Our lives are in motion! It's rather exhilarating.
Sudden changes. The doctor suggesting Rocket take off from work several weeks sooner than planned. The term rapidly coming to an end for me.
Last night, Rocket & I had a date (perhaps the last for a while, as you shall learn). It was her birthday. We went to a nice tapas bar. The same one we visited last April. I thought it a fitting location to celebrate as some of our life plans, ones that we discussed in embryo last time we visited that restaurant, were taking form (even if more rapidly than we had expected).
Before dinner, we stopped by my office to look over our finances, and run some calculations. One thing that Rocket discovered this week was that her disability/family leave pay will be a bit less than we had been anticipating. So, we ran some figures.
One of the results of these calculations (and a re-dedication to our family priorities) was that we've decided not to extend our arrangement with D. That will save us about $6500 over the next few months. She'll be looking for a new family, and will likely leave us sometime this month. Circumstances have changed dramatically from last summer when D came to join us. We had expected that Rocket would be working through the end of January. And we expected that I would remain at Lemon until the summer. Likely we'll still have her help for the next few weeks (at least long enough to get me through finals). If not, hey, I'll take the boys with me to campus. It may sound odd, but I'm actually quite pleased with these changes. We're driving. We're in charge. We're setting our priorities, and sticking to them.
We'll both be off of work in the next few weeks, lower income, but more time to spend with our boys. Some unexpected changes, but this is a calculated and measured move. We know what we have in the bank. We know our current spending habits. We know where we can cut costs. Truth is, we can sustain ourselves easily for a year to two (even were we to remain here), but more likely we've got a good three years of expenses covered (assuming the cost of living where we're planning to move). I have no intention to come close to that red line. But it's good to know it's far off.
One thing we realized in the midst of this, is that there's really little keeping us here through June or July (as we had been thinking). In fact, the only real issue is the Painter's kindergarten which won't end until mid-June. But that alone is not enough to keep us put an extra few months.
The plan now is we stick around through #3's birth (we've actually picked out a name, but we're keeping it under wraps for now... we may change our minds), and a month or so for mother and baby's recovery. But that brings us to possibly moving around the end of March or April. The sooner we leave, the sooner we reduce our living expenses.
We are, as it were, free! The only obligation we retain is the remaining $40,000 balance on our student loans, which if we chose, we could pay off. For now, it seems wiser to continue the ~$450 monthly payment, and keep the cash in savings (just in case). We own our vehicles. We have no mortgage. And we're on the verge of tying up all loose ends. Life is in our hands.
For now, we wait to hear from Miwla College. Either way, we're priming for our move, whether near Miwla or elsewhere in that rhomboid.
As I reminded Rocket, a bit more timid and apprehensive about these changes than I: This is something I'm really good at, something I thrive with. Reinvention. We're good.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Does history repeat?
What's up with the world and it's leaders these days? First we have this idiot in the White House. I swear, every time I hear him speak, even the rare occasions when what he has to say is reasonable (like for instance a pledge to increase support to fight AIDS in developing countries) he sounds stupid, inarticulate. How in the world anyone could have voted for him, thinking him a leader, someone to be followed, emulated, I haven't the slightest idea. And his presidency has pushed the limits of consolidating power in the executive branch even more than Nixon's.
We have a rise of insanity across the globe. EU-Iranian talks regarding Iran's nuclear program have faltered. Putin is consolidating power, cracking down on opposition, and suppressing free press in Russia; Musharraf continues his farcical reign as president, having gutted the Pakistani Supreme Court which was standing to consider the validity of his election to the post he seized in a coup, meanwhile suppressing free press; Venezuela's Chavez is exceedingly close to pushing through constitutional reforms (with seductively populist changes like reducing the work day from eight hours to six!) which threaten to permit him unbridled power, and a repeal of presidential term limits, all the while suppressing free press.
You see the pattern? Is there any hope in this context of peace between the Israelis and Palestinians? Is there any chance that America will elect a true leader, who will have the wisdom, courage, and moral authority to inspire the world away from the growing push toward authoritarianism? I don't know. Wisdom, courage, and moral authority seem to be in exile. It's up to us to coax them back.
We have a rise of insanity across the globe. EU-Iranian talks regarding Iran's nuclear program have faltered. Putin is consolidating power, cracking down on opposition, and suppressing free press in Russia; Musharraf continues his farcical reign as president, having gutted the Pakistani Supreme Court which was standing to consider the validity of his election to the post he seized in a coup, meanwhile suppressing free press; Venezuela's Chavez is exceedingly close to pushing through constitutional reforms (with seductively populist changes like reducing the work day from eight hours to six!) which threaten to permit him unbridled power, and a repeal of presidential term limits, all the while suppressing free press.
You see the pattern? Is there any hope in this context of peace between the Israelis and Palestinians? Is there any chance that America will elect a true leader, who will have the wisdom, courage, and moral authority to inspire the world away from the growing push toward authoritarianism? I don't know. Wisdom, courage, and moral authority seem to be in exile. It's up to us to coax them back.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Hibernation
I feel a bit overwhelmed at the moment. I've got myself a nasty cold since yesterday. I actually ended up canceling my afternoon lecture yesterday because I was feeling miserable, and thought resting up for my telephone interview was a higher priority. I might likely have put off the class in any case, the way I was feeling. I'm glad I took the rest though. Despite not feeling quite 100%, I did alright.
I think I remain a rather strong candidate for the post. I had one more question when they wrapped up because of time constraints (the interview was scheduled to last 20 minutes). So, I emailed the chair of the committee. This morning, he sent back a clear and thoughtful response to my inquiry (and cc'd the entire committee). I think that's a good sign that they're still taking me seriously. We'll know soon enough. I would very much like to be offered this opportunity. And I'm rather disinclined to apply for any other positions.
That leads us closer to our (well, not decision point) but our point of movement. Decisions have already been made; we're simply waiting on the few factors that are out of our hands at the moment, before we finalize details. Rocket has now given notice to her supervisor that she'll be taking off before the holidays. That gives her less than three weeks before her hypotheticals become realities.
I'll know in the next couple weeks if I'm out of the running for the post at Miwla College, but perhaps more likely, I'll simply find that I'm still under consideration, and things will remain up in the air a bit until February or March. Meantime, what do I do with my research firm? Ah yes... that's still on my mind.
Tonight I was scheduled to have a conference call with the two programmers I've been meaning to hire. Things got far more complicated in the weeks following our initial meeting. As I wrote before, they finally sent me a rather terse document, which I found unacceptable as a work agreement. We spoke a couple weeks ago, and agreed to revisit the issues today. This morning, I received an email from them with a new draft agreement and some feedback and questions on my original specifications document.
There were certainly some improvements in this work agreement, especially in terms of clarity. But I'm a bit leery of a few items, in particular regarding sharing "partial credit" for potential patents. I'd like to run the document by an attorney. More importantly, I really need some more time (and energy) to review it, which currently I'm too wiped out for.
So, I sent off an email postponing the conference call, suggesting that I'll plan to call them in the next couple weeks. Partly, I'm feeling inclined to revert to my plan to simply do the initial programming myself, despite the fact that it looks fruitful for me to abandon my initial forays in C++, and take up learning C#. Of course, with Rocket off of work, and our planned move to parts remote in the coming months (regardless of the outcome at Miwla College, I might possibly have some company learning and programming.
I guess what I realize is that while their assistance would be helpful, their experience would likely save me a great deal of time and trouble, and I'd likely have a workable toolset sooner, I'm not convinced that it is absolutely essential, certainly not enough for me to hand over any credit ("partial" or otherwise) for their implementation of my algorithms. Their new document specifically states that they: as implementer shall receive partial credit for any and all [blahdiblah] pertaining to the work of this agreement that results in a patent both during and after the execution of this agreement.
While, the statement is rather vague (I mean, I could grant them .005% of my company's future profits, which would be "partial credit"), I'm just not sure that their work at this point would warrant it. And, I'm not sure what the legal ramifications would be for my agreeing to it (hence the need to consult with an attorney).
In any case, I'm feeling quite a desire to hibernate from the world for a few weeks. Unfortunately, I've yet another few weeks of obligations (grading, teaching) to Lemon. But, I plan to get my rest as I can, recovering from this nasty bug I've caught, and putting off these programmers until I'm up to dealing with the issues properly. If it means I'm back on my own, then so be it. One thing I've learned this term is that working 25-30 hours a week on teaching, plus a 9-12 hour commute, is incompatible with me building a research firm.
When I started the term at Lemon, I thought I'd have about 1.5-2 days per week for my research. Once grading kicked in, that was impossible (at least without sacrificing my home life). Important to keep that in mind. If Miwla comes through, I would hope that the significantly smaller class size, the full-time office, and a negligible commute would facilitate both teaching and research. And if it doesn't come through, I've got all the time I want (limited only by the reach of our savings). For now, I can only hope.
It'll be nice to have Rocket around more, once she takes off on leave. And it'll be nice to be free of the long (pollution-filled) commutes to Lemon. Soon enough, soon enough.
Who knows... maybe I'll get a pleasant call from Miwla in the next week.
I think I remain a rather strong candidate for the post. I had one more question when they wrapped up because of time constraints (the interview was scheduled to last 20 minutes). So, I emailed the chair of the committee. This morning, he sent back a clear and thoughtful response to my inquiry (and cc'd the entire committee). I think that's a good sign that they're still taking me seriously. We'll know soon enough. I would very much like to be offered this opportunity. And I'm rather disinclined to apply for any other positions.
That leads us closer to our (well, not decision point) but our point of movement. Decisions have already been made; we're simply waiting on the few factors that are out of our hands at the moment, before we finalize details. Rocket has now given notice to her supervisor that she'll be taking off before the holidays. That gives her less than three weeks before her hypotheticals become realities.
I'll know in the next couple weeks if I'm out of the running for the post at Miwla College, but perhaps more likely, I'll simply find that I'm still under consideration, and things will remain up in the air a bit until February or March. Meantime, what do I do with my research firm? Ah yes... that's still on my mind.
Tonight I was scheduled to have a conference call with the two programmers I've been meaning to hire. Things got far more complicated in the weeks following our initial meeting. As I wrote before, they finally sent me a rather terse document, which I found unacceptable as a work agreement. We spoke a couple weeks ago, and agreed to revisit the issues today. This morning, I received an email from them with a new draft agreement and some feedback and questions on my original specifications document.
There were certainly some improvements in this work agreement, especially in terms of clarity. But I'm a bit leery of a few items, in particular regarding sharing "partial credit" for potential patents. I'd like to run the document by an attorney. More importantly, I really need some more time (and energy) to review it, which currently I'm too wiped out for.
So, I sent off an email postponing the conference call, suggesting that I'll plan to call them in the next couple weeks. Partly, I'm feeling inclined to revert to my plan to simply do the initial programming myself, despite the fact that it looks fruitful for me to abandon my initial forays in C++, and take up learning C#. Of course, with Rocket off of work, and our planned move to parts remote in the coming months (regardless of the outcome at Miwla College, I might possibly have some company learning and programming.
I guess what I realize is that while their assistance would be helpful, their experience would likely save me a great deal of time and trouble, and I'd likely have a workable toolset sooner, I'm not convinced that it is absolutely essential, certainly not enough for me to hand over any credit ("partial" or otherwise) for their implementation of my algorithms. Their new document specifically states that they: as implementer shall receive partial credit for any and all [blahdiblah] pertaining to the work of this agreement that results in a patent both during and after the execution of this agreement.
While, the statement is rather vague (I mean, I could grant them .005% of my company's future profits, which would be "partial credit"), I'm just not sure that their work at this point would warrant it. And, I'm not sure what the legal ramifications would be for my agreeing to it (hence the need to consult with an attorney).
In any case, I'm feeling quite a desire to hibernate from the world for a few weeks. Unfortunately, I've yet another few weeks of obligations (grading, teaching) to Lemon. But, I plan to get my rest as I can, recovering from this nasty bug I've caught, and putting off these programmers until I'm up to dealing with the issues properly. If it means I'm back on my own, then so be it. One thing I've learned this term is that working 25-30 hours a week on teaching, plus a 9-12 hour commute, is incompatible with me building a research firm.
When I started the term at Lemon, I thought I'd have about 1.5-2 days per week for my research. Once grading kicked in, that was impossible (at least without sacrificing my home life). Important to keep that in mind. If Miwla comes through, I would hope that the significantly smaller class size, the full-time office, and a negligible commute would facilitate both teaching and research. And if it doesn't come through, I've got all the time I want (limited only by the reach of our savings). For now, I can only hope.
It'll be nice to have Rocket around more, once she takes off on leave. And it'll be nice to be free of the long (pollution-filled) commutes to Lemon. Soon enough, soon enough.
Who knows... maybe I'll get a pleasant call from Miwla in the next week.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
So much better in person
Okay... so the phone interview is done. I dread the conference call of disembodied voices. Despite the fact that I had spoken one on one with three of the five committee members, I was terribly nervous.
Tasse Plein had suggested to me:
We'll see. That part is over. They say they expect to make a decision in the next week or so about whom to invite to campus. They'll invite three or four to come in the end of January or beginning of February. (Great, I think... just when my baby is due!) But, I'll cross that logistical bridge when I come to it. For now, I don't know that they'll invite me.
The waiting is the hardest. To be fair, I think I had a lot of good things to say. But I wasn't my strongest with the opening questions. It wasn't so bad. But... my cell phone, them on a crackly speaker phone, we lost a connection at one point. [SIGH].
It's done. Now to let it go. I'm on to the next thing. I've got a conference call with my programmers tomorrow. Lots of grading left to do. I should know in a week or so. Either way, I'm moving on.
Tasse Plein had suggested to me:
Make sure to really listen to them. In other words, make sure to let them talk; ask them questions about themselves if appropriate. Please make sure to keep your answers fairly brief. Your enthusiasm will always be an advantage, but make sure you don't come on too strong.I do my best. Caught myself a bit just blathering on. But I think they like me. A couple of them stepped in to rescue me a bit it seemed. And I listened. And... after the formal questions (God I hate those, I feel like I just talk in vagaries), I lightened up a bit. And I listened, and asked questions. And I reflected on what they said.
We'll see. That part is over. They say they expect to make a decision in the next week or so about whom to invite to campus. They'll invite three or four to come in the end of January or beginning of February. (Great, I think... just when my baby is due!) But, I'll cross that logistical bridge when I come to it. For now, I don't know that they'll invite me.
The waiting is the hardest. To be fair, I think I had a lot of good things to say. But I wasn't my strongest with the opening questions. It wasn't so bad. But... my cell phone, them on a crackly speaker phone, we lost a connection at one point. [SIGH].
It's done. Now to let it go. I'm on to the next thing. I've got a conference call with my programmers tomorrow. Lots of grading left to do. I should know in a week or so. Either way, I'm moving on.
Butterflies
The clock is ticking down. Thai lunch today. Fortune cookie read: "A long awaited opportunity will be comeing [sic] soon". I hope, I hope.
