A new commenter, Fubecona, left an impassioned comment on this post yesterday, and I was just going to comment in response, but then I realized that it was probably better to make this its own post. Up front, I just want to say clearly and for the record that this I am only speaking from my experience here – I’m not some sort of spokesperson for all institutions or all tenured faculty members or some bearer of The Truth about How All Hiring Committees Work and about How All Hiring Decisions Are Made. But as much as I’m only one person, with my own perspective, I still think it’s worth it to discuss these issues in a public forum, as honestly as I can – mainly because I think that it’s not helpful for tenured folks to keep quiet while a whole separate (and oftentimes not entirely informed) conversation happens amongst people who are off the tenure-track. If it’s true that we’re all colleagues (and yes, this is what I believe), then we should be talking to one another and sharing information as we have it. So this is my attempt to foster that conversation.
So, I wrote this in my previous post: “When we hire for the t-t, we aren’t interviewing somebody because they’ve already had a crushing workload, so there is no BENEFIT to doing that to yourself.” I suggested that one could look equally good to us as a teacher by just keeping one’s hand in by teaching one class a semester and working at some other job that would give one benefits and money – a day-job if you will.
Fubecona responded:
“Do these hiring committees ever stop to consider that adjuncts do this so they can feed their children, pay their rent, buy their children clothes for school, pay for gas etc.? People who are adjuncting at 3 or 4 schools and teaching 5-6 courses aren’t doing it because they want to have a “crushing workload” or think it will look good on their resume. They are doing it out of economic necessity plain and simple. And why should that be a negative? Also, getting a “day job” in the current market isn’t any easier than getting a TT position, so the assumption that a person can just easily switch to another field and cut back to one course a semester is a naïve one. Oh, and on that point, is it really better that a person leave academia for a “day job” and only teach one class, than for them to plug away at 3 or 4 adjuncting positions? Why does that make a person a better candidate for a TT position than adjuncting? Isn’t it better to have a person dedicated to teaching than someone who treats it as a side job—or if not better, at least just as valuable? I don’t understand that one.
What’s so disturbing to me about all of these discussions about how hiring committees choose their new hires is the seeming lack of humanity. It’s like they’re searching for a robot that they can program to their own specific needs and that was “built” following a very specific blueprint (no deviations from said blueprint allowed). If you have had the misfortune of life getting in the way of your career goals, as it sometimes does, it seems you’re screwed.”
First things first: I need to clarify what I was saying (inarticulately) in the initial post, and what I wasn’t saying. What I was saying is this: at my institution, which is teaching-focused, when we hire for the tenure-track, we are not just looking at teaching. Why not? Because, regardless of what the faculty handbook says about teaching being 50% of one’s workload on the tenure-track, the reality is that it’s probably more like 30% of one’s total workload. And teaching will not get you tenure. Not even here. And when we hire for a tenure-track position, we hire with the tenure process in mind.
For this reason, while teaching is one piece of what we’re looking for, and it is important to demonstrate that one won’t be at a loss when one enters the classroom, a candidate can do that by having a consistent record of teaching, which doesn’t require quantity. At a certain point, accumulating courses taught on one’s cv has diminishing returns in terms of marketability. Teaching more and more and more classes doesn’t make a candidate look like a “better” teacher (and teaching multiple sections of comp semester after semester, for example, doesn’t do anything for a candidate who is applying for a literature position), and it can get in the way of the other essential qualities that successful candidates possess, like strong scholarship and the ability to do administrative and service tasks. Not because teaching a lot of classes in itself means that you can’t do the other stuff – just that teaching is intense and exhausting work, work that is made even more difficult when one is in a contingent position without adequate resources. If teaching is going to get in the way of publishing, or if it is going to get in the way of developing the administrative skill set that you will need to succeed in the job, then doing more and more teaching is not going to make you a stronger candidate. It might make you a stronger candidate to work at Starbucks and teach one class a semester to keep yourself current with teaching, if that means that it allows you to be innovative in that one class that you teach, and if that means that you can attend to the other parts of your application in a more focused way.
What I wasn’t saying: I at no point said that we did not give equal attention to applications from candidates whose cv includes a lot of adjuncting. We do, and when appropriate, those candidates have been invited for first-round interviews and campus visits, and they have received offers from our department.
