On Tuesday, I got into work late because I spent the morning driving through the snow and going on various wild goose chases at the local community college. (See my previous post.) I almost couldn't find a parking spot at the university and had decided that if I couldn't find a spot in the parking garage, it was going to be a work-from-home day. Between the icy sidewalks and my hip pain, I wasn't up for a long trek. Fortunately I found a spot on the roof of the parking garage.
When I got into my office, my Chair almost immediately stopped by and said "Hi Waning," with a huge smile on his face, so I knew something was up.
...
Let me backtrack.
In August, I mentioned that I was dreading this year like no other. Some of that has to do with a change in Chair and the slow decline of instructor status since that change. But most of it had to do with the fact that I had a rough semester last spring and was feeling very bitter throughout the summer. Most of the trauma centered around a course that I was not planning to teach, but then ended up teaching somewhat last minute. It is a course that I've taught before, but had decided not to offer because I noticed that the enrollment was declining and I wanted the chance to try to develop an online course and teach that instead. The Chair had approved this, the schedule was set, and students had already started enrolling, when apparently the Chair was informed that another department, unbeknownst to us, had made my course a required course for their program and demanded to have it put back into the course lineup. After much ado and reshuffling of schedules, I ended up swapping courses with another instructor so that I could teach this course, because at the time I was actually the only person who taught this course (which is good for job security, I guess).
Unfortunately, this didn't turn out well. For one, I was already trying to develop a new, online course (which, by the way, is an assload of f-ing work), and I basically had to redevelop this course as well - to the extent that it was practically as much work as a new course prep. This meant I essentially had two new course preps in one semester. I usually teach this course in an intense, week-long format; I taught it this way for the first time right before my son was born, so I could squish my fall teaching load into the summer and pre-term session in exchange for the fall off. Even 33 weeks pregnant, it went so well that I've never taught it in semester-long format since then. (Then again, my son was born six weeks early right after I finished teaching it, so maybe it wasn't the best idea, but that's a different story.) When I taught it in this accelerated format, the students were very motivated and focused, and the class was usually on the small side - never more than 40 people. I was also able to give the class my complete attention, whereas when I taught it during the semester, it tended to get somewhat lost in the shuffle.
So last semester, I was faced with teaching this course in semester-long format for the first time in three years, to 120 students who were pissed they had to take it. Since I had never taught this class with more than 60, and in more recent years not usually more than 20-30, I had to redo pretty much everything - mostly based on the fact that there was no way I could do that much grading (keeping in mind that this was just one of three courses I was teaching). I did the best that I could, but in the end that wasn't enough. I don't have the energy to go into the details, but I definitely finished the semester feeling extremely burned out and frustrated by a number of the students, by the fact that I had to teach more students in one class than many instructors teach in an entire semester or even year, by sooooo many things. And then, our teaching evaluations were posted and I pretty much lost it. As people later pointed out to me, they weren't actually THAT BAD; however, they were bad for me. In fact, I've only gotten worse evaluations for one course, ever, and that was my first semester at this job.
I could say a lot about teaching evaluations, but I'll just say a few things here. We are rated on various things on a scale from 1-6, and our evaluations are actually posted publicly. I don't think most people would actually stumble across them randomly, but of course all the faculty look at each others' evaluations, even though no one will admit to it openly. Although everyone seems to agree that evaluations don't tell the whole story, in the same way that the average temperature in Santa Barbara, CA, is the same as the average temperature in Chicago, IL, there's no evidence that instructors are really evaluated based on any other criteria. So evaluations matter. While a few really negative comments seem to be pretty much inevitable, it's still hard not to take them personally. And apparently this never gets better; I've had many conversations with people with 30 years of stellar evaluations who still get really upset over a few bad comments here and there. Probably the hardest part of it was that I usually get a few 1's here and there - again, pretty much inevitable - but this was the first time I've gotten so many 1's. Something a colleague once said to me pretty much sums up how I feel about 1's. He said, "I'm not saying I'm the greatest teacher ever, but I know I'm not a 1. If I get 1's, it's personal."
...
Anyway. I met with my Chair over the summer and told him I didn't want to teach the course anymore. Actually, I didn't go in to tell him that I didn't want to teach the course; I really went in to see if he could provide some guidance/leadership - like... you know how in some places the more experienced people mentor the less experienced people? Just a thought. (Note the sarcasm.) However, he just immediately volunteered that I didn't have to teach the course if I didn't want to, and that was that. Like... oh, your hip is hurting? Let's cut it off! In the end, I agreed I would teach the course in week-long format at the beginning of the fall term, but not in the spring. And then I ended up having to drop the fall course.
Enter: Adjunct to the rescue!
