Let The Wild Rumpus Begin!

This post comes to you after midnight during the first week of classes.  I have been insanely busy getting all six of my courses ready to go, including attending some very fine sessions offered by the new school.  They had a nice focus on technology and were not only informative and useful, but also fun.  Plus, adjuncts were invited and I know that this invitation is not extended to all those out there in temporary faculty land.  Perhaps later I can share some of these things and let everyone know how they worked in my class, but that will have to wait until I have more time.  However, after these sessions put me in a better mood, I had to make a quick trip into my office at my older position, and this was harder than I expected.  Yes, I have an office space and computer of my own there (I don't at the new school), but it did not feel like "Mine" anymore, and I suppose it never was.  I was only a squatter.

Somewhere this week I acquired a rebellious streak--possibly motivated by the letter telling me that my health insurance would take half of each paycheck, should I choose to continue it--and I made a nice sign for my door.  I went on to Dictionary.com and borrowed their definition of "adjunct" but I cleaned it up a bit and made sure the examples all fit the academic sense of the word.  Then I put it on my door. I haven't been back there since, so I don't know if anyone censored it.  I kind of doubt that, since my office is not located in a main hallway and not too many people pass that way on a regular basis.

I've got another post I want to work up in regards to an article making the rounds, since it directly relates to the kind of coursework most adjuncts do, but I need to catch at least some sleep because I have three classes in a row to teach tomorrow.  At least I can walk to these and not drive an hour and a half.  #AdjunctProblems 

I was Gone, then Syllabus Freak Out

I really should've posted this notice BEFORE I left town, but, being new to blogging, I was thinking about packing and mundane things and forgot.  I spent a bit more than a week camping with friends and family, only to return home and get massively sick with some kind of crud.  As usual, I only get sick when I have mountains of work to do, so I guess I should've expected this.

Of course, I planned to return from my little vacation and write syllabi for my newly added teaching gig since they have given us a deadline for syllabi approval, but whatever I caught made me sick, sleepy, and stupid:  Triple S Syndrome.  All the while I KNEW I needed to be working but I could not think coherently.  As the week progressed, I snatched a couple hours here and there to browse the books that were assigned to me for the courses and at least select texts I might use.  Finally, by Saturday I was ready and well enough to attack the syllabi.  Well, I wasn't really ready but I could not put it off any longer.  (Add one crazy toddler who was also sick to the mix and a picture may emerge of how ridiculous my week was and how hard it is to get any time to work!)

Luckily I had some sample syllabi from both the new department and my good friend who not only taught the same courses for this school before, but actually is responsible for me even getting the job.  I also have his cell phone number and praises be for the convenience of text messaging though I'm reasonably sure he might block me now.  The worst part, when I opened what I thought were just template files from the department, I could see they were bureaucratic nightmares.  Pages and pages of policy, objectives, and rubrics.  Now, we had a training about writing assignments there, but we saw none of these that day nor did anyone explain this mess.  I opened my friend's syllabus to see how he'd handled it and there were all the same policies, just in a different font with better spacing.  (Confession time:  I'm really organized with syllabi and the illogical arrangement of these templates was killing me.  There were pieces that should logically have been adjacent but were pages apart.  I also had an email telling me not to mess with the order of parts, so..... frustration.  Clarity?  Goodbye!)

Since I work better with hard copy, I decided to print one whole syllabus from my friend:  no ink in the @#&^!? printer.  It was late on Saturday and many things were closed, therefore across town I went with my empty ink cartridge--so I could remember which one to get--to Staples and bought the very last #17 Lexmark for my sorry old printer.  I was going to buy two but they didn't have two.  Instead I wandered in the electronics and cool doodads sections for awhile fighting off the urge to either weep like a fiend or start shrieking like a worse fiend.  I HATE being under stress to get things like this done.  I wanted to write REALLY GOOD SYLLABI for new classes and here I was flailing around at the almost-last-minute with some sort of tangle of rules and regulations to teach texts I didn't pick out.  Eventually, I checked out, went by a coffee place on the way home and returned.

Okay, I fantasized about just keeping on driving until I ended up somewhere cool that didn't have the expectation of me making silk purses out of sow's ear syllabi, but I didn't do it.  I went home and back to work.

Once I broke the barrier of the bureaucracy, thanks to my friend's explanation of why it was all there, and I successfully placed it into a blank document, it seemed doable.  I went through and highlighted the section headings that still needed my specific input and tidied up the other stuff as best I could without altering either its content or order.  Once it LOOKED better, I felt better.  Then I grabbed my first text and made a list of my chosen selections.  After that, it was a matter of fitting those into the calendar while making room for required presentations and other assignments dictated by the department.  I had my friend's work as an exemplar, which made me feel like I wasn't out in left field with the dandelions, so I ended my day early on Sunday morning with one done and a clearer plan of attack for the other two.