Actually, from my many years performing on stage, I don't really get butterflies. Rather, I need to pee, usually about six times before the curtain goes up.
Wish me luck. Less than an hour to go. Gotta run now. You know where.
Actually, from my many years performing on stage, I don't really get butterflies. Rather, I need to pee, usually about six times before the curtain goes up.
Wish me luck. Less than an hour to go. Gotta run now. You know where.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Time ticking
Funny that I would write a post entitled "Time in Slow Motion" while my wife would write "Time Compresses". Time is on both of our minds.
I wanted to let her break the news so to speak before I brought it up on my blog. It looks now like she'll be taking off from work about 6 weeks sooner than planned, on December 20. Her appointment with the OB yesterday put a little fire under her feet, with the doctor's suggestion that she might benefit from taking off at 30 weeks. She did a quick calculation, then said "but that's less than two weeks!" So, she'll hold out a little longer than the doctor suggested, but not by much.
Her plans had been to work through the end of January. And now, all on a sudden, she's facing wrapping up loose ends, then heading home. And I? Tomorrow I have my telephone interview with Miwla College. I'm excited, yet mellowed. I wish to give my best face. Yet, I'm perfectly content to accept whatever outcome results.
Rocket has been saying that what she's come to see her career as meaning is money, recognition, and stability. I see the possibilities in this post at Miwla as being along those lines. I'd enjoy the work. And I'd do it well. Of that, I am quite convinced. There is much to like in the school, and the post just beckons me. Yet, I've had a long tour of this, and I'm not so committed (attached) to landing a faculty post anymore. For a tenure-track gig it's about as wonderful as I could imagine. And yet, I've come to believe that, despite what I'd come to expect throughout graduate school, a tenure-track gig is not necessarily the pinnacle of my career choices.
Money, recognition, stability. Nothing wrong with those three. It's just... they're only part of the package.
I wanted to let her break the news so to speak before I brought it up on my blog. It looks now like she'll be taking off from work about 6 weeks sooner than planned, on December 20. Her appointment with the OB yesterday put a little fire under her feet, with the doctor's suggestion that she might benefit from taking off at 30 weeks. She did a quick calculation, then said "but that's less than two weeks!" So, she'll hold out a little longer than the doctor suggested, but not by much.
Her plans had been to work through the end of January. And now, all on a sudden, she's facing wrapping up loose ends, then heading home. And I? Tomorrow I have my telephone interview with Miwla College. I'm excited, yet mellowed. I wish to give my best face. Yet, I'm perfectly content to accept whatever outcome results.
Rocket has been saying that what she's come to see her career as meaning is money, recognition, and stability. I see the possibilities in this post at Miwla as being along those lines. I'd enjoy the work. And I'd do it well. Of that, I am quite convinced. There is much to like in the school, and the post just beckons me. Yet, I've had a long tour of this, and I'm not so committed (attached) to landing a faculty post anymore. For a tenure-track gig it's about as wonderful as I could imagine. And yet, I've come to believe that, despite what I'd come to expect throughout graduate school, a tenure-track gig is not necessarily the pinnacle of my career choices.
Money, recognition, stability. Nothing wrong with those three. It's just... they're only part of the package.
Time in slow motion
Our Honda Odyssey has a rather annoying feature. If one makes the mistake of trying to open the sliding side doors while locked, rather than what might be most useful and expected (simply not opening, which for any reasonable human being would be enough to indicate the possible need to unlock) they rather first attempt to open, then beep three times, then force a delay of another couple seconds while the system resets. Whatever the reasoning behind this, the nuisance factor far outweighs any imaginable benefit.
And so it is with the waiting in our lives. The decision is made, the effort has been initiated, and now we listen to the beeping of time, and realize there will yet be another inevitable delay following. Because my heart has departed from Lemon, I find myself dreading even more than usual the grading, which I ploddingly get through. Am I just whining?
I complain about my 72 students (ostensibly tended during a laughably fictitious 16-hour workweek). And I hear of friends with far more students. Of course, they are full-time, tenure-track, reasonably compensated, with benefits, and an office, and... But, I believe they are overloaded as well. Both friends I think of teach at state schools, and have 100 or more students in 3, 4, 5 classes per term. I wonder if "learning centered" isn't simply a euphemism for "we really don't care about the students or faculty, so long as we can cram a whole load of them into the same classroom." But I digress.
I have been reading more on the website about Miwla College. Small class sizes, full commitment to interdisciplinarity, and international education (40% of the graduates have spent a term or a year overseas, and their goal is to exceed 50%). It sounds like a great place for me. I don't think I'm whining so much, as I come to hold a clearer understanding of my expectations and my tolerances. I love to teach, but not if it means teaching more than 60 students per term. I've simply set a cap. I love my research also, and... my family.
Rocket has been looking over possible photographer websites, thinking she might like to get a nice pregnancy portrait done. One site, whose images we like, presents a comment on finding a photographer that self-congratulatorily indicates that "She has spent the necessary 16 hour days, 7 days a week learning and refining her craft." Ha!
Necessary! I wonder at this absurdity that somehow true love of a profession requires sacrifice of self. Why should teachers be praised for spending 60 or 80 hours a week on task? It's an odd praise. As someone who has worked 16 hour days at one point in my life. It doesn't make you better at your task. It wears you out. It reduces your productivity and concentration, and often compromises the quality of your results. There is no necessity in suffering. And, while many of us do get through, there's no reason to suspect that we wouldn't have accomplished as much if we spent less, but perhaps more concentrated, time on the effort.
I think I'll begin an occasional series of posts on unexamined assumptions.
And so it is with the waiting in our lives. The decision is made, the effort has been initiated, and now we listen to the beeping of time, and realize there will yet be another inevitable delay following. Because my heart has departed from Lemon, I find myself dreading even more than usual the grading, which I ploddingly get through. Am I just whining?
I complain about my 72 students (ostensibly tended during a laughably fictitious 16-hour workweek). And I hear of friends with far more students. Of course, they are full-time, tenure-track, reasonably compensated, with benefits, and an office, and... But, I believe they are overloaded as well. Both friends I think of teach at state schools, and have 100 or more students in 3, 4, 5 classes per term. I wonder if "learning centered" isn't simply a euphemism for "we really don't care about the students or faculty, so long as we can cram a whole load of them into the same classroom." But I digress.
I have been reading more on the website about Miwla College. Small class sizes, full commitment to interdisciplinarity, and international education (40% of the graduates have spent a term or a year overseas, and their goal is to exceed 50%). It sounds like a great place for me. I don't think I'm whining so much, as I come to hold a clearer understanding of my expectations and my tolerances. I love to teach, but not if it means teaching more than 60 students per term. I've simply set a cap. I love my research also, and... my family.
Rocket has been looking over possible photographer websites, thinking she might like to get a nice pregnancy portrait done. One site, whose images we like, presents a comment on finding a photographer that self-congratulatorily indicates that "She has spent the necessary 16 hour days, 7 days a week learning and refining her craft." Ha!
Necessary! I wonder at this absurdity that somehow true love of a profession requires sacrifice of self. Why should teachers be praised for spending 60 or 80 hours a week on task? It's an odd praise. As someone who has worked 16 hour days at one point in my life. It doesn't make you better at your task. It wears you out. It reduces your productivity and concentration, and often compromises the quality of your results. There is no necessity in suffering. And, while many of us do get through, there's no reason to suspect that we wouldn't have accomplished as much if we spent less, but perhaps more concentrated, time on the effort.
I think I'll begin an occasional series of posts on unexamined assumptions.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Hit the ground running
That's a phrase I've often used to describe myself, or which I've used as a motto for myself when entering a new situation. "Hit the ground running!" It describes initial momentum, rather than stasis and acceptance. It's an attitude of strength, and of one of my favorite conditions "cultivated naivety". Let's just see what can be done, before I've had a chance to be weighted down by pre-existing notions of possibility.
But there's an often neglected aspect to the phrase. "Hit the ground running" presents the image of being in flight, of floating, of the liminal state. That ... is where I am now. I'm in the air ("up in the air" as we say), waiting for a landing. I can't start running 'til my feet hit the ground.
I'm not good at waiting. This isn't the same waiting I've encountered however these past couple years. Rather, it's not the same sort of waiting I've grown to inhabit during these past few years. It's not the hopeless waiting in a terminal for a train that I don't expect to arrive. It's not the waiting outside a loved one's hospital room for the inevitable news I don't wish to hear.
It's simply waiting ... for the time to be ripe. I watch the oranges on our backyard tree with impatience, but also with anticipation. They will ripen; that I can expect. And so will time for me. Thursday, I have my telephone interview with the interdisciplinary search committee at Miwla College. Thursday at 5:00, after driving back from teaching at Lemon University. I had asked for a late time, so I'd be sure not to have them catch me in traffic. Should I be Brutus or Marc Antony? In this case, I suppose I opted for the latter.
I was told there might be as many as 10 telephone interviews. I made the first cut. But I'm no longer resting my hopes on making it on the team. I've other things to do. This is just one of those options. And yet... I haven't rejected it. I haven't given up. I would still like to be offered the post. The best I can do--indeed the only true thing I can do--is be myself. It's odd, I feel that they (the committee) are in a more unenviable position than I.
While I wait for a landing, at least I know the destination of the flight. We can't yet decide the specifics, but the area is circumscribed. And I know, whether I get this post or not, what my research focus will remain.
In a sense, I'm not simply waiting for the flight to land. I'm waiting at the moment for the flight to take off. Two more weeks of teaching at Lemon, then finals and another week (or so) of grading. I imagine that the last few days of a prison sentence may present the prisoner with a certain euphoria in anticipation of the freedom (also of course an apprehension regarding it). Yet the bulk of one's time in prison will remain as it has been. I find myself in this sort of condition. I long now for my freedom from the oppression of Lemon University. (Though I recognize it is an oppression I have consented to.)
Rather dramatic perhaps. But I find I don't wish to be there. I'm done. Oh, I won't give out on my students. I'll still perform my lectures, and lead discussions, and prepare my handouts, and the tests. But my heart is already gone. Sure, I consented to the oppression. I also shrugged it off. I'm just waiting for the garment to fall. It's really a shame and a pity. The students deserve a professor who is fully committed. Too bad the institution has no interest in supporting instructors in cultivating and maintaining that commitment. Too bad our society so little values the efforts of teachers.
For now, I await the ripening.
But there's an often neglected aspect to the phrase. "Hit the ground running" presents the image of being in flight, of floating, of the liminal state. That ... is where I am now. I'm in the air ("up in the air" as we say), waiting for a landing. I can't start running 'til my feet hit the ground.
I'm not good at waiting. This isn't the same waiting I've encountered however these past couple years. Rather, it's not the same sort of waiting I've grown to inhabit during these past few years. It's not the hopeless waiting in a terminal for a train that I don't expect to arrive. It's not the waiting outside a loved one's hospital room for the inevitable news I don't wish to hear.
It's simply waiting ... for the time to be ripe. I watch the oranges on our backyard tree with impatience, but also with anticipation. They will ripen; that I can expect. And so will time for me. Thursday, I have my telephone interview with the interdisciplinary search committee at Miwla College. Thursday at 5:00, after driving back from teaching at Lemon University. I had asked for a late time, so I'd be sure not to have them catch me in traffic. Should I be Brutus or Marc Antony? In this case, I suppose I opted for the latter.
I was told there might be as many as 10 telephone interviews. I made the first cut. But I'm no longer resting my hopes on making it on the team. I've other things to do. This is just one of those options. And yet... I haven't rejected it. I haven't given up. I would still like to be offered the post. The best I can do--indeed the only true thing I can do--is be myself. It's odd, I feel that they (the committee) are in a more unenviable position than I.
While I wait for a landing, at least I know the destination of the flight. We can't yet decide the specifics, but the area is circumscribed. And I know, whether I get this post or not, what my research focus will remain.
In a sense, I'm not simply waiting for the flight to land. I'm waiting at the moment for the flight to take off. Two more weeks of teaching at Lemon, then finals and another week (or so) of grading. I imagine that the last few days of a prison sentence may present the prisoner with a certain euphoria in anticipation of the freedom (also of course an apprehension regarding it). Yet the bulk of one's time in prison will remain as it has been. I find myself in this sort of condition. I long now for my freedom from the oppression of Lemon University. (Though I recognize it is an oppression I have consented to.)
Rather dramatic perhaps. But I find I don't wish to be there. I'm done. Oh, I won't give out on my students. I'll still perform my lectures, and lead discussions, and prepare my handouts, and the tests. But my heart is already gone. Sure, I consented to the oppression. I also shrugged it off. I'm just waiting for the garment to fall. It's really a shame and a pity. The students deserve a professor who is fully committed. Too bad the institution has no interest in supporting instructors in cultivating and maintaining that commitment. Too bad our society so little values the efforts of teachers.
For now, I await the ripening.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thankful for obligation
Thanksgiving. It was a quiet (at least as much as that word can apply to any time spent with my two young sons) day spent at home, with my wife, and boys, our au pair, and a friend of hers who's spending a week with us. We were going to spend the day with my mom and oldest brother, his girlfriend, my nephew, and her two daughters. But logistics (and custody issues) got the best of our plans. My other two brothers were not going to be able to make it in any case.
So, we stayed home. It's finally gotten cool here (relatively at least). It's chilly enough to make a fire at night and not feel too silly about it. I miss autumns (and winters and springs). Soon enough. Soon enough.
I've had time to think these past few days. Spent a good time reading "The Left Hand of Darkness" by Ursula Le Guin. Hadn't read her before. A thoughtful book. You never can tell, when you read a book, whether the book motivates contemplations or simply facilitates what's already being contemplated. Part of the story however involves a human species of a rather different sort of biology, thus impacting child-bearing and child-rearing.
I love my boys. I'm eagerly anticipating the arrival of number three. I really wouldn't have it any other way, childless that is. It's a choice that I made long ago. But it's not easy. Sometimes I lament the time that is spent, the time and energy that is dictated by accommodating them, their needs, their wants, their desires. I realize how much time a parent needs to give to children.
Of course, I can't be certain that time would be spent fruitfully otherwise. Aren't we all more productive when we're busy? Don't we become lax and lazy when an abundance of time presents itself? I recall my first summer back in school for the PhD. I hated it, the down time. 13 weeks! I counted the days. It was too long to go without a reason. My second summer was much easier: I enrolled in an intense summer workshop (garnering 8 credits or so of coursework). Not fully having my schedule at my service, perhaps I value more the time that is truly my own.
Of course, this is a choice as well. Many parents (perhaps fathers especially) would choose--have chosen--an easier path, shirking parental duties. I think of William Fulbright. The biography I read of him presents a man I admire in some ways, and yet one who gave little of himself to his children. I think of Alexander Graham Bell, who wrote in a letter to his wife: "...I somehow or other appear to be more interested in things than people, in people wholesale rather than in persons individual." [cited by Harlan Lane, "When the Mind Hears," p. 342]
I love my boys, our interactions. And yet, it would be false to say I wouldn't at times like a hiatus, a week or month without obligation. While I have no desire to be childless, I feel in some ways I understand better the value of liberty that those have whose choice it is to remain childless, perhaps better than they do themselves.