But this gets to the “humanity” issue. When we choose candidates to interview, no, we aren’t thinking about anything other than the application materials in front of us, and how well those materials match what we ask for in our advertisement. Which, frankly, I think is appropriate. We are trying to hire a colleague, and we need that colleague to do a particular job. It would be unethical – and potentially in violation of laws about equitable hiring practices – to let factors beyond the application materials influence hiring decisions. Does that hurt some candidates? Probably. But it also helps some candidates who might otherwise face discrimination because of some aspect of their personal-life profile. Finally: I don’t know of any job in the world in which humanity is a primary factor in the hiring process. How would you judge whose life circumstances count more than another person’s? And if those criteria were primary, how would that relate to getting a candidate who will do the most effective job completing the work of the position, which, after all, is supposed to be the point?
Let me be clear: I am not in any way disparaging part-time faculty or saying that teaching part-time disqualifies a person from a tenure-track position. And I agree that my part-time colleagues are, for the most part, incredibly dedicated teachers, and that they do their jobs often in the face of incredible adversity.
But at the end of the day, let’s say I’m on a search committee, and I have to evaluate, say, 200 applications for just one position. It’s likely that at least a quarter of those applications will come from candidates who are adjuncts. So let’s say that we throw out everybody who’s not a part-timer. That still would leave us with 50 candidates for just one position. What criteria am I going to use to narrow the pool from 50 down to one? I’m going to look at innovation in teaching in the field in which we are hiring (not the number of courses taught); I’m going to look at consistency of scholarly engagement; I’m going to look at the person’s ability to carry the very heavy administrative and service load that goes with tenure-track employment at my institution. And 49 adjuncts will still be left out in the cold.
The hiring process is brutal. And even if we disqualified recently degreed folks or folks who somehow escaped freeway-flying (which, let’s note, is “offensive” and “appalling” in the opposite direction), that would not mean that every candidate who meets the minimum qualifications for a job ad would ultimately get hired on the tenure-track. The jobs just aren’t there.
So, finally, I want to object to the implication that tenure-track faculty are awful gatekeepers who are trying to deny access to the privileges of tenure-track employment, that we are trying to reinforce a caste system in the academy, with haves and have-nots. I mean, maybe some people are like that, but I don’t know any of them. I would love it if we could hire enough tenure-track faculty – or hell, even full-time lecturers along with tenure-track faculty – to staff all of the courses that my department offers, not in the least because it would help to ease the service and administrative burdens that distract me from my teaching. And we ask for lines each and every year, in the hope that maybe sometimes we will get a line or two, even while lines from our department have gone unfilled and are “redistributed” to other units on campus, and more often than not the answer is a big fat no.
Tenure-track faculty and adjunct faculty are on the same side, or at least they should be.
Reassigned Time 2.0 
Dr. C, I think you explained the issues really well in your previous post and here. Thanks. I would also add that I look for someone who’s been adjuncting a couple of years to be able to talk in more sophisticated ways about their teaching, to talk about stuff they’ve tried, how they’ve learned to meet the curricular needs of a different department or school. That is, I’m looking to see that someone who’s been adjuncting has learned from that experience and can contribute more as a result.
And thanks for your final paragraphs. I’d love to hire more than one person from the pool of 100+ applicants for jobs to my department, but the fact is, there’s one job, and we can only hire one person. The job market is brutal, more brutal than when I was on it (and we thought it was pretty horrid then), but the brutality is systemic.
Spot on! I’m at a teaching intensive PUI, and we are currently running a search. We’d love to see an applicant with a ton of teaching experience, but that person still has to have a clearly articulated research plan, supported by the literature, and achievable with undergrad researchers. We get that someone adjunct ing probably hasn’t been doing a ton of active research, but that person has to show us that they’ll be able to meet out handbook guidelines by year 6.
I hear and like and appreciate everything you’re saying here. I just think it’s hard for adjuncts to feel like anybody is on their side. Sympathy from TT and tenured folks can feel like salt in an open wound. Yes, the problem is systemic but you’re part of the system. I’m not saying to be hostile. I guess I just understand the energy behind the original comment.
On the other hand, no one should look at adjuncting as a primary means of employment/bill paying/children feeding.
