The Lone Ranger
01-25-2005, 06:06 AM
I apologize for the convoluted nature of this post. Hopefully, it’ll make sense as it unfolds.
I got my master’s degree from a pretty well-thought-of university back in North Carolina. During that time, I discovered that I really enjoy teaching. I also discovered that I’m not quite as enthusiastic about doing research.
As it happened, the husband of a fellow grad student at the time was teaching as an adjunct at a small, private women’s college across town. When he was getting ready to leave, they asked him if he could suggest a replacement, and he gave them my name. So, I went over for an interview, they liked me for some reason, and they hired me as an adjunct professor.
I really enjoyed teaching there. It’s a small school, so I had small classes and could deal with the students as individuals. I could also do neat things like take them on field trips. I’d even get invited to participate in student activities on occasion. For example, a bunch of students decided they would like to spend the day exploring the North Carolina Zoo, and invited me along to act as a guide of sorts.
I always got good evaluations because – as many of the students wrote in said evaluations – it was very clear that I really enjoyed teaching. Without a doctorate, though, I couldn’t be hired on a permanent basis. Some of the faculty/staff members there told me on more than one occasion that if only I had a doctorate, they’d love to hire me on a full-time, tenure-track basis.
Well, I’m not completely unteachable, and besides, I was getting tired of the poverty wages and lack of benefits that are an adjunct’s lot in life, not to mention the uncertainty of knowing whether or not I would even be employed during the coming semester. So, I eventually went back to grad school to get a doctorate.
One thing that I’ve learned in grad school is that I’m very sick of the amazingly common attitude in certain academic circles that teaching is a waste of time and that no person with any “real talent” should aspire to do so. So, I’ve become more and more convinced that what I really want is to wind up at some nice small private college like the one where I’d taught as an adjunct. There I could teach – and if I feel like doing some research on the side that’s fine, but publishing “X” number of papers per year isn’t a necessity for keeping my job.
Well, I should be finishing up and getting my doctorate in May or thereabouts, if all goes well.
By a curious coincidence, I got 2 e-mails in the past 3 days to inform me that a faculty member at the college where I taught is planning to leave, and that they’ll have a position open, starting this August. The first e-mail was from my master’s advisor. He learned about the opening because he knows several of the faculty members at this school. One of them called him and asked if he knew anyone who might be suitable for the position. He mentioned my name, and the response – so he says – was “Michael might want the position? He’d be perfect!” So, he (my former advisor) wrote to tell me that I should definitely apply. A couple of days later, I got an e-mail from a former student there, and she emphasized that, in her opinion, I’d be perfect for the position, and that I should apply.
So, I called a friend of mine at this school and discussed the situation with her. She said, “you’d be a perfect choice – in fact you’re exactly what the department needs right now.” It seems that the guy who was department chair when I was there has pretty-much retired from teaching, and the remaining department members seem to be far more interested in their own research than in teaching. So, my friend insists that I’m just what they need – someone whose primary interest is in the students, not in their own research.
All well and good, but this is a women’s school, remember? My friend was very blunt: she said that though I’m exactly what they need, she thinks it’s unlikely that they’ll actually hire me. Why? Because the department chair seems to be determined that since this is a women’s college after all, they should hire only female professors if that’s at all possible.
Politics, oy!
Anyway, I figure it can’t possibly hurt to apply. I have friends there who seem to remember me fondly for some reason, and who’ve said that they’ll support me. My master’s advisor has told me that not only will he support my application, but if I am employed there, he’ll make his school’s world-class vertebrate collections available for my use as teaching tools – and that he most-definitely will not be making that offer to any other candidate for the position. (And he said that he intends to tell them exactly that in his recommendation.)
This seems like one of those “Almost Too Good to be True,” “Once In a Lifetime” opportunities, so it’d be foolish of me not to at least give it a shot. Even Sarah has told me that she really wants me to apply. (She hinted that maybe life in North Carolina wouldn’t be such a distressing thought after all.)
Anyway, I’m not getting my hopes up too high. From what my “inside sources” tell me, I have two strikes against me simply because I happen to possess a “Y” chromosome. It would be a wonderful thing if it did work out, though!
