about how teaching at a university isn't as glamorous as some might think it is, and I further shocked him by telling him that I have to pay $620 for a parking pass, and even then you aren't guaranteed a parking spot. I told him I had to go to work after PT, and given that it was already about 10:30 AM, it would be VERY hard to find a parking spot. By midday... forget about it. He then started to tell me a story, but then sort of backtracked and said, "Nah, I probably shouldn't tell you this." I assured him that I would not be offended by a story criticizing the university; getting crapped on by at least one person a day is pretty much the story of my professional life.
My physical therapist is also a professional musician, which I knew. He said that he once had a gig at a very formal affair at the university, and of course, he couldn't find a parking spot. It also happened to be pouring rain, and he had to unload his stuff, so he made his own parking spot - sort of on the grass and out of the way. Then he went inside to set up all his stuff. However, someone then approached him and told him that the Chancellor had complained that his car was "blocking her" and that he needed to move it. So out he went, in the pouring rain, in a coat and tie, to move his car. Of course he had to park, like, half a mile away, and then hike back up in the rain to do his gig. By the time he got back, he was soaking wet. He said, sort of hesitantly, "Now, I know this woman might be a nice person and all..." to which I quickly replied, "No, she's not." So then he finished, "But I was not blocking her, and I feel like she made me move my car just because she could." I said that sounded about right. So then he went on to say that he was so ticked off that he made a point of going up her, soaking wet and dripping all over their fancy freaking carpet, just to tell her, "I just wanted to let you know that I moved my car for you." Her response? "Well, we could have lent you an umbrella!"
My therapist is extremely calm and mild-mannered and not a complaining type, and I could tell when he finished his story that he sort of regretted sharing it, as if I might be defensive about the woman in charge of my workplace. He looked at me sort of sheepishly when was done, and shrugged, as if to suggest that he wasn't trying to be overly critical. But I just looked back at him and said, "Welcome to my world."
But of course my major concern is how my hip and leg are going to hold up. My classes are an hour and 15 minutes, so when you factor in getting to class and from class, getting set up, and talking to students after class, you have to figure it's a minimum of an hour and half standing. I have not even come close to being on my feet for an hour and a half. Not that I have even tried, seeing as how that is not good for my blood clot. I guess I've just been counting on adrenaline to help me get through this.
I mentioned to my physical therapist today that I have to teach in a classroom that is across campus from my office, so I'm worried I'll be spent by the time I get to class. I have not successfully walked across campus without a walking aid yet, but I am pretty dead set against using a walking aid once classes start. He asked if I could get a ride - you know, in one of those golf carts. HA HA! I thought he was joking, but he continued on and on for several minutes about how there must be a way for me to get a ride across campus, and seemed genuinely surprised when I told him that there was absolutely zero possibility of this happening. I guess this just goes to show how little the general public knows about the inner life of academia. Just the fact that he even thought it was a possibility that someone might give me a ride in a golf cart across campus so that I could save my energy to teach is absolutely hilarious.
This led to further discussion about how teaching at a university isn't as glamorous as some might think it is, and I further shocked him by telling him that I have to pay $620 for a parking pass, and even then you aren't guaranteed a parking spot. I told him I had to go to work after PT, and given that it was already about 10:30 AM, it would be VERY hard to find a parking spot. By midday... forget about it. He then started to tell me a story, but then sort of backtracked and said, "Nah, I probably shouldn't tell you this." I assured him that I would not be offended by a story criticizing the university; getting crapped on by at least one person a day is pretty much the story of my professional life.