I really love Crazy’s response here. It describes the hiring practices at my institution almost exactly.. But I must say, I had a real issue with the following comment from Fubecona:
“Oh, you thought you should be at home with your child for the years before she started school. Your spouse got a promotion and moved across the country and you gave up a full-time position because you decided to go along too? That’s fabulous; too bad you gave up that job for some worthless adjuncting gig just so you could keep your family together.”
I don’t think that Fubecona is particularly talking about her specific experience. She is giving examples. Still, I hear this from part time (female) instructors in academia with a fair amount of frequency and it really irks me. If a woman decides to enact the fantasy role of the ideal heterosexual woman and follow her husband or stay at home with her child, then fine, that’s her choice. But she can’t expect to pick up her career where it left off. NO career is like that. I suppose it also irks me because being a heterosexual woman with children isn’t a particularly difficult subject position to occupy. Know what’s difficult? Being gay or being an unmarried woman or even being a career minded woman. If gay people or career minded women experience a tiny bit of an advantage in any aspect of life, people whine and moan about the unfairness of it all. You can either choose to stay home with your children/follow your husband about the country and experience all the privileges that come with that or you can choose to follow your career and experience the privileges (and the hardships) that come with academia. You don’t get both.
Along these lines, this job requires you to move. That’s the sucky part of an otherwise amazing career. I moved 2000 miles from my family to a town where I knew no one. I know people now and I love where I live but if I had my druthers, I would move back to where I am from. But I made the choice to move for the job. Nobody gets to point on a map and decide that they are going to find an academic position in the same town where their husband works. It doesn’t work that way.
I have some really wonderful friends who haven’t been able to find work in this terrible market and are willing to move for the position and for them I have an immense amount of sympathy and I hope they all find the work they so richly deserve. But to the people that stamp their feet and demand a job in the same town as their spouse? Or demand time off to “stay at home?” My sympathy is limited. And that doesn’t make me exploitive or academia a caste system.
And we ask for lines each and every year, in the hope that maybe sometimes we will get a line or two, even while lines from our department have gone unfilled and are “redistributed” to other units on campus, and more often than not the answer is a big fat no.
Word. We’re down five full-time faculty members in a small department. We’ve gone from double digits of faculty to single digits. We’re hiring two new positions in the next year, in a sub-field determined by top-level administration interests. There are some fabulous scholar-teachers who we would love to consider, seeing their experience as adjuncts here or elsewhere and we know we can’t. I know that other departments and other programs face similar dilemmas when they finally can hire – they can’t afford to consider X or Y because they need a new colleague who can cover not only this subfield but also this other they’ve been without since So-and-so left or retired four years earlier.
I’m not saying our pain is comparable to that of the underemployed and unemployed candidates who’re almost all really fabulous prospects. I’m only saying that we are incredibly frustrated at how few jobs we can offer and the corners into which we’re backed when we start to make those short-lists.
@Anastasia – Thanks for your comment. I totally see where you’re coming from, and, for what it’s worth, the reason I made this a post rather than just responding in comments was in part because I, too, understood the energy behind the original comment. One of the things that I think is most destructive is the fact that there is this separation between t-t and adjunct perspectives. It’s not useful, and it doesn’t really help to produce positive change. I totally get that an adjunct might find my commentary insufferable – maybe even *should* find it insufferable. But until we start talking to each other, that’s not going to change, yeah? So I’m not sure if I succeeded in starting that conversation, but that was actually why I did this as a post rather than as a comment, if that makes sense. It shouldn’t be an afterthought.
Now, regarding me being part of the system. Yep, I totally am. But here’s the thing: Adjuncts are part of that same system – they’re just disenfranchised and fucked over participants. I suppose what I’m pointing out here is that we are ALL complicit. Now, it’s fair to note that if you’re complicit and you’re benefiting (as I am), then you have more responsibility. And I think that’s true. And this is why I’ve done EVERYTHING in my power to mentor and to assist (in the form of rec letters, observing classes, looking at cvs and job materials and giving feedback, vetting manuscripts, etc.) adjuncts in my department with getting the fuck out of here. I have that power, and that’s the sort of power I like to use. Also, I do think it’s my responsibility to do that, even if it’s a very small thing to do. But I don’t know how useful it is to set up an us vs. them thing, whether it’s tenured/ t-t folks setting it up to pretend that they got there on merit, or whether it’s adjuncts setting it up to pretend that they are somehow not part of it all, too. I think the better position for all of us is to unite and to fight, as much as we can do (and we’re all limited in that, but we can do what we can do).
