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!
Showing posts with label recovery from hip arthroscopy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recovery from hip arthroscopy. Show all posts
Sunday, August 24, 2014
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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