I think of the words of the late psycholinguist Liz Bates who defending bilingualism conceded that there is a cost in terms of the rate of cognitive development, perhaps even residual effects for adults on the speed of speech (even of thought) for those who learn more than one language fluently. She said simply: "It's like having more than one child. Sure, the first child loses out on some of your attention; your love is more spread out. But the benefits outweigh the costs."
I still smile today, thinking of her offhand remark. It is so true.
So, we stayed home. It's finally gotten cool here (relatively at least). It's chilly enough to make a fire at night and not feel too silly about it. I miss autumns (and winters and springs). Soon enough. Soon enough.
I've had time to think these past few days. Spent a good time reading "The Left Hand of Darkness" by Ursula Le Guin. Hadn't read her before. A thoughtful book. You never can tell, when you read a book, whether the book motivates contemplations or simply facilitates what's already being contemplated. Part of the story however involves a human species of a rather different sort of biology, thus impacting child-bearing and child-rearing.
I love my boys. I'm eagerly anticipating the arrival of number three. I really wouldn't have it any other way, childless that is. It's a choice that I made long ago. But it's not easy. Sometimes I lament the time that is spent, the time and energy that is dictated by accommodating them, their needs, their wants, their desires. I realize how much time a parent needs to give to children.
Of course, I can't be certain that time would be spent fruitfully otherwise. Aren't we all more productive when we're busy? Don't we become lax and lazy when an abundance of time presents itself? I recall my first summer back in school for the PhD. I hated it, the down time. 13 weeks! I counted the days. It was too long to go without a reason. My second summer was much easier: I enrolled in an intense summer workshop (garnering 8 credits or so of coursework). Not fully having my schedule at my service, perhaps I value more the time that is truly my own.
Of course, this is a choice as well. Many parents (perhaps fathers especially) would choose--have chosen--an easier path, shirking parental duties. I think of William Fulbright. The biography I read of him presents a man I admire in some ways, and yet one who gave little of himself to his children. I think of Alexander Graham Bell, who wrote in a letter to his wife: "...I somehow or other appear to be more interested in things than people, in people wholesale rather than in persons individual." [cited by Harlan Lane, "When the Mind Hears," p. 342]
I love my boys, our interactions. And yet, it would be false to say I wouldn't at times like a hiatus, a week or month without obligation. While I have no desire to be childless, I feel in some ways I understand better the value of liberty that those have whose choice it is to remain childless, perhaps better than they do themselves.
I think of the words of the late psycholinguist Liz Bates who defending bilingualism conceded that there is a cost in terms of the rate of cognitive development, perhaps even residual effects for adults on the speed of speech (even of thought) for those who learn more than one language fluently. She said simply: "It's like having more than one child. Sure, the first child loses out on some of your attention; your love is more spread out. But the benefits outweigh the costs."
I still smile today, thinking of her offhand remark. It is so true.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Headaches, now or later
I spoke with my programmers for about an hour just now. Sheesh. The good news is, we really do agree in principle on the framework for a relationship.
I suggested that they scrap the document they drafted up. Make it plain and clear. We can specify (as we did verbally) what it is we're interested in ensuring and protecting, and what we expect of our relationship. Then, when it looks good to us, I'll run it by my attorney (I invited them to participate in that discussion, whether by email or telephone), to make sure the document we agree to serves those purposes.
[SIGH] It seems at times far more complicated than it really needs to be. But I suppose it's better to have headaches at the outset, then for the real migraines to emerge after time. It's like any good relationship: the trick is not avoiding fights at all costs, but always coming back to the table. I thought of simply walking away, I did. But then, it doesn't seem that what we've been arguing about is really the crux of our work together. So, for now, I'll keep lines of communication open. And hope, hope, hope, that soon the core of our discussions will be the work itself.
- I provide them with algorithms and specifications and design requests.
- They give me feedback.
- I provide updates.
- We talk once a week.
- They provide me with source code and discussion of what they've done, how many hours, etc.
- I issue them a check for the previous week's work.
- My intellectual property is protected.
- Any methods they develop that are applicable to other clients (but which doesn't infringe on my IP) is protected as theirs.
I suggested that they scrap the document they drafted up. Make it plain and clear. We can specify (as we did verbally) what it is we're interested in ensuring and protecting, and what we expect of our relationship. Then, when it looks good to us, I'll run it by my attorney (I invited them to participate in that discussion, whether by email or telephone), to make sure the document we agree to serves those purposes.
[SIGH] It seems at times far more complicated than it really needs to be. But I suppose it's better to have headaches at the outset, then for the real migraines to emerge after time. It's like any good relationship: the trick is not avoiding fights at all costs, but always coming back to the table. I thought of simply walking away, I did. But then, it doesn't seem that what we've been arguing about is really the crux of our work together. So, for now, I'll keep lines of communication open. And hope, hope, hope, that soon the core of our discussions will be the work itself.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
I got a call
Just a little while ago, I got a call.
Rocket and I had a "date" last night. D put the boys to bed. We had planned to have an early dinner, then head out, but as it turned out, we left the house around 8:30 (normal lights out for the boys). Ah well, it was a nice dinner together. We drove to the mall, and looked over movie listings. Nothing really caught our fancy, so we walked, and sat, and talked. We like doing that.
One thing we decided was... where we're going to move (at least the rather narrow region). It's really an oblong rhomboid defined by the location of three airports, and the highways connecting them, centered on a small lake not too far from Lake Michigan. Miwla College lies on the southwestern corner of the rhomboid. Somewhere in that region will be home to us for the next 3-5 years at least.
Okay, I'm still excited about this post, and feeling rather elated that they called. The funny thing is, I'm split down the middle as to whether getting the post would be better or not getting it. But they called. That's validation, to some extent. I had been saying to Rocket, if they don't call, there's something wrong with them. I know the strength of my letter (Lilian, Rocket, feel free to chime in here!). For the first time in ~150 applications, I've been able to tear off the mask and just say, Hi, it's me, look, see, I'm just right for you guys.
But, I'll be fine -- we'll be fine if it doesn't pan out. It's really good to have made the decisions about where and when. Nicely, Miwla College would fit. Either way, I'm ready to make a splash. Waiting to hear back from my programmers, though.
I got an email from one of them yesterday, with a (badly worded) 7-page legalistic document intended to be our hiring agreement. Um... no, I wrote.
So, I await their reply. Either way, I'm moving ahead. If I need to learn another programming language, and write the code myself, I will. I'm actually feeling on top of the world. Trick is not to let that confidence produce arrogance. I'd rather hire these programmers to help translate my algorithms into executable code. But, not at the expense of my intellectual property.
The same counts for Miwla College. I am confident, and believe I have much to offer them. But then, I need to work against that confidence coming across too strong to them.
Well, I've work to do. Whatever the next few weeks deliver, that work will be done.
***Updated to say***
I just got an email from my programmers. We've got a conference call set up for tomorrow afternoon. I hope this will all go well, resolving their concerns, and mine.
Hello, this is [Geoffrey Bannon] from [Miwla College]. I'm on the search committee for [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest]...You can guess the rest, eh? I'm on their long short list, and they'd like to set up a telephone interview (for the week after Thanksgiving!). Somehow I need to sleep between now and then.
Rocket and I had a "date" last night. D put the boys to bed. We had planned to have an early dinner, then head out, but as it turned out, we left the house around 8:30 (normal lights out for the boys). Ah well, it was a nice dinner together. We drove to the mall, and looked over movie listings. Nothing really caught our fancy, so we walked, and sat, and talked. We like doing that.
One thing we decided was... where we're going to move (at least the rather narrow region). It's really an oblong rhomboid defined by the location of three airports, and the highways connecting them, centered on a small lake not too far from Lake Michigan. Miwla College lies on the southwestern corner of the rhomboid. Somewhere in that region will be home to us for the next 3-5 years at least.
Okay, I'm still excited about this post, and feeling rather elated that they called. The funny thing is, I'm split down the middle as to whether getting the post would be better or not getting it. But they called. That's validation, to some extent. I had been saying to Rocket, if they don't call, there's something wrong with them. I know the strength of my letter (Lilian, Rocket, feel free to chime in here!). For the first time in ~150 applications, I've been able to tear off the mask and just say, Hi, it's me, look, see, I'm just right for you guys.
But, I'll be fine -- we'll be fine if it doesn't pan out. It's really good to have made the decisions about where and when. Nicely, Miwla College would fit. Either way, I'm ready to make a splash. Waiting to hear back from my programmers, though.
I got an email from one of them yesterday, with a (badly worded) 7-page legalistic document intended to be our hiring agreement. Um... no, I wrote.
Here's my principal concern: I have no intention to sign any agreement that supersedes or annuls protections to my own intellectual property. My expectation is a work-for-hire agreement between the two of you and me (since the three of us are the only parties to the confidentiality agreement). As such, the software that you produce and provide to me in accordance with the specifications and scenario documents, any other related documents, emails, and discussions, is the property of [Research Firm]. That is, the product in the form of software you produce is the item I'm purchasing from you as per our agreement.They have some real concerns. They want to make sure that they will get paid fairly, and in accord with my promise to them. And, they want to ensure that should they come up with ideas that expand the work, they'll get credit (and benefit) from that. Fair enough. But, for now, the relationship is an asymmetrical one. I think of it like owning a catering business. I provide the menu and the recipes, and I hire contractors to serve as chef, executing the meal according to my specifications. Their knowledge entails the execution. But I own the recipes and the menu. Should they come up with a novel recipe, great... we'll talk about it then. Meantime...
So, I await their reply. Either way, I'm moving ahead. If I need to learn another programming language, and write the code myself, I will. I'm actually feeling on top of the world. Trick is not to let that confidence produce arrogance. I'd rather hire these programmers to help translate my algorithms into executable code. But, not at the expense of my intellectual property.
The same counts for Miwla College. I am confident, and believe I have much to offer them. But then, I need to work against that confidence coming across too strong to them.
Well, I've work to do. Whatever the next few weeks deliver, that work will be done.
***Updated to say***
I just got an email from my programmers. We've got a conference call set up for tomorrow afternoon. I hope this will all go well, resolving their concerns, and mine.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Entrepreneurial guidance for PhDs
Lemon University happens to have a highly rated program in entrepreneurship. I know because I had hoped there'd be benefits available to me, like tuition waivers. (Apparently, there are such waivers for adjuncts, but not available to newbies). I had thought I might enroll myself in some courses on the subject. I browsed through the text books they use in the bookstore, picked up a paperback, and checked out a couple books from the library.
What I came to realize is that entrepreneurship is mostly viewed as a vocation, like restaurateur, hotelier, bus driver. Most business books are disappointingly vague, and full of filler (like a bad undergraduate essay). I had been reading the volume "The Answer to How is Yes" thinking it a great image. Yes. Yes! And, though there are (ever so randomly) an occasionally pithy remark by the author, so much of the work is overwritten, and generic. But then, who'd pay $16 for a 15-page tract (likely the real length it ought to be).
I've been thumbing through "The Entrepreneurial Journey" (ISBN 0-324-17688-0) While you find sentences like "Successful entrepreneurs do things they love and for which they have a great passion," these are quickly followed up with passages that discuss the sorts of businesses each personality is best suited for. The emphasis is on how you might run your business, not on how you create a business from those passions just referred to.
The conclusion I draw is that entrepreneurship is seen as the work of business folk, not the work of researchers. But then, that simply couldn't be the whole picture. The point I make is that there appears to be little guidance out here for the motivated entrepreneurial researcher. I think of my experience and expectations in graduate school.
I never once considered the possibility that I'd be three years out from my PhD without a solid and established affiliation with a university. I never once considered it. So, all of the talks and workshops and resources that university staffers may have made available to me as a graduate student (and they did, I admit) regarding alternative careers made not a dent into my consciousness. And for most of the ensuing period, I have kept expecting that it would all work out. I wish I knew how those staffers might attract interest from those students who'd best benefit, how they might couch their information in terms that don't seem like failure ("alternative career"... you know, for those who just can't make it).
Finally, about a year ago, I hired a career and life coach, to help me break out of my rut. We met for about 4 months. It helped. I don't know if there are any other entrepreneurial-minded readers of this blog. I wish I knew of more resources available to me, guidance from those who've succeeded from similar origins. Entrepreneurship (like much of research) is a solitary and isolating activity. I wish I could find a community of like-minded folk, to help break the isolation.
What I came to realize is that entrepreneurship is mostly viewed as a vocation, like restaurateur, hotelier, bus driver. Most business books are disappointingly vague, and full of filler (like a bad undergraduate essay). I had been reading the volume "The Answer to How is Yes" thinking it a great image. Yes. Yes! And, though there are (ever so randomly) an occasionally pithy remark by the author, so much of the work is overwritten, and generic. But then, who'd pay $16 for a 15-page tract (likely the real length it ought to be).
I've been thumbing through "The Entrepreneurial Journey" (ISBN 0-324-17688-0) While you find sentences like "Successful entrepreneurs do things they love and for which they have a great passion," these are quickly followed up with passages that discuss the sorts of businesses each personality is best suited for. The emphasis is on how you might run your business, not on how you create a business from those passions just referred to.
The conclusion I draw is that entrepreneurship is seen as the work of business folk, not the work of researchers. But then, that simply couldn't be the whole picture. The point I make is that there appears to be little guidance out here for the motivated entrepreneurial researcher. I think of my experience and expectations in graduate school.
I never once considered the possibility that I'd be three years out from my PhD without a solid and established affiliation with a university. I never once considered it. So, all of the talks and workshops and resources that university staffers may have made available to me as a graduate student (and they did, I admit) regarding alternative careers made not a dent into my consciousness. And for most of the ensuing period, I have kept expecting that it would all work out. I wish I knew how those staffers might attract interest from those students who'd best benefit, how they might couch their information in terms that don't seem like failure ("alternative career"... you know, for those who just can't make it).
Finally, about a year ago, I hired a career and life coach, to help me break out of my rut. We met for about 4 months. It helped. I don't know if there are any other entrepreneurial-minded readers of this blog. I wish I knew of more resources available to me, guidance from those who've succeeded from similar origins. Entrepreneurship (like much of research) is a solitary and isolating activity. I wish I could find a community of like-minded folk, to help break the isolation.
Health coverage
Here's a quick question out to anyone who might know: what is a reasonable expectation for a new faculty member in regards to family health benefits?
I'm assuming most institutions would provide access to health coverage for spouses and children. But what would that look like? We're trying to make some calculations regarding costs, and I'd like to be able to compare a reasonable expectation of what coverage might be under a faculty plan to what it might cost us on our own.
Any ideas?
I'm assuming most institutions would provide access to health coverage for spouses and children. But what would that look like? We're trying to make some calculations regarding costs, and I'd like to be able to compare a reasonable expectation of what coverage might be under a faculty plan to what it might cost us on our own.