@Alexandra – I get where you’re coming from, but I also want to state clearly that I don’t want this comment thread to become a forum for some sort of mommy wars/ child-free vs. child-having business. (Not saying that you did that – just I see the potential for that to emerge.) The reason I handled the “humanity” issue the way that I did in my post is because, ultimately, none of this is *about* people taking time out to be with their kids, or time off to care for ailing parents, or whatever. We all have shit in our personal lives, and I don’t want to be the arbiter of what counts and what doesn’t, just as I don’t want to be the arbiter of what counts and what doesn’t when my students miss class, which is why I’m not the sort of professor that requires a death certificate to prove a dead relative, or whatever. And, let’s note, it’s not only female academics that bring up the whole “but we’re PEOPLE” argument: that happens from folks with penises as well. I’m not interested in trying to decide who’s “more” feminist, or who is more realistic about the profession, or whatever. My fantasy (totally a fantasy, let’s note) is that we’d realize that everybody has personal circumstances that get in the way of career, and we’d give everybody equal leeway without asking people to offer up some confessional shit about how their things are SO FUCKING IMPORTANT, but at the same time, in capitalism, of course the job doesn’t give a shit about those. The best I think that we can do is to try to give everybody a fair shot, within the parameters of capitalism since that’s our system,
At any rate, I just want to note for the record that I don’t want to debate about the relative merits of staying home with young children vs. caring for old parents vs. dealing with a disability vs. conducting a long-distance marriage vs. being single in a rural area vs. whatthefuckever. This blog has no patience for the oppression Olympics.
I adjuncted for five years and got a TT job, starting in the 2011-12 school year. So this is my second year on the TT. I am very grateful for my job, and I don’t think that I could have gotten it without those five years of adjuncting. Being part-time taught me how to be a better teacher, how to prioritize, how to play the academic game. So when it came down to my interview at my school, I was able to talk about teaching in a better way than someone who may have just been a TA in a composition class. It helped that I had three years of experience teaching Shakespeare, for instance.
That said, I could not have been an adjunct for five years without having a sugar daddy (or as I like to call him, a splenda daddy, since we’ve never been rich). Having a husband outside of academia, who was able to move anywhere in the world to be with me because he could telecommute made my TT job possible. I wouldn’t have wanted to split up my two kids and my husband for a job, even if the job was what I’d been working toward for more than ten years. If we would have had to live in different cities, I would have given up my career ambitions to keep the family together. That’s not necessarily a gender thing. It’s a practical thing — he was the one who had a full-time job. What? If he weren’t able to telecommute, was he supposed to give that up to move to a one-year VAP with me? That doesn’t make any sense. We wouldn’t have been able to make rent, let alone eat food on a regular basis. Thankfully, he WAS able to telecommute, and we all lived happily ever after — so far.
I also made the home-work balance work for me as an adjunct by teaching mostly at night. That way, I could spend time with the kiddos and not have total mommy guilt, and I was able to keep my teaching foot in the door. It worked out. It won’t always work out for everyone. But figuring out what will work for you as an individual is important. A lot of an academic career, to me, depends on what you’re willing to put up with. (Or maybe that’s just life in general.)
I was on the job market for 4 years and applied to probably more than 200 jobs. I was bitter and ready to give up toward the end. When I got the job, I was surprised as hell because I’d become so used to disappointment. So yes, I sympathize mightily with adjuncts, and I try to be helpful however and whenever I can. It’s quite a problem, and I’m not sure it’s going to change any time soon.
I’ve often been disappointed by the way discussions of hiring strategy and job-hunting strategy degenerate into discussions of tact, and usually people end up discussing tact because of cries of the heart like Fubecona’s. This pattern bothered me even when I was a long-suffering job candidate. Like several commentators, I am baffled by the accusation of lacking humanity. Like several, I am confused as to why tenured and tenure-track faculty would wish to restrict our privileges (I would love to double the size of my department, not least so there would be more people to share the service burden—see Crazy’s point). Like Alexandra Dover, I am disappointed by the assumption that the profession ought to be subsidizing heteronormativity.