Sunday late morning I finished the second by pasting my already tidied up policy pieces into the template for that course, made my text selection list, and quickly knocked that one out.  To be fair, it was a condensed seven-week course, but progress is progress.  Every victory counts.

After a break to buy groceries, feed family members who for some reason always need to eat, and do some minor household tasks, I returned to my desk to tackle the Last New Syllabus.  Using my now trusty method I finished it in record time and even heckled my friend to find where/how to look up course lists, rooms, and workshop scheduling.  Yeah, no one told me that either.  #adjunctproblems

So here it is, 4:19 a.m. on Monday morning.  I've sent my three syllabi for approval hours ago when it was still Sunday.  I even went into my old files and updated my three syllabi for my old job so that they're pretty much ready. I requested five workshops for that crew and now I wait.  The pessimist in me says I'll be told to do complete rewrites of the new syllabi and that all my workshop requests will only be able to be scheduled using my third choice dates/times, but that's how I am.  The glass isn't half full, in fact, my water glass is kind of empty and I should probably try to snatch a few hours' sleep.  The bigger child has to be at band camp later this morning.

The Contract Teacher / Adjunct Life

"Who Teaches University Students? Contract teachers" by Craig McFarlane

A couple weeks ago I ran across this article from The Globe and Mail, and while it is written by a Canadian adjunct, it is not unrelated to concerns of American temporary faculty.  I did mean to write about it right away, but then I had three jobs to apply for and kind of got sidetracked.  This, too, is part of the adjunct lifestyle:  even though I have theoretically landed work at two schools for this fall, I never stop looking.  I never am set.  None of the jobs that I have are guaranteed to be there next year, and one of them is so far only for this coming fall.  I still hope and still peruse the sites for permanent jobs in my area of specialty.  Heck, I don't even care if they're tenure-track, but just permanent.  Something that I can plan my life around more than a nine-month academic year at a time!  Three jobs came up in the search and I applied for all three.  Are they in places I would like to live?  I'm not sure.  I experienced the usual rollercoaster of excitement at finding a posting followed by the dread of "What if I have to go there for an interview?" (flights are expensive/maybe they'll let me Skype/I'm a freaking idiot).  Every single time this happens to me.  It isn't that I don't want to leave, but it is the logistics of doing so and, with these three jobs, on very short notice in order to start the fall year at those schools.

Why, you might be wondering, would someone with a PhD be IN such a situation? Wouldn't that be enough education to ensure employment? Maybe in the past, but that is no longer the reality for many terminal degree holders, especially in the US.  The stereotype of the tenured professor with the lovely home, sabbaticals in exotic locales, is not the reality of most instructors today.  Certainly, some of that caste still exist, but as Craig McFarlane writes concerning the adjunct
                     This secondary class of teachers, however, are already teaching most undergraduate classes at     
                     North American universities. The vast majority of “professors” in North America are called  
                     adjuncts, or contract instructors, or sessionals. According to the American Association of 
                     University Professors, only 24 per cent of faculty are tenured or tenure-track, and a recent    
                     Canadian study estimated that less than 25 per cent of doctoral students will end up with 
                     tenure-track jobs.
High salaries and paid leave are as believable as unicorns and the tooth fairy to us.  Most adjuncts genuinely love the work of teaching--they'd have to because no one would do so otherwise.  Though I had the luxury of full-time health benefits at my former full-time temp position, I no longer do.  Due to budget cuts or some other unnamed reason, no full-time people were hired in that school's largest department.  The classes are there and they need to be taught, but we will not be getting them.  I find this wryly amusing.  I could, quite easily, look up the salaries of my dean, any of the various vice presidents, and the president himself.  I'm sure they're astounding.  I did look a couple of years ago, but I honestly can't take that much reality right now.

