Author Archives: mixinminao

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Adminstrators’ Low Regard of Adjuncts and Their Students

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I don’t know whether to call this an “adjunct moment”, or rather a simply an incidence of educational neglect and mixed up priorities, but at any rate, it’s not one of those “happy” moments.

As an English adjunct at one of the institutions I teach at, I am afforded the benefit of an office I share with at least 20+ other adjuncts in fields ranging from English and Art History to Psychology and Sociology.  It’s not a bad office as adjunct offices go. Most adjuncts don’t have any space at other campuses.   The office has a number of partitioned spaces, a small conference room, and two computers for adjunct use.

It also has a printer, and well…this is the issue.

The college has a longstanding fear teachers wasting resources, which, more plainly put, means “they make too many photocopies for their classes.”  No teacher on campus, whether contract (full-timer or adjunct) has access to a copy machine unless they’re willing to put 20 cents per copy into a library copying machine.  This means submitting copies to the campus reprographic center which demands 24 hours advance notice on any order.

I teach English, and, as any English teacher will tell you, often there are either those moments of inspiration when you see something in a magazine, newspaper, or an article on the internet that you want to use at the last minute, or because, as an adjunct teaching at multiple institutions, you may have simply forgotten to place a last-minute order.

As repro isn’t about to do last-minute orders, this means either going to Kinko’s Fed Ex and sometimes dropping over 20 dollars on copies for a class, or trying to print it out on the adjunct office computer.  Needless to say, most adjuncts head for option #2.   This means the printer, and hence its toner, gets used a lot, and will in fact eventually run out.

Because the school is ever diligent to save money on instruction, (but not necessarily on flashy activities like conferences, which I’ll get to later) anything needed by an instructor, down to a paperclip, must be requisitioned at the school supply room, down to even pencils, staples, and paperclips.  Toners, especially ones for 10+ year old Hewlett Packard hand-me-down printer from the Business office that our office uses, have a special category all to themselves.  Not only do you need to submit a form to get one, but because it’s a “big” ticket item (costing over 30 dollars), both the Dean and Department Chair need to be notified.  Then, because it’s a “special item”, they don’t keep one in stock, and then special order it from a supplier who will usually take a week to deliver it, despite this college is located in the middle of San Diego, California.

The whole process usually takes about two weeks if you’re diligent and apparently have nothing better to do that walk halfway across campus to submit the request then later pick up and install the toner yourself, and email both the Dean and Department Chair.

Unfortunately, the only warning sign one is given when the toner is running out is when the printer stops working, usually when a teacher is time pressed and in the middle of doing a print job.  This is to say nothing of the next two weeks where you either tell all your students to get the material off blackboard, or do the equivalent of that Old Testament practice of making bricks without straw.

Remember that 30 dollars I mentioned before?   At my college this is also your limit for copy orders submitted to repro.  About a month ago, I made an order for 80 copies of 16-page document I did not have an electronic copy of for two of my classes containing approximately 40 students each.  Several days after submitting the order, my assistant chair asked me, slightly annoyed, “why are you making such a large order of copies”?

This week, the school’s newspaper reported that the Associated Student Government spent over 16,000 dollars for a relatively small group of students to stay overnight a high-end seaside resort not 20 miles away from campus, and enjoy relatively lavish meals as part of a leadership conference.

I guess they must be grooming them to be administrators.

My takeaway from all this is that the administrators at my institution care very much about putting out a strong public face using their elite students, but really don’t care that much about meeting the needs of the average students, or at least students taught by adjunct instructors.

And you know what? I’m still waiting for the toner cartridge.

Geoff Johnson, a “good” adjunct.

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“Happy Adjuncts”

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Hello Again “Good “ Adjuncts:

In the midst of all that has been written about the Adjunct Condition, from the years of toil with no contract/full-time position in sight, to the terrible economic, physical, and emotional toll that the Adjunct Condition imposes, I’ve never ceased but to be amazed by an interesting phenomenon I can only refer to as the “Happy Adjunct.”