However, at one point Fubecona implies that search committees should take “degree of difficulty” into account. I was about to disagree, but then I remembered that I have taken into account those professional challenges that are reflected in the dossier. That is, I will be impressed if a candidate who has been teaching a heavy load has meanwhile written and published two impressive articles, or that zie’s achievements in the classroom are unusually strong.
However, at one point Fubecona implies that search committees should take “degree of difficulty” into account. I was about to disagree, but then I remembered that I have taken into account those professional challenges that are reflected in the dossier. That is, I will be impressed if a candidate who has been teaching a heavy load has meanwhile written and published two impressive articles, or that zie’s achievements in the classroom are unusually strong.
I honestly think that’s all many people who have adjuncted for some years are wishing for: some assurance that they have at least the same chance as candidates who have a TT job with a heavy teaching load elsewhere, and comparable publications. One could wish that hiring departments also took into account the difficulty of the candidate’s situation when considering number/pace of publication(s), especially when weighing an ABD or recent Ph.D. with more promise than publications over someone who’s been out for some years and has been producing at a steady if slow rate while carrying a heavy teaching and/or service load. The latter person may actually be the better bet to make tenure, but I think candidates fear with some reason that the former has a better chance. “Promising” hares often — though not always, as Dr. Crazy attests — seem to best tortoises.
For whatever it’s worth, I agree with Dr. Crazy that looking for a full-time job outside of academia with a decent salary and benefits, and adjuncting to keep one’s hand in, makes far more sense for someone who needs to support themselves and/or a family adjuncting alone, which is a losing battle any way you look at it. For most people, I suspect such an arrangement would turn out to be an intermediate step on the way out of academia, but that’s where many of them/us are headed anyway, and at least it might make for a softer landing than other paths out of academia. I adjuncted for five years (and now hold a full-time non-TT job that may eventually prove untenable as well, for one of several reasons), and “I’m adjuncting to support myself/my family” just doesn’t make sense to me as an argument. Maybe in some places, in the current economy, adjuncting really is the best option for learning a living, but I suspect that most people would find, if they looked around, better-paying options.
I share your fantasy, Dr. Crazy.
I think we need to remember that people make all sorts of personal decisions for all sorts of personal reasons. And many of those personal decisions aren’t ideal professional decisions, but we need to own that and recognize the professional consequences.
I taught a lot as an adjunct, while I was finishing my PhD. It gave me the time flexibility to conduct my research (that the FT job I had previously did not) and I earned more money than RA jobs would get me. It gave me valuable teaching experience, which I needed. There was definitely a diminishing return, both in terms of what any hiring committee would care about and in terms of personal gain (though I needed more experience than perhaps a more natural or confident teacher did). In contrast, a friend took out huge student loans. That friend is now extremely accomplished, but has a huge student loan debt. My publication record is much less strong, I have a job, but at a much less prestigious place. Our different paths aren’t only about those decisions, but those decisions did influence our paths.
I do get the pressure of feeling like you’re fighting against significant and unfair disadvantages. And that sucks. But, hiring committees will always look for signs of tenurability. (I do think that in a department like mine, promising doesn’t always best the tortoises, as contingentcassandra calls them — though we will absolutely look for the slow/steady publications. I suspect that is more common in more elite departments).
I appreciate your response to my comments Dr. Crazy and you did clarify some things for me. I had gotten the sense from your original post (the one which I responded to) that you were saying hiring committees would dismiss an adjunct working “piece-meal” over someone who had a “day job,” so thank you for clarifying that point. Also, I do realize that the hiring process isn’t really about considering the personal struggles of each candidate, nor should it be. Obviously that would be both impractical, and as you pointed out, highly problematic. I do understand that. But it does seem like (and I’m sure this is a Pollyana fantasy—one which it sounds like you may share) that there could be more room in Academia for those who have followed a less traditional academic path (like someone who took time off for personal reasons). But I know that at the end of the day, it’s highly competitive and there has to be some way to “weed” people out.