Any ideas?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Where passions lead
The term is winding down. The students attend in reducing numbers. Open laptops (and blank stares) populate the room. Today was a rather animated lecture. I try. There are certainly aspects of it that I enjoy. I like the captive audience. I like to share my knowledge and experience with students. That's fun. And it's meaningful. I tell them that class is not about the details that they learn, though surely it is about those things in part. And I believe what I say. It is about learning how to think, about learning how to learn, about learning how to apply their knowledge in myriad domains.
Teaching does have an impact on students. It is a worthy enterprise. And yet... I truly believe that my research, and its applications will have far greater mileage, far wider impact on society, than I will just through my teaching. Sour grapes perhaps. I've mostly been denied the chance to teach. But I'm walking away from adjuncting at Lemon at the end of this term. My choice. I enjoy teaching. I disdain the treatment of adjuncts. But to be honest, it's more than that.
I'm making choices about my life. My passions lead me back to my research. We'll see about this [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest]. I expect to hear in the next couple weeks, if they choose to interview me. I'll make that decision if it becomes mine to make. And I'll make it on the basis of what I gain through the interview process, should it go any further than now. And I'll make it with my wife on the basis of what's best for our family.
But (today)... I think that's it. I'm not sure I have it in me to apply any more for faculty gigs. I'm not sure it's what I want. We're lucky, very lucky. We've money in the bank. We've got investments whose recent downturn I can fret over. I look at losses in small-cap investments (little firms, that represent someone's passion, their dreams corporeal). And I realize--how ironic--the small firm I'd really like to invest in, is my own.
Oh, we're not rich. Not really. But we're comfortable. We're comfortable enough for Rocket to walk away from her lucrative career. With some luck and pluck, we've got enough to sustain us (in a far less expensive area) for a couple years. We'll be eating up our savings. But it's an investment. (That's what they told me about an education, about a college degree. That's what I took all those damned student loans for.)
But this is different. This is an investment in me. This is an investment in my family, in our passions, our hopes, our dreams. This is an investment in something I believe in, something I can dedicate myself to. This is something about which the question "would you do it for free" is no longer hypothetical. I do do it for free.
I'm taking the chance. I'm no longer asking for it.
Teaching does have an impact on students. It is a worthy enterprise. And yet... I truly believe that my research, and its applications will have far greater mileage, far wider impact on society, than I will just through my teaching. Sour grapes perhaps. I've mostly been denied the chance to teach. But I'm walking away from adjuncting at Lemon at the end of this term. My choice. I enjoy teaching. I disdain the treatment of adjuncts. But to be honest, it's more than that.
I'm making choices about my life. My passions lead me back to my research. We'll see about this [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest]. I expect to hear in the next couple weeks, if they choose to interview me. I'll make that decision if it becomes mine to make. And I'll make it on the basis of what I gain through the interview process, should it go any further than now. And I'll make it with my wife on the basis of what's best for our family.
But (today)... I think that's it. I'm not sure I have it in me to apply any more for faculty gigs. I'm not sure it's what I want. We're lucky, very lucky. We've money in the bank. We've got investments whose recent downturn I can fret over. I look at losses in small-cap investments (little firms, that represent someone's passion, their dreams corporeal). And I realize--how ironic--the small firm I'd really like to invest in, is my own.
Oh, we're not rich. Not really. But we're comfortable. We're comfortable enough for Rocket to walk away from her lucrative career. With some luck and pluck, we've got enough to sustain us (in a far less expensive area) for a couple years. We'll be eating up our savings. But it's an investment. (That's what they told me about an education, about a college degree. That's what I took all those damned student loans for.)
But this is different. This is an investment in me. This is an investment in my family, in our passions, our hopes, our dreams. This is an investment in something I believe in, something I can dedicate myself to. This is something about which the question "would you do it for free" is no longer hypothetical. I do do it for free.
I'm taking the chance. I'm no longer asking for it.
The feeding of despair
or Why Thanksgiving couldn't come soon enough.
I have often noted convergences in my life. These aren't mystical events. They have more to do with one's own consciousness, one's own awareness of the world around. But, for me, they serve the function of validating me on a particular course.
I heard a news report the other day, about a bird native to South America being discovered (2000 miles away) in the very town where [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest] is. Convergence. That's what I mean. Years ago, when my mother bought an AMC Pacer, I had never heard of them before. But suddenly, after she brought it home, I saw them everywhere. Convergence.
Of course, convergences can be neutral in their impact, or even negative. When I'm feeling particularly down or grouchy, then what I hear and see is interpreted through the fog of this lens.
I hear a news report on NPR about South Carolina voters' reactions to Mitt Romney's faith, and my heart races with the absurdities they spout. "It's not a Biblical-based, Judeo-Christian religion. It's a cult." "In addition to the Bible, they believe in another book." Do these people simply not hear themselves? Are they so unaware of the irony of one true believer assaulting the faith of another because, gasp, they believe in something different? It breaks my heart. More importantly, it scares me.
I hear about the happenings in Pakistan, and I shudder. I shudder to read news stories that refer without qualifications to Musharraf as "President" or to his hand-picked, anointed Attorney General or his allegiance-swearing Supreme Court, as if they have any moral authority or legitimacy. I hear about the current crackdowns in Iran on such ungodly things as makeup, and unapproved films. And the continuing conditions in Darfur and Iraq. These are convergences to me that the world has gone insane.
And yet, so far, these things do not touch my daily life. I'm still free to fret over the treatment of adjuncts at U.S. universities (knowing full well that this treatment would be a godsend to most of the world's population). But then, I've never thought it makes much sense to justify impropriety by comparing it to even worse improprieties. The world ought to be a better place.
Tikkun Olam. We have work to do.
I have often noted convergences in my life. These aren't mystical events. They have more to do with one's own consciousness, one's own awareness of the world around. But, for me, they serve the function of validating me on a particular course.
I heard a news report the other day, about a bird native to South America being discovered (2000 miles away) in the very town where [Interdisciplinary Post of Interest] is. Convergence. That's what I mean. Years ago, when my mother bought an AMC Pacer, I had never heard of them before. But suddenly, after she brought it home, I saw them everywhere. Convergence.
Of course, convergences can be neutral in their impact, or even negative. When I'm feeling particularly down or grouchy, then what I hear and see is interpreted through the fog of this lens.
I hear a news report on NPR about South Carolina voters' reactions to Mitt Romney's faith, and my heart races with the absurdities they spout. "It's not a Biblical-based, Judeo-Christian religion. It's a cult." "In addition to the Bible, they believe in another book." Do these people simply not hear themselves? Are they so unaware of the irony of one true believer assaulting the faith of another because, gasp, they believe in something different? It breaks my heart. More importantly, it scares me.
I hear about the happenings in Pakistan, and I shudder. I shudder to read news stories that refer without qualifications to Musharraf as "President" or to his hand-picked, anointed Attorney General or his allegiance-swearing Supreme Court, as if they have any moral authority or legitimacy. I hear about the current crackdowns in Iran on such ungodly things as makeup, and unapproved films. And the continuing conditions in Darfur and Iraq. These are convergences to me that the world has gone insane.
And yet, so far, these things do not touch my daily life. I'm still free to fret over the treatment of adjuncts at U.S. universities (knowing full well that this treatment would be a godsend to most of the world's population). But then, I've never thought it makes much sense to justify impropriety by comparing it to even worse improprieties. The world ought to be a better place.
Tikkun Olam. We have work to do.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Bad, bad adjunct
You know, I looked. There is no policy. Of course not, why would there be any reasonable policies regarding the invisible 55% of the faculty. Yeah, you read right! 55% of the faculty at Lemon are part-timers, with no benefits, no job security, and low wages.
But, you see, there's no policy on sick leave or faculty absences from class (for adjuncts). I even called to ask. They don't know. So, my department secretary agreed to put a sign on the door. I've been grading away, and prepping. But I just really don't feel up to going today. Yesterday I nearly lost my voice in class. I've been feeling lousy for a while. Is it really a crime to take a day to recuperate?
I thought of finishing grading the tests, then driving the two hour Wednesday late-afternoon commute, handing them back, collecting their projects due before Thanksgiving (this is the last class meeting before then), then begging off from the lecture, and driving the 1 1/2 hours back. That is, I considered expending the next six hours or so to keep up appearances. But how silly that would be. The students would gain so little from my showing up, then leaving without a class session. I'm really not up to giving a lecture. So, what's the point? They can email me for their grades. They can send electronic version of their projects, or drop off hard copies at the department before next Wednesday.
You know, most people wouldn't ever feel guilty about legitimately calling in sick one day. Why do teachers?
But, you see, there's no policy on sick leave or faculty absences from class (for adjuncts). I even called to ask. They don't know. So, my department secretary agreed to put a sign on the door. I've been grading away, and prepping. But I just really don't feel up to going today. Yesterday I nearly lost my voice in class. I've been feeling lousy for a while. Is it really a crime to take a day to recuperate?
I thought of finishing grading the tests, then driving the two hour Wednesday late-afternoon commute, handing them back, collecting their projects due before Thanksgiving (this is the last class meeting before then), then begging off from the lecture, and driving the 1 1/2 hours back. That is, I considered expending the next six hours or so to keep up appearances. But how silly that would be. The students would gain so little from my showing up, then leaving without a class session. I'm really not up to giving a lecture. So, what's the point? They can email me for their grades. They can send electronic version of their projects, or drop off hard copies at the department before next Wednesday.
You know, most people wouldn't ever feel guilty about legitimately calling in sick one day. Why do teachers?
Pakistan's Musharraf: let's get this straight
No, Mr. Bush, Musharraf is not and has never been an ally of the United States. He is a dictator. He is not a freely elected democratic leader. He has suspended Pakistan's own constitution. He has thrown out the judiciary (a judiciary that was at the moment considering the legality of his having most recently stood for election as President, while holding office that he obtained through a coup!). He sent one opposition leader, Nawaz Sharif, back into exile, despite the ruling by Pakistan's Supreme Court that he had an inalienable right to return.
Apparently, over the past several months, the U.S. government had worked to broker a power sharing deal between Musharraf and another opposition leader, Benazir Bhutto, who was allowed to return (though suspiciously street lights were out just before a suicide bomber nearly succeeded in her assassination). Was it a setup? Was it hoped she would be killed, as a pretense for a state of emergency that has been declared in any case? Was she foolish in thinking it proper to share power with such a man? Probably. Now at least she has put aside that foolishness.
No, President (how it pains me to use that title for you) Bush, Musharraf is not an ally and friend. He is a pathetic (and dangerous) opportunist. Do not forget that it was under his government that A.Q. Khan sold nuclear secrets to North Korea, Libya, and Iran. It was Musharraf personally who pardoned him the very next day! This is no friend and ally. Have we learned nothing from the past failures of American foreign policy?
To be clear: the United States should never treat the likes of Musharraf as friends. If necessary, we may treat them (with cautious suspicion) as strategic interests.
Apparently, over the past several months, the U.S. government had worked to broker a power sharing deal between Musharraf and another opposition leader, Benazir Bhutto, who was allowed to return (though suspiciously street lights were out just before a suicide bomber nearly succeeded in her assassination). Was it a setup? Was it hoped she would be killed, as a pretense for a state of emergency that has been declared in any case? Was she foolish in thinking it proper to share power with such a man? Probably. Now at least she has put aside that foolishness.
No, President (how it pains me to use that title for you) Bush, Musharraf is not an ally and friend. He is a pathetic (and dangerous) opportunist. Do not forget that it was under his government that A.Q. Khan sold nuclear secrets to North Korea, Libya, and Iran. It was Musharraf personally who pardoned him the very next day! This is no friend and ally. Have we learned nothing from the past failures of American foreign policy?
To be clear: the United States should never treat the likes of Musharraf as friends. If necessary, we may treat them (with cautious suspicion) as strategic interests.
Three years down. Only way is up!
March of 2005, I sent the final version of my dissertation to my four committee members, scattered to the four corners of the country. With a bit of harranguing, logistical coordination, and trepidation (in the meantime moving my family from Colorado back to California) I received all the signatures on the same one cover sheet, and filed the work in time to graduate at the end of the Spring term 2005. The chair of my former department agreed begrudgingly to hood me (incorrectly!) in the ceremony that gave me a PhD, three letters to follow my name as needed, and the "Dr." title, so far used sparingly.
That ended my first season of applying for faculty jobs, still optimistic (hard not to be when my first campus interview occurred in October before I finished the dissertation). No jobs in hand, but a Visiting Scholar appointment in a second department at my alma mater. What ensued is largely chronicled in my old blog. I sought and suffered, stressed, and angered. I lamented, and withdrew. And I applied... one job posting after another. All told, in the past three years, I've applied for ~150 jobs mostly in academia (a few related).
This week has been a strange one for me. Today marks 7 days since the interdisciplinary post of interest closed. They asked for 3 references. I had 6 sent. Six letters, from faculty at at four institutions, covering at least three distinct fields of study, all of which I expect to be glowing. While I sent another application a few days ago for a position in [Field 1/subfield 1], the ostensible area of my degree, it was half-hearted.
As I wrote to my wife at the time:
Yesterday, I sent off a note to my two programmers, saying I know you were planning to send me a proposal, and some feedback on my specifications documents, and such... here's what I propose: [details]. Let me know if those terms are acceptable to you. I'd like to get this project going ASAP. As of December, it is my entire focus.
They wrote me back: terms accepted; they're ready to go!
As I wrote a few days ago, I am ready!
That ended my first season of applying for faculty jobs, still optimistic (hard not to be when my first campus interview occurred in October before I finished the dissertation). No jobs in hand, but a Visiting Scholar appointment in a second department at my alma mater. What ensued is largely chronicled in my old blog. I sought and suffered, stressed, and angered. I lamented, and withdrew. And I applied... one job posting after another. All told, in the past three years, I've applied for ~150 jobs mostly in academia (a few related).
This week has been a strange one for me. Today marks 7 days since the interdisciplinary post of interest closed. They asked for 3 references. I had 6 sent. Six letters, from faculty at at four institutions, covering at least three distinct fields of study, all of which I expect to be glowing. While I sent another application a few days ago for a position in [Field 1/subfield 1], the ostensible area of my degree, it was half-hearted.
As I wrote to my wife at the time:
Nothing much new under the sun. I sent off my application to [Institution]. I felt a distinct lack of enthusiasm in preparing it. I went through the motions, and did my best. Deadline is Thursday. I figured it's now or never. I figured it's better to apply though than to simply let this one go. There are certainly benefits to the post. It's not much teaching (2+2). There's some interest in [true subfield]. The pay is decent, and it might be a good place for us to live.Money, money, money. It's not about that really. It's about freedom of choice, and about following our passions. It's about setting our priorities, and living by them. We've already decided to walk away from Rocket's high income, and to leave these expensive and inhospitable parts. The deadlines are coming due. But now I'm the one who's setting them.