My physical therapist is also a professional musician, which I knew. He said that he once had a gig at a very formal affair at the university, and of course, he couldn't find a parking spot. It also happened to be pouring rain, and he had to unload his stuff, so he made his own parking spot - sort of on the grass and out of the way. Then he went inside to set up all his stuff. However, someone then approached him and told him that the Chancellor had complained that his car was "blocking her" and that he needed to move it. So out he went, in the pouring rain, in a coat and tie, to move his car. Of course he had to park, like, half a mile away, and then hike back up in the rain to do his gig. By the time he got back, he was soaking wet. He said, sort of hesitantly, "Now, I know this woman might be a nice person and all..." to which I quickly replied, "No, she's not." So then he finished, "But I was not blocking her, and I feel like she made me move my car just because she could." I said that sounded about right. So then he went on to say that he was so ticked off that he made a point of going up her, soaking wet and dripping all over their fancy freaking carpet, just to tell her, "I just wanted to let you know that I moved my car for you." Her response? "Well, we could have lent you an umbrella!"
My therapist is extremely calm and mild-mannered and not a complaining type, and I could tell when he finished his story that he sort of regretted sharing it, as if I might be defensive about the woman in charge of my workplace. He looked at me sort of sheepishly when was done, and shrugged, as if to suggest that he wasn't trying to be overly critical. But I just looked back at him and said, "Welcome to my world."
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
"It's just work... just f*ck it."
I've been extraordinarily stressed about the upcoming semester. Part of this is normal pre-semester jitters, but a lot of it is due to the aftereffects of my hip surgery that I had earlier in the summer that have made me ridiculously unprepared. (You can read all about it on my other blog.) Now, I'm not going to lie, I never feel as prepared as I want to be at this point, but I really am ridiculously unprepared at this point. I'm also not going to lie and try to blame it all on my hip, as my motivation even before hip surgery was pretty much zero, and I actually worry that I'm using the surgery as a crutch (both literally and figuratively).
But anyway.
My husband noticed my stress this evening and commented on it. I replied that I was extremely stressed about work, for a multitude of reasons. His response was, "It's just work... just f*ck it." And trust me... I GET it. There are times when I do want to just f*ck it. In the large scheme of things, the stuff I have to deal with at work is small stuff, and it is not worth worrying about when that worry is robbing me of valuable, quality time with my family. But just f*cking it is much easier said than done, and I actually had a semi-epiphany tonight in response to my husband's suggestion.
I always try to produce quality work and set reasonably high standards for myself. At the same time, I am not a super duper ambitious go-getter, either. Obviously. As one of my fellow instructors pointed out to me today, "We are plain-bellied Sneetches." I am okay with a position of mediocrity, and I've done plenty of uninspired and mediocre work in my lifetime. But. I can't settle for mediocrity in my current position. For one, it is a mediocre job, and to be mediocre at a mediocre job is too much mediocrity for me. Also, I don't really know how to do my job in a mediocre fashion. For me, it's all or nothing. Some of this is probably because of the nature of my job; lecturing to large numbers of students and then trying to have in-depth conversations with them one-on-one during my office hours really goes against my introverted and somewhat anti-social personality. (As one student described me on my evaluations, I seem "distant and hateful.") I have to put on a completely different persona to do my job; I call it my teaching persona. On any given day, it's either on or it's off. There's not much in between. I just have to work for more on days than off days, because off days are a disaster, and too many off days could lead to me not even having a mediocre job to be mediocre at.
But the thing is... my inability to just f*ck it is more that this. What I realized today is that if I do not do my job well, ultimately, it is my students who will suffer. And I'm not okay with that. As bad as it may sound, I'm okay doing mediocre work for a mediocre boss who doesn't really value what I do. If it were simply a question of writing a report for some jerk who didn't really care about me, I'd be fine saying "just f*ck it" and turning in some BS crap like I did plenty of times in college (though admittedly, I'm a master when it comes to BS - no mediocrity there :)). Or, if I worked in a store... I would totally not have a problem not folding all the clothes neatly after customers messed with them, if I didn't feel like it. I understand the disgruntled workers at the DMV or at X, Y, Z other place who roll their eyes at you when you ask a question, and are totally not helpful - after all, what does it really matter? I even understand all the people who work in food service who say they spit in your food before they give it to you. I GET it.