So ever since my fallout last spring, this course has been taught by an adjunct, and seems to have fallen into the category of "class that will always be taught by an adjunct" - at least in the mind of the Chair. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your perspective, many adjuncts eventually realize that they are being exploited, and leave. Which is what happened with this adjunct. After all, it is not difficult to find a job that pays more than $6,000/semester, which is about what this adjunct was making teaching 150 students in my former course + two labs. Since this adjunct had said he would teach the course in the spring as well, it leaves us in somewhat of a bind. And it puts me back into the same situation I was in a year ago. And it is the reason that on Tuesday, my Chair acknowledged my existence, and came into my office and said hi to me for the first time ever. Because now we're back to me being the only one who teaches this course. Unless, of course, we can find another adjunct, which is exactly what my Chair agreed to try to do. So I'm keeping my fingers and toes and eyes and heart and every other body part that can cross, crossed. There must be another sucker out there who can save me.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Turn and Face the Strange
All these years, I thought that David Bowie was singing "Turn and face the change" in his song "Changes," but I just Googled the lyrics, and it turns out he is actually singing "Turn and face the strange." I guess that is just as fitting.
Speaking of changes, I'm not a big fan. I complain about my students who can't stand me, yet sign up for my course second semester just because they can't stand the thought of change, but the reality is that that's exactly the way I am. I'd rather stick with a professor I know I don't like than venture into the unknown. Then again, I do not feel like I ever loathed a professor as much as some of my students apparently loathe me. I guess that just goes to show you that some people are even more change averse than I am.
I was re-reading some of my old journal entries, and three years ago, right after my son was born, I was writing about how excited I was at the prospect of applying to PA school. In fact, my colleague and I enrolled in an online abnormal psychology class at the community college together in the spring of 2012. That (former) colleague is now finishing his third year of PA school, while I'm... still here. So much for change.
I can come up with a few explanations ( = excuses, to be completely honest) for why I seem to have a hard time changing. Perhaps one of them is that it doesn't take a lot to make me happy. I've never been a super ambitious type. Now, just so I don't give the completely wrong impression, I am a fairly competitive, Type A person. I've always gotten good grades and the youthful me excelled in a number of different sports. But I never pushed myself quite hard enough to be as good as I could possibly be. And I'm okay with that. In my adult life, I'm just happy that I have a husband and kids and a house and a car and a decent job. I used to joke that my greatest ambitions in life were to own a house with two bathrooms and a car with air conditioning. I have both of those things now, so what more is there to want?
As I look back upon my past history of Not Changing, I'm finding it difficult to take the first step toward extracting myself from my current job and moving forward toward PA school again. Because, as I've mentioned, there are a lot of good things about my job, and not only that, I am good at my job. The idea of leaving a good job that I'm good at for something that could possibly suck for at least a few years, and that I might not even be good at, is daunting. Or maybe I'm just too lazy to do what I need to do to make it happen.
Anyway. I turned 40 on Sunday, and as a midlife gift to myself, I decided to take a baby step toward making a change. Today I drove down to the community college and enrolled in all the courses necessary for me to become an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician). I had tried to enroll online, but apparently these courses require instructor permission, and of course the instructor was simply listed as "TBA," and I tried calling various numbers, but not surprisingly, there is no single contact person for this program. I figured I might as well just go down to the campus in person and try to hunt someone down who could help me. I eventually succeeded, after multiple runarounds - though I have to say that everyone was very friendly and helpful, which has made me vow to be more friendly and helpful to the annoying people who pop into my office with extremely random questions.
When I finally got face-to-face with literally The Only Woman On Campus Who Could Help Me, the first thing she asked me was whether I had the prerequisites. Prerequisites? I asked what they were. She said there was an exam you had to take showing you were proficient in English and basic algebra. I said I hadn't taken the exam but that I did have a master's degree in biology. She asked if I had a transcript with me and I was like, "Uh... no." Fortunately, at that point, she looked at me oddly and said, "If you have a master's in biology, why on earth do you want to be an EMT?! You know you aren't going to make any money." I then explained to her that I knew that EMTs barely made any money (which is actually sort of frightening - I'd like to think that the person who stands between me and death is making more than $10/hour), and that I didn't really want to be an EMT. However, I was applying to PA school, and several people had recommended EMT certification to me. One of the programs I'm interested in requires 2,000 hours of paid medical experience, and one of the people I spoke to who is currently in that program suggested the EMT route to me. The other program I'm interested in does not require medical experience but is much harder to get into (and a lot of people do have medical experience despite the fact that it's not required). My PA actually suggested taking an EMT class just because she thought it would help once in PA school. She said the academics weren't difficult for her, but that the hands on stuff was more of a challenge.
By the end of the conversation, I had the woman convinced to grant me permission to enroll without taking the exam or producing transcripts. :) She added that it was too bad I couldn't take the Monday/Wednesday/Friday classes because that was the instructor she wanted me to have. She explained, "Most people find her really hard, but I think she's just really thorough." She then added that she often had to cancel the weekend classes (the ones I signed up for) because there weren't enough people, so I should have a Plan B. I told her that I'm actually a little worried about how my semester is going to unravel with four classes to teach and 12 credits to complete, so it won't be the end of the world if I have to put this off until the summer.