<Crossing my fingers . . . now!>
Cheers,
Michael
I got my master’s degree from a pretty well-thought-of university back in North Carolina. During that time, I discovered that I really enjoy teaching. I also discovered that I’m not quite as enthusiastic about doing research.
As it happened, the husband of a fellow grad student at the time was teaching as an adjunct at a small, private women’s college across town. When he was getting ready to leave, they asked him if he could suggest a replacement, and he gave them my name. So, I went over for an interview, they liked me for some reason, and they hired me as an adjunct professor.
I really enjoyed teaching there. It’s a small school, so I had small classes and could deal with the students as individuals. I could also do neat things like take them on field trips. I’d even get invited to participate in student activities on occasion. For example, a bunch of students decided they would like to spend the day exploring the North Carolina Zoo, and invited me along to act as a guide of sorts.
I always got good evaluations because – as many of the students wrote in said evaluations – it was very clear that I really enjoyed teaching. Without a doctorate, though, I couldn’t be hired on a permanent basis. Some of the faculty/staff members there told me on more than one occasion that if only I had a doctorate, they’d love to hire me on a full-time, tenure-track basis.
Well, I’m not completely unteachable, and besides, I was getting tired of the poverty wages and lack of benefits that are an adjunct’s lot in life, not to mention the uncertainty of knowing whether or not I would even be employed during the coming semester. So, I eventually went back to grad school to get a doctorate.
One thing that I’ve learned in grad school is that I’m very sick of the amazingly common attitude in certain academic circles that teaching is a waste of time and that no person with any “real talent” should aspire to do so. So, I’ve become more and more convinced that what I really want is to wind up at some nice small private college like the one where I’d taught as an adjunct. There I could teach – and if I feel like doing some research on the side that’s fine, but publishing “X” number of papers per year isn’t a necessity for keeping my job.
Well, I should be finishing up and getting my doctorate in May or thereabouts, if all goes well.
By a curious coincidence, I got 2 e-mails in the past 3 days to inform me that a faculty member at the college where I taught is planning to leave, and that they’ll have a position open, starting this August. The first e-mail was from my master’s advisor. He learned about the opening because he knows several of the faculty members at this school. One of them called him and asked if he knew anyone who might be suitable for the position. He mentioned my name, and the response – so he says – was “Michael might want the position? He’d be perfect!” So, he (my former advisor) wrote to tell me that I should definitely apply. A couple of days later, I got an e-mail from a former student there, and she emphasized that, in her opinion, I’d be perfect for the position, and that I should apply.
So, I called a friend of mine at this school and discussed the situation with her. She said, “you’d be a perfect choice – in fact you’re exactly what the department needs right now.” It seems that the guy who was department chair when I was there has pretty-much retired from teaching, and the remaining department members seem to be far more interested in their own research than in teaching. So, my friend insists that I’m just what they need – someone whose primary interest is in the students, not in their own research.
All well and good, but this is a women’s school, remember? My friend was very blunt: she said that though I’m exactly what they need, she thinks it’s unlikely that they’ll actually hire me. Why? Because the department chair seems to be determined that since this is a women’s college after all, they should hire only female professors if that’s at all possible.
Politics, oy!
Anyway, I figure it can’t possibly hurt to apply. I have friends there who seem to remember me fondly for some reason, and who’ve said that they’ll support me. My master’s advisor has told me that not only will he support my application, but if I am employed there, he’ll make his school’s world-class vertebrate collections available for my use as teaching tools – and that he most-definitely will not be making that offer to any other candidate for the position. (And he said that he intends to tell them exactly that in his recommendation.)
This seems like one of those “Almost Too Good to be True,” “Once In a Lifetime” opportunities, so it’d be foolish of me not to at least give it a shot. Even Sarah has told me that she really wants me to apply. (She hinted that maybe life in North Carolina wouldn’t be such a distressing thought after all.)
Anyway, I’m not getting my hopes up too high. From what my “inside sources” tell me, I have two strikes against me simply because I happen to possess a “Y” chromosome. It would be a wonderful thing if it did work out, though!
<Crossing my fingers . . . now!>
Cheers,
Michael