The truth is that colleges and universities would not exist without the students who come to them to learn.  Yes, I know some come to play on teams and some come to get the college social experience, but all those people must keep a certain GPA or they are gone.  However, it is classroom space and instructors that seem to be getting fewer and fewer of the budget dollars.  In our state, our governor has chopped away at education expenditures while giving more to police, prisons, and businesses.  Less state money means higher tuition for families, but this higher price tag, controversially, could be getting them less education for their money.  With these budget factors, administrators look for any way to save  and the ability to offer on-line courses looks like a golden bullet answer.  It is here that McFarlane provides a startling insight:
                   What is not frequently mentioned in the praise of online courses is the completion rate. CS50x  
                   Introduction to Computer Science I, Harvard’s largest online course, had an enrollment of  
                   150,349 students. Of those 150,349 students, only 1388 of them completed the course. That 
                   is a completion rate of 0.9 per cent. If my courses had a completion rate of 0.9 per cent, I would  
                   have been fired long ago –- and justly so. Fortunately, the completion rates for my courses are 
                   well higher than that, often above 90 per cent. And almost 100 per cent of the students who 
                   took the on-campus version of Harvard’s computer course finished it.
It seems that, though these courses allow for far more enrollment than could fit in a physical classroom space, they do not allow for much classroom community that might aid in student retention.  The large on-line classes make lots of money for the school, but what about the students? If they must take it again, they have to pay again.  Retakes, whether a student fails or withdraws, are the same price as the original.  Like the author of this article, I also pride myself on high retention rates in my classes.  If I start with 28 students, I want to finish with 28 students.  I don't care who they were before, because once they enter my class they are my students.  I care about their learning and what becomes of them.  I worry when students are absent and when they disappear completely.  I have been known to track people down.  Who could possibly keep track or reengage students teaching several sections of this on-line style?  It makes money, yes, but at what cost to both students and faculty?

So what will become of higher education in North America? I don't have that answer but I guess we'll see.  I've given myself one more year on the job market to find a place.  I don't think I can live this life many more months.  I'm looking at a 1 hour 21 minute commute each way (about 60 miles) three days a week.  I will teach six classes total over the course of the semester.  Personally, I hold myself to a high standard and never like to do a job halfway, and I just don't know if that's sustainable in this environment.

Sometimes I Just Have to Write

I've been thinking about starting a blog for some time, even going so far as to seek some opinions on my title.  The few that answered liked it, so I kept it.  Why, you may ask, "The Unarmed Education Mercenary"?  Isn't that contradictory?  Perhaps.  I'm playing with several ideas here and I promise that I'll try to be more focused than I am on some social media.  For instance, I will lay off the hockey talk here.  I'm not going to tell you all about me to start with. Just like in real friendships, you'll learn as we go.

Unarmed:  I chose this word in response to the wild aftermath of the Sandy Hook school shooting in December of 2012.  That shooting occurred on my last day of finals for the semester.  In fact, I had no idea it had even happened until the last students were finishing up their writings and I flipped my phone on to see early reports of a school shooting.  Only later, after going home and having time to read more did I understand the horrific-ness of what had happened.  Then began all sorts of crazy talk, the most insane of which was to arm teachers.  Do what now?  Had these people met teachers?  There's more than one I can recall from both high school and college that I wouldn't want within 100 yards of a firearm!  Seriously.  Let's not even get into some of the colleagues I've taught with....not everyone is stable.  As to me, I grew up in a hunting culture and was taught gradually, over many years, proper respect, techniques, and safety.  It wasn't something I learned in a two week crash course!  Good grief we can't even afford books in some schools so how in the heck are we going to afford guns and training?!  Anyway, arming teachers is absurd to me and even though I know how to shoot, I would not carry a weapon to school.  I was trained to take a careful shot, with time and practice.  I was not trained to shoot in high stress and/or hostage situations.  I'm not saying I couldn't do that, but I am saying it isn't the same thing.

Education:  Teaching is what I have been trained to do.  I have a degree in that and it is what I have been doing on and off since 2001.  It is my calling.  I do this work because I love it.  I certainly didn't get into it to get rich, although I did expect to be able to make a living.  I read about it, I talk about it, and I do it.  I have worked in several other fields, but even in those I found myself being asked to teach or train others for the jobs they needed to do.

Mercenary:  This word refers to my status as an adjunct faculty member.  I just read earlier today that we're now in the majority.  I wish that statistic meant that adjunct faculty were treated better nationwide, but it doesn't.  Until recently I though of myself as one of the lucky ones in the temporary faculty field:  I was able to maintain a full-time job with good wages and benefits.  However, this coming year my place of employment cut all temps to just under full-time and I had to find some extra classes to make up for the lost money. Thanks to a good friend, I managed to do this, but now I join the legions of highway heroes traveling between schools in order to make ends meet.  I still apply for full-time, permanent work, but I read the articles and reports:  the outlook people like me isn't the best.  There are a lot of hired gun adjuncts out there holding the United States' higher education system together.  (I also like the play of the word "mercenary" against "unarmed" in the title.)

That's the explanation.  I hope to post here at least once a week.  That may be setting the bar a bit high come fall.  I just received all my schedules for my schools and let's just say things will be a challenge.

GracieG