Part of me is ready to gamble on [interdisciplinary post of interest ("come on red 19") or walk out of the casino, throw a dart at the map, and catch the next train. Partly there's a bitterness from my recent experience at Lemon (perhaps not fair to paint all of academia with that brush), and the residue from the past three years of supplication. I'm done with being prostrate. It's time to stand tall again. ...
I'm committed to Lemon until around the third week in December (grades due by the 23rd). You're at work for about another month after that. I guess there's no need for us to decide on our landing spot until the Spring. I'll have to decide about whether I'm going to send any January applications if [Interdisciplinary post] fails. But then, I'd be terribly disappointed, and much less enthusiastic. I'm less and less interested in keeping my eyes open, less and less clear on what an ideal post might look like.
I think of my comment on Tracy's blog, re: "success" being the harder course. What would be success, right now? It's harder and harder to see a faculty post that eats up all my time and energy as really succeeding. I've been neglecting [my Research Firm] for over a month now, and it still seems like where I want to invest myself.
Trust with me! "Your money or your life." "Do what you love and the money will follow."
Yesterday, I sent off a note to my two programmers, saying I know you were planning to send me a proposal, and some feedback on my specifications documents, and such... here's what I propose: [details]. Let me know if those terms are acceptable to you. I'd like to get this project going ASAP. As of December, it is my entire focus.
They wrote me back: terms accepted; they're ready to go!
As I wrote a few days ago, I am ready!
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Harder than it looks
Partly in response to the prodding of Geeky Mom's recent blog post on technology and the classroom, I tried an experiment tonight in my lecture class. It's big (37 students), but not too big to be adventurous. First, I had several of the students look up and play on their laptops the recent video, "A Vision of Students Today" on YouTube, and we had a brief discussion of it. Then, I decided to have an experiential day, where the students would teach each other the material, rather than my normal lecture. I broke the class into 8 groups, with each group responsible to cover one section of our reading. They had about 20 minutes to review their section and discuss it within the group. (This is a three hour lecture, so I could afford the time). The idea was if they took more ownership of the material, it might be instructive to them, and give them a better focus in approaching their reading.
What I learned (rather important to be reminded of, given the circumstances) is that it takes a bit more than simply reading and summarizing to make a good lecture. I, being who I am (luckily for the students, I'm sure) chimed in repeatedly, to clarify ideas, and to guide the discussion toward what struck me as important or pithy points. It really is a lot harder than it looks. I suppose even when we feel impostor syndrome the most, we're bringing a lot more to the table than simply staying a step ahead of the students on material. It's always good to be reminded of that.
What I learned (rather important to be reminded of, given the circumstances) is that it takes a bit more than simply reading and summarizing to make a good lecture. I, being who I am (luckily for the students, I'm sure) chimed in repeatedly, to clarify ideas, and to guide the discussion toward what struck me as important or pithy points. It really is a lot harder than it looks. I suppose even when we feel impostor syndrome the most, we're bringing a lot more to the table than simply staying a step ahead of the students on material. It's always good to be reminded of that.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Learning to teach
Part of the frustration with adjuncting (and I suppose with many faculty jobs these days) is the need to learn something new in order to teach it. It's not that I am in principle opposed to lifelong learning (to the contrary). But there is something false in a teacher keeping one or two steps ahead of the students. There's something inappropriate about being hired to teach a course I am not expert in, when there are so many experts in the subject who could teach it.
My Wednesday night class is of this sort. I've never taught it before (a fact which was well-known to the committee that hired me). Sure, I have a knowledge base to draw from, and astute comments to add to the discussion, metaphors and illumination to contribute to the readings. But I tire of the effort to produce a lecture from material that is unfamiliar to me. At least, because my interests and my heart lead me elsewhere just now.
But why do they hire a non-expert? Because the priorities are skewed. Class sizes should be smaller. More courses should be offered. More faculty should be hired. Those best able to teach a subject should be used whenever possible. The sad thing is that my leaving will have no effect on this state of affairs, so long as there is someone else willing to step in and fill my shoes.
My Wednesday night class is of this sort. I've never taught it before (a fact which was well-known to the committee that hired me). Sure, I have a knowledge base to draw from, and astute comments to add to the discussion, metaphors and illumination to contribute to the readings. But I tire of the effort to produce a lecture from material that is unfamiliar to me. At least, because my interests and my heart lead me elsewhere just now.
But why do they hire a non-expert? Because the priorities are skewed. Class sizes should be smaller. More courses should be offered. More faculty should be hired. Those best able to teach a subject should be used whenever possible. The sad thing is that my leaving will have no effect on this state of affairs, so long as there is someone else willing to step in and fill my shoes.
Monday, November 5, 2007
White (chicken) risotto
Last night's dinner, inspired by the presence of white asparagus at the grocery store:
White Chicken Risotto
One medium onion, diced.
1/2 cup of celery, diced.
1-2 cups of white button mushrooms, quartered.
~ 3/4 lb of chicken meat, cubed.
1/2 lb of white asparagus, cut into 2" parts.
1/2 cup marinated artichoke hearts.
2 cups arborio (or other short-grained) rice.
1/4-1/2 tsp of saffron, chopped.
dash or two of white pepper.
~ 4 cups chicken (or vegetable) stock.
1/2 cup cream or half-and-half.
1/4-1/2 cup of grated parmesan cheese.
Precook the rice in 2 cups of water, until all the water is absorbed (about 15-20 minutes). Partly steam the asparagus. Meantime, saute up the onions and celery in some olive oil or butter. Add white pepper to taste. Stir in the chicken cubes, and lightly brown. Add the rice, and stir for 2-4 minutes. Add the mushrooms, and gently stir another minute or two. Add the saffron to the mix and stir. Slowly stir in the stock, 1/2-1 cup at a time. Add the asparagus and artichokes. Gently stir. Cook over medium-low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. Just before serving, mix in the cream and parmesan cheese, stir over medium heat for 1-2 minutes. Remove from heat.
The nice thing about an all-white meal (served in this case on "movie night" with dim lighting) is that it forestalls most questions from young boys about what's in the meal. It's just stuff.
White Chicken Risotto
One medium onion, diced.
1/2 cup of celery, diced.
1-2 cups of white button mushrooms, quartered.
~ 3/4 lb of chicken meat, cubed.
1/2 lb of white asparagus, cut into 2" parts.
1/2 cup marinated artichoke hearts.
2 cups arborio (or other short-grained) rice.
1/4-1/2 tsp of saffron, chopped.
dash or two of white pepper.
~ 4 cups chicken (or vegetable) stock.
1/2 cup cream or half-and-half.
1/4-1/2 cup of grated parmesan cheese.
Precook the rice in 2 cups of water, until all the water is absorbed (about 15-20 minutes). Partly steam the asparagus. Meantime, saute up the onions and celery in some olive oil or butter. Add white pepper to taste. Stir in the chicken cubes, and lightly brown. Add the rice, and stir for 2-4 minutes. Add the mushrooms, and gently stir another minute or two. Add the saffron to the mix and stir. Slowly stir in the stock, 1/2-1 cup at a time. Add the asparagus and artichokes. Gently stir. Cook over medium-low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. Just before serving, mix in the cream and parmesan cheese, stir over medium heat for 1-2 minutes. Remove from heat.
The nice thing about an all-white meal (served in this case on "movie night" with dim lighting) is that it forestalls most questions from young boys about what's in the meal. It's just stuff.
Density (as told to a five year old)
In response to Mommazen's discussion of "teachable moments" in parenting, I think of my trip this morning to drop off the Painter at kindergarten. A delightful morning greeted us, with grey skies and heavy drops of moisture on the grass, the ground, and the car. (Recall the recent awful wildfires here. Grey skies and rain are heaven sent!)
Me: They call this dew. When the moisture in the air condenses on cold mornings, we call it dew.Fun. But I wonder how soon he'll outgrow my explanations?
Painter: [Looking at me intently, as he gets in his car seat].
Me: See... um... on cold mornings... let's see. When it's cold outside, the moisture in the air condenses, the moisture in the air, that's in the form of a gas, becomes a liquid, water... and since water is denser than air it forms on the ground and surfaces like the top of the car. See, everything in the world is made up of atoms.
Painter: [Amazingly, still intently listening at this point, as I fumble to clarify my own somewhat vague understanding, trying to remember my undergraduate paper on the topic of "caloric".]
Me: Atoms are these little tiny particles, they're so small you can't see them, except with a microscope. We call them microscopic. So everything is made up of these tiny atoms, and well, when the temperature is warmer, they're further apart and moving faster. But when the temperature is lower, these atoms move closer together, and become denser. [Desperately trying to figure out whether temperature is the cause or the result of this state of affairs. Remembering that the 18th century theory of caloric as a substance certainly served to simplify this question.]
Painter: What's that mean?
Me: Density?
Painter: Yeah.
Me: Um... okay, some things are heavier than other things, right?
Painter: Yeah.
Me: Well, some things that are even the same size, can have different weights.
Painter: No... I think everything that's the same size weighs the same thing.
Me: Okay, well, have you ever picked up a crumpled ball of paper? [Knowing of course that he has.]
Painter: No.
Me: Have you ever picked up a rock?
Painter: Yeah.
Me: Have you ever picked up a leaf that was the same size as a rock?
Painter: No.
Me: [So he's going to be difficult.] Alright, have you ever picked up a ball? Like a tennis ball?
Painter: Yeah.
Me: Have you ever picked up an orange?
Painter: Yeah.
Me: Well, an orange is about the same size as a tennis ball. Which one is heavier?
Painter: The orange could be bigger.
Me: Well, we can weigh them this afternoon, on my kitchen scale, or on the scale we made with the board to weigh the weights outside. [Thinking until we get into the parking spot.] Ah... here's one that you can't dispute. Let's say I give you an empty water bottle.
Painter: Okay.
Me: Now I give you another water bottle, filled with water. Do you think they'll weigh the same?
Painter: [laughing] No! I think the water bottle with the water would be a lot heavier.
Me: You're right... see, they're the same size, but the empty water bottle isn't really empty. It's full of air. And water is a lot denser than air. So that's density.
Painter: So... you mean nothing's ever empty? There's always air?
Me: Yeah, nothing on the earth is ever really empty. Well, unless it's in a vacuum... [Very glad that we're almost to the classroom now.]
Eye-glazing
Something about grading tests leads one to distraction. Last week brought two stacks of tests and two assignments. I decided this time around to grade section by section, rather than test by test. It's a bit more efficient, I think. My goal is not to let these papers remain on my desk longer than necessary.
I've graded the first half of all the tests in my Wednesday night class, and completed about a dozen of the Thursday tests, with the remaining 20-odd 3/4 finished (just their essay question remains). At times it's painful to read the essays, because so many of our students these days seem to lack the basic framework for thinking through a problem, then presenting their ideas in a coherent fashion. And, with 72 students, there's little chance that my criticism will actually lead to their benefit and improvement. It's frustrating, because as a teacher, I feel a great desire to leave them better off than when they came to me, not simply stuffed with a few more tidbits of information.
I feel this semester fading from me. Only six more weeks separate me from the end of my time at Lemon. What will await me at the end of this tour? That, I simply don't know.
This weekend, I did some thinking and scribbling of thoughts related to resolving the algorithm for this key element that remains to me for the proof-of-concept tools. It felt good to get back into it a bit. This morning, I sat in my office for perhaps two hours doing little to nothing. I took care of some bills, and looked at my calendar, and read emails. I was avoiding the grading, but not finding the energy to work on my research.
Partly it's also the uncertainty that lies before us that saps my energy. Rocket and I have made some important decisions, and set some deadlines. I let my membership in one of the main academic societies of my field lapse at the end of October. That's significant, because they host the most prominent job listing services in the field. I still have some search agents running, and receive the announcement list from the other main society. I decided however that I will not apply for faculty jobs in 2008. That leaves essentially until the end of this semester for me to keep looking.
After the broadcasting of applications the previous couple seasons, I've only submitted four so far this time around. I'm planning on one more in the next couple weeks. After that, who knows? I'm tired of the game. But more than that, I've clarified my requirements in a post, and am no longer looking for any job. I'm only seeking one that'd be just right for me. Rather, I've got a job, that's my research, and figuring out how to keep funding it, and marketing it as needed. If I can land an academic post that supports me in this research, where I can make an honest contribution, that'd be ideal. Shy of that, I know what needs to be done.
Perhaps knowing the light is on at the end of the tunnel, allows me to take my time getting to the exit. The grading will be done. There's no point in stressing over how much time and energy teaching at Lemon takes away from higher priorities (my research, building my firm, my family, even my health-which has taken a decided downturn as a result of the commuting, breathing the pollution, and the resultant changes in my diet). Six weeks remain. I will make it, and I'll do what I can not to compromise my teaching or my life.
I've graded the first half of all the tests in my Wednesday night class, and completed about a dozen of the Thursday tests, with the remaining 20-odd 3/4 finished (just their essay question remains). At times it's painful to read the essays, because so many of our students these days seem to lack the basic framework for thinking through a problem, then presenting their ideas in a coherent fashion. And, with 72 students, there's little chance that my criticism will actually lead to their benefit and improvement. It's frustrating, because as a teacher, I feel a great desire to leave them better off than when they came to me, not simply stuffed with a few more tidbits of information.
I feel this semester fading from me. Only six more weeks separate me from the end of my time at Lemon. What will await me at the end of this tour? That, I simply don't know.
This weekend, I did some thinking and scribbling of thoughts related to resolving the algorithm for this key element that remains to me for the proof-of-concept tools. It felt good to get back into it a bit. This morning, I sat in my office for perhaps two hours doing little to nothing. I took care of some bills, and looked at my calendar, and read emails. I was avoiding the grading, but not finding the energy to work on my research.
Partly it's also the uncertainty that lies before us that saps my energy. Rocket and I have made some important decisions, and set some deadlines. I let my membership in one of the main academic societies of my field lapse at the end of October. That's significant, because they host the most prominent job listing services in the field. I still have some search agents running, and receive the announcement list from the other main society. I decided however that I will not apply for faculty jobs in 2008. That leaves essentially until the end of this semester for me to keep looking.
After the broadcasting of applications the previous couple seasons, I've only submitted four so far this time around. I'm planning on one more in the next couple weeks. After that, who knows? I'm tired of the game. But more than that, I've clarified my requirements in a post, and am no longer looking for any job. I'm only seeking one that'd be just right for me. Rather, I've got a job, that's my research, and figuring out how to keep funding it, and marketing it as needed. If I can land an academic post that supports me in this research, where I can make an honest contribution, that'd be ideal. Shy of that, I know what needs to be done.