Also, I understand that a person has to own the choices they make, and accept that those choices may negatively impact their career. It is what it is. But that doesn’t mean it’s not frustrating just the same. And I was venting. So thank you for taking my comments seriously. I didn’t realize you had responded and honestly, just the fact that you did respond is validating to me. I realize I may have come off as a bit hostile (I get worked up) so I really appreciate you not dismissing what I said as just some irrational rant made by an overworked and frustrated adjunct. It feels good to be heard.
Also, I’d like to say, I agree with what Anastasia said: “I just think it’s hard for adjuncts to feel like anybody is on their side. Sympathy from TT and tenured folks can feel like salt in an open wound. “ It does often feel like no one cares. Adjuncting, more often than not is such a thankless job (and I imagine full-timers feel that way too sometimes) and then when I read blogs and comments online about how adjuncting doesn’t really help one advance in academia, it’s just so disheartening. I feel stuck–like I’m caught in a catch 22. I have tried to get other jobs outside of academia but haven’t had any success so far (I couldn’t even get an interview at Starbucks which I decided to try for because they offer benefits even to part-time workers). It seems like, outside academia, people see all that teaching on my resume and figure, all she can do is teach. Or see the education and say, she’s overqualified. And inside academia it’s also, all she does is teach or she got her degree 6 years ago. I feel I can’t win. I’m a single mom and I don’t have the luxury of cutting back on the number of classes I teach (when I’m lucky enough to get the number necessary to survive), so I teach at 3-4 schools at any given time. Somehow I’ve managed to stay afloat (and off government assistance) this way for almost 3 years now, but it’s stressful never knowing if I will get enough classes in the next term and I’m not sure how much longer I can carry on this way. Needless to say, I’m not doing all this teaching because I think it will help my career, I’m doing it because it’s the only work I can find right now. I hope that eventually I can find a full-time job; at this point, I don’t care if it’s in academia or not. Anyway, I’m just rambling now. Sorry if I sound whiny, there are probably things I should do differently, and I am seriously looking into ways to transition out of academia. I should stop allowing the system to take advantage of me, slowly I am coming to this realization…that ultimately I am the one that has to take control of my career path.
Again, I do appreciate your response. It is an important conversation and one that we shouldn’t shy away from. And, thank you to all those who commented. I appreciate the dialogue.
I’m so glad that you commented back, fubecona! Part of the reason that I made your comment the material for a post, rather than just responding in a comment, was that I thought it deserved more space, if that makes sense. I’m also glad that my response was helpful – who knows whether those things will be, you,know?
Also: though I don’t know anything about your situation, I want to suggest that the thing that would be most useful to you is a mentor that really gets the situation you’re in and who really has your best interests at heart – so not a person who wants you to become a “mini-me” but rather somebody who really wants to assist you in getting to your own best personal situation, and who has whatever it takes to help you to get there. I think of this in part because I’m fielding requests for letters of recommendation right now, and I’m forcing those students to come talk to me about why they are thinking about applying to grad school and asking them to really think about what they want in their lives. I am not a professor who says “just don’t do it” – and, frankly, I’ve had students who not only thought that this was their path and pursued it but who are doing great after. But: I am not interested in reproducing myself at all: I think it’s a victory when I have a conversation with a student and they realize that grad school isn’t necessarily what they want. A lot of times I’m the first person who’ve ever indicated they could do something else, you know? So I just feel like you need a person who cares about you more than they care about replicating themselves – or at least that’s one thing that would be helpful.
Again, I don’t know all of the details, but you deserve BETTER than what you describe. EVERYBODY does. And you CAN have better than that. Does it mean an Alt-ac career? potentially. Does it mean shifting gears altogether? Possibly. The point is: I don’t think you’re being whiny. I think that your situation sucks, and anybody WOULD whine when it sucks that way. What matters is not whether others (me, anybody else) perceives you as being whiny. What matters is that you find a career path that works and that doesn’t shit all over you. If it helps, feel free to email me personally. Seriously. I’m not just saying that. reassignedtime at gmail. I’m not saying that I can solve all the things, but I’m happy to try to use what I know to point you in a productive direction. Life’s to short to be in the place that you’re in.
This is a great statement of the issues, Dr. C. When I’m on a search committee, I’m really interested in what someone can bring to our program. I was delighted last year when we hired someone who had been on the market for 5 years, but I was delighted because ze was *exactly* the person we needed in that position — just as the person we hired the year before right out of grad school was also a great choice.
