[blind-democracy] Adjunct Professor Teaches 5 Classes, Earns Less Than Pet-Sitter | PopularResistance.Org

  • From: Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Thu, 25 Jun 2015 09:43:51 -0400

Adjunct Professor Teaches 5 Classes, Earns Less Than Pet-Sitter |
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Adjunct Professor Teaches 5 Classes, Earns Less Than Pet-Sitter |
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Adjunct Professor Teaches 5 Classes, Earns Less Than Pet-Sitter

It's hard out here for an academic. Really, really hard. Photo by National
Adjunct Walkout Day

It's hard out here for an academic. Really, really hard. Photo by National
Adjunct Walkout Day

Like most university teachers today, I am a low-paid contract worker. Now
and then, a friend will ask: "Have you tried dog-walking on the side?" I
have. Pet care, I can reveal, takes massive attention, energy and driving
time. I'm friends with a full-time, professionally employed pet-sitter who's
done it for years, never topping $26,000 annually and never receiving health
or other benefits.

The reason I field such questions is that, as an adjunct professor, whether
teaching undergraduate or law-school courses, I make much less than a
pet-sitter earns. This year I'm teaching five classes (15 credit hours,
roughly
comparable to the teaching loads of some tenure-track law or business school
instructors). At $3,000 per course, I'll pull in $15,000 for the year. I
work year-round, 20 to 30 hours weekly - teaching, developing courses and
drafting syllabi, offering academic advice, recommendation letters and
course extensions for students who need them. As I write, in late June, my
students are wrapping up their final week of the first summer term, and the
second summer term will begin next week.

I receive no benefits, no office, no phone or stipend for the basic
communication demands of teaching. I keep constant tabs on the media I use
in my classes; if I exhaust my own 10GB monthly data plan early, I lose
vital time for online discussions with my students. This, although the
university requires my students to engage in discussions about legal issues
and ethics six days a week, and I must guide as well as grade these
discussions.

Three of my Philadelphia-area friends are adjuncts with doctorate degrees.
One keeps moving to other states for temporary teaching posts. The others
teach at multiple sites to keep afloat financially - one at no less than
seven colleges and universities.

Having heard all my life about solid "government job" benefits, I figured I
might have more stability, and still be able to handle teaching, if I worked
for the Post Office. I started carrying mail in early January. As a
City Carrier Assistant, I earned less pay than regular postal carriers do,
though I did more than "assist": my job was to handle absentee carriers'
routes. I had no medical insurance, no sick leave allowance and had to agree
to work as much as managers deemed necessary
for 360 consecutive days (whereupon I could sign up for a second 360-day
contract, with no promise that it would bring me any closer to a permanent
job offer). I worked on Sundays too, under the US Postal Service's contract
with Amazon.com. With human flaws - I fell on ice more than once - I was no
match for
the drones Amazon intends to deploy. After two months on the job, which was
long enough to develop a lifetime fear of Rottweilers, I was behind in my
university work. I turned in my cap.

In late March, I started a retail job. It offers real days off, and I expect
to be eligible for health and dental benefits soon.

Last week, a friend came in to shop, saw me, and exclaimed, loud enough for
all to hear: "What are
you doing here?" Friends who know I hold two law degrees and teach at a
university can't fathom that my teaching doesn't cover rent. Some writers
have discussed adjuncts waiting tables or bagging groceries alongside their
students as though it's the ultimate degradation. I see things differently.
I'm trained by the people who deliver parcels, serve meals and bag groceries
and who might, any day, apply to take my courses. I am their equal, and I
know it at a level most established faculty members do not.

Faculty members do not even interact with each other as equals. Most
adjuncts aren't included in regular faculty meetings, let alone conferences
where ideas are exchanged and explored. A concept called the
inclusive fees campaign seeks to make conferences affordable for adjuncts.
(It focuses on PhDs, but could encompass teachers whose positions require
law degrees or other alternative qualifications.) "Inclusivity" for a
systematically exploited group is only a patch. But it's good to see
established professors challenged to acknowledge contingent workers, who now
comprise the preponderance of the faculty community. Yes, of the 1.2m
instructional staff appointments in US higher education, 76% - more than
900,000 -
are now contingent.

We are working for institutions that claim to open doors to career
opportunities even as they etch contingency into their hiring practices. The
significance of the inclusive fees campaign lies in its implicit question:
how will the schools hear our voices over the silence of the tenured?

Even more daunting than the dearth of dollars is the fragmentation of the
adjunct's time. Recently, an editor at the University of Oregon School of
Law asked if I'd be a conference panelist. Can I travel, yet still clock
enough hours at my second job to stay above the threshold for health
insurance?

Every day I live two people's lives, and it's fatiguing. Every day I need
more time with students while being pulled away from them.

The best that could come of the adjunct crisis is a teaching community
broadly committed to the civility and inclusivity we've been missing. This
could lead to a new kind of education, based not on ranking, not on status,
but on genuine guidance for living with decency and respect on this planet.