Perhaps knowing the light is on at the end of the tunnel, allows me to take my time getting to the exit. The grading will be done. There's no point in stressing over how much time and energy teaching at Lemon takes away from higher priorities (my research, building my firm, my family, even my health-which has taken a decided downturn as a result of the commuting, breathing the pollution, and the resultant changes in my diet). Six weeks remain. I will make it, and I'll do what I can not to compromise my teaching or my life.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
I am ready
I keep looking at the job postings, mostly in my ostensible subfield. I've looked over other listings in the interdisciplinary area of my interest (but most of those listings are specified within another discipline, limiting their appeal to me, and my appeal to them). I'm excited by this post in the Midwest because the position would honor the truly interdisciplinary nature of the area of research. There are disciplines, and there are interdisciplines, and there is cross-disciplinary work involving more than one discipline to address a specific question. These three should not be confused, but respected to each keep their appropriate place.
A few more posts crop up. I look at them. Some seem reasonable or possible. But mostly, I'm ready to say who I am. I'm ready to enter any interview or negotiation with absolute confidence that I don't need the job. I'm ready to pursue my research with the dedication of a life's work. I'm ready to assess opportunities to teach according to whether they further this life's work or detract from it. The thought of having a job (with its salary and community and benefits) to move to is comforting for the security it engenders. But I'm ready to make the move regardless. I'm ready to build my ideas into a business, and that business into a success. This summer, whatever the circumstance, we move.
I'm ready!
A few more posts crop up. I look at them. Some seem reasonable or possible. But mostly, I'm ready to say who I am. I'm ready to enter any interview or negotiation with absolute confidence that I don't need the job. I'm ready to pursue my research with the dedication of a life's work. I'm ready to assess opportunities to teach according to whether they further this life's work or detract from it. The thought of having a job (with its salary and community and benefits) to move to is comforting for the security it engenders. But I'm ready to make the move regardless. I'm ready to build my ideas into a business, and that business into a success. This summer, whatever the circumstance, we move.
I'm ready!
Friday, November 2, 2007
Getting my head back on
I sit here, trying to get back into thinking about my research. It's been nearly a month since my meeting with the programmers. I think we're going to hammer out an agreement, but they've been somewhat dragging their feet. They'd like to set themselves up as independent contractor/consultants, and are trying to put together an agreement according to their plans. I talked with one of them last weekend, about where things stand, and such. He seemed eager to say that he was sure we'd be able to work out an arrangement that made us both happy. But this is all new to them (trying to build a business of their own), thus the delays.
But, truth be told, I've been bogged down these past couple weeks with grading, and being sick, and applying for jobs (in particular this interdisciplinary post which I'm excited about). It's proving tough for me to slip back into the research, especially since the immediate task for me is figuring out the hardest part of the algorithm for the toolset I need to develop. It's really the crucial element that will allow me to accomplish much of what I'm planning the proofs-of-concept to prove. It's just not been done before. And while I have a handle on the outline of how to do it, working out all the specifics, the order of steps and such, and being sure that I've got it right, takes all my energy, something which hasn't been available for use.
I feel myself still holding on to my desire to struggle, to fight injustice, to standard-bear for the cause of education in this country, push to have it on the political agenda. I'm torn between my desire to fight the good fight, and my desire just to be the best I can at what I do well. There is a logical part of me that thinks it's better to be successful now, and trust myself that I will do good in society with my success, than to expend my energies feeling indignant and self-righteous (at the risk of never accomplishing that success which might lend more import to my opinions and actions). Protest is easy. Change is hard.
It's a difficult choice for me, to let go of that. I've never been the quiet tinkerer behind-the scenes. I've always been out front, on the stage, never the set crew or on the lights. Stars come and go, but the crew often remains, making show after show a success.
I believe in my research. I believe in its worth, not only commercial, but its value for society. I also believe in myself, that should I be allowed financial success, I would do well with it.
The flames have died down outside; let my heart catch fire again!
But, truth be told, I've been bogged down these past couple weeks with grading, and being sick, and applying for jobs (in particular this interdisciplinary post which I'm excited about). It's proving tough for me to slip back into the research, especially since the immediate task for me is figuring out the hardest part of the algorithm for the toolset I need to develop. It's really the crucial element that will allow me to accomplish much of what I'm planning the proofs-of-concept to prove. It's just not been done before. And while I have a handle on the outline of how to do it, working out all the specifics, the order of steps and such, and being sure that I've got it right, takes all my energy, something which hasn't been available for use.
I feel myself still holding on to my desire to struggle, to fight injustice, to standard-bear for the cause of education in this country, push to have it on the political agenda. I'm torn between my desire to fight the good fight, and my desire just to be the best I can at what I do well. There is a logical part of me that thinks it's better to be successful now, and trust myself that I will do good in society with my success, than to expend my energies feeling indignant and self-righteous (at the risk of never accomplishing that success which might lend more import to my opinions and actions). Protest is easy. Change is hard.
It's a difficult choice for me, to let go of that. I've never been the quiet tinkerer behind-the scenes. I've always been out front, on the stage, never the set crew or on the lights. Stars come and go, but the crew often remains, making show after show a success.
I believe in my research. I believe in its worth, not only commercial, but its value for society. I also believe in myself, that should I be allowed financial success, I would do well with it.
The flames have died down outside; let my heart catch fire again!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Even the Economist can get it wrong
This morning over breakfast, I pulled out an old Economist magazine (this one from 22 September 2007). There's an article on WuXi PharmaTech, a Chinese pharmaceutical research outsourcer. Here's the statistic that caught my eye: "...and, as in so many other industries in China, labour is cheap. Starting salaries for a PhD are $23,000 a year, compared with $200,000 a year in America, according to UBS, an investment bank."
Wow... if UBS really provided that, you'd think an investment bank could do better research. Starting salaries of $200,000 a year for a PhD! Feh! Not in this world. I just don't see it. Perhaps Lilian will disillusion me of my skepticism that even pharmatech doesn't pay that much to starting PhDs, but...
And, with articles that offhandedly provide such statistics, I can imagine why the general public might think all PhDs are overpaid, spoiled complainers, rolling in wealth and benefits. I just don't see it.
Wow... if UBS really provided that, you'd think an investment bank could do better research. Starting salaries of $200,000 a year for a PhD! Feh! Not in this world. I just don't see it. Perhaps Lilian will disillusion me of my skepticism that even pharmatech doesn't pay that much to starting PhDs, but...
And, with articles that offhandedly provide such statistics, I can imagine why the general public might think all PhDs are overpaid, spoiled complainers, rolling in wealth and benefits. I just don't see it.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Adjunct math
So... I was thinking about it, you know, now that I've decided to walk away from Lemon University. I just wanted to be sure that I was being fair about it. See, you know, I mean, colleges and universities have a lot of expenses, right? (I mean, aside from building unnecessary courtyards and such). So, I took a look at it and did some calculations:
Tuition on my campus runs somewhere north of $15,000 per semester per student (for 12-18 credits). Their website says that 79% of students receive financial aid, and that the average aid package is about $20,000 year. Now, how much of that is loans, I can't say, but let's assume that half of it is loans or subsidies from outside sources (Pell grants and external scholarships and such), and that half is outright scholarship money or waivers from the university itself.
Okay, that's $15,000 - 10,000 /.79 (got it?). Bear in mind, I'm applying all of that aid to the cost of tuition, none of it to other costs, like housing or food or books. That comes out to an average of $6329 per student per term. Let's assume the average undergrad takes 16 credits per term. That comes to about $396 per credit hour per student per term.
So, I've got 72 students, each carrying 3 units. Meaning, the university is pulling in somewhere in the range of $85,000 for my labor. That's just for my labor. There are other fees, but those are separate. I'm being generous here, no? I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt on most of this, arguing in their favor. Hey, let's even round it down... let's say they pull in only $75,000 for my teaching. And... let's see, they share out about 10% of that with me through salary.
Am I missing something here? Is there any reason I shouldn't feel taken advantage of? Is there any reason I should have even the slightest regret for walking away from the abuse? I mean, to be explicit, would it really be too much to ask that they would split these classes into two sections, pay me twice as much, plus benefits. Let's say benefits add about 50% to the cost of an employee. So... that'd be $15,000 per term plus 50%: $22,500 (we're not talking high wages here--bear this in mind, our rent is $2000/month for a modest home). That'd still leave them somewhere north of $50,000 PROFIT each term! Not a bad return on investment, eh? As I plan to say to the Chancellor: there are many excuses for this circumstance, but no defense.
Where the hell does the rest of the money go? What are they doing with that extra $65,000, $75,000, $150,000 per term per adjunct? Whatever it comes out to, it's sure to be more than the low end? Is there really anything that could be said in defense of a policy that nets so much for the university, yet takes so much out its adjuncts, and short-changes its students?
ADJUNCTS:Walk Run away! Do not take this anymore! It's not worth it. The sooner we revolt, the sooner it will change--for the good of us all, for the good of our students, for the good of society.
Tuition on my campus runs somewhere north of $15,000 per semester per student (for 12-18 credits). Their website says that 79% of students receive financial aid, and that the average aid package is about $20,000 year. Now, how much of that is loans, I can't say, but let's assume that half of it is loans or subsidies from outside sources (Pell grants and external scholarships and such), and that half is outright scholarship money or waivers from the university itself.
Okay, that's $15,000 - 10,000 /.79 (got it?). Bear in mind, I'm applying all of that aid to the cost of tuition, none of it to other costs, like housing or food or books. That comes out to an average of $6329 per student per term. Let's assume the average undergrad takes 16 credits per term. That comes to about $396 per credit hour per student per term.
So, I've got 72 students, each carrying 3 units. Meaning, the university is pulling in somewhere in the range of $85,000 for my labor. That's just for my labor. There are other fees, but those are separate. I'm being generous here, no? I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt on most of this, arguing in their favor. Hey, let's even round it down... let's say they pull in only $75,000 for my teaching. And... let's see, they share out about 10% of that with me through salary.
Am I missing something here? Is there any reason I shouldn't feel taken advantage of? Is there any reason I should have even the slightest regret for walking away from the abuse? I mean, to be explicit, would it really be too much to ask that they would split these classes into two sections, pay me twice as much, plus benefits. Let's say benefits add about 50% to the cost of an employee. So... that'd be $15,000 per term plus 50%: $22,500 (we're not talking high wages here--bear this in mind, our rent is $2000/month for a modest home). That'd still leave them somewhere north of $50,000 PROFIT each term! Not a bad return on investment, eh? As I plan to say to the Chancellor: there are many excuses for this circumstance, but no defense.
Where the hell does the rest of the money go? What are they doing with that extra $65,000, $75,000, $150,000 per term per adjunct? Whatever it comes out to, it's sure to be more than the low end? Is there really anything that could be said in defense of a policy that nets so much for the university, yet takes so much out its adjuncts, and short-changes its students?
ADJUNCTS:
Blogger meet up?
I have a handful of regular readers in my neck of the woods (Greater L.A./Orange County), lurkers who have assiduously avoided revealing themselves in comments. But, of course, your IP addresses leave a trace of your activities. And, some of you know who I am; I'm sure of it. I'd like to issue an invitation to any of you who are willing to come out of the woodwork: I'd be pleased to meet you over a cup of coffee sometime. Just let me know. My email's on the sidebar.
A slow return
As some of you may have noticed from my emergence in comments on other blogs, and by the ever so incremental increases to my blog roll, I'm slowly returning. Returning that is to a real presence as a blogger. In the two years I've been involved with the blogosphere, I've realized that part of the commitment to the community is not only to add your content to the ether, but also to read others, comment, reflect, react, link. I've been a somewhat negligent party in that regard, since I started OFI/OFO, partly because I needed the space just to be. I needed some time and energy to get past the post-PhD Blues to where I am today, and where I'm heading. But didn't want to disappear. I'm back to reading more, and am beginning to delurk a bit.
I miss many of the interactions I used to have with you. Just thought I'd let you know.
I miss many of the interactions I used to have with you. Just thought I'd let you know.
Friday, October 26, 2007
End Game?
Today, I wrote up a draft for my application letter to the interdisciplinary post I've been writing about. It's long, but exceedingly specific. It needs quite a bit of editing. It currently runs a full three pages. But they're three pages of "here's what you said you're looking for, here's what I would do" scenarios.
I realized in writing up this draft that this is the first time in three years that I'm applying for a position for which I feel ideally suited, and which I firmly believe I would love serving in. One thing that really appeals to me is that both of the guys I spoke with (the chair of the committee, and another member of the committee) have what seems to be only a vague idea of exactly how this new line will play out. They have a sense that this interdisciplinary area is valuable and interesting, that it would enrich the campus, and appeal to the students. But neither of them considers themselves an expert in the area.
And I find myself not only an expert of sorts, but also well-prepared and well-suited to taking up such a role, criss-crossing campus, making connections and links, designing courses both whole-cloth from my own ideas, and in collaboration with them, listening and responding to their needs and desires. At my doctoral institution, I essentially minored in this interdiscipline, taking quite an active role in the all-volunteer interdisciplinary program. It was, in many ways, far more my home on campus than my ostensible home department. I proposed, designed, and taught one term of the interdisciplinary seminar that served as backbone of the program, something which no graduate student had ever done before (and so far as I know has never done since).
I found myself looking over old statements of purpose that I had drafted for my applications to graduate school, and even quoted part of one from 1998, which indicates without a shred of doubt that I have been fully committed to this interdiscipline since before I began my doctorate. I've spent a decade working in that area. This is the first time I am able to write up a letter in application for a faculty post where I'm not trying to fit a mold, but simply displaying my own plume. This is me, unadorned. After citing that 1998 statement of purpose, I was proudly able to write "I have remained true to that mission."
It seems this may be my endgame. This quite possibly will be the last position I apply for, willy-nilly so to speak. It'd be hard for me to climb down from this horse, should I not be offered the job. This is the sort of post I've been waiting for.
That said, nothing's perfect. I know that. There'd still be aspects of this that would be "work". But, if I land this post, I'll be getting all that I've really expected from academia: a chance to teach and research in an area that truly excites me, all the while still being able to maintain a connection to the discipline of my Master's and my Doctorate. I'd be taking off the masks and costumes, and enjoying the squeaks and gaps of the home that I have built, sanding here, planing there, as needed.
In part, this attitude is fueled by the realization that my true subdiscipline is essentially dead in North America. The last position in my true subdiscipline that I applied for (nearly a year ago now!) wound up being rewritten as another type of job entirely. There simply are no jobs in the area. Yet this position would enable me not only to teach within that true subdiscipline, but also to teach more general courses in the interdiscipline that help define the where and wherefores of this true subdiscipline, place it in a broader context, and explore that context. It's not the next best thing to landing a post in true subdiscpline, it's better!
Monday, I polish the draft and submit it. And all that, yet I remain open-eyed to the reality that I don't need this job. I am fully content to forge out on my own, develop my research firm, develop and file the patents, work to build a client base, and a path toward developing commercial applications of the technology. I am me again. I am on the bridge to the next stage. I just don't know what's yet across the water.