At the same time, I have a really hard time purposely saying just f*ck it to students. Of course, some of them are complete jerks, and are a major contributing factor to why I want to quit my job on a daily basis, but the rational side of me knows that most of them are not, in fact, jerks. And it is the students who aren't jerks, with whom I make a personal connection, who make me see my job as something worthy of doing.
In my five years as full-time faculty at my school, I've had the honor of interacting with a variety of students. Most of them have a lot invested in their education. And I mean a lot. Many of them are first generation college students; some of them have gotten to college only by way of their entire extended families pooling their money for them, in hopes that one day they will not only be able to have a better life for themselves, but also provide a better life for their extended families. (That's a lot of pressure for an 18-year-old.) I also have a fair number of 20-somethings who joined the military straight out of high school because it was the only way they thought they could go to college. Now, in their late 20s, they have returned from war and have seen things I hope most people (including myself) won't see in their lifetimes. You better bet they are expecting a lot out of their education. I could go on and on about the stories I've heard, but the point is that it is simply not fair to these students if I just say f*ck it to my job. For the average student at my school, it is too much to ask of them to understand my anger over my salary (I'll save salary for a different entry), over my department's dysfunction, and over the unfairness of the university's policies. These things aren't their problem; they are simply trying to better themselves and their lives and the lives of their extended families. And they have extremely high expectations.
A while back, while waiting for my orthopedist, I had another semi-epiphany. I realized that, aside from the obvious fact that an orthopedist makes about $300-$400K/year more than I do, my job is a lot like an orthopedist's job. After suffering for about seven months with severe hip pain, and 15 years of on and off pain before that, I had really high expectations for my orthopedist. I can imagine that my students' expectations of me are similar to my own expectations of my orthopedist. We are desperately clinging to hope - the hope of things being better.
Hypothetically speaking... suppose my orthopedist were pissed off at his practice because he's bringing in a lot more money than he is being compensated for, or what if he were angry because he is working 60 hours a week for X salary, while his colleagues are working 40 hours a week for 2X salary? Or what if he were angry because he didn't get the respect he felt he deserved? Honestly, that's not my problem. When his practice bills me $180 for a three-minute visit, I don't care what issues he might be having with the practice; I still expect him to be able to tell me something I don't already know or to at least just refill my prescription already!
Orthopedists are obviously very busy, as am I. I never set out to be a crappy or mediocre instructor, but the reality is that I have many, many students and there is only one of me. Even with my reduced 50% course load, there will be 150 students and just one me. Unfortunately, some of them will fall through the cracks because it is not humanly possible for me to help all of these students in the way they may need helping. I am guessing it is the same with orthopedics. I don't think my orthopedist set out to be a crappy orthopedist, but just like some of my students, some of his patients will fall through the cracks, and at the moment, it seems as if I'm one of them.
Karma sure is a bitch.
But anyway.
My husband noticed my stress this evening and commented on it. I replied that I was extremely stressed about work, for a multitude of reasons. His response was, "It's just work... just f*ck it." And trust me... I GET it. There are times when I do want to just f*ck it. In the large scheme of things, the stuff I have to deal with at work is small stuff, and it is not worth worrying about when that worry is robbing me of valuable, quality time with my family. But just f*cking it is much easier said than done, and I actually had a semi-epiphany tonight in response to my husband's suggestion.
I always try to produce quality work and set reasonably high standards for myself. At the same time, I am not a super duper ambitious go-getter, either. Obviously. As one of my fellow instructors pointed out to me today, "We are plain-bellied Sneetches." I am okay with a position of mediocrity, and I've done plenty of uninspired and mediocre work in my lifetime. But. I can't settle for mediocrity in my current position. For one, it is a mediocre job, and to be mediocre at a mediocre job is too much mediocrity for me. Also, I don't really know how to do my job in a mediocre fashion. For me, it's all or nothing. Some of this is probably because of the nature of my job; lecturing to large numbers of students and then trying to have in-depth conversations with them one-on-one during my office hours really goes against my introverted and somewhat anti-social personality. (As one student described me on my evaluations, I seem "distant and hateful.") I have to put on a completely different persona to do my job; I call it my teaching persona. On any given day, it's either on or it's off. There's not much in between. I just have to work for more on days than off days, because off days are a disaster, and too many off days could lead to me not even having a mediocre job to be mediocre at.