At a recent union meeting for both a union and a community college that will go nameless, I was speaking to another adjunct rep like myself.  This, by the way, is a rep who has in many instances worked very hard to help adjunct causes.  As it was just a few minutes before the meeting was to come together, I began to speak to the rep about the sad case of Mary Margaret Vojtko, who as readers of the blog and most adjunct activists well know, was the 83-year old Duquense University adjunct, who after decades of teaching was fired from the school, and shortly thereafter died sick and destitute, only to be buried in a cardboard coffin.

When I mentioned the incident, largely to express the horror and anger I felt over the situation, my colleague’s response was “well, but that was a private college” (As we both teach at a public institution with a union, the implication was a sort of, “what do you expect?”).   My colleague then went on to further, “…You know some people complain about what they’re paid, but I was able to get by, and now I have a house…”  At that point the meeting had started, and taken aback by the response, I think I mumbled something about social justice and that was it.

Inside, I was stunned, disappointed, but maybe not wholly surprised.

You see, too many times I’ve been confronted by what I call “happy adjunct” syndrome.  The “happy” adjunct, whether truly happy or not, is the one, who despite of the lack of job security, being clearly paid less for the equivalent work of his/her full-time counterpart, and having little or no health and welfare benefits, presents themselves as having nothing to complain about, and in fact, looks upon others who complain as more or less “whiners”.

For the record, I like being a teacher, and no, I don’t do this job to make money, and yes, with the high rate of unemployment, I am glad to be working.

But I’m not going to play “Shut up.  Be Happy.”

First of all, is it not too much to ask or think about how other adjuncts, whether in our respective institutions or not are our brothers and sisters, and that an injury to one is an injury to all?  Our own division and distractedness allows us to be given less rights than contracts when in many cases we represent the 75% of college faculty.  Do not think that administrators aren’t well aware of this.

Moreover, equal pay for equal work has been a longstanding rallying cry for social justice, particularly for women workers who are still paid less than a man for equal work.   To not ask the same for yourself when you would ask and expect it of others is a moral failing.

And Adjuncts and their family members shouldn’t be receiving their only medical care from the emergency room.

Finally, even if you, as an adjunct, have been able to carve out a life for yourself, could it have been that you: 1)Had a spouse or partner that made more than you and provided the real support; 2) Had extended or parental family support; 3) Had established yourself from your previous career; 4) Don’t have children or parents to attend to and support; 4) Never suffered any debilitating illness or accident; 5) Are still relatively young and healthy?  Many adjuncts have not lucked out in the sweepstakes of life such as yourself.

If you’re not willing to think about yourself, think about them.

…. and stop being so fu**ing happy.

Geoff Johnson

A “Good”, but not a “Happy” adjunct

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In Memoriam: Mary C. Hoogterp (1950 – 2013)

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I did not know Dr. Hoogterp, but I know that as a dedicated adjunct, that she deserves our recognition, in that when many adjuncts retire or pass, they simply don’t appear on the class schedule for the following term.  This was sent to me by a colleague of my in the History Department at San Diego Mesa College:

In Memoriam:  Mary C. Hoogterp (1950 – 2013)

Our colleague Mary C. Hoogterp, Ph.D. has died, on 1 November 2013, from complications associated with leukemia, which was diagnosed in March.  Mary served as an adjunct history instructor for over nineteen years, before being afflicted.

A native of Grand Rapids, Michigan, Mary graduated from Ottawa Hills High School, in 1968. Employment in the Veterans Administration led Mary to move across the country to Albuquerque, New Mexico.  A later transfer to the VA office in Silver Spring, Maryland allowed Mary to reside with her sister Ruth Ashley.  When Ruth subsequently relocated to San Diego for work in computer programming, Mary also was able to shift her VA employment to San Diego.  In time, she started undergraduate studies in the UCSD Open University.  Ultimately Mary entered the UCSD Graduate Program in History, culminating in her dissertation, “Among My Own People: Patterns of Community in Five American Cities in the Early Twentieth Century” (1990), a study which reflected her keen interest in social history.  Dr.  Hoogterp joined the history faculty at San Diego Mesa College in 1993.   Consistent with her scholarship in the US history field, she taught largely US history survey courses, though she also had an interest in offering sections of World History, using comparative world religions as one thematic focus.