I realized in writing up this draft that this is the first time in three years that I'm applying for a position for which I feel ideally suited, and which I firmly believe I would love serving in. One thing that really appeals to me is that both of the guys I spoke with (the chair of the committee, and another member of the committee) have what seems to be only a vague idea of exactly how this new line will play out. They have a sense that this interdisciplinary area is valuable and interesting, that it would enrich the campus, and appeal to the students. But neither of them considers themselves an expert in the area.
And I find myself not only an expert of sorts, but also well-prepared and well-suited to taking up such a role, criss-crossing campus, making connections and links, designing courses both whole-cloth from my own ideas, and in collaboration with them, listening and responding to their needs and desires. At my doctoral institution, I essentially minored in this interdiscipline, taking quite an active role in the all-volunteer interdisciplinary program. It was, in many ways, far more my home on campus than my ostensible home department. I proposed, designed, and taught one term of the interdisciplinary seminar that served as backbone of the program, something which no graduate student had ever done before (and so far as I know has never done since).
I found myself looking over old statements of purpose that I had drafted for my applications to graduate school, and even quoted part of one from 1998, which indicates without a shred of doubt that I have been fully committed to this interdiscipline since before I began my doctorate. I've spent a decade working in that area. This is the first time I am able to write up a letter in application for a faculty post where I'm not trying to fit a mold, but simply displaying my own plume. This is me, unadorned. After citing that 1998 statement of purpose, I was proudly able to write "I have remained true to that mission."
It seems this may be my endgame. This quite possibly will be the last position I apply for, willy-nilly so to speak. It'd be hard for me to climb down from this horse, should I not be offered the job. This is the sort of post I've been waiting for.
That said, nothing's perfect. I know that. There'd still be aspects of this that would be "work". But, if I land this post, I'll be getting all that I've really expected from academia: a chance to teach and research in an area that truly excites me, all the while still being able to maintain a connection to the discipline of my Master's and my Doctorate. I'd be taking off the masks and costumes, and enjoying the squeaks and gaps of the home that I have built, sanding here, planing there, as needed.
In part, this attitude is fueled by the realization that my true subdiscipline is essentially dead in North America. The last position in my true subdiscipline that I applied for (nearly a year ago now!) wound up being rewritten as another type of job entirely. There simply are no jobs in the area. Yet this position would enable me not only to teach within that true subdiscipline, but also to teach more general courses in the interdiscipline that help define the where and wherefores of this true subdiscipline, place it in a broader context, and explore that context. It's not the next best thing to landing a post in true subdiscpline, it's better!
Monday, I polish the draft and submit it. And all that, yet I remain open-eyed to the reality that I don't need this job. I am fully content to forge out on my own, develop my research firm, develop and file the patents, work to build a client base, and a path toward developing commercial applications of the technology. I am me again. I am on the bridge to the next stage. I just don't know what's yet across the water.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Document the life
Regular readers will have been following my tribulations as an adjunct, and my decision to leave. As I mentioned, I've been toying with an open letter to the Chancellor of Lemon University. I thought about attending tomorrow's "town hall" styled meeting on the future of Lemon, to raise some of the concerns I have about their overuse and abuse of adjuncts. Partly, that thought is spoiled by my standing obligation to volunteer in the Painter's kindergarten class on Fridays.
But I came up with an idea this evening that may prove more fruitful than merely confronting the Chancellor. First off, let me say that (after four years full-time as a political activist years ago), I long ago came to the conclusion that it's better to be heard (to have an impact on changing unfair or unjust policies) than it is to be right. Protests are meaningless if they have no effect on the object of their ire. That said, offending the Chancellor, or merely venting my own frustrations would likely have no or an opposite effect from that I wish to have.
But... wouldn't it be wonderful to produce a documentary on the life of the post-doc and adjunct in America? It's a major election period in America. There are some wonderful candidates out there talking about real issues. (I think of Al Franken, for instance). And there are those arguing stupid points (I think of Diane Feinstein complaining that Allstate has decided to cease offering new homeowner's insurance policies in California, and intimating that government should step in to prevent insurers from "cherry picking" their markets).
Why not make this a real issue, front and center? There's chatter about the rising costs of higher education, but no real viable solutions. Why not talk up how abusing PhDs with low-paid, no-benefits, no-job-security adjuncting hurts our society's best and brightest, while short-changing the students whose costs keep rising? Why not force politicians to take a stand on our nations priorities, and be counted among those truly supporting public funding for higher education in this country? Why not help to shift our priorities from $700 billion per year in "defense" spending, to setting goals for improving this nation's colleges and universities?
If Michael Moore won't make such a documentary, perhaps someone should! And, it just so happens that Lemon has a fine school of film studies, and that some of my students happen to be majors. I'll have to see what's possible. Anyone interested?
But I came up with an idea this evening that may prove more fruitful than merely confronting the Chancellor. First off, let me say that (after four years full-time as a political activist years ago), I long ago came to the conclusion that it's better to be heard (to have an impact on changing unfair or unjust policies) than it is to be right. Protests are meaningless if they have no effect on the object of their ire. That said, offending the Chancellor, or merely venting my own frustrations would likely have no or an opposite effect from that I wish to have.
But... wouldn't it be wonderful to produce a documentary on the life of the post-doc and adjunct in America? It's a major election period in America. There are some wonderful candidates out there talking about real issues. (I think of Al Franken, for instance). And there are those arguing stupid points (I think of Diane Feinstein complaining that Allstate has decided to cease offering new homeowner's insurance policies in California, and intimating that government should step in to prevent insurers from "cherry picking" their markets).
Why not make this a real issue, front and center? There's chatter about the rising costs of higher education, but no real viable solutions. Why not talk up how abusing PhDs with low-paid, no-benefits, no-job-security adjuncting hurts our society's best and brightest, while short-changing the students whose costs keep rising? Why not force politicians to take a stand on our nations priorities, and be counted among those truly supporting public funding for higher education in this country? Why not help to shift our priorities from $700 billion per year in "defense" spending, to setting goals for improving this nation's colleges and universities?
If Michael Moore won't make such a documentary, perhaps someone should! And, it just so happens that Lemon has a fine school of film studies, and that some of my students happen to be majors. I'll have to see what's possible. Anyone interested?
Growing enthusiasm
I spent another 20 or 30 minutes on the phone this morning with another member of the search committee for the interdisciplinary post in the Midwest. He's from an entirely different department, and had been referred to me by the chair as another person I might like to talk to. My enthusiasm only grows. I felt a great rapport with him, and he mostly confirmed what I was told by the search committee chair. He must have felt a level of rapport with me as well, as he recounted tales of meeting his wife and such, along with descriptions of his research, and what they are seeking in this post. He ended by saying that he looked for my materials and noticed I hadn't submitted any yet, but that he would certainly encourage me to apply.
I'm ready to court, though I hope I won't end up "on top of old smoky".
I'm ready to court, though I hope I won't end up "on top of old smoky".
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Conflagration
Oheň předcházà jej a zapaluje vůkol nepřátele jeho.
I think of Dvořák's Biblical Songs: "Fire sends he forth, conflagrating around his enemies".
The sky is a dull gray-blue, mottled throughout with patches and streaks of brown. The air smells of dead wood and flame. Ash dusts my vehicle as I leave the house. Sunrise and sunset these past two days have evinced an orange glow. The moon sits at night as if behind a veil of faded beige.
So far, all of my students are safe, and their families. Only one absence yesterday. I'll ask again in class tonight.
I can only hope that this will soon pass. The heat that surrounds us is unrelenting, not the 109F of the summer, but unwelcome in the 90s at the end of October. The air is unbreathable. My lungs, and eyes, and ears are stuffed and itchy. On campus yesterday, the winds brought only the scent of death and destruction, rather than any breeze of relief.
Southern California and Mexico burn. Send us rain!
I think of Dvořák's Biblical Songs: "Fire sends he forth, conflagrating around his enemies".
The sky is a dull gray-blue, mottled throughout with patches and streaks of brown. The air smells of dead wood and flame. Ash dusts my vehicle as I leave the house. Sunrise and sunset these past two days have evinced an orange glow. The moon sits at night as if behind a veil of faded beige.
So far, all of my students are safe, and their families. Only one absence yesterday. I'll ask again in class tonight.
I can only hope that this will soon pass. The heat that surrounds us is unrelenting, not the 109F of the summer, but unwelcome in the 90s at the end of October. The air is unbreathable. My lungs, and eyes, and ears are stuffed and itchy. On campus yesterday, the winds brought only the scent of death and destruction, rather than any breeze of relief.
Southern California and Mexico burn. Send us rain!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Torn between in and out
The tour of duty as an adjunct has certainly calcified my anger towards the low esteem with which education is treated in this country. I heard this morning's NPR report on the cost of the war in Iraq. Bush (who thinks $35 billion over five years for S-CHIP is too costly) is asking for an additional $46 billion for the current fiscal year alone, to continue the failed fiasco in Iraq. And he has the audacity to call for an "all or nothing" vote. FUCK HIM! Excuse my French.
Just think what good this nation could do around the world if we spent $700 billion a year (the current level for defense spending) on education. Pity the poor fiscalconservatives profligasts who bemoan the possibility of increased taxes under a Democratic administration. What I care about is not the level of taxes, but the level of spending. If we're taxed like Europeans, but the spending reflects real and decent priorities, then tax away my friends! But if we're spending so much on failure and destruction around the globe, and padding the pockets of our friends with their no-bid over-priced contracts, then what the hell is there to be proud of?
Okay, enough of the rant.
What I began to write about is my personal conflict with continuing to pursue a career in academia. Just as I'm ready to walk away and close the door, I see lights at the end of the hallway, and I wonder... what's on the other end?
A couple weeks ago, my old advisor/chair of my dissertation committee (Tasse Plein) sent me an email lauding a particular post. This is for you, he implored, apply for it. I checked out their website, and found another posting for an interdisciplinary position, to spearhead a new effort which is right up my alley. Yesterday, I spent 38 minutes on the phone with the chair of that search committee. Everything he said sounded perfect.
It's a 2+3 teaching load, with class size no larger than 20 students! The position would be a one-person show for now, preparing all new courses, developing a curriculum in this particular cross-disciplinary area of study, coordinating and collaborating with professors and students from across the campus, teaching probably 2 courses per year within the home discipline. It's a highly selective small liberal arts school, located about an hour from my inlaws.
I then spent about 20 minutes on the phone with someone at that school within the discipline of my PhD, to discuss the position that Tasse Plein had alerted me to. She was friendly, enthusiastic, supportive, interested. She described an influx of new blood in the department, and their moving in new directions. I wrote to thank her for her time, and to ask if she might not send a note or make a phone call to the other search committee chair, to offer the department's support for cross-disciplinary efforts in the area of the other position (since that particular department had not be considered one of the core ones). She wrote back that she'd be delighted to, and that she would also look forward to spending some time with my materials for the position open within the department.
And so, I've regained a desire to forge ahead with this one last season of applying. I'm particularly drawn to courting this one school, with its two attractive positions. Courting them, I like that idea.
I want to believe that it'd still allow me time for my research, for developing the ideas and applications that I am pursuing currently outside academia. With courses capped at 20, assuming a negligible commute, I might have close to twice the time currently. Sure, some more of that time will be spent prepping and designing new courses (if I were to get the interdisciplinary post) but this is an area I'm excited by. That work would be a pleasure (even if it would necessarily include some drudgery).
The cost of living there is significantly below the national average, and the cost of housing is about a 1/3 the national average!
After so many ups and downs, it's hard to remember or fathom just what it is I really want. Mostly, what I am sure of, I want to engage in interesting work. I want to pursue the questions that fire my passions. I want to share those passions. I want to pursue them to logical conclusions, then move on to other questions. If that describes the life of an academic then fine. If not, I'm a committed entrepreneur. Ideally, I am both, with students and clients, with a title and a dream.
Only time shall tell.
Just think what good this nation could do around the world if we spent $700 billion a year (the current level for defense spending) on education. Pity the poor fiscal
Okay, enough of the rant.
What I began to write about is my personal conflict with continuing to pursue a career in academia. Just as I'm ready to walk away and close the door, I see lights at the end of the hallway, and I wonder... what's on the other end?
A couple weeks ago, my old advisor/chair of my dissertation committee (Tasse Plein) sent me an email lauding a particular post. This is for you, he implored, apply for it. I checked out their website, and found another posting for an interdisciplinary position, to spearhead a new effort which is right up my alley. Yesterday, I spent 38 minutes on the phone with the chair of that search committee. Everything he said sounded perfect.
It's a 2+3 teaching load, with class size no larger than 20 students! The position would be a one-person show for now, preparing all new courses, developing a curriculum in this particular cross-disciplinary area of study, coordinating and collaborating with professors and students from across the campus, teaching probably 2 courses per year within the home discipline. It's a highly selective small liberal arts school, located about an hour from my inlaws.
I then spent about 20 minutes on the phone with someone at that school within the discipline of my PhD, to discuss the position that Tasse Plein had alerted me to. She was friendly, enthusiastic, supportive, interested. She described an influx of new blood in the department, and their moving in new directions. I wrote to thank her for her time, and to ask if she might not send a note or make a phone call to the other search committee chair, to offer the department's support for cross-disciplinary efforts in the area of the other position (since that particular department had not be considered one of the core ones). She wrote back that she'd be delighted to, and that she would also look forward to spending some time with my materials for the position open within the department.
And so, I've regained a desire to forge ahead with this one last season of applying. I'm particularly drawn to courting this one school, with its two attractive positions. Courting them, I like that idea.
I want to believe that it'd still allow me time for my research, for developing the ideas and applications that I am pursuing currently outside academia. With courses capped at 20, assuming a negligible commute, I might have close to twice the time currently. Sure, some more of that time will be spent prepping and designing new courses (if I were to get the interdisciplinary post) but this is an area I'm excited by. That work would be a pleasure (even if it would necessarily include some drudgery).
The cost of living there is significantly below the national average, and the cost of housing is about a 1/3 the national average!
After so many ups and downs, it's hard to remember or fathom just what it is I really want. Mostly, what I am sure of, I want to engage in interesting work. I want to pursue the questions that fire my passions. I want to share those passions. I want to pursue them to logical conclusions, then move on to other questions. If that describes the life of an academic then fine. If not, I'm a committed entrepreneur. Ideally, I am both, with students and clients, with a title and a dream.
Only time shall tell.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Halloween pudding
It is a constant struggle to get the Painter to eat his fruits and vegetables. It's not that he's actually a picky eater, at least not as I've come to understand that concept. See, it's not that he actually dislikes the taste of most foods. He's got a rather accepting palate. But refusing to eat things seems to have more to do with his desire to control his environment, including having control over mommy and daddy. He learned a while ago that we consistently react to issues of his diet with great concern. Unfortunately, we must have reinforced his refusals enough that he randomly changes his tastes: [scream] you know I don't like [fill in the blank with something he happily devoured three days earlier].
Sometimes we still take the bait, but the arguments are endless, and fruitless, and normally unpleasant. So, I've resorted to all sorts of subterfuge to trick him into eating things. Last night we had "cheesy scallops" otherwise known as scalloped potatoes, because he refuses to eat potatoes. He really liked the "cheesy scallops" (mark that up as success, but we'll see what happens next time I try it).