But the thing is... my inability to just f*ck it is more that this. What I realized today is that if I do not do my job well, ultimately, it is my students who will suffer. And I'm not okay with that. As bad as it may sound, I'm okay doing mediocre work for a mediocre boss who doesn't really value what I do. If it were simply a question of writing a report for some jerk who didn't really care about me, I'd be fine saying "just f*ck it" and turning in some BS crap like I did plenty of times in college (though admittedly, I'm a master when it comes to BS - no mediocrity there :)). Or, if I worked in a store... I would totally not have a problem not folding all the clothes neatly after customers messed with them, if I didn't feel like it. I understand the disgruntled workers at the DMV or at X, Y, Z other place who roll their eyes at you when you ask a question, and are totally not helpful - after all, what does it really matter? I even understand all the people who work in food service who say they spit in your food before they give it to you. I GET it.
At the same time, I have a really hard time purposely saying just f*ck it to students. Of course, some of them are complete jerks, and are a major contributing factor to why I want to quit my job on a daily basis, but the rational side of me knows that most of them are not, in fact, jerks. And it is the students who aren't jerks, with whom I make a personal connection, who make me see my job as something worthy of doing.
In my five years as full-time faculty at my school, I've had the honor of interacting with a variety of students. Most of them have a lot invested in their education. And I mean a lot. Many of them are first generation college students; some of them have gotten to college only by way of their entire extended families pooling their money for them, in hopes that one day they will not only be able to have a better life for themselves, but also provide a better life for their extended families. (That's a lot of pressure for an 18-year-old.) I also have a fair number of 20-somethings who joined the military straight out of high school because it was the only way they thought they could go to college. Now, in their late 20s, they have returned from war and have seen things I hope most people (including myself) won't see in their lifetimes. You better bet they are expecting a lot out of their education. I could go on and on about the stories I've heard, but the point is that it is simply not fair to these students if I just say f*ck it to my job. For the average student at my school, it is too much to ask of them to understand my anger over my salary (I'll save salary for a different entry), over my department's dysfunction, and over the unfairness of the university's policies. These things aren't their problem; they are simply trying to better themselves and their lives and the lives of their extended families. And they have extremely high expectations.
A while back, while waiting for my orthopedist, I had another semi-epiphany. I realized that, aside from the obvious fact that an orthopedist makes about $300-$400K/year more than I do, my job is a lot like an orthopedist's job. After suffering for about seven months with severe hip pain, and 15 years of on and off pain before that, I had really high expectations for my orthopedist. I can imagine that my students' expectations of me are similar to my own expectations of my orthopedist. We are desperately clinging to hope - the hope of things being better.
Hypothetically speaking... suppose my orthopedist were pissed off at his practice because he's bringing in a lot more money than he is being compensated for, or what if he were angry because he is working 60 hours a week for X salary, while his colleagues are working 40 hours a week for 2X salary? Or what if he were angry because he didn't get the respect he felt he deserved? Honestly, that's not my problem. When his practice bills me $180 for a three-minute visit, I don't care what issues he might be having with the practice; I still expect him to be able to tell me something I don't already know or to at least just refill my prescription already!
Orthopedists are obviously very busy, as am I. I never set out to be a crappy or mediocre instructor, but the reality is that I have many, many students and there is only one of me. Even with my reduced 50% course load, there will be 150 students and just one me. Unfortunately, some of them will fall through the cracks because it is not humanly possible for me to help all of these students in the way they may need helping. I am guessing it is the same with orthopedics. I don't think my orthopedist set out to be a crappy orthopedist, but just like some of my students, some of his patients will fall through the cracks, and at the moment, it seems as if I'm one of them.
Karma sure is a bitch.
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