A conference on this is well overdue - and I don't want to miss it while
watching the time clock.
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Adjunct Professor Teaches 5 Classes, Earns Less Than Pet-Sitter |
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https://www.popularresistance.org/adjunct-professor-teaches-5-classes-earns-
less-than-pet-sitter/

Adjunct Professor Teaches 5 Classes, Earns Less Than Pet-Sitter

It's hard out here for an academic. Really, really hard. Photo by National
Adjunct Walkout Day

It's hard out here for an academic. Really, really hard. Photo by National
Adjunct Walkout Day

Like most university teachers today, I am a low-paid contract worker. Now
and then, a friend will ask: "Have you tried dog-walking on the side?" I
have. Pet care, I can reveal, takes massive attention, energy and driving
time. I'm friends with a full-time, professionally employed pet-sitter who's
done it for years, never topping $26,000 annually and never receiving health
or other benefits.

The reason I field such questions is that, as an adjunct professor, whether
teaching undergraduate or law-school courses, I make much less than a
pet-sitter earns. This year I'm teaching five classes (15 credit hours,
roughly
comparable to the teaching loads of some tenure-track law or business school
instructors). At $3,000 per course, I'll pull in $15,000 for the year. I
work year-round, 20 to 30 hours weekly - teaching, developing courses and
drafting syllabi, offering academic advice, recommendation letters and
course extensions for students who need them. As I write, in late June, my
students are wrapping up their final week of the first summer term, and the
second summer term will begin next week.

I receive no benefits, no office, no phone or stipend for the basic
communication demands of teaching. I keep constant tabs on the media I use
in my classes; if I exhaust my own 10GB monthly data plan early, I lose
vital time for online discussions with my students. This, although the
university requires my students to engage in discussions about legal issues
and ethics six days a week, and I must guide as well as grade these
discussions.

Three of my Philadelphia-area friends are adjuncts with doctorate degrees.
One keeps moving to other states for temporary teaching posts. The others
teach at multiple sites to keep afloat financially - one at no less than
seven colleges and universities.

Having heard all my life about solid "government job" benefits, I figured I
might have more stability, and still be able to handle teaching, if I worked
for the Post Office. I started carrying mail in early January. As a
City Carrier Assistant, I earned less pay than regular postal carriers do,
though I did more than "assist": my job was to handle absentee carriers'
routes. I had no medical insurance, no sick leave allowance and had to agree
to work as much as managers deemed necessary
for 360 consecutive days (whereupon I could sign up for a second 360-day
contract, with no promise that it would bring me any closer to a permanent
job offer). I worked on Sundays too, under the US Postal Service's contract
with Amazon.com. With human flaws - I fell on ice more than once - I was no
match for
the drones Amazon intends to deploy. After two months on the job, which was
long enough to develop a lifetime fear of Rottweilers, I was behind in my
university work. I turned in my cap.

In late March, I started a retail job. It offers real days off, and I expect
to be eligible for health and dental benefits soon.

Last week, a friend came in to shop, saw me, and exclaimed, loud enough for
all to hear: "What are
you doing here?" Friends who know I hold two law degrees and teach at a
university can't fathom that my teaching doesn't cover rent. Some writers
have discussed adjuncts waiting tables or bagging groceries alongside their
students as though it's the ultimate degradation. I see things differently.
I'm trained by the people who deliver parcels, serve meals and bag groceries
and who might, any day, apply to take my courses. I am their equal, and I
know it at a level most established faculty members do not.

Faculty members do not even interact with each other as equals. Most
adjuncts aren't included in regular faculty meetings, let alone conferences
where ideas are exchanged and explored. A concept called the
inclusive fees campaign seeks to make conferences affordable for adjuncts.
(It focuses on PhDs, but could encompass teachers whose positions require
law degrees or other alternative qualifications.) "Inclusivity" for a
systematically exploited group is only a patch. But it's good to see
established professors challenged to acknowledge contingent workers, who now
comprise the preponderance of the faculty community. Yes, of the 1.2m
instructional staff appointments in US higher education, 76% - more than
900,000 -
are now contingent.

We are working for institutions that claim to open doors to career
opportunities even as they etch contingency into their hiring practices. The
significance of the inclusive fees campaign lies in its implicit question:
how will the schools hear our voices over the silence of the tenured?

Even more daunting than the dearth of dollars is the fragmentation of the
adjunct's time. Recently, an editor at the University of Oregon School of
Law asked if I'd be a conference panelist. Can I travel, yet still clock
enough hours at my second job to stay above the threshold for health
insurance?

Every day I live two people's lives, and it's fatiguing. Every day I need
more time with students while being pulled away from them.

The best that could come of the adjunct crisis is a teaching community
broadly committed to the civility and inclusivity we've been missing. This
could lead to a new kind of education, based not on ranking, not on status,
but on genuine guidance for living with decency and respect on this planet.

A conference on this is well overdue - and I don't want to miss it while
watching the time clock.
Adjunct Professor Teaches 5 Classes, Earns Less Than Pet-Sitter |
PopularResistance.Org f


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