Mary was an enthusiastic historian and teacher, both in the classroom and in informal consultations with students struggling with historical geography, trying to understand causality in history, or needing encouragement in writing essays.   A supportive colleague, Mary helped her peers generously, in their times of need.  As a proud union member, Mary served as one of the Social Sciences Department’s Liaisons on the AFT Guild Mesa College Liaison Council.

Central to her life, Mary was active in the Clairemont Lutheran Church, where she sometimes sang in the choir and, for a period, was choir director.

She is survived by her husband Jim Brewer and daughters YinYin and Ruike, as well as a large extended family based in Michigan.

Rest in Peace Mary and my Condolences to your family.  You were clearly a “good” adjunct.

 

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The Myth of the Good Adjunct

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The Myth of the Good Adjunct

To All Adjuncts, Full-Timers, and Administrators:

            Having taught as an adjunct for approximately 11 years now, I’ve undergone, as I feel all adjuncts eventually do, an evolution in how I see myself and other adjuncts, and while I have always felt that I held my colleagues in high esteem, and certainly still do, early on in my career, I was sadly a believer in the myth of the “good adjunct.”

What, you may ask, is the myth of the “good adjunct”?  Well, it’s essentially the belief that simply by the demonstration of great teaching skills and or performing extra service for a given department, school, or institution, that an adjunct will be inevitably awarded the coveted full-time or contract position.  In truth, the path to becoming a full-timer is often Byzantine, narrow, and as one full-timer who happened to become the local union president once told me, “akin to winning a lottery.”

The problem with this myth is that it creates tension and disunity among adjunct communities, grows serious self-doubt and depression in adjuncts, and creates both chronic social and institutional barriers between adjuncts and contracts.

To see this, let’s take the example of Jenny.  Jenny was, through most of her educational career, an outstanding student.  When growing up, Jenny would often not only meet, but exceed the academic expectations put upon her.  Jenny may or may not have gone to a top flight academic institution, but she went to one with likely a very solid academic reputation, and there she did very well, and then went on to graduate school.  She may have done well enough to have even gotten a Ph.D., or perhaps because of marriage, children, other professional interests, or simply, because she ran out of money, had to “settle” for a Master’s degree.  When in grad school, she may have been one of the top students who was “lucky” enough to get a graduate teaching position, which privileged her to teach classes for less than a living wage, which also meant she couldn’t quit her bartending gig, but hey, it was an opportunity…

Anyway, Jenny, with degree in hand, sets out to a get a job teaching in a subject near and dear to her heart.  This may be at a four-year institution, but more than likely, it is at a local community college.  She may have tried to initially apply for a full-time position, and upon not getting the position, decided to apply for one of the many adjunct positions available in comparison to the full-timer openings, which themselves seem like distant, yet attainable shiny diamonds to her.

Now a new adjunct, at maybe not just one, but maybe even three institutions, Jenny plunges into her work with great vivacity and self-assurance.  While maybe not religious, she’s a firm believer in at least one notion of the protestant work ethic that if you simply work hard enough, show great initiative, and are just plain plucky, that coveted full-time position will be yours.  She faithfully attends department meetings, and has a great rapport with the full-timers in her department. Her students, for the most part, like her.  She might go on to join the school academic senate, take on committee or task force work, or do extra time in an academic center helping students, for all of which she is uncompensated, but told she is “appreciated” or “valued.”  She’ll even try to spend hundreds of dollars to go to some out-of-town professional conference with the idea that the knowledge gained therein will make her more “marketable”.

All this work is a real challenge for Jenny, because she may be doing this at multiple institutions and have to either juggle or forgo dealing with family, friends, or even addressing her own personal health.  This may lead to very serious issues for Jenny down the road, like divorce, alienation from her children, depression, diabetes, or heart trouble. Still, Jenny knows that a full-time position for her department at at least one of her schools will be coming up, so she perseveres.

Now and again, Jenny will talk to other older adjuncts, who to her seem either burned out or bitter.  They’re always griping about those “no good students” or bemoaning things from crazy scheduling, to poor classroom facilities, to odd administrative requests.  She may even find herself thinking that the reason they’re still adjuncts is because they’re simply not as competent, or just have “a bad attitude.”  Every now and then, some adjunct will talk about how other adjuncts need to organize, and she’ll maybe agree in principle, but think they’re too radical, undiplomatic, disorganized, and marginalized to get anything done. And anyway, there’s a full-time position opening up at one of her schools.   Certainly, she’s been working hard and will have a shot at getting the position as opposed to those “whiners”.

