Ethical Quandries In Becoming an Adjunct Prof.

from CC License holder at Flickr, Robert the Noid. Note: search "Professor" in Flickr, pictures of men come up. Seacrh "female professor," and you get tarantulas and Harry Potter stuff.
from CC License holder at Flickr, Robert the Noid. Note: search “Professor” in Flickr, pictures of men come up. Seacrh “female professor,” and you get tarantulas and Harry Potter stuff.

I will not be insinuating any wrongdoing or accusing Universities of being slave masters in this post. I will not be bitching about adjunct wages. I am interacting with my reality, forgetting for a moment that things for adjuncts are in real need of intervention.

Adjunct wages are an improvement over my current wages. Especially during the Spring semester. The second-best (or maybe third or fourth or fifth) money I’ve ever made. But it also means I get to do what I love to do, which is talk, read, and write all day long about reading and writing, which makes small money seem like a big deal.

Here are some important pieces of my reality: my student loans are currently in deferment as I finish up my MFA, and I have the privilege of a domestic partnership with a person who is relatively well-employed, so we can (sort of) afford for me to make $20,000/year. Or less. I am also comfortable with working multiple jobs in order to serve my life as a writer, mother, and reader (in that order).

It is my ardent wish to someday be paid a living wage for talking, reading, and writing all day about reading and writing.  To not have to do anything else.

But none of this is why I sat down to write this post.

This week, I had a massive disappointment.

About a month and a half ago, I accepted an offer to teach one section of a literature course scheduled to meet at 9 a.m. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at Tiny-Private-University a bit east of here. I got to develop my own syllabus, which was fun, and I get to teach The Book That Changed My Life.

About two weeks ago, I was hired as a part-time lecturer (fancy speak for adjunct) at Large-State-University a bit west of here.

While each university is 1.25 max hours from my house, they are three hours from each other.

I went to an interview, and exchanged a half dozen or more emails with Chair and Assistant at Large-State-University, one of which suggested that someone would be in touch with me soon “about [my] availability.”

A week passed during which time Tiny-Private-University (which pays only a bit more than half what the Large-State-University pays per section) offered me a second section of the same course, later in the day MWF, which I also accepted. Large-State-Univeresity only promised me one section (but insinuated that there would likely be 2).

When my burning need to have a plan for classes and a life that was to start a week from Monday overcame my ability to patiently wait for communique from Large-State-University, I reached out to Assistant to find out about the training sessions, and to give her my availability, now Tuesday/Thursday. Which was answered with “But, but, all first-semester teachers have a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule!”

Which was the first I’d heard of it.

“Didn’t anybody tell you? I can’t believe you didn’t know!”

How could I know? I reviewed all the correspondence. It was not in the job posting. It was not in the offer letter. It didn’t come up in the interview. It was not anywhere. Why would I assume it?

Which meant I had to decide: probably less money at Tiny-Private-University, a job I had accepted first, developed a syllabus for, and ordered books for the book store; OR, Large-State-University which is sexier AND pays more, but I had nothing in hand and would be obliged to drive there every day for the week before the semester began for training sessions.

I wanted to choose Large-State-University because money. Adjuncts do this all the time: better offer elsewhere, go there. Since these offers are almost always made at the last minute, this is not a thing adjuncts should have to worry about, or feel bad about doing.

But after some time and reflection and weeping (for a lost plan, a lost semester of getting paid mainly to read and write and talk about reading and writing), and after making a mental pros-cons list, I decided that the university to which I felt ethically obliged, Tiny-Private-University, is probably a better professional choice, too.

Here are the primary reasons: Tiny-Private-University has a smaller faculty + student body, which means more entrenchment in the culture, more support, and smaller classes. Developing a Western Euro Lit syllabus that spans the Renaissance through Early Modern looks way, way better on the CV of a trained creative writer than teaching a staff syllabus at a bigger school, even if more money looks better in my bank account. And hell, what’s one more semester of 7-day work weeks?