My instinct in reading applications is to like candidates who have clearly had difficult and unconventional paths. But in this job market, that’s at least half the applicants for a t-t position in the humanities. Where I think being humane (and human) comes into the process is understanding of context in assessing a record — whether it be quantity of publication, or venues, or whatever. If you have too rigid a checklist, you’ll miss people you might want to have.
In terms of the structural problems, ladder faculty need to think of the ways they can be allies to adjuncts on our own campuses. But our ability to change the financial model of US higher education is limited (and varies by institution). I try to do it, though I confess I would be a better ally if I didn’t do so much service. . .
Hi, Tenured person here. Very sympathetic to all that’s been said and also very grateful that in my discipline there is much less adjuncting (though more than there used to be) and that I didn’t have to go through that particular brand of hell.
Working (and thinking) inside the system as I do, I have to say the solution is fewer PhDs. What’s happening is that there aren’t very many t-t slots, there are many smart people who worked very hard through grad school, went into debt, faced down all sorts of hardship in order to finish their schooling, and inevitably some — nay, most — of them are not going to find jobs. If we keep putting the same numbers of people through the system, then unless money starts pouring from the heavens for universities to hire a LOT more faculty, this is not going to improve.
What you can do: vote against your department’s proposal to start a PhD program. Refuse to take on students. I know this sounds bad. It also makes it so that the students who shone in college are the only ones who will get a chance at a PhD, and the late bloomers will be kept out at the gate. This is also unfair. But is it more unfair than letting ten times as many students in as could possibly find employment???
So I’m a first-time responder and long-time lurker … I dig this site like (nearly) no other and it is in my top-10 queue every morning. So thanks, Dr. Crazy, for making such a great space and for being wicked smart (and for drawing some deliciously smart folks to your blog). To the point here: why are folks romanticizing the life of the mind? I get the desire to pursue your dream of academic living, but when the academy clearly isn’t accepting most people who desire to live among its ranks, why aren’t people moving on so as to make a living? Rather than keep pressing to be within an institution that doesn’t want most people, why not just leave? The skills we have are transferable; we’ve just been sold a bill that they aren’t. I admire and appreciate wanting to be a part of the academy, but selling your soul (and your credit rating, your time, your life with your family) to do so is only hurting anyone who does it. It doesn’t hurt the academy. Humans do populate hiring committees, but the institution is not a human being (Citizens United notwithstanding).
I agree with ‘o’, that unless we can magically make massively more money pour into university hiring budgets, the only aspect of this problem we’re likely to have control over is the other end — not bringing more people into the discipline than we can ethically expect can find decent jobs afterwards.
My sisters are doctors; the AMA doesn’t allow more people into medical school than there are jobs for afterwards — if you get in, and if you graduate, there will be a job as a doctor for you, somewhere in America. I wish we could guarantee as much for our graduate students.
It may sound harsh, but what that commenter fubarcona was basically saying was that she deserves an A for effort. Academia doesn’t work that way, nor does any other profession. No one really gives a shit about what obstacles you overcame to do what you did, nor do they care about what other shit you have to do in your life besides pursue your profession. They care about what you have to offer professionally that is relevant to the job to be filled. Period.
[…] Reassigned time discusses, among other things, how we wish we could hire more folks. […]
I don’t think that’s true, Comradde PhysioProffe. Despite her earlier comments about “life getting in the way,” Fubucona’s last post suggests that she does not believe she should be simply rewarded for her effort—or compensated for her suffering. Let’s remember that she is making a contribution: teaching a heavy load well enough to be re-hired is an achievement, even if it is common enough to be of little help when it comes to getting a tenure-track position. She is in a predicament where any efforts she might make now do little or nothing to advance her career; her career, to the extent that she has one, is shaped entirely by the need to put food on the table. She is right to observe that her focus on teaching should not be read as her statement about who she really is. If you are so busy teaching that you cannot publish, then that is a problem insofar as you are not publishing, but a search committee would be wrong to treat a heavy teaching load as a gesture freely chosen; it is a twitch, not a wink. Ironically, in many tenure-track jobs, Fubucona’s duties would not be remarkably different from her current ones.