Jenny applies, and in fact, she’s one of the lucky few to get an interview.  She knows that there were probably more than 100 people who applied for the same job—now it’s down to some 15-20 candidates.  She goes to the interview, head high and proud, eager to show her talents, and she does.  She feels confident after the interview, and so she waits for that call, for perhaps another interview, or the prized job offer.  It never comes.  Another person has been chosen for the job, and in some cases, it may be someone who has never worked at the school before.

Disappointed but not defeated, Jenny repeats this process several times, to no avail.  Increasingly depressed, she complains to one of the old-timers and discovers that they have gone through even more interviews.  Some may have even made it to the final three candidates twice, and yet they’re still sitting in the cubicle next to Jenny in the adjunct office, if in fact, the department or school even has one.  At some of the institutions in which even such recognition is given, she will find that some of her “bitter and burned out” adjuncts have won awards like “adjunct of the year”, and are still serving in academic senate or curricular committees and going to conferences.

Jenny then begins to think about things which she knew about all along, but over time have gotten to her.  She will sometimes have a larger cumulative teaching load at her various schools and make half as much as her full-time colleagues with the same level of teaching experience.  If she’s lucky, she might have insurance, but is often more likely to have only a percentage of her health care plan paid for if she has insurance at all for herself, let alone any children if she has any.  During the summer months, when there is limited work, depending on the state she lives in, there is no pay.  She also sees that she’s been working for years at a job in which she is employed semester by semester, and at some institutions be fired without cause.

However, if she is fired, it’s more likely to be because of budget cuts or low enrollment, because full-time positions are protected first, no matter what.

When she confides in her full-time colleagues about her feelings, they sympathize, because after all, they were “once adjuncts too”.  She’ll also begin to think of things a bit differently.  When she hears how Rob, one of her full-time colleagues, went on a trip to France over the Summer, or how another full-timer, Jane, and her husband just bought a new home in a good section of town, she’ll be happy for them, but at the same time, a bit sad.  She recalls the conversation with other adjuncts of how it’s easy to get good professional-looking clothing at the Amvets Thrift Store, or how one adjunct colleague with three children just got evicted and is living with them in her station wagon.

Disheartened, and perhaps needing to catch up with the rest of her life, she stops going so often to the department meetings, or when she goes, says a little too much about one thing or another, which makes the full-timers in the room quietly resentful of her.  Sensing this, she stops going to meetings altogether, and both she and the full-timers are quietly pleased.  She also scales back her involvement in other work-related activities, doing only those things that she feels are of intrinsic value to her psyche.

In spite of all this, she still loves to teach, but a bit less so over time, and increasingly entertains the possibility of doing something else.  As one full-timer put it to me once,  if she quits she will have “gotten the message.”

However, the problem is that Jenny by now is maybe over 40 years of age, has been an academic for 20+ years, so her options have narrowed considerably. The other problem is that Jenny’s work is still in demand.  Her classes are almost always full and the various schools still want to offer her as much as they can—they just don’t to offer her benefits, job security, or official recognition of a career.

The fact of the matter is Jenny is a “good adjunct”, but it’s highly likely she’ll never become a “good full-timer”.

To all adjuncts, if you have managed to survive at least few rounds of student and teacher evaluations, hold your head high always, you are a “good adjunct”.  At the same time, while taking positive stock of your own self-worth, recognize that the people you work with are “good adjuncts” too.  Moreover, whether you achieve the goal of the full-time position, you are not only a “good adjunct”, but a good teacher, and in this regard, no different from your full-time colleague, who is in fact, a good teacher too.

And to full-timers, as we recognize that you are good teachers, do the same to us in kind, not simply with kind words and paper recognitions, but with concrete steps to either reduce the adjunct nation, or tangibly improve the working conditions of adjuncts, from salary and benefits, to job security, professional development, and departmental inclusion.

Sincerely,

Geoff Johnson

A “Good Adjunct”