What do you think? Did I make the right choice? Should I have assumed that I would be required to teach MWF? Is this a normal procedure? In my experience + knowledge, it isn’t. Though my experience and knowledge of adjuncting is admittedly limited. Is it even reasonable for any university to require people to whom they’re not offering a living wage to teach on a particular schedule?

I welcome your thoughts.

What Do You Do with a BA in English?

From Flickr User MrsDKrebs

If you’re me, you spend a lot of time writing, and then go to graduate school, but don’t finish it, and then wait a few years and try again.

I’m so pumped for all of you to see tomorrow’s post.  I think you’re really going to like it.  It is about Child and it is funny.  It is funny because kids are funny, and sometimes they are funny in adult ways but they don’t know why.  It is a thing that makes being a mother a total joy.

But next week, I’ll be at the residency.  I have not posted ahead because I am hoping to make the time to write my reflections on the residency while I am there.  But just in case they keep me too busy writing (which I hope they do), I’m letting all of you know that I might not be on my regular schedule next week.

All will normalize on Monday the 25th.

I know I’m going to have billions of things to share when I get back.


The Writing Schedule: Resolution

Returning to writing with abandon is, as I have noted before, refreshing and fortifying and homey.  But it is not without its challenges.

When last I wrote madly, my life looked a little different.  There was no Brad, and the Pearl was much, much smaller.  I was used to being sleep deprived and I wasn’t getting laid regularly.  Not that getting laid regularly soothes my soul completely, but it certainly helps.

My old writing schedule:  Wake up at early o’clock.  Do the business of life.  Class, Martha Stewart, Cook, Nurse, Change Diapers, etc.  7:30, Pearl to bed, 9:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m., write write write write write, start over.

My new writing schedule:  Wake up at early o’clock.  Get dressed, get Pearl ready for school, make coffee, check calendar for deadlines & scheduled interviews, read stuff that I’m getting paid to read in a damn hurry before 3:20.  Write stuff I’m getting paid to write in the same manner.  3:20, go get Pearl. Do laundry.  Cook dinner.  5:30, Brad comes home.  6:00 dinner, 7:30, threaten Pearl with bodily injury if she doesn’t hurry up and eat 3 pieces of meat or vegetable, then bath time, then bed time, then 8:30 I’m off the mom clock, but I’m on the girlfriend clock, so I watch TV or play Plants Vs. Zombies with Brad, then by 10:00 I’m a mess in my mind & ready to hit the hay.

But now I’m so much back to the writing habits of mind that stories wake me up.  Blog posts, essays, all of it.  I stir in the night.  So I get out of bed, and I come down to my office and I tap tap tap away at the keyboard, but I’m so wasted physically and intellectually that what comes out is generally worthless.

Also, I’m out of a writing community.  I don’t have a writers’ group anymore.  I don’t have writing friends who will read my junk and encourage me and remind me what I remind my clients and students, that it’s not always about writing anything that’s good.  All writing is writing practice.  Inspiration will strike, but in the meantime write write write.  Not that I need the encouragement to write write write.  I would do that regardless.  If my hands got cut off, I would write with my tongue, or into a Dictaphone.

But we all need to feel like we’re not alone, and when one writes, one is often alone.

And sure, I could give up some of my Plants Vs. Zombies time with Brad, but to what effect?  I would be endangering my relationship, and my relationship is the only reason I can have this awesome freelancing life.  Without someone to pay the other half of the bills and hang out with P when the only time a musician can talk is at 7:00 p.m?

I would be back to living in a shoebox of an apartment, scrambling around to get it together, and food stamps.  While I didn’t mind that life, and I enjoyed the different freedom of poverty, I have to pay for college in like 12 years.

I just can’t have it all I suppose.

So to leave you with something more than reverie, I’m going to make this a resolution.  I’m going to challenge you to do the same.

1. Write when I can.  What I can.  I feel like I should be an expert at quieting my unproductive inner editor, but I’m not.  I will anyway.

2. I will be grateful for the time I can use to write, and not worry about needing more, even if I do.