But for the time being, I'll just be proud of myself for making some baby steps toward change. I mean, who knows. Maybe I will HATE everything about this and decide not pursue PA school after all. But, it is a relatively minor financial investment, and I have to figure that it can't hurt. It is time for me to at least start pushing my comfort zone outward to see what sort of life might exist for me outside of the bubble of academia I've lingering within for the past 39 years. I think the 40th year is a good time to try something new.
Speaking of changes, I'm not a big fan. I complain about my students who can't stand me, yet sign up for my course second semester just because they can't stand the thought of change, but the reality is that that's exactly the way I am. I'd rather stick with a professor I know I don't like than venture into the unknown. Then again, I do not feel like I ever loathed a professor as much as some of my students apparently loathe me. I guess that just goes to show you that some people are even more change averse than I am.
I was re-reading some of my old journal entries, and three years ago, right after my son was born, I was writing about how excited I was at the prospect of applying to PA school. In fact, my colleague and I enrolled in an online abnormal psychology class at the community college together in the spring of 2012. That (former) colleague is now finishing his third year of PA school, while I'm... still here. So much for change.
I can come up with a few explanations ( = excuses, to be completely honest) for why I seem to have a hard time changing. Perhaps one of them is that it doesn't take a lot to make me happy. I've never been a super ambitious type. Now, just so I don't give the completely wrong impression, I am a fairly competitive, Type A person. I've always gotten good grades and the youthful me excelled in a number of different sports. But I never pushed myself quite hard enough to be as good as I could possibly be. And I'm okay with that. In my adult life, I'm just happy that I have a husband and kids and a house and a car and a decent job. I used to joke that my greatest ambitions in life were to own a house with two bathrooms and a car with air conditioning. I have both of those things now, so what more is there to want?
As I look back upon my past history of Not Changing, I'm finding it difficult to take the first step toward extracting myself from my current job and moving forward toward PA school again. Because, as I've mentioned, there are a lot of good things about my job, and not only that, I am good at my job. The idea of leaving a good job that I'm good at for something that could possibly suck for at least a few years, and that I might not even be good at, is daunting. Or maybe I'm just too lazy to do what I need to do to make it happen.
Anyway. I turned 40 on Sunday, and as a midlife gift to myself, I decided to take a baby step toward making a change. Today I drove down to the community college and enrolled in all the courses necessary for me to become an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician). I had tried to enroll online, but apparently these courses require instructor permission, and of course the instructor was simply listed as "TBA," and I tried calling various numbers, but not surprisingly, there is no single contact person for this program. I figured I might as well just go down to the campus in person and try to hunt someone down who could help me. I eventually succeeded, after multiple runarounds - though I have to say that everyone was very friendly and helpful, which has made me vow to be more friendly and helpful to the annoying people who pop into my office with extremely random questions.
When I finally got face-to-face with literally The Only Woman On Campus Who Could Help Me, the first thing she asked me was whether I had the prerequisites. Prerequisites? I asked what they were. She said there was an exam you had to take showing you were proficient in English and basic algebra. I said I hadn't taken the exam but that I did have a master's degree in biology. She asked if I had a transcript with me and I was like, "Uh... no." Fortunately, at that point, she looked at me oddly and said, "If you have a master's in biology, why on earth do you want to be an EMT?! You know you aren't going to make any money." I then explained to her that I knew that EMTs barely made any money (which is actually sort of frightening - I'd like to think that the person who stands between me and death is making more than $10/hour), and that I didn't really want to be an EMT. However, I was applying to PA school, and several people had recommended EMT certification to me. One of the programs I'm interested in requires 2,000 hours of paid medical experience, and one of the people I spoke to who is currently in that program suggested the EMT route to me. The other program I'm interested in does not require medical experience but is much harder to get into (and a lot of people do have medical experience despite the fact that it's not required). My PA actually suggested taking an EMT class just because she thought it would help once in PA school. She said the academics weren't difficult for her, but that the hands on stuff was more of a challenge.
By the end of the conversation, I had the woman convinced to grant me permission to enroll without taking the exam or producing transcripts. :) She added that it was too bad I couldn't take the Monday/Wednesday/Friday classes because that was the instructor she wanted me to have. She explained, "Most people find her really hard, but I think she's just really thorough." She then added that she often had to cancel the weekend classes (the ones I signed up for) because there weren't enough people, so I should have a Plan B. I told her that I'm actually a little worried about how my semester is going to unravel with four classes to teach and 12 credits to complete, so it won't be the end of the world if I have to put this off until the summer.
But for the time being, I'll just be proud of myself for making some baby steps toward change. I mean, who knows. Maybe I will HATE everything about this and decide not pursue PA school after all. But, it is a relatively minor financial investment, and I have to figure that it can't hurt. It is time for me to at least start pushing my comfort zone outward to see what sort of life might exist for me outside of the bubble of academia I've lingering within for the past 39 years. I think the 40th year is a good time to try something new.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
We've gotta get out of this place...
... 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.
... 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.
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!
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