Tonight was leftover veal scallopini (with mushrooms & wilted romaine lettuce) from two nights ago, along with the "cheesy scallops" and some turmeric rice from last night (which accompanied poached salmon with julienne carrot and celery--he ate the fish, but refused the "julienne strips" Ah well, worth a try). But how to get him to eat veggies tonight? We had some leftover broccoli from last night, and acorn squash from two nights ago. Aha!
So, I scraped the acorn squash from their shells, added with milk and cream to the blender. Blended until smooth (you need a good blender, trust me). Warm in the microwave with some brown sugar. Stir, then chill. After dinner, we had this "Halloween pudding" served with whipped cream and holiday sprinkles. It was devoured.
I'm pleased. A new tradition!
Sometimes we still take the bait, but the arguments are endless, and fruitless, and normally unpleasant. So, I've resorted to all sorts of subterfuge to trick him into eating things. Last night we had "cheesy scallops" otherwise known as scalloped potatoes, because he refuses to eat potatoes. He really liked the "cheesy scallops" (mark that up as success, but we'll see what happens next time I try it).
Tonight was leftover veal scallopini (with mushrooms & wilted romaine lettuce) from two nights ago, along with the "cheesy scallops" and some turmeric rice from last night (which accompanied poached salmon with julienne carrot and celery--he ate the fish, but refused the "julienne strips" Ah well, worth a try). But how to get him to eat veggies tonight? We had some leftover broccoli from last night, and acorn squash from two nights ago. Aha!
So, I scraped the acorn squash from their shells, added with milk and cream to the blender. Blended until smooth (you need a good blender, trust me). Warm in the microwave with some brown sugar. Stir, then chill. After dinner, we had this "Halloween pudding" served with whipped cream and holiday sprinkles. It was devoured.
I'm pleased. A new tradition!
Friday, October 19, 2007
It's hard to remain silent
Those of you who have been following the saga of my adjuncting, have heard me say that I will walk away from it, leave the fight behind, protest in silence. Well, silence is hard. I've been toying with the idea of drafting a letter (most likely an "open letter") to be sent to the chancellor at Lemon.
This is wrong. Sure, I can walk away from it. But it doesn't gladden me. It's not pleasant to walk away from the students who thank me for coming to teach at their school. It's not easy to leave behind those faces of curiosity. God, what it means to inspire these kids! To see the aha on their faces! I am angry. I am angry that I am pushed away from that world.
But I know it is these same students (as well as me) who are being short-changed by the policies. 40 students in a class, with one teacher, no TA. Times 2, and only part-time. Are the students worth so little, that an instructor should gloss over their work? Is the time for consultations with students so disregarded that (though it is required) it doesn't count towards time spent by the instructor.
In industry, when a highly skilled consultant works part-time, they are accommodated with significantly higher pay (say 2-3 times higher) than their full-time colleagues' hourly wage. This is meant to make up for their lack of benefits and job security, and for the increased percentage of time they spend getting to and from work. (If I commute 2 hours a day for 8 hours of work, that comes out to a far lower percentage of time than spending 2 hours commuting for 1 hour of work).
But not in academia! Why not? Only because we tolerate it. But... the buck must stop!
It is time to tell the administrators (and the politicians who spend our tax dollars--yes, even underpaid and overworked adjuncts pay taxes!) that this is wrong! It is time to tell them that we will no longer tolerate it. It is time to say no. But to say no with a loud voice.
To extend Dylan Thomas' words: do not go gentle into that good night!
I will not.
This is wrong. Sure, I can walk away from it. But it doesn't gladden me. It's not pleasant to walk away from the students who thank me for coming to teach at their school. It's not easy to leave behind those faces of curiosity. God, what it means to inspire these kids! To see the aha on their faces! I am angry. I am angry that I am pushed away from that world.
But I know it is these same students (as well as me) who are being short-changed by the policies. 40 students in a class, with one teacher, no TA. Times 2, and only part-time. Are the students worth so little, that an instructor should gloss over their work? Is the time for consultations with students so disregarded that (though it is required) it doesn't count towards time spent by the instructor.
In industry, when a highly skilled consultant works part-time, they are accommodated with significantly higher pay (say 2-3 times higher) than their full-time colleagues' hourly wage. This is meant to make up for their lack of benefits and job security, and for the increased percentage of time they spend getting to and from work. (If I commute 2 hours a day for 8 hours of work, that comes out to a far lower percentage of time than spending 2 hours commuting for 1 hour of work).
But not in academia! Why not? Only because we tolerate it. But... the buck must stop!
It is time to tell the administrators (and the politicians who spend our tax dollars--yes, even underpaid and overworked adjuncts pay taxes!) that this is wrong! It is time to tell them that we will no longer tolerate it. It is time to say no. But to say no with a loud voice.
To extend Dylan Thomas' words: do not go gentle into that good night!
I will not.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Where stops the buck?
Harry S. Truman, 33rd president of the United States, serving from the time of Franklin D. Roosevelt's death while in office, April 12, 1945, is known for having had a sign on his desk that read "The Buck Stops Here!" I wonder at that. It seems the buck ought stop more often, in more places. How often have we heard (or otherwise experienced) "I'm sorry, but that's not my job".
Last night, while making copies of handouts for my Wednesday evening class, the executive administrative staffer for my program at Lemon stepped in to say he'd just gotten an email from Sara, saying that I wouldn't be joining them in the Spring. Yes, I said, mostly it's a personal choice. "I wish the commute were not so damn long. But... I also wish that Lemon would treat it's adjuncts with more... dignity. The classes are too large. There's easily enough students to open up more sections, and hire faculty full-time with benefits."
He raised an eyebrow at my use of the term "dignity". Ah... he explained well, you know, it comes from the ... from the Chancellor. They keep bothering us over our numbers. We've got courses with 18 or 19 students, which they want to have 21. And, well, those courses you teach. They want us to open up more sections. But they want 40 in each one. And, well, you know, we can't hire adjuncts full-time. It- it- it comes down from the Chancellor, you know?
Always passing the buck. At a certain point, someone simply needs to stand up and say enough! To some extent, the fault doesn't lie with the likes of my friend Sara nor with [administrative staffer]. To a large extent, the fault lies with people like me. Because, as odd as it may sound (feeling most powerless at times) it is adjuncts who enable the administration of colleges and universities to continue their abhorrent practices.
The power really lies with us, at least with us collectively. So long as someone else will step into my shoes to be abused by the system, to fill the role of working part-time, underpaid, without benefits, teaching far more students than can possibly be (reasonably) accommodated in the time allotted, the buck can always be passed.
I wonder at my choices and my actions. They haven't come to me easily. But I need my dignity (and my time) more than I need the contract. I wonder if perhaps I haven't let down some of my new friends here, who may have seen me to be a potential leader of an adjuncts' revolt, organizing, unionizing, campaigning, protesting. (Perhaps I'm too grandiose). What I know of myself (and of my experience--both my 4 years full-time as a political activist/campaigner years ago, and my active leadership role with graduate students at my doctoral institution--not to mention my student politics activity more than 20 years ago at CCNY) is that I could do those things.
But I've stepped off the battle field. I've chosen to walk away from it. But I have not forgotten. It's more a silent protest, but in ways I believe far more powerful. I've simply said "No!" No more. I won't suffer the treatment that is beneath me. Institutions of higher learning (ah... what a misnomer at times) have become addicted to their drug of choice: cheap, quality labor. I care too much about my friend (this somewhat fallen Academia) to enable that addiction, to support it, to permit it. Like with an alcoholic, the healing must come from within. I, as a friend, can merely hold up a mirror. I can take the drink away, but I can't remove the desire. The addict may simply need to bottom out first. If that drug, that cheap labor, is no longer readily available perhaps it will give the addict the space to reassess.
That, is my hope.
Last night, while making copies of handouts for my Wednesday evening class, the executive administrative staffer for my program at Lemon stepped in to say he'd just gotten an email from Sara, saying that I wouldn't be joining them in the Spring. Yes, I said, mostly it's a personal choice. "I wish the commute were not so damn long. But... I also wish that Lemon would treat it's adjuncts with more... dignity. The classes are too large. There's easily enough students to open up more sections, and hire faculty full-time with benefits."
He raised an eyebrow at my use of the term "dignity". Ah... he explained well, you know, it comes from the ... from the Chancellor. They keep bothering us over our numbers. We've got courses with 18 or 19 students, which they want to have 21. And, well, those courses you teach. They want us to open up more sections. But they want 40 in each one. And, well, you know, we can't hire adjuncts full-time. It- it- it comes down from the Chancellor, you know?
Always passing the buck. At a certain point, someone simply needs to stand up and say enough! To some extent, the fault doesn't lie with the likes of my friend Sara nor with [administrative staffer]. To a large extent, the fault lies with people like me. Because, as odd as it may sound (feeling most powerless at times) it is adjuncts who enable the administration of colleges and universities to continue their abhorrent practices.
The power really lies with us, at least with us collectively. So long as someone else will step into my shoes to be abused by the system, to fill the role of working part-time, underpaid, without benefits, teaching far more students than can possibly be (reasonably) accommodated in the time allotted, the buck can always be passed.
I wonder at my choices and my actions. They haven't come to me easily. But I need my dignity (and my time) more than I need the contract. I wonder if perhaps I haven't let down some of my new friends here, who may have seen me to be a potential leader of an adjuncts' revolt, organizing, unionizing, campaigning, protesting. (Perhaps I'm too grandiose). What I know of myself (and of my experience--both my 4 years full-time as a political activist/campaigner years ago, and my active leadership role with graduate students at my doctoral institution--not to mention my student politics activity more than 20 years ago at CCNY) is that I could do those things.
But I've stepped off the battle field. I've chosen to walk away from it. But I have not forgotten. It's more a silent protest, but in ways I believe far more powerful. I've simply said "No!" No more. I won't suffer the treatment that is beneath me. Institutions of higher learning (ah... what a misnomer at times) have become addicted to their drug of choice: cheap, quality labor. I care too much about my friend (this somewhat fallen Academia) to enable that addiction, to support it, to permit it. Like with an alcoholic, the healing must come from within. I, as a friend, can merely hold up a mirror. I can take the drink away, but I can't remove the desire. The addict may simply need to bottom out first. If that drug, that cheap labor, is no longer readily available perhaps it will give the addict the space to reassess.
That, is my hope.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Game called on account of climate change stagnation
Hi Articulate,
No problem on the delay in responding--you were ruminating on many things! I totally understand your position, and your business does sound exciting. I could not have kept up my part-time teaching at Lemon either, past that one year. It was our only source of income at the time, so I had to keep it up until the end of the year. But I would have had to give up too, had I not gotten the full-time gig. I hope very very much that you get a full-time position--maybe one of the ones you're applying to will pan out. Let me know if you want me to send that letter (with appropriate changes) anywhere else--I'm happy to do it of course. And I hope we can still all get together sometimes for dinners! That was really fun. I'm looking forward to meeting the new baby.
I know this was a difficult decision for you, but as I said, I totally understand. I will therefore start looking for someone else to teach [your courses]--yes? I can certainly have [administrative staffer] send you your evals. They typically don't come out until late February--Lemon takes so long for everything. And you have an entire semester of teaching now, to add to your CV.
Thank you for doing this teaching this semester--it helped us out a lot. I'm really sorry that Lemon won't/can't budge on enrollment numbers, or salary, or part-time status, etc. I do hope you know that I am just the messenger and have no input into those decisions! I would certainly decide otherwise.
Let's keep in touch frequently!
Sara
Shepherd's pie
The Painter: Yeah, pie. That's a dessert. I want pie for dinner.
Me: Well... it's not exactly pie... I mean it's not a dessert. But I think you'll like it.
Two thinly sliced uncooked potatoes to line the pan. Spray pan lightly with oil or butter, layer potato slices, spray or top with butter. 5-6 medium potatoes, peeled, cooked, and mashed for topping.
I used five kinds of mushrooms (halved or quartered), yum! Thinly sliced red onions, yellow onions, shallots, and pearl onions (halved). Lots of freshly sliced garlic. Sauté in pan with butter and olive oil, paprika, black pepper, and salt, to taste.
Thinly sliced or chopped lamb. Add lamb to onion/garlic mix, stir until gently cooked. Add mushrooms. Thinly sliced carrots & celery. Add and toss. Mix in frozen corn & peas. I added edamame (soybeans) and 2-3 tablespoons of miso paste. A few dashes of Worcestorshire sauce, and some thick (sweet) soysauce. Add some red wine, if you have it handy. Mix and stir (gently so as not to destroy the mushrooms).
Cook for about 15-20 minutes. Add water (or other liquid) as needed. Mix in some cornstarch rue (if desired) for thickening. Pour stew onto layer of potatoes. Spoon and spread the mashed potatoes (best if they're fairly thinned with milk) on top. Gently fork the potatoes, to create ridges. Top with some paprika and butter, and/or grated cheese (okay, it's not kosher, but it's delish). Heat in over (375F) for about 20 minutes. Broil for a couple minutes if needed to brown top.
Serve. Eat. Have seconds, thirds.
Even the Painter ate a good portion, and he didn't even notice the pieces of celery and carrots (after I mixed them back into a few forkfuls) that he had painstakingly picked out.
Me: Well... it's not exactly pie... I mean it's not a dessert. But I think you'll like it.
Two thinly sliced uncooked potatoes to line the pan. Spray pan lightly with oil or butter, layer potato slices, spray or top with butter. 5-6 medium potatoes, peeled, cooked, and mashed for topping.
I used five kinds of mushrooms (halved or quartered), yum! Thinly sliced red onions, yellow onions, shallots, and pearl onions (halved). Lots of freshly sliced garlic. Sauté in pan with butter and olive oil, paprika, black pepper, and salt, to taste.
Thinly sliced or chopped lamb. Add lamb to onion/garlic mix, stir until gently cooked. Add mushrooms. Thinly sliced carrots & celery. Add and toss. Mix in frozen corn & peas. I added edamame (soybeans) and 2-3 tablespoons of miso paste. A few dashes of Worcestorshire sauce, and some thick (sweet) soysauce. Add some red wine, if you have it handy. Mix and stir (gently so as not to destroy the mushrooms).
Cook for about 15-20 minutes. Add water (or other liquid) as needed. Mix in some cornstarch rue (if desired) for thickening. Pour stew onto layer of potatoes. Spoon and spread the mashed potatoes (best if they're fairly thinned with milk) on top. Gently fork the potatoes, to create ridges. Top with some paprika and butter, and/or grated cheese (okay, it's not kosher, but it's delish). Heat in over (375F) for about 20 minutes. Broil for a couple minutes if needed to brown top.
Serve. Eat. Have seconds, thirds.
Even the Painter ate a good portion, and he didn't even notice the pieces of celery and carrots (after I mixed them back into a few forkfuls) that he had painstakingly picked out.
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